Lesson #3 - Regarding Trains and Gyms

Lesson #3 of the Netherlands:
Don't rush to get on the train. Ever. You will get separated and it will be terrifying. Especially when you don't both have phones. And lack sufficient coins.


We're finally starting to settle in. Yesterday we actually started unpacking. Granted, we can't figure out how to get hot water in the shower, and the bathroom smells like a flour tortilla that somebody pooped in (disgusting, but oddly descriptive. I'm not sure why, but it's not airing out), but fresh produce is really cheap. Actually, groceries are really cheap. And the orange juice has pulp in it.

Also, we're 90% sure that a hooker is working the corner across from our apartment. I think I'll call this segment of the blog

Hooker Watch!
Two nights in a row (late nights - blame the time zone adjustment) guys have pulled up to the corner, talked with her (and the other guy who manages to appear, pretty sure he's her pimp), then driven away with her hopping on her bike and following. Exciting stuff.


Yesterday we decided to find a climbing gym to help mitigate the culture shock. Google Maps informed us that taking public transportation would be about 15 minutes faster than walking, so we decided to hoof it. We then proceeded to go on an adventure through an industrial district, past what I think was the jail, and finally around a large park in the center of Rotterdam. Google Maps then got confused about our actual location and we proceeded to wander in every direction until we said fuck it and got pancakes.

Dutch pancakes are more like a thick crape and are delicious. Just so you know.

I'm pretty sure the 5km walk ended up being closer to 9km. Eventually we found the gym and wandered in looking, I'm sure, like confused and uncertain tourists. The guy who worked there noticed us and probably thought we were clueless newbies. He was very nice to us and, when we told him we had just moved here, explained the "subscription" to the gym. We were then asked if we had any climbing experience and/or needed to rent gear. I suspect the gear question was in part to feel out if we actually have a clue what we're doing. We were told to go ahead and start climbing and that he would keep an eye on us just to make sure we were ok (code for "not going to drop someone or belay like an idiot"). No belay class or certification, just a "have at."

It's worth noting that the wall was about 30m tall. It's also worth noting that everyone in Europe uses the French grading system instead of the Yosemite Decimal System to rank the difficulty of climbing routes. And apparently like to use static ropes. This is definitely going to take some getting used to.

Climbing is an excellent treatment for culture shock. Climbers are a special breed, and we immediately felt more at home when we walked in to the gym. We got some beta on good climbing spots in Belgium and Germany that are only a couple hours away by train or car, and I chatted with a guy who graduated from TU Delft with a masters in geological engineering. It's a small world, and I maintain that engineers and geologists are drawn to rock climbing; our climbing group in Fairbanks consists of 4 engineers and a geologist, with an additional 2 engineers and an aquatic ecologist (who works at the satellite facility) who occasionally join us. Dakota, our poor geologist, catches a lot of crap for not being an engineer. Or having his bachelors. Or for being our token sport climber.

Also, they serve beer and coffee at the climbing gym. BEER and coffee. Mostly the beer part.

Anyway, I digress.

We did find some fantastic graffiti on our walk back to the apartment.

Interesting Tidbit #1:
The Netherlands conduct an air raid siren test at noon on the first Monday of every month. This system was put in place during WWII and apparently you can hear the siren everywhere in the Netherlands.

So back to Lesson #3...

We went to Delft today to meet with the professor I'll be doing research for. We took the bus there and decided it would be nicer to take the train back to Rotterdam. After wandering our way to the train station (much further from the University than anticipated), we bought tickets from the kiosk just as a train was arriving. We hurriedly tried to get on it, and Ev made it on just before the doors started closing. We both had a sinking sense of horror as the train pulled away from the platform with Ev aboard and me standing there. The super-fun part was realizing that the train was going to Amsterdam.

That's right. We got separated with Ev heading the opposite direction of where we were going. And Ev hadn't been able to get his phone unlocked, let alone memorize my new number. I sucked it up and got on the next train to Rotterdam Centraal, hoping that Ev would show up eventually.

Ev asked someone on the train where it was going and realized he was on the wrong train. He explained to the very nice guy that he had been separated from his partner and had no way to contact her. The guy took pity on him and helped him switch trains. Once he was on the train to Rotterdam, a women lent a sympathetic ear and took Ev under her wing, explaining to him that once the door alarm goes off, you need to be either on or off of the train because the doors are closing whether or not you've decided where to be. Let it be known that I almost lost a finger figuring that out on my own. The very nice lady suggested that Ev try to contact me via Facebook and lent him her phone to do so. I pulled out my phone to check if he'd emailed me and found the following:

Amazingly, we managed to meet up in Rotterdam Centraal and I was the recipient of the most ecstatic hug of all time. We were both pretty freaked out by the whole debacle and Lesson #3 was born.

We promptly searched out a pub near the apartment and had a couple beers (or in my case a beer and an espresso).

Now, having settled down, the view of the sunset from our apartment is quite lovely.