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Friday, July 27, 2007

fleeing flying fun?

Not much work today, since I've been visiting the neighbors for coffee and before I knew it was 3 AM and we'd finished lunch too. Wrote a few pages on a positioning project afterwards, the first paid project since returning. One small project must be possible, I thought, to keep my positioning muscles just a little in shape. And who can say no to Sylwia? So no work on the book today.

This weekend will be special, I guess, but I wouldn't know. Don't ask me. Tomorrow is my birthday and it seems you're all not invited, unless it's gonna turn out a surprise party. Marcel just told me to be ready tomorrow morning and that we're 'moving somewhere, southern direction, and we'll be back sometime Tuesday'.
That's not much to go by. But I love surprises for my birthday, so already I'm satisfied, whatever we're going to do. So if there's no message here for a couple of days, I will be enjoying myself in some foreign country.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Sound, Vision AND Text

Another one in Dutch today.
Vandaag naar de Beeld en Geluid instituut in Hilversum, waar ze alles weten van de televisiehistorie. Als het goed is ligt er een stapel boeken voor me klaar. Maar eerst een lekker tochtje met de trein. Ik hou van treinen, vooral buiten de spits. Weesp is een teleurstelling. Hoewel ik er ongetwijfeld vaker ben geweest, blijft in mijn hoofd hardnekkig het beeld bestaan van een oud stationnetje, omgeven door statige notabelen woningen en wellicht een boerderij in de verte. De werkelijkheid is een open, winderig jaren-70 bouwsel, met een uitzicht als hiernaast op de foto. Na Weesp wordt het beter, met fraaie plassen en poelen, omgeven door veel groen. Station Naarden-Bussum lijkt ook al meer op mijn droomstation.
Hilversum-Noord heeft het dan weer niet, maar dat -Noord doet al een soort bushalte vermoeden, en dat blijkt juist. Het instituut blijkt een fraai gebouw met een veelkleurige buitenkant en een binnenkant vooral in oranje. Mooi hoor. De man achter de balie kijkt me verbaasd aan: “we hebben hier geen bibliotheek, hoor!” Toch heb ik een afspraak, dus verwijst hij me naar de klantenservice. Daar blijkt dat de directie liever niet heeft dat mensen voor boeken naar Hilversum komen. Hé, het heet instituut voor Beeld en Geluid en daarom zijn de boeken naar de kelder verbannen, waar slechts een enkele medewerker toegang heeft.


Maar er ligt een stapeltje boeken voor me klaar in een fraai hokje en om de hoek is zelfs gratis koffie te krijgen. Kijk, daar heb je wat aan! De man die mijn boeken heeft uitgezocht heeft er zelfs op eigen initiatief een paar aan toegevoegd (op basis van mijn summiere uitleg over mijn onderwerp), komt later zelfs nog even vragen of alles naar wens is en of ik nog meer boeken wil. Jawel, maar nu eerst deze stapel door.. Vandaag 2,5 boek gedaan, vooral over het jaren zestig TV programma Hoepla en de Nederlandse film in die dagen. Moet nog wel een paar keer terug om de rest ook door te werken. En ook dat is geen probleem, mijn stapeltje wordt keurig in een tas bewaard tot ik terug kom.
Mag ik een applausje voor het Nederlands Instituut voor Beeld en Geluid en Tekst?

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

gay growth

Read about the history of gay liberation until 1990. During my theories’ first winter period (early sixties) the attitude towards gays quickly changed from ‘sexual predator of young boys’ to ‘fellow human being with psychological problems’. Gays were not to be chased by police anymore, they were a bit sad and lonely and you should feel sorry for them. Quite an improvement. Of course, the sexual liberation of the spring period at the end of the sixties helped any emancipation process, and the Dutch gay organization COC developed from hiding place to ‘gay union’ during the following seventies, claiming some succes when laws were changed in 1971 and the COC got official ‘royal’ acknowledgement from the government in 1973. Soon, all political parties, unions and large institutions had gay groups, and gay groups divided themselves in political and social groups, ‘extremists’ and ‘normals’. The famous Lesbian ‘Paarse (violet) September’ made headlines by claiming sleeping with men was 'sleeping with your oppressor' and that 'the only true feminist is a lesbian'. ‘Fanatical Faggots’ were parading the streets in dresses, without shaving off their beards. Travesty wasn’t about elegance and charm then, mixing male and female aspects was a political choice.. In the middle, the average Dutch gay had to do his personal coming out, being helped by a few ‘out of the closet’ famous Dutch artists like Gerard Reve, Robert Long and Albert Mol..

Unfortunately, in the autumn period between 1977 and 1983 a lot of the space conquered was lost again when Aids roared it’s first ugly head. And the polarization in society during autumn wasn’t lost on gays too: a gay demonstration in 1982 ended in violence when youth groups started shouting and throwing rocks, sending several people to hospital and starting a trend among gays to take courses in self defense (later developing into gay sports clubs). At least it helped to finally turn the police force around: from their focuse on closing down cruising areas they now found themselves protecting gays in the streets.

So also gay liberation follows my timeframe theory. Even the Homomonument was build in Amsterdam during the winter period of 1983-1988, a time of inclusion, looking back and remembrance (in this case all the victims of anti-gay violence).
Of course gay liberation exploded again in the nineties, with the iT, the chanel parade and the 1998 Gay Games as high points. Unfortunately, we’re past another spring and summer period like the nineties, attitudes have worsened again since 1999, when we moved from open to closed season, entering autumn. While I’m typing there is an item on anti-gay violence on television.. That's the seasonality, sometimes intriguing, sometimes sad: two steps forward, one step back. Unless we survive this winter by regrouping, gaining support and 'hitting back'. Should we build another monument during this too closed winter period we’re having now?

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

doc dis

Veel discussie over eerwraak, dezer dagen. Documentaire van Frans Bromet over twee vrouwen die een documentaire maken over het onderwerp.. Klinkt interessanter dan het was. Bromet liet zien dat hij de nuance niet kan pakken, hetgeen hem in mijn boek maakt tot een filmer van een voorbije polariserende herfst-tijdgeest. Ruziënde buren kan hij wellicht tot leuke uitspraken verleiden met zijn zuigende vragen, maar bij de beide vrouwen werkte dat niet. Ze sloegen dicht en zijn opmerkingen in de trant van 'wat flauw, zeg, daar kun je toch wel iets over zeggen' typeerden hem eerder als een zeurderige kleuter dan als een volwassen interviewer. De tijdgeest vraagt om meer nuance in de vraagstelling. Zeker zo'n onderwerp als eerwraak, wat natuurlijk wel leidde tot de gebruikelijke opgefokte uitspraken van allochtone pubers: 'nou ja, doodmaken met een slagersmes is misschien wel overdreven, gewoon in elkaar slaan en met stenen bekogelen, zou ik zeggen.' Wat moet je er mee? Het meest schokkend was de man die 4 jaar had gekregen voor het neersteken van zijn beste vriend omdat die wellicht iets had met zijn zus. Geen greintje spijt in zijn uitspraken, gedaan in duidelijk Nederlands, zodat hij hier toch al lang moet wonen, waarschijnlijk zelfs geboren is. Mijn associatie was erg met autochtone mannen die hun vrouw mishandelen. Hetzelfde gebrek aan zelfrespect, het wentelen in het slachtofferschap, de luiheid van denken en dan maar je vast houden aan het enige waar je nog macht over kunt hebben: een vrouw. Strenge straffen voor eerwraak, ja, wat schiet je ermee op als niemand spijt betuigt? Pas vrijlaten bij een spijtbetuiging? Vinden juristen vast geen optie. Kunnen we dat eergevoel misschien positief inzetten? Er zijn vast mensen die erover nadenken.

Viel me in ieder geval wel op dat de mannen naast vrouwen met hoofddoek en zwarte jurk allemaal in vrolijke Nike petjes, jasjes en schoenen lopen. Wat zegt dat eigenlijk?

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Book the country

Not much action on Friday. Felt down and ill. Busy Saturday: a lunch with old friends (one visiting from France for the first time in 5 years), opening of the new Individuals-store on Spui Amsterdam, diner at my place. Subjects talked about:
- being middle aged and liking it
- reflecting on old and searching for new values
- the joy of still finding new dimensions to your own personality
- the strange feeling that the Dutch do either not dare to ask questions about my book or are basically less interested than Canadians or Americans. Especially Americans have loads of questions and immediately think of anecdotes in their own history. Most Dutch I spoke since returning kept their distance, quickly moving on to another subject. Is writing a book a taboo subject here or is it just the content of my book? Wonder..
- the pros and cons of feeling detached from your home and your hometown.

“Well, if you’re not attached to Amsterdam anymore..”, Marcel immediately opened the argument again for buying a house in Eastern Holland. I found myself not flatly refusing the idea anymore. If I can find a nice old monastery or town hall that would be at least twice as big as our two current separate appartments, so it’s able to house both our personalities and particularities, I guess it would be an option..

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Long Live Lunch And Librarians

My prayer to my body had some effect, had my best night since returning. Now on 4,5 hours of sleep, so there is light at the end of the tunnel. So I really felt like having lunch, at the famous Music Centre, with three of the few people I still know from 'the old' PPGH agency, before the takeover by UW. Almost all have moved, and that within half a year. But these three are among my favorites. Listened to their stories. Must say I feel very detached from it all. But detached is my middle name at the moment, as I told them. Don't feel I'm really back in Holland, yet. The only thing I try to focus on in between sneezing and sniffing is the book. Have been at the new library today, was trying to take a few pictures for you but my battery was dead again. Worked for a few hours, slowly. Pictures will show next week, have taken 7 books with me for the weekend, and will stay in tomorrow again.
Have made contact with the media library in Hilversum. I admire the service level librarians give you. I sent a mail and got a long reply immediately, offering some explaining and service. And now, there will be a few books waiting for me when I go there next week. And at the Amsterdam Central Library a great woman even gave me a guided trip around her floor. And they all look very proud to be in this new building.
You can say what you want about Dutch service levels: visit any library and feel embedded in optimism, there is hope for a better future.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

flex lag

Someone once told me that those who suffer from extreme jet lag are the lucky ones. Their body, she told me, has a steady, healthy rhythm, that it tries to maintain in times of change. It protects itself against stress by keeping a strict balance. So basically, that makes me a flexible mind in a rigid body? It rings true, though. In the past, I have often been frustrated by the rigid structure my body adheres to (‘so you’d like to go dancing and fall asleep around six in the morning? Sorry, can’t do that. New day, new dawn, we’re just starting up the system for the day, computer says ‘no’ to shutting off, so better prepare yourself’).

In the end it brought me advantages too: a healthy lifestyle (‘no, you can not go not swimming today’) and a mental grid to fall back on. For I know how it works. It helped me through problematic assignments when everyone around me was in full stress mode. And, just like my body I am able to stubbornly stick to a plan against all odds. Did that in high school against the headmaster’s political ways, and used it to maximum benefit during five years of presiding over a staff of 300 (mainly volunteers..), trying to reorganize the COC Amsterdam. And in some working arrangements, though I must say I mostly used mental flexibility to keep ahead in my advertising life. Then again I stubbornly stayed with my plan to go to Vancouver and start on my book.

So maybe I should be thankful for the rigid, controlled part of my being. But now, dear body, I would be grateful if you would accept that, somehow, we’re not in Vancouver anymore. Flexibility and rigidity, they both may have their advantages, but you should be able to decide which one prevails every time.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

sniff sniff

Woke up last night, which isn't unusual, since my body is totally out of sync with time (and all bodily functions unfortunately go along with this mismatch), only this time my throat felt like sandpaper. And this morning, while I barely felt like stepping out of bed, my nose felt like running. And it's still on full production speed. So no library today. Will stay inside sniffing. Have checked out the new Amsterdam public library yesterday and liked it. True, it's no Colehare, as they would say in Seattle, but within the Dutch functionalism it still is tastefully designed, spacious and has a certain luxurious appeal, with its roof terrace and restaurant at the top, overlooking Amsterdam. Wonder though how the average public library guest will appreciate the great sandwiches at 6,95 euro a piece. Let's hope they do, the restaurant is too good to be closed too soon. The library also has enough working space, some even enclosed. Will check those out the coming weeks, alternating with Hilversum, I guess. Will take a look at the 'Sound and vision' library there this week.
Anyway, it's good to stay in for a day, connecting with my home again. Since I packed all personal stuff into one closet and my attic, there is enough to unpack and restore. Have to do a few financial chores, but where exactly did I put all those files..?

Monday, July 16, 2007

home, ... home?

Home again. How does that feel? Strange. Detached, I would say. Arriving at Schiphol was great, being greeted by and later having a drink with José and Thea who helped Marcel pick me and my bags up. Strangely seeing my own home didn't do much for me. Basically it felt like the next appartment. I didn't really miss a home, or my home. Funny that. Feel I have been transplanted into a new film set and have to adjust to it. We're doing my life, here, but it doesn't yet feel like it. More like a guest appearance in somebody elses show: "ah, so this is where I live? Right. Nice appartment". Of course, I was a bit out of it, after ten hours on the flight. We'll see how that develops the coming days, when the jet lag wears off. Sitting on the roof terrace was nice though. Until now I have forgotten to put my mobile on, so I think I'll start there and see.
And then on, first to the new Amsterdam public library and then on to Hilversum for the media library.

Friday, July 13, 2007

Friday the 13th part one

At Vancouver Airport. Flight from Seattle was short and fast, but in a very strange propeller plane I had not seen before. Made strange noises, but it got me here. Then ran around between international and domestic buildings collecting my bags with such speed that I made a very strange jump, flying through the air and landing on my knee with my cart and bags all over me.. One more stiff knee, but immediately two nice Canadian servicemen who helped me and wanted to take me to a doctor for ice. It wasn't that bad, though. Could still walk. Then had to stand in line for two hours to check in. Last night a plane did not leave, probably because the quality of the plane KLM uses to fly to Vancouver is widely criticized: there are technical problems abundant. Why did I read that? But the lady behind the counter was extremely nice. She had a Russian accent, which always makes me like people. And she promised me she would try and get me a seat with extra leg space, but couldn't promise anything. We'll wait and see. Anyway: after taking out about ten kilos and putting those books into my hand luggage, my bags were exactly below maximum: 300 grams, to be exact.

So this is the last message from Vancouver. Will keep the blog though so long as the book is in the making, so keep up with the latest Tom's Book news here. For now, it's bye-bye Canada and Amsterdam here I come. Wonder how it'll look.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

ColeHare on the loose?

Library tour this morning, Rem Koolhaas' built it. Small disappointment: tour guide told us she had no architectural knowledge, was a librarian, so started to explain to us (all from out of town) the system of lending and where to find what.. But in between she told some anecdotes about the recycled wooden floors, for example. In America, she explained, they were not used to the combination of highly functional elements (seeing the wiring running along the ceiling) with frivolities like totally red floors and walls in the meeting area. Strange, but maybe it’s something Dutch. I see it a lot in Dutch buildings. Perhaps it has financial/pragmatic reasons. It’s a stunning building, I’ll post a few pics. The tour guide told me they have special facilities for writers, who get their own little space in the library. Should have told me sooner.. The people in the gift shop were making jokes about Rem’s last name, which I didn’t get at first, because being Dutch, I would never think about the meaning of Koolhaas, so when they kept repeating they worked in a cold hare, a cool house, a Cabbage Hare, I only got it at the last joke. We discussed the origin of strange names, which I attributed to Napoleon, who decided everybody had to wear a name. Probably one of Koolhaas’ ancestors decided to name his family after their last meal.

Last whole day in Seattle. Walked around for a few hours until it began to get too hot again and my feet were killing me, then I suddenly jumped into the air conditioned lobby of a movie theatre and bought tickets to Harry Potter on impulse. Never read one of the books. Was not mesmerized like all the (American) critics seem to be. It’s not bad, but it all rests on the shoulders of a few good actors (loved the ‘bad witch’ in sweet pink dress), instead of getting the most out of each scene. The ending was sudden and without much climax, I found. But that’s me. Not a boring movie but a bit disappointing, I would say.
Tomorrow at 12.50 I’m flying to Vancouver and then on to Amsterdam, a few hours later.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Burn, baby, burn

Long talk with a woman from LA during and after breakfast. She was an iconic example of the self-improving summer of the seventies in my theory. She married in the sixties, turning into a mother and housewife until she started reading Ms Magazine, a bible for the starting feminist movement in America and decided she wanted to study medicine after all, which was not that easy at her age at that time, in the process discovering she was a lesbian, organizing 'pot-parties' for her teenage daughter who grew up to be a cartoonist and published her first cartoon in.. Ms Magazine. She's now a doctor. Her daughter is also a typical example of one of the most visible cultural expressions of the beginning of the nineties: tattoos. She has a giant tattoo of a personal cartoon character all over her back. I've seen so many people between 30 and 40 here with tattoos (and then not the small tribal ones we see in Holland, but full coloured ones all over the (upper) arm. Which leads to some conflicting arrangements, I must say, when a women is wearing a armless summer dress which does not match the tattoo at all

It also reminds me of research we did last year, showing that tattoos are totally out of fashion with young people. So we will recognize the people that had their youth in the beginning of the nineties clearly, even in fourty years time, when they use their tattood arms to push their wheelchair through the streets of Seattle. Wonder how cool that will look. Once thought about setting a tattoo of a volcano, but couldn't find the right design. Yes, I've lived through the nineties.
And survived the heat today, the burning sun right above me, by spending time in Rem Koolhaas' public library. Will do a tour tomorrow.
And returned to the CD shop as a true addict, but only 10 today.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Heat to my musical head

From icebergs to ice water in just a day.. Seattle is suffering from heatwave. Tomorrow 38 degrees expected. Pfff. We're reaching into record territory, the man on the news said. Walked around town a little. Looks good, a lot of those old wooden houses with big porches, and a beautiful, large water front, looking out at mountain range, snowcapped and all. After a few hours walking around town, I escaped into an air conditioned CD shop. Wrong move. I totally lost control of myself and came out with 20 new CDs. Rare remixes from David Bowie, Depeche Mode and Madonna, among others. I keep thanking the Americans for their willingness to put up to 10 different mixes on one CDsingle. Compare that to the Dutch record companies who think two or three is enough. And the prices are a steal. Will have to give myself a restraining order for the coming days. Tomorrow I will probably try for the hopefully cool air of Rem Koolhaas' Public Library here. And in the afternoon take another dive into the small pool in the back yard of my B&B.

Monday, July 9, 2007

me and my mountains

The Glacier Bay Day Tour was hands down the highlight of this Alaska trip. Though the glacier and especially the blue icebergs on the Tracey Arms Tour two days ago were more special, the total experience yesterday was breathtaking all the way. Tip: do both. But describing all the sights wouldn’t do the total experience right. I was completely happy, now on with some anecdotes.
In between happily looking at the mountains (did I mention I love the combination of mountains and water?) I noticed a few things. First: I lack something. This became clear when I found myself, not once but twice, on one side of the boat, taking in some great mountain ranges, while the rest of the boat was on the other side, catching a glimpse of a mountain goat or a bald headed eagle I couldn’t bring the enthusiasm up for that others seemed to have plenty. And there were the Orca’s, or, better, the fins of Orca’s. Been there, seen that. Loads of sea lions. And birds in shades of colors. Nice, I truly think so, but give me a bald headed mountain anytime.. (Did I mention I love..?) Wide open space always does it for me. What does that say about me? To my defense: I loved the sea otter drifting on it’s back with his hands and feet out of the water, looking at us, totally at ease. I identify with that. Drifting through these waters, enjoying the scenery..
Of course also in people there were the usual suspects on the boat: the New Zealand cool kid with tanned face, cool sunglasses and one-liners (question: why do the people in the most beautiful country in the world travel so much?) that has seen all the world. We picked him up at a beach, after he had been kayaking around glacier bay with a mate, camping on the rocks. Cool, what? We got talking about travels and my worry about the ecological effects of visiting Galapagos and Antartica. He looked at me strangely, started an incomprehensible argument about expeditions and tourism and advised me to visit the south pole soon, before tourism really hits it and prices will go through the roof. And there was a cute Dutch lesbian couple, keeping very much to themselves in a corner of the outside deck, armed against the world with enormous tele-lenses hanging low on their hips. When I heard them discussing whether they would ask someone to take a picture or not, I made my Dutch and myself useful. They looked a bit startled.
Important: must make a comment on the Glacier Bay Lodge staff who organized this trip: what a great feeling it is if the people serving and assisting seem just as happy as you are to take the trip. What about forgetting about the stiff ‘customer oriented’ service and thinking in terms of ‘event oriented’ or ‘enthusiasm generating’ service? Let’s enjoy it together, staff and customer? What a great difference that makes to your day. Thanks for that.

On to Seattle today. But will be back here. Would be the best if I could sail through these waters then. The quietness would make the experience even better than it was today, where the noise of the engine was the only small negative. Just to drift through the waters like an otter, silent and smooth.. Aah, did I mention I love mountains in combination with water..?

Sunday, July 8, 2007

glacier bay

Haven't thought about writing all day. When I woke up I was prepared for anything: I had only one call to fall back on, and a single confirmation number. But today everything just turned out marvelous. The taxi was waiting at 5.15 AM, at the airport a friendly women brought me to the right (empty) desk. Not being Marcel I did not panic and just waited. Plane was supposed to leave at six. At ten to six still no one. Then I became a little worried. But in the end a man came running and after noticing there was no assistance at all, said he was the pilot, took the heavy luggage of the only other customer and took us to a very small plane. Just the three of us.. It all just came together, which amazed me a little: think of it: after only one call, three different companies work together: there is a plane waiting, a pilot who has the name Keimsmeijer scribbled on a small piece of paper, a car waiting in Gustafson, taking me to my boat for the day, ready and waiting. All to make sure I set off to Glacier Bay before 7.30.. Love that. And a great day it was.

But I think the internet connection is lost, so more tomorrow.. If this will still get on, that is..

Friday, July 6, 2007

Icy Days

The helicopter ride and the walk on the glacier were, of course, amazing. Will not bore you with superlative descriptions. Best part was having to climb a three story high pile of ice with a hook in each hand and a rope between my feet. Never did wall climbing, but natural ice is very inviting to try and master. Muscles keep finding new places to ache, though. The things you do at old age.

Today was another boat tour, to Tracey Arms, 2,5 hours to get there, but again well worth the trip and the early rise. A green bay full of smaller and bigger icebergs in white and neon blue floating in between the high rising mountains on both side, discarding water from their tops in steady and powerful streams. Until we reached the main thing. And yes, the hypocrisy is not lost to me: a boat full of people worried about global warming hanging around a glacier for more than an hour, hoping a huge chunk of ice will break off the glacier. And it happened. No Al Gore quantities, but one rather large chunk and several small pieces. We can start and really save the world, now I have seen the evidence.
On the way back we encountered some whales, the magical animals everybody runs to the side of the boat for. And that while they only show a tiny bit of their back, in the distance. Talk about image! The sea lions, stretched out lovably on an iceberg, didn’t get the same enthusiastic response. Personally I loved the sight of two eagles sitting next to each other on a small piece of ice, like they were in deep conversation.Ended the day in a pub, looking straight up at the humungous rump of the Zaandam, at the pier. My god, what a monster cruise ship. Next to me a loud American family bossed the waitresses around. Especially the women was of the neurotic American type: ‘could you bring me.. What about our drinks, could you check on our food, could I have some salsa with it.. etc’. And, funnily: ‘that waitress is actually cuter than she looks. I love that accent’. The waitress spoke Oxford English. But she brought her dad on a cruise, and that is a good thing, though she let him know one time too many.
Tomorrow is a land day.

Thursday, July 5, 2007

Juneau

In Juneau. Chose the right B&B. Quiet, great mattress on the bed. Slept like a log, after the ferry trip, where sleep was less easy. But it was an amazing experience. A day and a half through endless series of islands and mountains in all sorts and styles. Makes one rather reflective. It really feels like moving up to the end of the world. Like that. Have I mentioned I love mountains near the wide open sea? Slowly arching their backs out of the water and reaching into the clouds, happily clinging to their snow-capped tops? Magical. Can look at that for hours. And could, for more than a day, to be precize.

Had a little hick-up at the border control in Prince Rupert, where the man got rather nervous looking at my passport. I had to step back, he looked for his supervisor (not to be found), he asked for my driver’s license, asked for a ticket back to Amsterdam, made copies of all those papers, went for his supervisor again and still couldn’t find him. Asked after my occupation (what does one say? I choose advertising manager, doesn’t sound that terroristy..). Then he asked me if this was my First Passport ('No...') and if I had my OLD passport with me..! I remained calm and bit my tongue to keep in the cynical remarks I could make on that question. In the end he asked another colleague and luckily she said it was alright. He apologized but I just shrugged. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. God bless America, I have a stamp. The ferry was adorned with a lot of American flags, but according to the Canadians it was a bit understated for July 4: Independence day!

Met a very interesting woman named Lorraine, who used to have a travel agency and was now on her way to Dawson City, the infamous gold mine city far north, to live there for a few months. “I want to experience all the characters there”, she said. Hope she has a lot of fun. We had plenty on the boat, she being a gracious victim to my growing need for communication. Not that many whales alongside the boat, saw a few farther away. Lots of eagles, some sea lions. And my first official iceberg came floating by. Amazing sight, like a work of art on an empty gallery-floor. All shades of bright blue to white.
Am now waiting for my pickup for a helicopter trip unto the glacier here and then doing some hiking up there. Sounds good.

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Local rain

Spent some time in the local museum. Wooden building, nice architecture, good exhibition design, local history, focus on native people history. What I always like is the stress on what I call 'moving history', the way most original cultures keep the past alive by storytelling and carrying symbolic representations of the past with them (cliche example: totem poles). Noticed that in Aboriginal culture and their Dreamtime, where a threethousand years stretch amounts to about the same as a week, somehow, it's not about time, but about being part of time) and again here. Where most Europeans see history as something outside of us, something we can study with the same detachement as we would study foreign cultures, for the native people of Canada it is inside and still part of them. It makes the stories so much more relevant and deep. That's the good part, I find. There is also a less politically correct side to it: most art strikes me as a copy of something I've seen a thousand times before. To put it bluntly: how many symbolic representations of a fish, a bear, a wolf or a whales tale can you see, in wood, silver, gold or stone? It's nice, but -dare I say- boring too..? Outside it was raining, so I took my time. Did not feel like taking a boat trip, because the next few days will be all trip.
A day and a half on the water before reaching Juneau, then a day trip by boat to Tracey Arms and another day boat trip to Glacier Bay. So I decided to keep to land for today and instead went for ginger cake and iced coffee. And now just half an hour to spare before the taxi will bring me to the ferry. See you in Alaska.

Monday, July 2, 2007

drive out

Woke up startled at 11 in the evening. Thought I had a wine-induced bad dream but it was true: I heard an explosion, followed by a machine gun. And more gun sounds. In Prince Rupert???
Then I remembered: It was Canada day. Fireworks! Missed them, falling asleep on too much wine.

Today I decided to rent a car and drive out to Terrace, two hours from PR. Cd in the player and drive out to the snow capped mountains. Great trip, green/blue fast flowing waters, quiet roads. Leading to Terrace, which reminds one what a shame it is Europeans did not reach this part of the world 500 years earlier, building a castle or an interesting wall or whatever. Or only ten years ago, so the native people would have had the chance of cementing their style. Now it looks like any American city-crap: ugly buildings in ugly streets, in one of the best spots in the world! Luckily today was about the process of getting there, not the destination. So I ate a sandwich and immediately drove on again, back to nature. Nice day between my beloved snow capped mountains, alongside clear water. And a good idea to get away from PR: it rains 220 days a year here and today was no exception, I noticed, driving back. Missed out on a few showers.. Anyway, the town is almost deserted, everyone inside or away, I don't know, but all the good restaurants were closed. My fish plate, fresh Halibut, Salmon, oysters (hmm, already pictured them in their shells, on ice..) turned out to be of the variant 'roll it in flour and fry it'.. Shame about the oysters. But they served it with a big smile and that's worth something too. Tomorrow evening it's boarding time.. On the boat to Juneau, Alaska. Boat. Means no internet.

Sunday, July 1, 2007

whining drunk writing

A littledrunk. red wine and no sleep last night. In Prince Rupert now. Don't feel like describing that/laughing one moment and melancholic whining the next/how did I get here? Let's whine a little! Up at six. Nice Asian taxi driver working second job to keep up to Vancouver standard. Did internet check in/ Finding: technology is put to use when it is available instead of when it is relevant. Arrived at the airport/people desperately trying to do an automated check in/I already did that so wanted to drop my bag quickly/big mistake/ had to stand in line for a counter handing out baggage tags/ So now we have three lines, 1. automated check in, where assistants help nervous people not able to print a boarding pass 2. counters for luggage designation, just as long as the check in lines we know so well. And 3. line to drop your bag (with assistance). But flight was nice/ 22 people in a propeller plane/ an automated baggage claim in Prince Rupert. 3 planes a day land here. You see your bag in the plane. But the computer does not work. One hour later it does. The bags arrive at the claim area in a truck (100 meters). They unlaod the truck. We claim our bags. We walk outside. Same truck there. We hand bags back to the man who load them in the truck again. I am Not kidding. We step into bus. Bus and truck move downtown/good service. But why the trouble and the delay, just to make use of technology? Stop whining. go to bed. Good wine. Nice sleep. Tired.