Sas in the city

2012-02-13T07:58:00.000Z

Beautiful Amsterdam. After a tough week at work, I was so happy to go out and play on Saturday! Blue sky, not too cold, and a beautiful walk on the canals. First time I could do so since I moved to the Dam in '98. Loved how so many Dammers decided to sell mulled wine and hot choc in their stalls on the canal. One of those perfect days when everybody seems happy.

Cold

2012-02-09T12:30:00.001Z

My cunning plan didn't quite come together.... Rather than skipping the winter, I skipped some weird extended autumn. The past week it's been minus something, with a max of minus 18 one night last week.

And I love it! It's white everywhere, it's properly cold and it's been sunny most days. People are ice skating on the Amsterdam canals, which I don't recall having seen before in the 10 years I've lived there. In Leiden some cafe had even put some tables and chairs on a frozen canal: al fresco hot chocolate! Now all I can wish is for it to be sunny until Saturday so I can take my camera and capture the wonderful sights.

Country nr 3

2012-01-20T12:39:00.001Z

Petronas Towers, a photo by Gypsy Saskia on Flickr.

Guess where I am? ;-)

The last day of my hols. One more night in KL before I start my 18 hour journey home. It's a good thing I've been to KL before as I feel incredibly inactive. I start my mornings in the pool, walk to one of the malls for lunch, laze in my hotel room with iPad and books in the arvo and walk somewhere for dinner. That's it. And man, it's nice.

Just taking in the scenes, drinking an iced coffee while watching the world go by and reading are the most relaxing thing. And the food, oh, the food. Bebimbap, Laksa, butter prawns, nasi rames, I've had all sorts of great Asian dishes. Even tried durian ice cream but just like the fruit, it's not for me.

Though I hate malls in the US, I love them here. So many nice cafes, food courts, and Chanel and Dior window shopping is a good way to spend some time. Behaved reasonably well: did some Uniqlo shopping simply because we don't have them in NL, got one of Chanel's limited edition nail polishes and bought Aesop creme that is actually cheaper here than in Oz.

So...last day tomorrow before heading to the airport. If all goes to plan I should be drinking a Melburnian coffee in my Amstie apartment by 7am on Sunday. Nice.

Souvenirs

2012-01-13T01:28:00.000Z

When I first started travelling, I did the proper tourist thing and bought very generic souvenirs. I still have my Zimbabwian wooden giraffe and my Darwin didgeridoo, but most souvenirs are long gone. These days, I hardly bring anything but food home. When I spent two months in Cape Town in '09 I brought home loads of (desert) wine, as well as chilli garlic peri peri from a winery, syruppy balsamic from another winery and some other bits and pieces. In my bagpack here in Mebs sit a kilo of coffee beans (an ideal Melbs souvenir plus I've run out at home and will need coffee pronto on my return), a bottle of white port from a NZ winery and two desert wines from Victorian wineries. Plus some spices and stuff from a Vietnamese shop in Abbotsford. These souvenirs won't last forever but with every flat white and every cheeky glass of desert wine before bed, I will remember my wonderful holiday. And isn't that the purpose of a good souvenir?

Auckland

2012-01-06T21:46:00.001Z

Auckland harbour and its Princes Wharf, a photo by Gypsy Saskia on Flickr.

My last day in Auckland already. Time flies! Having a wonderful stay with the most amazing hosts. Brien and Lynn, whom I met in '98, have gone out of their way to give me a great time. Island trip, Parnell, Mission Bay, fancy supermarket (I am a foreign supermarket junkie), nice food all the time, just fantastic. Oh, and I should mention the wine. These people can drink! Great chance for me to try loads of beautiful kiwi wines.

Victoria for the win!

2012-01-02T05:06:00.001Z

Banksie's ranch on the Peninsula, a photo by Gypsy Saskia on Flickr.

A quick lazy post before I go to New Zealand tomorrow. Victoria has been good to me! I stayed with friends in Carlton North and West Melbourne, made a trip to the Yarra Valley with Em and spent two wonderful days on my mate's ranch in the Mornington Peninsula. I've been to heaps of wineries and drank some great coffees! Boxing Day test was fun, even more so when we won. And I bought two pairs of shoes today (oops...).

Can't upload pics directly from my iPad but there are a few more on Flickr.

Melbourne!!

2011-12-20T07:25:00.003Z

In about 48 hours I should touch down in Melbs. Fingers crossed I won't have a 60 hour delay like last time. I cannot wait to catch up with my dear friends, spend Christmas in my mate's pub, spend a few days in the G and drink loads of fantastic coffee. Oh, and sun. Sun is good. Woohoo!

London baby

2011-12-11T14:12:00.001Z

Last weekend was my last weekend in London for 2011. And what a nice weekend it was. The city is so lovely when it's all Christmassy. I stayed with Melburnian friends in Notting Hill, which is an area I've only ever visited as a tourist or to go shopping. Staying there, and being out and about on Portobello Road when the shop owners are preparing for the crowds gave a whole different view of the area. I also finally made it to Primrose Hill, and enjoyed my Saturday morning walk there.

Other than endless walking I caught up with loads of work friends which made me realise once again how blessed I am with the people who have crossed my path in my three years there!

Gail's in Portobello Road before the tourists get there

Christmas music in Peter Jones on Sloane Square

My granola fix and some chocolate

A weekend in Toulouse

2011-11-22T20:42:00.001Z

French autumn leaves

As I hadn't seen my cousin and his wonderful family in ages, I decided to visit them in Toulouse mid November. My Dutch cousin and his German wife and their three kids moved there last year from Hamburg. A recipe for linguistical confusion and for a relaxed weekend.

The fact that it was 18-20 degrees was just a bonus, 'cause even in rain and thunder I'd have had a blast. I totally fell in love with my little cousins, aged 3ish, 5ish and almost eight. They were so much fun, and it's so cool to see my cousin in them. The oldest turned out to be a great interpreter (and peace keeper for that matter) which was very useful as my German is rubbish and the wee one doesn't speak Dutch yet. Over the weekend I navigated between Dutch, broken German and even more broken French.

So Toulouse....the biggest ancient city centre in Europe if I remember well. A massive cathedral. Loads of cool shops that I didn't visit. And quite some tea shops, so I had to sample a caffé gourmet in one of them. It's a good thing I don't often have time to eat properly during the week as the goodies that were the 'gourmet' probably counted for a full day's calories. Delicious.

On Saturday we made a day trip to Auch, in the mid Pyrenees. A cute cobble stoned town, where the little one did a Marilyn Monroe on a wind machine for about ten minutes, much to the entertainment of other tourists. And of course my trips abroad aren't complete without a visit to the local supermarket and markets. The Tournefeuille Carrefour and Sunday market saw to that.

And that was it in terms of 2011 weekend trips. The next trip is a biggie: to Melbourne in four weeks!

My two little helpers

Best place ever for a tea break

Food, fooder, foodiest

2011-11-03T18:18:00.002Z

As my job can be pretty hard core, I tend to spend my weekday nights in the gym or on the couch with a book. This week though, I went out for dinner three times (and tomorrow will be number four). On Monday my friend Deb was over from London with her boyfriend. We went to my local Szechuan restaurant and stuffed ourselves with some wonderful dishes. Tuesday the client and our team celibrated the succesful delivery of a project. Luckily I got to pick the restaurant and a place not too far from me happened to be convenient for everyone. Nice Frenchish food and a little bit too much wine. On a Tuesday, not a great idea... Yesterday I had my farewell dinner from my old team. Again, on walking distance from my place. It was nothing formal, I just asked the people I'd been closest too to join me for a farewell dinner. Magazzino serves great Italian food, overlooking the river. And I had more wine. I must be getting old but I can't really do drinking on two school nights in a row anymore. Tomorrow wil be dinner with three of my deariest friends in the Dam, Irish, English and French, at a restaurant that's meant to be really really good. It's called Anna, and it's in the red light district, which is an interesting choice of location for a resto like that. It will be a great way to start my weekend (and my diet!).

A weekend of healthy Alpine air

2011-10-24T15:34:00.008+01:00

After a work trip to London on Wednesday (damn I do miss the place), I was back at Schiphol two days later for a trip to Zurich. A workfriend is doing a project in Zurich and opted for an apartment where she can stay the weekends rather than hotelling it Mon-Fri and flying home every weekend. When she suggested I'd come and visit, I didn't need to think long.

I'd been to Zurich once before, but only to our offices and some restaurant in town. So on this trip, I wanted to get to know the city. And I did! The forecast was cloudy and rather blegh but both Saturday and Sunday turned into wonderfully sunny days. We ate nice food (tapas and local fare), walked miles along the lake (with swans that don't belong to a queen), had a look around town (pretty), had a coffee at an old fashioned tea house that is apparently a pick up place for 70+ cougars (Sprüngli), and watched the All Blacks beat France (but only just...my heartrate went through the roof). We also stumbled upon a lovely coffee place, Babu's, where we had brekkie on Sunday morning, pre-match. A nice find. Great coffee, super friendly staff, and delicious bread. Also pretty affordable, for Zurich standards anyway. All in all a lovely weekend, and I came back completely recharged!

And of course we ate like a local too. This was Sunday lunch.

Books

2011-10-15T20:40:00.011+01:00

Amsterdam just doesn't give me the energy levels London did so rather than being out and about a lot, I prefer to stay in most nights. A glass of red, a hot bath, Spotify and a book are perfect companions on those occasions. So despite no longer commuting by public transport, book or Kindle in hand, I still finish one book after another. And recently I read a couple I really enjoyed.

The Help is set in Jackson, Mississippi in the sixties, and is told from the perspective of two maids and a daughter of a cotton farmer. Skeeter, the cotton farmer's daughter, mourns the loss of the maid who was with her family for most of her life and is struggling to accept the racial views of her peers. Aibileen loves the child in her care more than the mother does, and Minny often gets in trouble for speaking her mind. Their stories come together when Skeeter decides to write a book with stories of the Jackson maids and asks Aibileen, her friend's maid, to help her. It's a wonderfully written book, painful to read at times, even more so when you realise how recent this history is, and how for some it's not even quite history yet (think KKK). It's touching and funny and I just loved reading it.

When I visited Washington DC last May I made sure to spend some time in Kramer's, one of my fav book stores. One of the titles I picked up was The Imperfectionists. It is basically a series of portraits of employees of an English language newspaper in Rome. The characters are so well defined, and the stories often so funny, it's hard to put the book away. It's an amazing debut by Tom Rachman. In several of the stories, the last few sentences completely change the picture you'd been painting in your mind. Very clever and charming.

Ian McEwan is very much hit and miss for me. I've loved some of his books yet almost hated others. A few reviews I read made me buy Solar. And I enjoyed this story of a womanizing scientist whose life went downhill after he won the Nobel Prize for his research. He sometimes made me cringe, in the way that David Brent from The Office does. But just like I would keep watching The Office, I kept reading Solar. There's a certain charm in the dodgy scientist, and the way McEwan portrays him troughout the book is brilliant.

Finally, having read a fair bit about the flick, I picked up One Day at a recent visit to Waterstone. A guy I follow on Twitter said he'd found it touching and I can see what he means. It tells the life of two friends on 15 July of every year from their graduation date onwards. A drunken snog then turns into a friendship where he becomes a womanising tv-personality while she dates an unsuccesful comedian, slaving away in a Mexican theme restaurant for years. It's a very easy read, and great company on grey autumn days.

Four positive reviews. Have I read any crap books recently? Not really, I think. Next is the Fry Chronicles, and I have high expectations of that one too!

New job

2011-10-12T07:13:00.002+01:00

It's been a hectic month. Shortly after Barcelona I went to Frankfurt for work, wrapped up a project, and organised a client seminar at our offices. And I changed jobs. Pfew. Having had doubts about my old business unit since March or so, I still thought I should give it a go. But three months into it I realised it wasn't going to happen. So I graciously accepted the offer one of our actuarial partners made me earlier this year, and I joined the actuaries. As a non quant, I constantly feel like the least clever person around, but love the focus my work now has, and kinda feel at home in geek town. A week and a half into it, it's a bit early to say for sure, but I think it's been the right move. Everyone's more serious but super friendly. And it's amazing how much work you get done in the office if you're not mucking about half the time!

Barcelona!!

2011-09-16T19:59:00.007+01:00

A disgrace. My friends' son Max turned 1 recently and I had seen him for about 45 minutes in his entire life. So I booked a ticket to Barcelona to properly introduce myself to the wee man and catch up with his awesome parents. They had moved since I last visited, and I instantly fell in love with Gracia, where they now live. It's lively, leftish, youngish and with loads of quirky shops and little restaurants. Some of the old locals can still be found gossiping on one of the many squares in the area.

In between playing with Max, we had a lovely time catching up and when Martin offered to stay home with Max, Elena and I went out and did some shopping. In my case two identical dresses in grey and black from a local brand. Which was the same dress Elena wore on our Friday night out. So not very original but hey, we're not really at risk of being at the same time at the same place wearing the same dress. Saturday evening was spent drinking Aperol spritzers in Barcelonetta, where the pic was taken. A great weekend, again!

Oh, and one thing: when Martin posted this pic on facebook, one of our mutual friends commented 'Saskia looks ready to be a mum'. I would advise not to interpret this pic as such, or you could get very disappointed. ;-)

Back in Blighty

2011-09-06T08:24:00.004+01:00

Big Ben, a photo by Gypsy Saskia on Flickr.

It had been two months when I landed at City Airport on Thursday evening. Two months of missing London terribly. And it was good to be back. As soon as I got on the DLR this big grin appeared on my face and it didn't leave it all weekend (well it did briefly but I'll get to that later). Reason for the visit was my friend Heather's farewell drinks as she is moving back to New York. It was lovely to be back in The Hide, have a chilli raspberry martini and catch up with colleagues. For the rest of the weekend, brekkies, lunches and dinners were planned. I saw many friends, ate fantastic food, and managed to do some shopping as well. Heels from LK Bennett, tea and granola from Waitrose, books from Waterstones and bits and bobs from Boots. I visited Nero and Pret at least twice a day, reading the papers on my iPad while people watching.

The only 'minor' glitch was the fact I showed up at City Airport for a flight out of Heathrow. Oops. Expensive 'oops' too.... Hopefully a mistake I will never make again. But even after leaving the UK a few hours later and many a pound lighter because of this, I can look back on a fantastic weekend in the city where I'm at my happiest.

My 'hood

2011-08-21T19:45:00.002+01:00

Blue doors, a photo by Gypsy Saskia on Flickr.

After seven or so weeks I still can't get too enthusiastic about the Lowlands, but I do really really love my neighbourhood. Every morning and every night I still admire the view from my bedroom window. But more than that it's the vibe I love. It's a good mixture of locals and foreigners, and has a villagy feel to it. People are friendly and there are heaps of nice restaurants and some great shops. I am o so happy I didn't give up my apartment before moving to London (though if I had I may not have come back but let's not go down that route).

Two weeks ago my friend Heather and her man came over from London, and next month it's Justin from Seattle. Next Viv from London. And hopefully there'll be some friends of friends who need a place to crash sometimes as well. Love having guests and showing them non-touristy Amsterdam. It may not be London but it's still a decent place!

Settling in

2011-07-23T14:46:00.012+01:00

I could write blogs and blogs about things I don't like at the moment. Settling back in is tougher than I thought it'd be. Work culture is different (fewer laughs, more hierarchy), the people act differently (Dutch men don't do courteousness), and don't get me started about supermarkets and canteen lunches. But let's not write about that. It would only make me more miserable. I try and focus on the things that are fun in this place.

Like Lindenhoff. Major Dutch supermarket chains don't do organic/local food very well, but there are alternatives. One is Marqt, a local supermarket chain that really really really should open a branch near me. Another one is Lindenhoff, a farm that's a 30 minute drive from the Dam. It's proper countryside. People ooh and aah at the (very cute) piglets, knowing they'll be bacon when they're old enough. Having had a decent life, by then. The farm shed hosts a little shop where the farm's meat is sold, as well as cheeses and veg from all over the country and sometimes abroad. There are about 10 types of cheese you can sample (and guess what....) as well as a few wines (I was driving and decided not to go near those). The one thing that makes me very happy is the sight of heirloom tomatoes. I can't explain. They don't taste *that* different. But I have a thing for the purple, green and yellow beauties. So tomato salad it is tonight. With a lamb merguez and some broad beans. Yum.

Oh, and another thing that makes me happy every morning and every night is the view from my bed room. It can't get much better than this. The pic doesn't do it justice, but he ho.

Preparing for my move

2011-06-12T16:08:00.004+01:00

Birthday cards, Clippers organic tea, Merchant Gourmet lentils, loads of chocolate, HP sauce, marmelade, lemon curd, Lizi's granola, coconut flakes, dried pineapple, books, books, books and quite a few clothes. My coping mechanism is to surround myself with Englishness when I return home in two and a half (!!) weeks. I can't bring my gym instructors, colleagues or favourite restaurants so I will settle for what I can bring. The movers will probably think I'm nuts (as dI think did the check out girl at Waitrose when she saw all the cards) but he ho. I like the idea of having my english stuff around me in my Amsterdam flat in a few weeks' time. Strange feeling that this time in three weeks, I will have pretty much unpacked....

Oh, and to balance it out: four big bags full of no longer worn clothes for the Marie Curie charity shop and counting....

Times columnist Giles Coren on a roll

2011-06-11T09:03:00.003+01:00

On yer bikes, you whining first-time buyers

Can I just quickly write about the property crisis? It’s massively boring and you must feel free to skip me this week, but I think I have seen to the heart of the matter and arrived at a solution. Although there is a danger I could be wrong, because it is about house prices and mortgages and debt and first-time buyers, and that is all very tedious stuff to which I generally pay no attention and about which I thus know very little.

So correct me if I’ve misunderstood, but isn’t it the case that property prices are now so high that first-time buyers are dying out as a significant market sector? I think that’s what I read. I think it is because they cannot save for the deposits. And so, after a long period of reluctance to lend, banks and building societies are now offering massive percentages again to first-timers who have to dig behind the sofa for 20p pieces and sell their second pair of shoes to raise any sort of capital.

I see, for example, that the Coventry Building Society (who knew Coventry had its own building society?) announced a 90 per cent loan-to-value mortgage this week, and that at least 48 lenders were offering such a thing in May 2011, which is a 60 per cent rise from the 30 lenders who were doing so in 2010.

Furthermore, the Government recently outlined plans to work in conjunction with new homebuilders to offer mortgages to buyers who can raise only a 5 per cent deposit. Five per cent. Loosely translatable as NOTHING. Houses for people with no money at all. Hurrah!
But of course a lot of personal finance experts are saying this is bad, that it puts borrowers in danger of becoming victims of negative equity, losing all their money and generating another crash, like the sub-prime thing in America that nobody understood at all, not even Warren Buffett or Carol Vorderman.

And at the same time, at the same time mark you, as all this is going on, I’m reading that UK house prices are falling everywhere apart from London. The average national house price is now down to £160,519, and in such unfashionable places as, for example, Stoke-on-Trent, the average is £73,000. In Merthyr Tydfil it’s even less: £69k. And that’s an average. So there will be houses there for £30k if you look hard enough. Borrow 95 per cent and you need only find fifteen hundred quid for a down-payment. That’s less than a decent meal in London. So what’s all the fuss?

Oh, you don’t want to live in Merthyr Tydfil? Can’t even point to it on a map? Sure you can. Give it a go.

Nice try, but that’s Belgium. And you really don’t want to live there.

So then what about Stoke? It may be so grim that it doesn’t even have a Pizza Express (on the basis of which staggering fact alone it could legitimately be twinned with the Moon) but if you can’t afford to buy a house in London, you have to be realistic.

The endless expansion of London into some sort of world supercity where just about everybody lives is not a good thing. Nobody benefits by it. We don’t want you here. You don’t like it here. And you can’t afford it anyway. But still you come. All of you.

You finish your education, say goodbye to modder and farder, load your stuff into a hanky on a stick, arrive in the middle of the night and immediately start complaining about how expensive everything is and how the beer isn’t as good as wherever you’ve come from. But you stay. You rent. You complain about this and about that, and bang endlessly on about your boring northern childhood and how you hate us all for being fairy ponces who eat our meals sitting down at a table and don’t know the value of a farthing. But most of all you complain that you can’t afford to buy a house here. As if it were our fault.

But prohibitive pricing is not imposed from above, it is generated internally by a shortage of supply and works automatically as a population control. That’s what a market is (although, yes, fair point, it is also the thing in the town square you used to drive the chickens to with Mam on Saturdays). And if you can’t afford to live here, go somewhere you can.

All the trendy thinking now is anti-London. We’re supposed to be pretending that Britain, like France, Italy, Spain, Germany, America, is a country of many capitals. That cities such as Manchester, Liverpool, Birmingham and that other one, I forget its name, are just as important as London. Scotland now thinks it can get along entirely on its own.

The Prime Minister is constantly having to pretend he’s interested in the regions. The BBC is moving to Salford, for heaven’s sake. And I am constantly badgered to review restaurants out of London by readers who seem to think I haven’t noticed there are other cities in Britain, rather than that I just don’t like them. And now this stupid Olympic torch is going all over the country to be gawped at by grockles who take it as a huge source of pride that a giant cigarette lighter is being schlepped their way by a former bronze medallist in the octathlon, but dumbly accept that if they want to see any actual sport they will have to come to London.

It is one of the principal missions of the modern Left, a keynote democratic ambition, to spread money, media, government and business out of London to the boondocks. So this glorious capitalist crisis of unaffordable housing ought to be celebrated, and the opportunity it presents to spread young, vibrant talent around the country instead of concentrating it all in the grotty old Smoke should be pounced on.

If you can’t afford to buy a house in London, go and buy one in Salford (there are plenty for under a hundred grand, I just checked) and get a job at the BBC. Or buy one in Warrington or Pontefract or Derby. Or in the tragically depopulated countryside where only old people now live because the young ’uns all went to London, and it is as rare to see a nine-year-old as it is to see a foxhunt or a hedgerow.

With a couple of grand for a down payment and an interest-only mortgage you can live practically anywhere apart from the greatest city on Earth. So stop grumbling and go and start something. Where you go, Pizza Express will surely follow. You can’t afford to live in London, so move to Stoke and make it nicer.

• NB: if that’s all just stupid then I draw your attention to research published this week which appears to prove that left-handed people, such as myself, are much thicker than was previously thought. Revealing his findings at Flinders University in Adelaide, Professor Mike Nicholls said that the “reduced cognitive ability” of left-handers is not huge but is similar to the “negative outcome” of being born prematurely.

This comes as a great blow to me because my three massive natural handicaps — being born left-handed, short-sighted and Jewish — have always, I thought, had the tiny upside of at least traditionally connoting a bit of creativity, a bit of reading ability, a dash of low cunning. Now it seems I’m as dim as everyone else. Dimmer. No wonder I never really understand anything.

Next stop: Hong Kong

2011-06-05T16:00:00.002+01:00

View from The Peak, a photo by Gypsy Saskia on Flickr.

I barely recovered from my US jetlag (which felt like a three day hangover but without the booze), or I am packing for Honkers. A short work trip, with the added benefit of meeting a friend from Sing for dinner tomorrow, as she will also be at the meeting on Tuesday and Wednesday. And if my action list is not too urgent, I may be able to wing a few free hours on Wednesday to take in the smells and sights of this cool city. No shopping allowed under any circumstances...

Holidays

2011-05-31T11:53:00.009+01:00

The main goal of my trip to DC, Seattle and NY was to visit friends and family. Second came the bakeries in Seattle (seriously justifies trip to west coast) and third came shopping.

To start with the latter: I had a few things I wanted to buy, which I did: a white iPad, Tory Burch flats, a Marc by Marc Jacobs handbag in a light colour, and books from Kramer's. I managed to get all that, plus picked up a nice DKNY workdress and jacket for the price of Warehouse stuff in the UK. All good, and the iPad has already become an addiction. What a fantastic way to read the papers in small spaces (like airplanes) or when abroad.

Seattle's bakeries were ace. And I managed to find the best sticky bun at Amy's Bakery in The Village in New York. That said, it is a good thing we don't have these bakeries in London, it would easily add a few inches to my waistline.

And friends and family? I had the best of times with them. Spent my days in DC with my bro and his colleagues mostly, and saw Ajax visit the White House and beat DC United. In Seattle I got to meet my friends' youngest, a brilliant kid named Ruby. We did so much I happily refer to my friend's blog for the list. She forgot to mention my highlight though, which was dinner at her parents'. Such wonderful people, and her dad made the best chowder EVER. In New York I browsed the streets of Soho and The Village, and visited the Guggenheim. That plus two playgrounds, as these friends also have two wee ones. Soho playgrounds are full of yummy mummies I noticed, some of whom were definitely models in their previous lives.

So there we go. Back in London after the best of times. Awfully jetlagged, and slightly in denial of the fact my days in London are almost over.

Sun sun sun

2011-04-26T21:23:00.006+01:00

My first easter in London was wet and grey, if I remember well. And though the weather is generally better here than in the Dam, of course that weekend it wasn't. The second year I planned to go away, until a friend anounced he'd celebrate his 30th that weekend and hope we'd stay in town. Bastard then decided to stay in Peru for a bit and Easter weekend turned out wet and grey with no friends in town. So this year I planned to go away once more. Until friend Gorkem suggested a visit, and I decided to stay. And third time lucky: what a glorious weekend. Ridiculously warm for the time of the year.

Poor GG had to spend Saturday by himself as I'd gotten sick on Friday night and couldn't move, but luckily I was alive and kicking on Sunday. Brick Lane, Shoreditch, Spitalfields, via the empty City to London Bridge and the boat back to the Wharf. A perfect Sunday. Monday was spent walking from my place to Tate Modern, with a lunch break at Dim T in front of my office (new office, I may add, in the most amazing location, I can see Tower Bridge from my desk!). And off GG went again. A weekend with a fab friend, in the sun, after a few stressful weeks at work was just perfect. Glad I stayed!

Quinoa FTW

2011-04-15T09:08:00.002+01:00

I regularly chuck this Southamerican grain in salads, or eat it with mushrooms and mozzarella. It's healthy, filling, and has a nice bite and slightly bitter, nuttery taste. Had it not been for POD, I wouldn't have associated it with brekkie though. POD is my favourite London take away food place. Crunchy salads, yummy soups and thai curries that are to die for. And as a recent addition to their breakfast menu: quinoa mango pots. At £2 a piece a bit pricey to have on a regular basis, so I succesfully tried to copy it at home.

The 'recipe': an espresso cup of quinoa is enough for 2-3 days. Cook it and mix one part of the cooked quinoa with two parts Greek yoghurt (I like Rachel's Organic for this). Chop a mango in bigger chunks and really small chunks (puree would be best if you have a food processor). Add agave or maple syrup to taste and done. Keeps in the fridge for about 2 days. Yum!

In Dutch....why I don't want to go back

2011-04-09T19:53:00.003+01:00

M'n laatste kwartaal hier.... Een klein jaar geleden hakte ik de knoop door na een gesprek met mijn Nederlandse partner. Ik zou terug komen. Hij en enkele andere collega's namen een risico door me de kans op uitzending te bieden (men dacht en masse dat ik niet terug zou komen), en hebben me enorm gesteund toen werk hier vorig jaar klote was. En terug ga ik. Ik heb een belofte gedaan en die zal ik nakomen. Op z'n minst voor een jaar.

Maar ik ga terug naar aan land met een Sahar quotum. Waar een minister en de PVV koehandel drijven over een meisje. Waar mijn Turkse vriend zich niet langer welkom voelt. Waar mensen hun handtas dichter tegen zich aan klemmen als mijn oud-klasgenootje (van Srilankese afkomst) in de tram stapt. Naar intolerantie, botheid, en ieder voor zich en god (zolang het niet allah is) voor ons allen. Tuurlijk is Londen niet perfect. Maar ik voel me thuis in deze tolerante stad. Waar mannen even wachten als je aan komt lopen om de deur voor je open te houden. Waar iedereen zich in rijen van tien opstelt om 's ochtends in een veel te drukke metro te stappen. Waar een zekere courtesy heerst die ik in Nederland zo mis. Ik ga terug. En wil het minimaal een jaar geven. Maar het zal me niet verbazen als ik bij de volgende Ashes weer hier woon. En weer fijn banter heb met collega's over de cricketprestaties van de poms en de aussies.

A day trip to the coast

2011-04-04T20:56:00.004+01:00

Beach huts from beh ind, a photo by Gypsy Saskia on Flickr.

When friend Sandra emailed me she'd like to get out of town when next visiting me, I thought that was a brilliant idea. When I realised the CWC final wasn't in March but on the 2nd of April, the brilliance was lost on me. So we agreed if Australia would make it to the final, we'd watch the match. If not, we'd go to Whitstable. And Whitstable it was... Though dubbed 'Islington on Sea', I wouldn't have heard of it if my bro hadn't sent me a NYT article two years ago about this coastal town in Kent. It looked pretty and was known for its seafood. Sold. So off we went. Sun, a nice train ride (d*^khead ticket dude at St Pancras more than made up for by the sweetest ticket lady on the train), the sea, seafood and a close friend. Ingredients to a perfect day.

East London FTW

2011-03-27T20:13:00.011+01:00

Every so often I re-fall in love with East London. Today was one of those occasions. My friend Liesbet was here, and I decided to take her to Spittalfield Markets for brunch at LUXE. Good food, good coffee, and fantastic people watching. The shops around the market are generally pretty cool, I especially love the florists with the beautiful bouquets that I cannot afford. There is also a pretty funky hairdresser. The SM Barbie dolls in the pic were in its window. Only in the East end...

From Spitalfields it's a short walk to Brick Lane. Turn right and you will have to fight off a gazzillion Bangladeshi restaurant-staff trying to lure you in. Turn left and you will find loads of street food, cool market stalls, and loads of vintage shops. Actually, don't turn into Brick Lane straight away. First there is Nude Espresso, serving one of the best brews in London (staff fully dressed...).

From Brick Lane we wandered (well...speedwalked) to Columbia Road as I wanted to buy flowers just before the market closed. On a beautiful spring day like this it's ridiculously busy, but fun nonetheless. Three bunches of flowers for a tenner brought spring into my flat. As we walked a million kilometers yesterday, we then took a bus home, through Shoreditch High Street. I was still too full to consider tea, or I would have taken Liesbet to Pizza East, a good New York style pizza place in the Tea Building.

The things listed above could be anywhere. But what makes the East End so special is its variety of people. Once the Jewish part of London, it is now the home of many Bengali and hipsters. Especially Brick Lane and Columbia Road are fantastic for people watching: it's where all the cool Londoners seem to hang out on Sunday afternoons. And between the Alexa and Russell look-a-likes, you find the stalls handing out leaflets on Islam, and grey men with kufis. A good mixture.

Sword of Damocles

2011-03-25T12:21:00.002Z

"We really didn't think you'd come back", several Dutch colleagues told me in recent conversations. Whoever betted that I would, should be a rich man soon. Next week April will be upon us. And with April, my last three months in London. The 'one more year' was fine. The 'six more months' bearable. But the daunting thought I have only three months left in this city that is more home to me than any other has ever been....it's tough. Yes I will be back heaps of time, made easier by the fact I'll have every other Friday off as of July. But I will so miss the mixture of people, the friendliness, the buildings, the restaurants, the Sunday papers, the gym, the supermarkets, even the commute! Back to massive traffic jams, supermarkets not unsimilar to your local 7-11, rudeness and miserable service in very average restaurants and an utter lack of cricket and rugby convo. I know it also means back to friends and family. And there are of course decent places to eat in Amsterdam. And the canals are pretty. And maybe the supermarkets have improved. But the closer I get to the end of June, the more certain I am my move back home will be a temporary one. Let's see what I will call home in a few years' time. Melbs? London? Or will something happen that makes me want to stay in the Dam? Time will tell.

Ruggers in Cardiff

2011-03-18T08:37:00.003Z

Mary and I went to Cardiff last week to watch Ireland play Wales. We didn't get the result we wanted, but what a fantastic day. The Millennium Stadium is spectacular and the fans of both teams are just the best. The bloke in the picture is an Irishman, fresh of the boat to County Clapham. He decided to marry Mary there and then. Something to do with her relos having road facing land...

I wrote a blog for a Dutch sports blog - in Dutch. Sorry non-Dutchies, too lazy to translate!

Brixton

2011-03-06T14:40:00.004Z

There's no need to leave London every time I want to explore something different. Since friend Zoe moved to Brixton, it's become one of my favourite places to feel like being abroad. The indoor markets are full of exotic products: African fabrics, many types of yams, small colourful peppers, you name it. The butchers sell parts of animals I have only ever seen at African or Asian markets. One of them tried to tempt us into buying a bag of pigs' feet. 'Just a quid dear!'. A google search tells me it's very good for your skin but I think I'll stick to avoiding fags and relying on Chanel to make me look 27 (ahum). One of the nicest things of the market, are all the little cafes. The one selling sourdough pizza is apparently very famous, and the queue must have been at least an hour. We settled for a Colombian place where we ordered the 'Saturday lunch'. Once we were eating, we noticed we were pretty much the only non-Southamericans there. Always a good sign. Our soup of corn, chicken and potato was absolutely delicious. And I'd go back for the juices alone. My soursop was wonderfully sweet and sour at the same time, and Zoe's passionfruit a jug of deliciousness. One to remember!

Just a song

2011-03-05T21:41:00.000Z

Beautiful song, great 70s video

Sports junkie

2011-02-26T15:58:00.003Z

Between the Six Nations and cricket world cup, little is happening in my life. This time of the year I am generally anti social due to the ruggers, but throw in a cricket world cup as well and I am a true hermit until 7pm on weekends. Last weekend was a rugby free weekend, so I went to the Dam to catch up with friends. But that's about it as far as day time socialising goes.

The weekend of 12 March will be reasonably sociable, as my rugby mad friend Mary will be visiting. And thanks to a rugby playing colleague, I got allocated two tickets to the Wales-Ireland game. Mary and I will spend about 8 hours travelling for less than 2 hours rugby. But hey ho. It will be my best chance to watch this great sport at the Millenium Stadium.

From 3 April onwards, my own sociable self will reappear. Until then: sports it is!

A week in the Algarve

2011-02-06T21:27:00.004Z

Albufeira beach
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

When we booked it back in October, all we hoped for was that the Algarve in this time of year would be sunny. Temperature wouldn't matter, just sun on our skins please. And that's what we got. A week of sun and never more clouds than the ones in the pic. Friend Ilse and I have a very healthy looking tan, and stocked up on vitamin D.

Our little Fiat Punto took us from west to east, and even into Andalucia for a few hours. The Algarve is beautiful this time of year. Citrus fruits everywhere and some blooming trees already. And, big plus, hardly any tourists. Ok, we spotted about 4 under the age of 40, but the senior Dutch, Germans and Poms seemed to have mostly stuck to golf resorts. I imagine the Algarve in July/August must be hell.

There was a drawback to this peace and quiet tho.... Few restaurants were opened. And we both like our food. I'd made a shortlist based on Tripadvisor but the top two were closed, as were many others. Which led us to some interesting experiences:

There was a place we referred to as Nicola (which seemed to be similar to referring to an Amsterdam bar as Heineken), where we ate twice. In the tourist heart of the city, but incredibly friendly, and properly home made food. On the first night, the owner apologised it had taken so long, as they hadn't pre-prepared anything because of low volumes. Little did we carre, the chicken peri peri had been delicious, the service homey, and the port good.

The next day we went to a place where even the Brazilian waiter spoke some Dutch ('portje van de huis?'). We were tired and hungry so had decided not to look further. Dickhead slimey Dutch waiter clearly didn't like us any more after I concluded, passive-agressive mastered to perfection, that his sauces weren't home made (Ilse asked for an ingredient to be left out, which couldn't be done). His response that 'we can't do that in a busy restaurant like this' made me burst out laughing.

The place where we went the last night was cute and frequented by locals. Nice owner, menu not in Dutch, good food. And Grolsch beer. Or hold on, the Grolsch bottle didn't contain beer. The four locals next to us drank something like homemade grappa from it and offered us some too. With a dried fig. I love grappa, but hell, this was strong. Ilse didn't finish it, and the owner happily polished hers off. A gezellig experience.

One resto we were very keen to visit, was open thank god. Henrique Leis, in Almancil. As we both wanted to drink, we opted for a bus and taxi combo. Good decision, as we gave the sommelier carte blanche for our wine flight and he sure as hell did his job! A seven course tasting menu with three glasses of different Portuguese wines was amazing. Scallops, crayfish, quail, steak, a never ending food heaven. What a joy.

And now after a week of monkfish and seafood cataplane, chicken piri piri, vino verde and grilled sardines, it's back to healthy homecooked meals in London. With my new cookbook (Ottolenghi's Plenty) as inspiration!

Hotel Saskia

2011-01-23T21:00:00.002Z

Hotel Saskia will relocate in five months and a week. And those last five months and a week are going to be busy! This week alone three friends booked their fligths to London. Then there are a few placeholders, and some visits that were booked last year. So between my trips (Algarve, Guernsey and US) and these visits, free weekends are becoming scarce. Although I do really need my me-time, I am thrilled to have all these visitors. A whole weekend with friends gives such an extra dimension compared to dinner dates or running sessions used to meet up at home. It's proper quality time. I may leave my friends for an hour or so to exercise, but other than that, it's a lot of time spent in each others company. Chatting, eating, drinking, sightseeing. It's simple as that. When I am back in the Dam this summer, we won't have to pick up where we left it, as we never left it. It's good.

2010

2010-12-31T09:26:00.007Z

Amsterdam canal in winter
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

I yelled at the tele, fists clenched, and shed a tear when Sven Kramer missed Gold due to a miscommunication with his coach. I felt even more sorry for Kemkers than I did for Kramer. For the WC final I bought an excruciatingly expensive ticket to the Dam. In complete silence I watched the last few minutes in Cafe Tapmarin. It took some time before my colleagues stopped commenting on De Jong's talent for karate. And the Ashes? Don't get me started.... Not a great year for sports, 2010.

Hours were spent on twitter and news websites, trying to keep up to date with the world of politics. British elections, followed by Dutch elections (and don't forget the Australian). A slightly trolleyed Simon Schama on the BBC, a massive applause for Femke Halsema on politiek24.nl. An unusual coalition cabinet here, an unusual minority cabinet in Holland. The Christian Democrats and UK Labour congresses I watched on Twitter and the BBC streaming, both from my bed in Langkawi, Malaysia. Fascinated by the changes in the political landscapes.

Alexander (Lee) McQueens death shocked me. So young, so talented. Mulisch' death came as less of a surprise, especially after an overeager Dutch ceefax journo released the news way before it was meant to be shared with the world. Hanses Dijkstal and Van Mierlo, Miep Gies, Jan Blokker, Leslie Nielsen. The world lost a lot of special people.

And then there were Wikileaks, the miners, The Engagement, the iPad. Things that dominated the news for part of 2010. And of course the ash cloud of the vulcano with the name I cannot pronounce. The fecker was responsible for me not seeing my bro for a whole year, as we were supposed to meet in Holland that week and only he made it. Haiti, Aung San Suu Kyi, bad and good news throughout the year.

When my LinkedIn travel stat told me I'd visited nine countries this year, I figured it must be a mistake. But it wasn't. I made about 17 trips in 2010, only 3 of which were for work. The joys of living in Britain, tickets are relatively cheap and choice is plenty. I visited friends in Vienna, Melbourne, Singapore and Barcelona. Made several trips to the Dam and discovered Malaysia.

Also, 2010 was the year I decided to return back to Holland in 2011, for at least 2 years. The picture at the top of this piece is to remind myself that Amsterdam isn't so bad. That said, it's been a difficult choice. If work weren't a factor, I'd stay here but as things are...the best job for me in the near future will be in the Dam.

And finally, I turned into a bit of a shopaholic this year. I buy less but better stuff and spend hours online scavenging for it on sites such as mywardrobe.com, netaporter.com and theoutnet.com. All of a sudden my wardrobe contains Vivienne Westwood, Nicole Farhi, Missoni, Jil Sander and Marc Jacobs. The northener in me makes sure to buy these things in the sale, but still...I have definitely been Londified.

But the most important? 2010 was another year without deaths and illnesses, with the exception of one of my bosses. He has leukemia and is constantly in my mind. It's a blessing to not have lost anyone dear, to be healthy and know that the people that matter most are too. And that made 2010 a great year. No trips or handbags could ever compensate for that.

Winter wonderland

2010-12-18T19:06:00.002Z

Wandsworth Common
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

It was snowing so hard I didn't fancy leaving the house. Not owning a winter hat type thing didn't help either. But as my friend Zoe had booked us a table at Chez Bruce, I decided to brave it, looking slightly ridiculous in nice clothes and a Cricket Australia sun hat to cover my hair. But I needn't have worried. It may have been cold and slippery, but man, was it great to be outside! Massive snowmen in Clapham Common, a white and quiet Wandsworth Common, everything looked ever so pretty.

And Chez Bruce? Fantastic. We both ordered pork belly as our main, with some veg and the best caramelised onion I've ever had. The cheese board for desert nearly killed me (it's hours later and I am still full), but it was delicious. What a perfect way to spend a cold December Saturday arvo.

Naughty

2010-12-17T21:42:00.004Z

The other day, one of the directors at work called me naughty, and my friend Viv nice. It made me giggle, but only later I realised how appropriate that comment is with regards to my new perfume. It's Vivienne Westwood's Naughty Alice. I bought it in York last month, as a birthday pressie either from my folks or from myself (jury still out). Today I wore it (to go with my Vivienne Westwood pumps and t-shirt). It's sexy and musky and floral all in one. Ylang ylang, violets and black roses. The packaging caught my eye in the shop, and the smell is equally beautiful. When they threw in a free bottle of body lotion, I was sold.

Edinburgh

2010-12-08T09:14:00.002Z

4pm shot
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

The Brits don't deal with snow very well. And that is an understatement. Fair enough, at some point there was so much of it that I can understand things went a bit pearshaped but seriously....even on day 1 the train network was a complete mess. It took colleagues over 4 hours to commute home. Madness. I was lucky though. Tubes were pretty much running as normal, and when I showed up at the airport for my flight to Edinburgh on Friday, it was one of the few flights taking off from City airport. Without tea and coffee mind you, as the water supplies had frozen. Arctic circumstances in east London. I also managed to fly home as planned on Sunday, only for the snow to shut down Scotland again a few hours later.

So. Edinburgh. What a pretty city, especially in the snow. It was great to see my friend Lyndsay again, whom I hadn't seen since our farewell party in the Dam 2,5 years ago. Sometimes it doesn't matter how much time has passed, you just pick things up again. The snow did mean however, that I could only move slowly and had wet feet all the time. Wellies had pretty much sold out in the entire city. Other than that, it was a great trip. I wandered around for hours, stayed in Saturday evening and watched Strictly and read a book in my comfy B&B room. I like these weekends. It is not just about discovering new places, but the me-time is ever so nice. I could never be a hermit full time, but man, am I good at it occasionally!

Sleep deprived

2010-11-27T22:55:00.004Z

We're only three days into the Ashes and I am already so sleep deprived it ain't funny. For many reasons I wish Oz was closer, and this bloody time difference is on top of the list at the moment. And this is only the Brissie test. Starts at midnight UK time. Sydders and Melbs are half an hour later. But man, do I love it.

Take Thursday night. I went to bed rather excited (and rather pissed, but that's a different matter) as our batting was only just underway. Waking up Friday morning to a 220/5 and a wicketless final session (and a sore head) meant I had a slight spring in my step, making my way to work. My English partner and other colleagues were clearly starting to get worried, which only added to my joy.

Come Friday night, I stayed awake on espresso and jelly beans. Close to 2am, when Australia were at 308/5 I couldn't possibly stay awake any longer. Waking up this morning, the first thing I did was to check the score on my Blackberry. 481/10. Bring it on. And now, I am again counting on espresso and jelly beans to keep me awake for another 2,5 hours or so. In 2014 I probably need to take 6 weeks unpaid leave and just go to Oz. For now, I am accepting the fact that I will look like a ghost on valium by early January. It's all worth it.

A weekend in York

2010-11-16T09:31:00.007Z

River Foss
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Knowing I have (much!) less than a year left in Old Blighty, I am determined to make the most of it. And that includes venturing out of London every now and then. Last weekend, friend Ilse and I boarded a northbound train, and were in York in two hours.

There are three distinct facts about York. 1. It's very pretty. 2. People speak funny. ;-) 3. Girls on Saturday night wear no clothes. Or hardly any. They do wear ridiculously high heels.

On 3: I don't quite get it. If you wear virtually no clothes, you will have to empty a Wetherspoon's supply of booze to stay warm in November. That doesn't quite match with the enormous heels tho, let alone on the cobbled streets. So this is a bit of a mystery to me.

Anyway. York was lovely. Pretty little streets with little shops. Nice food. Friendly people. Ilse and I both beeing foodies, we made sure to eat very well. Nineteen was a Yorkshire restaurant, with interesting dishes. Cosy and delish. The Blue Bicycle used to be a brothel, and came recommended by a work friend. Best resto in York apparently, which meant we could only get a lunch booking. So Saturday arvo was spent eating lovely food and sipping prosecco, cab sauv and tawny port. Dinner was a simple pasta while we watched the locals. Sunday lunch was afternoon tea at Betty's tearooms, including the obligatory Carpenters played by a pianist. It was lovely though in all its oldfashionedness (is that a word?).

Next UK trip: Edinburgh in two weeks time. Yeah!

Movember

2010-11-09T08:44:00.004Z

It's that time of the year when more and more 'taches pop up around me. At work, quite a few men have started to grow a moustache. The reason? Movember. The month when men grow 'taches to support prostate cancer research. A bit like October is breast cancer awareness month for women. With one massive difference: men take the Mickey out of themselves by looking silly. For women, it's all about having fun and doing pink things in the name of breast cancer awareness. Every year, that annoys me more. I prefer the men's style. Hands down. A month of looking stupid, and reminding everyone who sees you of the importance of prostate cancer research. Bring on the mo's!

Busy bee

2010-11-05T20:37:00.002Z

Working on a proposition for our Insurance clients, supporting two partners in bringing Finance practitioners across the globe together, working on a big proposal for Singapore (gotta love time differences....) and a two day conference in Zurich. That's been pretty much all I've been doing in the past two weeks, bar a few gym visits. So this weekend is all about not working. I nearly killed myself in the latin dance class in the gym tonight, watched Broken Embraces, and had a few glasses of vino. The weekend has officially begun, thank the lord!

Books

2010-10-16T09:54:00.010+01:00

One of the best things about traveling by myself is being able to spend days reading without having to talk to someone. I must have gone through about 12 books on my last hols. Fair few detectives (Jonathan Kellerman, Faye Kellerman, Ian Rankin, Michael Connely, Janet Evanovich, Henning Mankell) and a couple of 'proper books'. And good ones at that.

First I read Three Cups of Tea, the remarkable story of American mountaineer Greg Mortenson, who after an failed attempt to climb K2, started building schools for girls in northern Pakistan (that's a massive shortcut - read the book for the full story!). The story is about friendship, about courage and about rural Pakistan. It's very touching, and incredibly fascinating. Without being an expert, I also strongly believe how educating kids in these schools will help balance the indoctrination of poor kids in many of the Saudi-funded madrassas. His second book is on my Amazon wish list, I cannot wait to read it.

Next there was The Family Way, recommended by a friend. I'd heard of Tony Parsons of course, but had never read his books. I really enjoyed this novel about three sisters and their struggles around having kids. Sister 1 can't conceive, sister 2 does not ever want to be a mom (or does she) and sister 3 ends up pregnant after some fun between the sheets with an random Australian. Impressive how a man puts himself in women's shoes so well. And with humour too. Again, some of his other books are on my wish list.

Purple Hibiscus is Nigerian Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's first novel. I read her second, Half of a Yellow Sun last year and loved it. I am glad I read than one first. Despite it being set in Nigeria's civil war, I found it less gruesome than Purple Hibiscus at times. That said, it is a fantastic debut. It tells the story of a 15 yo girl and her brother, who grow up in a wealthy, catholic Nigerian family. Their father is a religious fanatic and does the most awful things to them, emotionally and physically. In his eyes, he does them a favour punishing them for their sins as he helps them become good catholics. Her aunt and cousins show the reader another Nigeria. Working for the university, the aunt is struggling financially, but the happy household full of laughter is a world away from the one of the main character. Both come together and split again several times throughout the book. Read it for yourself. It's brilliant.

And I managed to save the best for last. The Lacuna is the first book I've read by Barbara Kingsolver. It's the story of a half Mexican, half American boy-grows-man who spends part of his teens and twenties with Frieda Kahlo, her painter husband, and the guests of their household, Trotsky being one of them. When he goes back to the US at some point, he becomes a very succesful novelist. Until his past catches up with him as J. Edgar Hoover's witch hunt for unamericanism gets him in trouble. The story slowly unfolds through the main character's notebooks and letters. The Lacuna is rich, colourful, and incredibly well written. Best book I've read in a while. Lucky I noticed it at Island Bookstore during a recent visit to Amsterdam!

And didn't I read anything rubbish? Oh yes. Number Ten, by Sue Townsend, a gift from a friend at my farewell party back in '08. The title refers to Downing Street. The Prime Minister is said to be too estranged from the people, and decides to travel the country, disguised as a woman. Worst book I read in ages. What a waste of time.

Home sweet home

2010-10-09T10:26:00.003+01:00

Coming home is pretty much as nice as being on holiday. I am sat on the couch with the Indy, Times and a coffee, watching the cricket in the mean time. A very normal Saturday morning, and a very happy one at that.

My days at the beach were bliss. Though it poured during the night, the days were pretty much dry which allowed me to spend hours with a book on the deckchairs. Thanks to a lovely fella with a second hand book shop, I swapped my detectives 2 for 1 until I had nothing more to swap. The more literary books I read are now on my book shelves, where they belong. Before flying home I had a last day in KL. I stayed at the lovely Royale Chulan, who kindly upgraded me to a club room, which meant access to the club lounge but, more importantly, provided me with a balcony with view of the Twin Towers. Awesome. I pretty much spent my last day having a mani, facial and massage, browsing the luxury shops in the mall in between. Got my Chanel khaki rose nail polish that had sold out in Singapore, so all happy. That was pretty much the extend of my shopping too, which was good! A last hainan chicken rice, a last portion of sateh, and off to the airport I was. All tanned and chilled!

A special friend

2010-10-05T15:57:00.004+01:00

After graduating in '98, I decided to go traveling in New Zealand for three months. Back then, a call home cost a guilder a minute, and internet cafes were nowhere near as common as they are now. Traveling solo, loads of people suggested I go see there second/third/fourth uncle, cousin, long lost sister and what have you. I ended up contacting relo's of my friend Elisabeth (and visiting them in Marlborough) as well as Brien. Brien was a funny contact. My nan's friend, a rotary member, had been host to a rotary chapter from New Zealand the year before, and Brien was part of that group. So basically, I dropped him a note saying I was the grand daughter of some rotary guy he'd met, and would he be keen for a coffee once I made it to the land of the great white cloud.

And this is what you get when you combine Irish (he was born on the Emerald Isle) and kiwi hospitality. Brien drove over an hour to the airport in Auckland to meet me, showed me around town, and dropped me off at a hostel he'd booked for me (in a house once owned by some queen). He gave me his number and told me to be in touch when I would make it to Hamilton. So I did, a while later. His wife and him wined and dined me, made me call my folks to tell them all was well, and gave me a bed for the night. Still, without really knowing me. Next day, Brien announced they were taking me to their bach (kiwi word for beach house) for a few days. We ate the best fish and chips on arrival, I had a kick ass bedroom (being used to 8 bed dorms that was a total luxury), and couldn't believe my luck. I vividly remember what the place looked liked. I felt so awefully welcome, and at the same time not a guest but a friend. Weeks later, after I'd traveled the South Island, we met again at the bach, shortly before I went back home to start a working life early '99.

So almost 12 years it's been, I realised when Brien emailed me today and told me they had bought a new house ('hint, hint'). We met for dinner when I lived in Sydney in '02, and had planned to meet again in Melbs last year, a trip they had to cancel because of illness of his wife. Twice a year, Brien sends me an email. Always him, never his wife. The email always includes jokes about Australians. And the emails always give me the warmest feeling inside. He's well over 70 I think, and lives as far away as possible, but I consider Brien to be a dear friend, and hope to see him in New Zealand on my next trip down under.

Next stop: beach

2010-10-03T08:35:00.004+01:00

Last few days of my hols - the beach. It rained for about 36 hour straight but thank god it stopped this morning. A local cheerfully anounced rainy season had started and I could see my three days at the beach being spent in the room at the resort. Which is where I am now but only to get out of the sun for a bit. iPod in my ears, (note)book in my hands. Moved to resort from rainforest guesthouse this morning and owner dropped me off which was really sweet. Barely saw any Dutch on my entire trip and in this 12 room resort there's at least one Dutch couple plus a family of five. Popular with the cloggies, clearly. So...beach until Wednesday arvo. A couple of days to reach an even higher level of laziness. I am sure I am capable of that. In the meantime I keep myself up to date of the weird circus that is Dutch politics. Unbelievable. Good thing I'm living across the pond for a while....

The best lyrics ever

2010-10-03T08:25:00.002+01:00

Came across this song today and realised I hadn't played it in a while. Whereas it's really a song you should play all the time. For its truth and wisdom.

Langkawi in pics

2010-10-01T10:10:00.004+01:00

My home for the week

2010-09-29T14:35:00.004+01:00

Pondok Keladi guesthouse
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Pondok Keladi. My home away from home on Langkawi. It's a six bedroom guesthouse, owned by a Eurasian couple, surrounded by palm trees and rice fields. Four dogs and a cat live at the guesthouse, hens, roosters, cows, monkeys, squirrels, and what sounds like crickets and frogs share the area. For my week of doing bugger all but eat, read and explore a bit, this is just perfect.

In about 25 mins I am on the main drag, where all the restos and mini marts are. Loads of seafood and some very nice western salads. It's low season, which probably explains why quite a few places are closed. Still enough tourists tho to keep it lively. Tourists from everywhere. I hear a lot of Russian, German and Australian but also a lot of languages I do not know.

This being a predominantly moslim island, it is the first time I find myself surrounded by tourists in chadors (excluding the Arab invasion of London in summer). Quite a lot of them too. Several resorts list prayer rooms as one of their selling points. At the end of the little road that leads to my guesthouse, a mosque calls for prayer five times a day. Your regular ham and bacon have been substituted by turkey ham and beef bacon everywhere I have been so far. Some of the mini marts sell beer, but I haven't seen wine or anything stronger outside the duty free shop (which is also on the main road). It's a funny thing to see the women in chadors sitting on a beach next to scantily clad Russian women in full make up. But at the same time, it's good to see that with a bit of give and take, this beautiful island can be appreciated by all.

Comfort food at its best

2010-09-23T10:12:00.005+01:00

Comfort food at its best
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Hainan chicken rice. I first had it in Singapore in '02. Ever since it is's been one of my favourite comfort foods. When I make it at home, I cheat as I cook it for one or two people only. But here I can eat it like it's meant to be eaten, in one of the many specialised restaurants.

Yesterday shortly after seven I wandered out to a resto I'd spotted earlier to have my fix. To my surprise they'd sold out. Very frustrating as I could smell the ginger and soya sauce and all. Today I went back for lunch. The lady who I'd tried to order with the night before recognised me instantly and said 'chicken!' as she showed me a table. Five minutes later the fragrant stock, chicken, chilli and garlic dips and rice along with lettuce in oyster sauce were brought to my table. Including a fresh apple juice, the bill came to less than £3. There is something about the combination of ginger, chilli and soya sauce with the tender chicken and neutral rice that is to die for. When in Sing this weekend, I will make sure to ask my friend to take me to a hawker place to eat their version as well. Oh Asian food, I worship thee!

Kota Kinabalu, Sabah

2010-09-21T13:15:00.006+01:00

Fish on its way
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

The second destination of my trip. Sabah is the non-independent Malaysian part of Borneo. Famous for its mountain and orangutans. Neither of which I will see. Well, technically I saw two orangutans in the wild park, but the area where you can see them in the wild is too far away. And the famous mountain? Would love to do that another time but I didn't plan enough time here to climb it. Not having done my research, I figured it'd be a day trip rather than an overnighter. So there are two reasons to come back!

Having a brill time still. Malaysia is wonderfully diverse. KK is very different from KL, it's nowhere near as big and not very pretty. However, the street of my hotel is quite nice and the resto's by the shore have a lovely view. The pic in this blog I took at the place where the fishermen's boats dock. Catch of the day was sent to the restaurants it seemed. Next to it, is the most amazing fish market I have ever seen. The fish is so simply but nicely presented and the colours of some of the fish were quite something. Also close by was the night market where the same fish, now grilled, seemed to be on display. I happily snapped along with my camera, after asking permission from all of the fish sellers.

As I did want to see some indigenous wildlife while here, I went to a Wild Life park today. By taxi which seems to be how one gets around here (backpackers who are roughing it excluded). Very few buses and no other public transport. Having lived in the city with the world's most expensive taxis (Amstie), this felt truly weird. Weird but very convenient. The park was very well done. Loads of animals, and loads of space for them. I skillfully avoided the 100 or so school kids most of the time, and had a lovely morning walking around and taking pics. The monkeys and otters kept me entertained for quite some time.

And back in the hotel now after an early dinner. Not quite the Sheraton but at 16 squid a night it's great. Superfriendly staff, a comfy bed and decent shower. Free bottles of water and cups of tea are gratefully accepted. Next door is a supermarket that seems to cater for expats and affluent locals. They even sell King Island , which is an amzing cheese brand from an island near Tassie and not that easy to get even in Australia. Very weird. I embraced my inner Australian by buying Arnott's shapes and a women's magazine but decided to give the cheese a miss. Not very handy when travelling.

Kuala Lumpur!

2010-09-19T04:20:00.003+01:00

Couple on busy square
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Travel is not just about the destination, but also about the journey. And a fine journey it was. A two hour stopover at Schiphol allowed me to stock up on Dutch magazines and have a McKroket (not quite the same as Van Dobben but hey....can't have it all). At the gate, two little blond Dutch boys were in awe of the KLM pilot who dutifully posed for them. Very cute. My stewart wasn't as good looking as the pilot (could have been the missing cap) but he made sure I had a good flight. Flying economy comfort was a good choice. Still didn't get much sleep but it sure was the quieter part of the plane and extra recline is a treat on 12 hour flight. My cabbie to the hotel had lived in Amsterdam and London, which was a first for any Asian cabbie I have ever met. Lovely chatty guy. And oh, the joys of checking into a flash hotel. Many people (and I used to be one of them) say it's not wirth the money as you only sleep there on hols. Well, did I prove them wrong. My jetlag kept me awake most of the first night. I went through half a Dutch magazine and half a Janet Evanovich. All between 1am and 5am. Only to fall back asleep around 5am, and not waking up until 11am. So half of my Saturday was gone before it started. Anyway. A nice shower, majestic bed, and good room service are treats I truly appreciate for a couple of nights straight on arrival these days. And what guesthouse would provide a room with massive windows on the 30th floor overlooking the city (albeit not the Petrona towers)?

When I finally was out and about, I headed to Chinatown and Little India. Amazing streetlife. Women with beautiful headscarfs and dressed in najib (or whatever you call the ones that just leave a little bar free for the eyes), the latter something I'll never get used too. Many women in sarongs in Little India, and in the centre too. I visited a chinese, hinduh and buddhist temple, and ate tasty street food. At the hottest part of the day, I stumbled across the Central Markets that had a nice cool coffeeshop with WIFI in it. Two hours later I had uploaded pics, read Facebook and Twitter updates and had some lunch. Most modern coffee shops here have free WIFI, great. And despite it being past 2pm, it was still bloody hot. I walked the pace of an average European 80yo, while drinking my body weight in water.

Dinner the first two nights was a hawker's place in the center. Tourists and locals alike eat Thai, Chinese, or Indian style street food on plastic stools. Cheap as chops and a huge variety. Grilled frogs and frog porridge are particularly popular with the locals, but less so with the tourists it seems. A stall that did deep-fry-your-own-skewers looked very interesting. A local couple offered me to try some of theirs, but I gave that a miss, something I later regretted. Might try some tomorrow. The centre is lively and right by the monorail station breakdancers and living statues entertain the crowds. Many coffee shops are lined along the main drags, and the first thing I saw getting off the monorail was a bloody Debenhams!

In the elevator back to my room, a (gay) American guy started complaining to me that he felt fat. 'I put this suit on today but am so fat I won't be able to take it off anymore'. I thought he was rather fit and good looking, said he didn't look fat (figured I should leave out the fit and good looking), and out he walked with a 'sleep well, love' and a big warm smile. And sleep well was what I did. Or at least between 4am and 9am.

Eight more sleeps!

2010-09-08T21:10:00.005+01:00

For the past three weeks I have stopped myself from starting to pack my suitcase. As of tonight, I have given up. Too much excitement. Like a quarter back at the prospect of being in the cheerleaders' dressing room. A priest on his way to a playground (appropriately timed, this comparison, as the pope is almost on his way here). Or the good old kid walking into a candy store. The excitement that comes with the prospect of something big. In my case, a trip to my beloved Asia. Malaysia and Singapore, to be precise. In eight sleeps. With a busy weekend and week ahead (busy in terms of visitors, diners and lunches that is). So I allow myself to start packing. Eight books at the bottom of my back pack. Two books in the carry on luggage. Beauty products. Bikinis. I do tend to get my priorities right. All I need to do next is wack in some underwear, clothes, pack my camera gear and Bob's your uncle. Kuala Lumpur, here I come! Almost!

Ta'if

2010-09-04T17:10:00.005+01:00

"The top notes are pink pepper, dates and saffron, the heart is of rose, freesia, orange flower and jasmine, and the base is of broom and amber. Ta'if is a earthy rose scent; the broom, amber and saffron in the blend make an accord that gives me an olfactory impression of the warm earth from the Arabian town of Ta'if where the roses are grown. The rose in the scent is voluptuous and full blown, supported by the warmth and spice of the rest of the blend. This is definitely a warm fragrance, rather than a cooler rose scent." Now I am not able to describe a perfume in this way, but blogger Londonmakeupgirl is. So I 'borrowed' it from her.

For ages I had been planning to visit Ormonde Jayne, a London perfume house. They have a little shop just off Bond Street. When I walked in, the shop girl was helping a middle aged couple find the right scents for them. They were lovely, 'normal' people, as opposed to the many rich folk you find in Bond Street. It seemed their son had given them a voucher each, such a lovely gift. Ormonde Jayne is a tiny shop. They have a handful of fragrances, and that's it. After watching her help the couple, I was quite keen to stick my nose in some of the bottles. When it was my turn, I described what I did and didn't like. Five minutes later, I walked out of the shop with Ta'if on my left wrist, and Sampaquita on my right. Twenty minutes later, when the scent had settled, I returned to buy Ta'if. What a lovely scent it is. And what a nice 'London' thing to have.

Amsterdam-London weekend

2010-08-30T20:01:00.005+01:00

In two days in the Dam I got soaked twice and got the umbrella out a gazillion times. It usually rained for about three minutes at the time when I was out witht he brolly, and of course it wouldn't stop when I left the brolly at Mary's. Ah well. I went for friends and babies and friends and babies I saw. Plus I stocked up on drop, sultana biscuits and volkorenbrood. Gutted I forgot the walnut boterkoek. Then again, as the plane that was meant to take us to the Dam broke down on its way to London, I was lucky to even get there. Thank you VLM/KLM for sorting out a spare plane and crew within two hours!

And thank god for the bank holiday in Old Blighty today. It was sunny and warmish and lovely. Friend Ilse and I decided to go west and explore Richmond and Twickenham. I had been to the park and the rugby ground but that was about it. We spent five hours outside. Walked along the fields, ate blackberries, we even took a wee ferry across the river. Lunch was BBQed food at a pub by the river in Twickenham and we finished the day with a cuppa and a cannoli. I took one pic that I am too lazy to upload now but trust me, it was fabulous. And worth the 20 stops on the District Line as the fecking Jubilee line was out of service again.

My friend

2010-08-19T19:07:00.006+01:00

Ready to party!
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

She is larger than life. A total party professional. Drinks champagne like it's going out of fashion but luckily has so many braincells she can afford to lose a few. She inspires me to live life to the max. To drink champagne on other days than NYE. Damn, it even got to a point when her love of latino men rubbed off on me. When she's heart broken, I feel her pain, and vice versa.

Who'd have thought, when we met back in '06 or so, in Cafe Hans en Grietje, that we would hit it off like this. For three months only we lived in the same country. But those three months were the beginning of a special friendship. Despite living about 10,000 miles apart, we manage to see each other once a year on average. And 2010 is a good year. A week in Melbs, a week in Tassie, and now four days in London.

The photo was taken on Queensday 2007. On our way to the boat I hired, we bought two champagne glasses at the vrijmarkt. Hers survived the move down under, mine the one to London. A tangible reminder of the good times we shared in the Dam.

My liver is lined up, the Veuve is in the fridge, the nice restaurants are booked. Bring on miss Brimson!

A different type of city trip

2010-08-16T13:16:00.008+01:00

Dalkey
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

What we expected was a gloomy, grey, weekend in Dublin. Bit of rain, plenty of pubs. Good for chilling, chatting and making the most of our stay in the beautiful Clarence Hotel. No sun is required for catching up with old friend Paul on Friday night and eating nice french food at Frere Jacques on Saturday night - things we had planned to do.

How different reality was! It was sunny, warm and there were few clouds to be seen. So we only stayed in the city on Friday and explored the 'suburbs' (a bit of an insult for the beautiful towns on the outskirts of Dublin) on Saturday and Sunday. Malahide and Dalkey are affluent coastal towns with lovely cafes, nice little shops and beautiful coastline. We walked down to Portmarnock, watching the sailors, snorklers, swimmers and sunbathers (they clearly only do stuff that starts with an S in this part of the world). We walked along the beach, through a park and in the forest. Saw castles and castle shops. Had lunch in the sun by the Malahide marina, polishing off a nice bottle of white (only to get rid fo the hangover from mixing cocktails, japanese beer and good old Guiness the night before). Smelled the smell of fish when we strolled around the boat rental places. Admired the runners in Dalkey (seriously....heaps of them on Sunday morning!).

A great weekend altogether. And a confirmation I have so not lost my thing for the north Dublin accent! Or Irish men.

Oh, and a new thing I have learned: people in Dublin wear a lot of green. Seriously. Not just the tourists. I always assumed it was called the emerald isle because of its green countryside. But it must be because of the dress sense of the Dubliners.

Culture vulture and amateur chef

2010-08-02T20:26:00.005+01:00

Two things keep me busy at the moment. Post having to balance football, Wimbledon, cricket and more, two things is manageable. They are the red pluche and food.

A big wish came through last weekend: with friends Ilse and Heather I went to see the Bolshoi ballet. Ilse is now spoiled forever as this was her first ballet, Heather used to be a pro dancer herself and saw it in that light. I just love ballet and was stunned by how good this company is. Unbelievable.

Two days later, Ilse, her parents and I joined the Arab contingent in Kensington. While we ate our pre-theatre dinner at a local Italian, we were entertained by two fat blokes with a fat car, boot open, who were handed bags full of designer clothes by the ladies they accompanied. Not once or twice, but four or five times. Business as usual in the rich parts of London in August, when many Arabs come here to shop, sometimes bringing their own cars from Dubai and the likes. It's a phenomenon that makes for great people watching. Anyway...the whole reason we were there was the Royal Albert Hall, as we had tickets for the Prom. I knew 3 of the 4 composers that were played that night. It's probably a good thing I didn't know the 4th as his piece was just awful! Nothing a three year old with the right tools couldn't do, we all thought. Weird avant garde noise. It was the premiere of that piece, the composer was there and half the crowd absolutely loved it. Rave reviews in the papers the next day too. Ah well.... Let's just say it wasn't for me. A half empty RAH on a Monday night by the way, turned out to be great for prommers who like to listen to their music horizontally. Several people were lying in the proms area as there was so much floor space. A funny view, from our balcony.

Coming up next on the culture front are Sondheim's Into the Woods, Shakespeare's As you Like it and Noel Coward's Design for Living. Plus I got tickets for Classical Spectacular. Slightly tacky but they do some beautiful pieces and play very English songs at the end.

Then food. Since I moved here, having access to proper supermarkets, I have completely rediscovered my love for cooking. At home I usually can't be bothered thinking ahead on a Saturday, and my local Albert Heijn is just that....an Albert Heijn. An inflated 7-11. Here, the abundance of great products make I enjoy preparing my own food more than ever. Throw in a website I discovered last year by a girl who does fashion and food equally well, and I eat like a king. The past two weeks I have made fantastic mozzarella and halloumi based salads, grilled organic chicken with lemon time and other stuff, squid salad, nice pastas, thai style tofu and what have you. At work, I am already thinking about that night's meal and popping down to Waitrose on the way home, I know another nice meal is on the cards that day. Life is good.

A weekend in the Dam

2010-07-25T13:39:00.003+01:00

Overgrown bike
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Now that I have signed the final extension to my expat contract, I am starting to get used to the idea that this is my last year in the big smoke. 1 July 2011, I am expected back in the Amsterdam office. And with this in mind, my weekend in Amsterdam couldn't have been better. I went straight from Schiphol to Toomler on Thursday night to meet my friends Vicky and Craig and a bunch of their friends, most of whom I knew. Two brill comedians and a good night out. The Amsterdam office on Friday, where I managed to catch up with loads of people who all made me feel so welcome to be back. A barbecue on V&C's rooftop was the perfect end to a very good day. Saturday morning was rediscovering De Pijp with Vic. New coffee places, new sushi bars, new clothes shops. Visiting a friend to meet her one day old bub. Bitterballen and wit bier, a pedi, and dinner with loads of friends in de Jordaan. Sunday was for my oldest friends. And their kids. Another barbie, more wine, and chatting away in the sun.

When I flew back home on Sunday night I couldn't believe how much fun I'd manage to pack into three days. It gave me that happy, relaxed feeling you normally get from a week's hols. No matter how sad I will be to leave London, it makes a difference to know I will be moving back to somewhere good.

An orange disillusion? Or not quite?

2010-07-13T20:44:00.007+01:00

Hoping for the best
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

When we won the semis a week ago, I convinced my friend to host a barbie at hers for the Sunday night. She thought it was a great plan and, slightly intoxicated, we invited a bunch of friends. When I got home, Twitter and you tube convinced me I had to go to the Dam. By the time I had tracked down my boss the next morning and asked for a day off, ticket prices were sky high but I no longer cared. I had to go. Sorry friend. Bye bye BBQ.

Minor glitch in the trip was having Edgar Davids, whom I cannot stand, sitting in front of me on the plane, but hee hoo (had it been Clarence Seedorf, I'd have been over the moon). A lot of orange on the plane, a lot of orange at the airport. The train from Schiphol to the Dam was packed and orange and the experience brought tears to my eyes (I am a total sucker for sports madness and a bigger cry baby than Cristiano Ronaldo when it comes to sports). I knew I had made the right decision.

Half a day later, friend Mary and I enjoyed a quiet beer in Tapmarin. The same pub where I have watched big matches, with the same people, since '98. The clock on tele was counting down and the excitement grew. By the time the match kicked off, the pub was packed, and the nerves were almost unbearable. And then, nothing. No goals. No win. (No lack of cards.)

Gutted. Truth hit home when I was back at Schiphol, waiting to board, reading the Dutch papers. We lost. Big time. And not in the classiest way too. Godverdomme.

Today was a day of mixed emotions. I got loads of abuse at work, to the extent that the CFO did a karate kick and handed out a yellow card in a meeting. All playful banter, and I would have done the same. But man....painfull. Thank god tho for Dutch public television. When watching the playes interviews during the canal parade and the madness on Museumplein tonight, I realised what great guys they are. And despite some thuggery, they are a team to be proud of. A second place. That's 30 teams that did worse. As opposed to '74 and '78 when only 16 countries participated. What an achievement. I feel proud. Of the team, of the country, of the way the Dutch can be one. If only we could show the same spirit in daily life.

Wimbledon

2010-07-05T17:58:00.010+01:00

Two years ago, I had only been in London for a few days when I went to Wimbledon. Women's final from Murray Mound. I couldn't believe how British it all was. Yesterday I went again. And after two years here, I still found it incredibly British. And lovely. The picknick areas, the black cab that drove me from the station to the ground (for £ 2.50!), the queuing sytem, the people with centre court tickets dressing up, it was all the same and all so different from say the Rotterdam tournament. No need to get myself a copy of the queing guide this year though, as a mate who works in the changing rooms got me a ground pass (and drinks for that matter). It was sunny, we had champagne and strawberries and I was ready for a smashing final.

A smashing final it wasn't. The most excitement from the crowd could be heard whenever Rafa changed his shirt (nowhere near often enough, I may add). Quicker than a priest could strip a school boy, most of Murray Mound cleared after the last ball. But it is as much about the experience as it is about the tennis. And the experience was wonderful once more. One minus of the whole day: I should have hung around, judging from my mate's Facebrag a few hours after I left: "Having a Haagen Dazs with Rafa". Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Summer in London

2010-07-02T08:46:00.003+01:00

Tower Bridge
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Summer in London can be Wimbledon, cricket, parks. But it's also walking along the Thames after work, passing BBQs that resto's set up, Italian al fresco dinner by the water. And on the way back, loads of locals and tourists hanging out by the river as if it were a boulevard.

That was last night for me. And when walking to the tube station, Tower Bridge just opened, the light was just beautiful and I embraced London once again.

Happiness is...

2010-06-26T14:11:00.003+01:00

...visiting friends in Barcelona
...watching Ned-Esp by yourself in a Spanish cafe
...watching Ned-Cam with a friend in a London pub
...summer in London
...hearing your name on way home from pub
...staying for that one too many pint
...being busy at work and building relationships
...the football craze
...facebook chats between four dear friends in three different countries
...rocket, mozzarella and blushed tomatoes
...wine and cheese

And when all these things come together in a week and a bit, life is just ever so good.

A culinary day trip

2010-06-13T15:31:00.003+01:00

Lunch by the river
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

From a weather perspective, our timing for a Cambridge trip was fab. From a sightseeing perspective however, it was pretty poor as a lot of the colleges were closed for finals. That didn't stop my friend Ilse and I to have a great day out though.

Basically our day was: coffee at a lovely little place opposite Trinity College, a two course lunch washed down with a bottle of Verdelho by the river, punting on said river, icecream, walking, reading the papers in a courtyard by the river, enjoying a few cold drinks, and a two course dinner with a glass of wine. So one might argue we have seen more of Cambridge hospitality staff than we have of its students. Very true. And it was brill.

Sas the scarecrow

2010-06-01T21:21:00.003+01:00

If I am not going anywhere after the gym, I tend to walk home in my gym clothes and a cardi, thongs on my feet. My shower at home is much more comfy then the gym ones and I like the cool down a walk gives me. Today, I'd forgotten my cardi. And my thongs. So I ended up walking home looking like a scarecrow. Although on first glance, one might have thought I was wearing fancy shorts with a jacket, a closer look would have told a bypasser I was wearing running shorts with my high heeled cloggs and my linen jacket. Match that with a red face from the exercise, and a wet-cat-look from the rain that was coming down and I am sure I looked awfully attractive. I surely got quite a few stares. Thank god I didn't bump into any colleagues or clients. Although the moral victory would have been mine, as at least I had been to the gym!

My Tour Des Pays Bas

2010-05-31T21:08:00.003+01:00

Beautiful east of NL
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

As I was spending fewer than 48 hours in the country, I decided to make the absolute most of my trip home this weekend. And I was quite impressed especially by how much one can fit into a single Saturday. By public transport mostly.

From the Amsterdam Transvaalbuurt, I went to Utrecht. Ran a few errands, got Martin Bril's Rokjesdag (he was a famous Dutch columnist who was intrigued by the phenomenon of the first day every year that so many women start wearing skirts - rokjes), ate a very Dutch sandwich and took a train to Apeldoorn. And then Voorst-Empe. Voorst-Empe is on the coolest trainline ever. A one track boemeltje between Apeldoorn and Zutphen. Cute as. Met the parents, drove to my nan who lives there, and had lunch. That was three provinces already. I took the boemeltje to Zutphen, where I changed trains to Arnhem. It's a good thing living in London changes your perception of distance. As long as I have a book on my, I find it totally normal these days to travel for almost an hour to go for dinner or meet a friend. Anyway. Arnhem. I had 1,5 hours spare before meeting a friend and driving to Den Haag with her. It was sunny and I was thirsty (day two of a three day mild hangover), so a drink and walk in Park Sonsbeek seemed the appropriate thing to do. Then Den Haag. Dinner with old work friends, in a lovely French-Asian restaurant in the Prinsenstraat. Fantastic food and a very decent sancerre. Quite late, I left province number five to head back to Amsterdam. Happy and tired.

London Fields

2010-05-25T21:21:00.003+01:00

London lady
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Just off London Fields is a small photo studio. I can't remember how I found out about it, but when I read about a one day camera workshop, I signed up. Friend Ilse decided to tag along, and so we found ourselves in Hackney on Saturday morning. It was an interesting mixture of people and experience. The course was good and structured, and provided me with quite a few tips and tricks

London Fields (that was partly cordoned off halfway through the day as a guy had been shot, and air ambulanced away) and Broadway Market are amongst the best places in London for people watching. I am not a great people photographer, so stuck to other themes. When the girl in the pic wasn't looking tho, I managed a quick shot. She's very Hackney, and I love the contrast with the older lady in the background. Need to go back on a shooting-free day to spend some more photo-time in London Fields.

Sunny days, but not for all

2010-05-21T13:12:00.009+01:00

Canada Square is the home of HSBC, of Citibank, of several restaurants, a gym, a supermarket. It's buzzing during the week. And it does not buzz more than on a sunny Friday during lunch hour. Office staff read a book on the grass, eat their lunch at one of the tables scattered around the square, or sit on one of the benches, chatting away. Nothing says Friday more than office workers relaxing. It's the sign the weekend isn't far. And where better to relax than in the sun? So I bought some sushi and joined the crowd. So far so good. Happy feelings.

A stones throw away, a plaque is covered by flowers. When I walk up to see what it says, I notice the other people around it are crying, and comforting each other, and are not nosy office workers like myself. I quickly walk away, and look up the date on the net. Ten years ago today, when the HSBC building on 8 Canada Square was being constructed, a crane collapsed, killing three construction workers. The people I saw must have been relatives. Mourning the loss of their loved ones, by a stupid accident while the three men were at work. Their 21st of Mays will never be sunny again.

Glee

2010-05-15T10:55:00.003+01:00

My Holland based friends may not have heard of it, but they will soon. In the US and the UK, you'd have had to lived under a rock not to have heard of Glee. It's not so much about the plot, which I find pretty boring. But the cast is brilliant. The remake of all sorts of songs from Madonna to Ice Baby make you smile or jump up and dance. The characters can be pretty interesting, with Sue Sylvester, the cheerleader coach, a top trending topic on Twitter on Glee days. It's revenge of the geeks and high school it-girls. Cliches all over the place, and they work. Try it, if you haven't done so already. It took me 2 or 3 episodes to get the hang of it, but I love it now.

Chili con carne

2010-05-09T18:25:00.006+01:00

As it's pretty much November weatherwise, I decided to make a big bowl of chili con carne today. And it was the best I've ever had. Thanks to Jamie Oliver (basic recipe), mate JC (addition of chocolate) and myself (some changes to recipe). For six portions, here is what you need to do.

Chop two celery stalks, two bell peppers, two onions and two garlic cloves. Simmer in olive oil till soft. Add a tin of chick peas, a tin of kidney beans and two tins of tomatoes. Add 500 grams minced beef. Add a teaspoon of cinnamon, a teaspoon of cumin (I used garam masala instead as I'd run out of cumin) and a teaspoon of chili powder. Add some fresh chili and chili flakes as well if you like a bit of a bite. And finally add a little balsamic vinegar, some bay leaves, and a square of dark chocolate. Just let it simmer for an hour at least and serve with rice (I used wholegrain basmati) and some yoghurt, a wedge of lime and some coreander. Nom nom nom.

I will have some more tomorrow, as it's supposed to be even better the next day. The rest found its way to the freezer.

Elections

2010-05-05T21:59:00.006+01:00

Tomorrow is D-day. For Cam and Sam-Cam. For Gordon and Sarah. And ok, maybe a little for Clegg the Clogg and his Spanish missus. And I absolutely hate not being able to vote. I mean, I understand the rules and I understand why I can't vote. But I so have an opinion. I have immersed myself in the campaigns, the points of views. I have followed the debates on Twitter (sorry Gordo, Nick and Dave, European football wins when it comes to chosing the tv channel). It's been a hugely fascinating campaign. The weirdos at the BNP and UKIP who I have seen in tv-interviews (ok, maybe not too different from home with our blond bombshell...). The hype around the honorary Dutchman. The mud throwing between labour and tories. The short time span between official announcement and election dates, very different from the situation in the Netherlands. All the celebs who have spoken out their preferences (Michael Caine, shame on you). Tomorrow night I will be glued to the tele to watch the prelim results. And in a month and a bit I will get my chance. For the Dutch elections I have already sorted out my vote. For now, I will be a bystander in the country I call home.

Mozart

2010-05-03T16:39:00.005+01:00

Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

As last weekend was already my fourth trip to Vienna to see my friend Mari, neither of us felt the need to do touristy stuff. Mari was keen to see a concert in the Musikverein, and so was I. I like classical concerts and to listen to Mozart in one of the world's most wellknown music halls seemed great. How wrong we were.

For a shocking €54 I managed to do the most touristy thing in Vienna so far. And that includes visiting the Christmas markets. At first, I was quite impressed. A lot of people had dressed up beautifully. There were women in saris, a woman in a gorgeous kimono, and a lot of heels and pretty LBDs. There was a grandfatherly old man in a suit and hat. It all seemed very smart. The hall is amazing, people were snapping for ages before the orchestra entered.

And when they entered, that was when M and I exchanged an 'oh my god' look. The whole lot of them were dressed in pastel coloured Mozart outfits . White wigs and all. They then proceeded to play a 'best of' set of Mozart's work. Occasionally accompanied by an opera singer in dirndl dress and a male singer in traditional costume. The old man with the hat was happily tapping away with his walking stick, while we tried not to laugh too audibly. Just when we thought things couldn't get any worse, the mail singer walked on stage with a caged bird on his back.

The orchestra and the singers were fine but man.....the both of us will remember this concert for very different reasons.

The pic to the left is of crap quality but gives an idea of the orchestra.

London Marathon

2010-04-25T20:08:00.004+01:00

The London Marathon is one of the highlights on my London calendar. It is the most amazing event. A huge number of runners dress in beer bottles, ballet costumes (men mainly), pooh suits and god knows what. I have seen firemen run in full gear. As if 26 miles isn't enough, imagine the extra weight and discomfort of those suits. Stood by the 16 mile mark, I watched a lot of runners struggle immensely. Striking difference between those who were clearly enjoy it and those who are just in pain. I have no idea how much was collected for charities today, but it must have been a lot. In the picture (knicked from bbc.co.uk) you see Richard Branson, and his kids Sam and Holly. If you look well you see princess Beatrice too. They were running as an 34-or-so-person catterpillar, raising money for various charities. Big cheers from the crowd when they walked past. Just made me wonder if there is anything Mr Branson can not do when he sets his mind to it.....

Summer in a bottle

2010-04-25T09:35:00.006+01:00

Last year I missed out on Estee Lauder's summer only scent. By the time I needed a new body spray and realised how much I liked the fragrance, summer was over and it was off the shelves. When I walked into Fenwick yesterday, I bumped straight into the Estee Lauder counter. I smelled it, I bought it and today I am wearing it. It's summer in a bottle. Instant happy smell.

Oh, and the whole reason I was in Bond Street? To pick up a new Bayswater bag at the Mulberry store. For free. The bag I've had for about 1.5 years had some wear and tear that was very visible and couldn't be repaired. Warranty only lasts a year, so imagine my surprise when the store offered me a replacement bag or voucher for the original value of the bag! Customer service at its best. So happy as Larry I picked up my new bag that now sits on my couch being pretty. Just for the day though, as of tomorrow it will be my work bag, just like the previous one.

An unexpected weekend

2010-04-18T19:09:00.005+01:00

Rent-a-deckchair
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

What my weekend should have been was afternoon tea with the relo's (including my bro who was over from DC), dinner with old work mates, beers with uni friends, brunch with the girls and a lovely Indonesian dinner with other close friends.

But that was before the vulcano errupted. I was glued to the KLM and City Airport websites but nope... No flights. Gutted. But I was going to make the best of my weekend. And man, it filled up quickly.

A work friend came round for Italian on Friday night with a gift cause I'd had a tough week at work which I thought was incredibly sweet. She hadn't had the easiest of weeks herself so we hit the cocktails and wine pretty nicely. Which didn't seem as great an idea on Saturday arvo, when my gym had organised a zumbathon. Three back to back classes. Hugely tiring but oh my god, it was so much fun. Straight from the gym to Putney Heath, to spend the rest of the arvo in The Green Man's beer garden for a mate's birthday. Pimms and lemonade and ham, egg and chips. If I can't have Dutch beer and food, I might as well go as english as possible.

And today was a me-day. The sun was out, the legs were sore. Off to Regent's Park. I am ashamed to admit that in the almost two years I've been here I had not once visited Regen'ts Park. How bloody stupid. The next friend who's visiting will be dragged there straight away. All the herons, ducks, other watery birdy thingies, tulips, magnolia's, how gorgeous. Everyone seemed happy and smiley, and it was just the most pleasant place to be.

The weekend may have been very different from what I planned, but it was one of the best this year.

Fun OD

2010-04-15T08:30:00.003+01:00

When a weekend was so good as last, you want to make the memory last forever. Last weekend my old friend Sandra came to see me, and we just had the loveliest, most relaxing time. Nice dinners, snugged up on the couch reading, a long walk in Greenwich Park, dim sum lunch. And Enron.

The play / musical, a bit of both really. Somehow we got upgraded from limited view balcony seats to the front row. A good start. And it was incredibly well done. The decor was spot on. The cast was so good I thought I could just have a chat with the lead actor about mark to market and other finance stuff. I just completely forgot they were actors. My friend works in the sports industry and knows nothing about Enron, accounting standards and the role of the auditor, but she was equally enthousiastic about the play. Which is a big thumbs up to the writers.

Easter weekend

2010-04-04T14:31:00.002+01:00

Spring
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

With friends everywhere between Somerset and New Zealand but not in London, my easter weekend is pretty quiet. Which is just what the doctor ordered, in between all these visits by friends and being away myself. One of my favourite me-time activities is going to Greenwich. Walk along the Thames, eat a crepe with lemon and sugar, see the museums and chill in the park. Even a grey day like yesterday couldn't stop me from enjoying myself. The daffodils a reminder that it is definitely spring, despite the weather gods having forgotten this.

Fishy Friday

2010-04-02T17:23:00.004+01:00

A recently rediscovered old Jamie Oliver recipe. Made it last week for my friend, and will cook it again tonight. Halibut works perfectly, haven't tried any of the other fish. All it needs is a nice glass of white (in my case, d'Arenberg's Hermit Crab Viognier), a salad and a piece of nice crispy bread (Wholefood, I worship thee). The only thing missing is a limoncello to have afterwards.

1 handful of fresh rosemary, leaves picked
extra virgin olive oil
4 x 200g brill, turbot, halibut or blue eye tranches/steaks
sea salt & freshly ground black pepper
2 large unwaxed lemons, finely sliced
1 large handful of salted capers, soaked
8 good anchovy fillers
a splash of white wine or prosecco

Preheat the oven to 200c. Bruise your rosemary in a pestle & mortar to bring out the flavour. Add 6 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil & scrunch together. Pat half of this flavoured oil round the fish, season well & put into an earthenware dish or roasting pan. Lay 4 or 5 thin slices of lemon over each steak, sprinkle over your capers & drape over the anchovies. Drizzle with remaining flavoured oil & bake for around 15 minutes off the bone or 25 minutes on the bone. Now you could splash the wine in if you like. Remove from the oven & allow to rest, like a steak for 5 minutes.

Invictus

2010-04-02T09:08:00.007+01:00

It tells the beautiful story of the special bond between Nelson Mandela and Francois Pienaar, captain of the Bokke at the time of Mandela's presidency. Pienaar grew up in a traditional white Afrikaner family. His team mates are all white, except for Chester Williams. Most of his team mates refused to sing nkosi sikelel' iafrika when preparing for the World Cup. Slowly but steadily, the team (and the country) realise they are part of a rainbow nation. And whether is was Mandela giving them strength or something else, Pienaar leads his team to a victory in the 1995 World Cup, beating the All Blacks in the final (with a cameo by Jonah Lomu). I easily cry when it comes to sport, but this flick touched me at many times. And it brought me back to Pretoria, 1997.

The still predominantly white team had been losing match after match. That didn't stop myself and thirteen fellow students to get tickets for the Tri Nations match agains 'Straya in the stadium in Pretoria. A beautiful afternoon in August. A slightly strange afternoon activity after a morning visit to Soweto, but so be it. South Africa had to beat Australia by 31 points or so. Not very likely considering their last matches. But they won 61-22. It wasn't the result however that impressed us so much. Fourteen Dutch students in rugby stadion will sing football songs. No way around it. And who cares? Well. Some people did. The Boers from Orange Free State behind us did, to be precise. In Afrikaans they asked us if it were football songs we were singing. Followed by comments that football was for kaffers, their president was a criminal, and what have you. We were shocked rather than angry. These men probably didn't know any better, having been indoctrinated all their lives. In front of us, some of the players' parents were sat. English speaking, friendly, courteous. They seemed to enjoy our enthousiasm and provided an endless supply of tangerines, beer and biltong. A good balance with the racists behind us.

I spent three months in South Africa in '97. But that afternoon, in that stadium, summed it all up for me. And it was the beginning of a strong love for a hooligan's game played by gentlemen.

Yeah! Theatre!

2010-03-24T09:58:00.007Z

Ah, the joy of having theater nights to look forward to.

On Saturday, Dutch friend Nynke and I will see Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. I saw it before and absolutely loved it. Bought better seats than the £10-you-can-see-most-of-the-stage-if-you-tilt-your-head tickets that I had last time.

And in April, another friend is visiting, and Sandra and I will see what Enron is all about. It had rave reviews so am very much looking forward to seeing it!

Both shows are afternoon shows so we can indulge in some of the fab food London has to offer in the evening. In this case Hakkasan and Harwood Arms. The former is one of my fav restaurants in London, awfully stylish and amazing food. The latter is a gastropub that was awarded a Michelin star this year. It still has pubquiz nights on Tuesdays and the most expensive main is less than 20 quid. How good is that?!

Zumbatastic

2010-03-20T11:28:00.006Z

One of the highlights of my week is the 5.45pm Zumba class on Friday. The dancing makes me happy as a pig in mud and it signals the official start of the weekend. It's 45 minutes of dancing to latin music, some Bollywood, the ketchup song occasionally, Love Potion Number 9 rather frequently and much more.

My gym only started doing the classes recently. And over the past weeks I have seen the class grow from 20odd women to a record 45 or so yesterday. There were also three men, who I am pretty sure were there only for some oggling. Poor Indian dude may have had more sincere intentions but the guy couldn't dance to save his life. He just stood there staring at his feet trying to make sense of it all. Anyway. The reason for this increase in zumba-ets is not only due to the fun factor of this class I believe.

It must have something to do with Doni. Venezualan Doni. Professional salsa dancer. And sex on legs. That is, when he's dancing. I once saw him while grabbing a coffee and he looked awfully ordinary. But while dancing. Fock. I bet all 45-odd women were secretly hoping to be dancing in those strong muscly yet lean arms. Nothing is sexier than a man who can dance. Who does the manly stuff really manly and has the softness that goes with the more feminine movements.

Now the sexier I find instructors, the more I cover myself. So my Zumba class attire consists of long black running pants and a dark blue University of Stellenbosch poloshirt that I have had since 1997. Clearly not all the attendees think this way. The number of bare midriffs increases by the week. And the more flesh, the worse the moves generally are. These girls make me laugh. They stand in the front, don't seem to know their arses from their elbows and hang around after class to ask some undoubtedly very intelligent questions. Me? I simply hope my red face and not-so-latin hips have gone unnoticed and just massively enjoy myself.

Dutschj

2010-03-13T14:53:00.006Z

My boss is a bit of a muppet. In the nicest possible way. A good guy who likes his cricket and football and once admitted feeling a bit uncomfortable a Dutch, and a female Dutch at that, was so into cricket. I thought that was kinda cute. Recently, he has started copying a colleague, who has schpoken to me like disch sinsch I joined the firm. Assuming that is how the Dutch generally pronounce their english. Boss takes the effort to put it into writing though, especially when the Dutch guard is doing the London-Reading shift on his train home. Below the email he sent me last nite.

"Itsch Friday scho itsch de Dutch guard on de train to Reading. He hasch jusch announsched that I can't usche my perschonal schteeeeerio in the quiet car.

Schoot - I wasch hoping to lischten to schome tunesch

Have a good weekend - can we speak Mon re this survey thing?

Doidoi.......however you spell it!"

It had me in stitches. The doidoi is the result of me once ending a phone call with my Dutch boss with the words 'doeidoei'. English boss has been using it every time he sees me since. Men truly are just big kids!

Cooking spree

2010-03-08T17:28:00.008Z

Now that my workdays are short, I spend more time preparing my food. It's not so much the cooking that I don't want to make time for but I just hate doing grocery shopping straight from work, laptop over shoulder, etcetera. So it's usually M&S salads and soups, or sushi on my way home from the gym. But these days... I have a fridge full of mozzarella, feta, goat's cheese and halloumi. Frozen peas, alfalfa, avocado, red onions, mushrooms, mint, parsley. The yummiest things end up on my plate. Was it Leon's superfood salad yesterday (from the cookbook my parents got me for my birthday), tonight it's a recipe from my favourite fashion blogger. Oh, the joys of having time to shop and prepare delicious meals!

Oh, and my house smells of hyacinths. Lovely fact. And the London Starsucks are now also selling the instant coffee that hit the US last year. Stupid fact.

Laughs and more laughs. And Matthew oggling.

2010-03-07T11:37:00.004Z

When I read Private Lives was premiering in the West End in March, I asked my workvriend Viv, sitting opposite me, if she wanted to come along, and bought tickets straight away. That was back in November. Months flew by and all of a sudden we found ourselves in the Vaudeville Theatre yesterday, three days after opening night. Private Lives was written by Noel Coward some 80 years ago, but its themes are timeless. Kim Cattrall and Matthew Macfadyen were brilliant, the jokes were endless, and we had a fantastic night taking it all in, feeling enormously alive. A brilliant Saturday night.

Fetish

2010-03-05T20:25:00.004Z

I'm afraid I took my bag fetish to a new level today. After four or so months of drooling over the Mulberry Alexa, my wallet was safe as I am not the type who's organised enough to get herself on a waiting list. For a bag. I'm a bag fetishist, not a bag victim. However, today, on my way to the gym, I remembered my local Waitrose has a Mulberry section in the non-food department. And there it was. In oak and butter. Waiting for me. First things first though, and throughout my zumba class, I could only think of That Bag. So as soon as the class was finished, I wet my face, sprayed some deodorant, and headed to the counter in gym clothes and uggs, asking to see The Bag. And it was as soft and beautiful as I thought it would be. The Bag is now mine.

Stupid stupid weather

2010-02-28T13:15:00.005Z

It looked so promising yesterday. Blue sky. Sun. On my walk along the Thames I saw these crocuses. I didn't need to wear my wintercoat. And to add to my happy springy state, Ireland won the ruggers and Bridge didn't shake Terry's hand which looked damn funny. Then today. It was pissing down on my way to the gym. Still raining on my way back. I am sneezing again. And yesterday's good mood is pretty much gone.

Please please please weather gods, stop messing about. You've had your fun. Now give us spring.

Disappointed is an understatement

2010-02-24T21:15:00.009Z

A new national trauma. WC '74, Hilbert van der Duim's missed lap on the 5k, Seedorf's penalty. And now Sven Kramer's 10k in Vancouver. Disqualified because of an error of his coach.

I watched it online, while chatting away on Twitter. And then it happened. Coach Gerard Kemkers told Sven to take the inner rather than the outer lane. Bye bye Olympic Gold. Bye bye Olympic Record. Hello amazing sportsman. Sven's interview for Dutch TV was impressive. So composed, so mature. I so felt for him. And almost even more for Kemkers, the best coach we've ever had. A beautiful person, judging from what I've seen from him in the past twenty or so years. By 3.24am I was still wide awake. Almost feeling their devastation. Thinking of Sven. Thinking of Gerard. And thinking of the amazing things these two have done. I hope they (and the rest of the team) can do more amazing things in the team pursuit on Friday.
Picture nicked off Wereldomroep.nl

Barca

2010-02-22T12:44:00.005Z

Fish monger at Mercat de la Boqueria
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Mercat de la Boqueria, just off La Ramblas. The only activity of the weekend. My cold was so bad I couldn't really move too much. Thank god my appetite hadn't gone though. We had some of this lovely seafood and some more for dinner on Saturday. Lunch was pinxtos in El Born, in the basque cultural centre / restaurant. And we managed to squeeze in two more resto visits to eat some local food.

Luckily my friends weren't too energetic either for various reasons, so we kinda snugged up on the couch, covered by blankets, all weekend, catching up on all things and reading. Cosy. The rest of Barca can wait till my next visit. June ticket has been booked!

Barcelona!!

2010-02-19T09:00:00.002Z

32 Tibidabo
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Almost four year after my first visit, I am about to head back to Barcelona. And as a visitor-of-friends rather than a full blown tourist this time. A weekend full of chatter and banter with Martin and Elena, beautiful Catalan food, an expat soiree and whatever else might happen. Twelve hours and counting!

Skin OD

2010-02-17T15:10:00.008Z

After my last project, I got the feedback that I was very lifestyly (yes, I know that is not a word) and too much of a fashionista (the latter says everything about the person who said it and very little about me). Fair enough. Had said person told me while I was still on the project, I would have worn a suit a bit more. As it were, I was wearing 3/4 black trousers and red patent heels on a regular basis.

What I wasn't wearing, were short skirts and low cut tops. Each to their own, but I don't think it's particularly suitable in an office environment. Clearly, many of the female staff of a London company I visited this week, think differently. Half of them could have gone clubbing straight from work. F*ck me heels, cleavage, short dresses, the works. Only the sparkles were missing. It does make me wonder....if I get hugely distracted by staring into someone's cleavage during a meeting, how must the men that were present have felt? Surely 3/4 black trousers and red patent heels would have been less distractive?

Spring?

2010-02-17T14:26:00.001Z

Yellow on purple
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Can I please declare spring to be opened? Offical yabba aside about some date in March? I have seen crocuses and daffodils, it is sunny and apparently there are little lambs already. Surely that must mean spring. I would like to interpret yesterday's miserable rain as the turning point of informal seasons. Goodbye you bastard crap cold snowy winter, hello spring, we love you.

Outed

2010-02-16T20:08:00.005Z

First there was Petite Anglaise. The pommie in Paris who was anonymous until her employer found out about her blog in '06 and the following law suit was all over the papers and even on CNN. A book deal followed, and last year she stopped blogging.

My new favourite blog was Liberty London Girl. A pommie in New York's fashion world writes with the self deprecation the Brits do so well about her love life (or lack thereof), about food, and mostly, about fashion. The people, the shows, that skirt, those trousers. I knew her bra size from one of the hilarious posts but had no idea what her eye colour was. And I kinda liked it that way. Today however, she outed herself in Grazia. I tore open the plastic wrapper and went straight to the page of the interview. A pretty friendly face. Belonging to a girl who talks about writing a sitcom and turning her blog into a book. Now she is known to the world, the blog won't be the same.

So I need a new one. A blog that makes me laugh, makes me want to go places, to cook food, and most of all, makes me want to get to know the writer through her blog. Or maybe Sasha Wilkins can prove me wrong, and entertain the world with her stories for a long time to come!

Sports sports sports

2010-02-13T20:39:00.007Z

After yet another week of cardio, pilates, aerobics and more cardio, I am pretty pleased to see a decrease in centimeters and a more toned body. The hard work is paying off. And the great feeling after a hard work out is so worth the effort.

The Irish' rugby team's hard work didn't pay off quite as much today. They lost miserably from the frogs. After a hugely exciting Wales-Scotland match, Les Verts broke their winning spell. Unlucky 13, after having won 12 matches in a row.

Now I am counting on Sven Kramer to make my day from a sports perspective. If only he can skate towards gold tonight.... While I am listening to Jochem Uytdehaage on the radio, I go back to the Salt Lake Olympics in 2002. While Jochem was skating his 10k, I was driving home from a farewell party of a colleague. I broke my own speed record on the A10, cheering and shouting whilst driving, hoping to catch the last laps. Just when I reached my exit, Jochem won gold. Tears of happiness running down my cheeks. Today I am lucky to have the combination of BBC internet and Dutch Radio 1. Go Sven Go! Make our day!

Bowler Hat Day

2010-02-10T21:18:00.005Z

Jeans day for the aids foundation, pink day for the breast cancer foundation, and Bowler Hat Day for Haiti. The English and their charities. Not only doesn't anyone seem to walk a longer distance than tube-home without raising money for a charity, offices do their part too. So for jeans day our head honcho sent round an email suggesting we could wear jeans to the office, if we paid £2 for charity. On pink day you had to pay £3 (partners £10) unless you were wearing something pink. And tomorrow there will be peeps selling bowler hats and bowler hat pins at London Bridge and Leadenhall Market, encouraging office workers to re-live the old days, whilst raising money for SOS Children's World Haiti.

Weekend

2010-02-05T19:57:00.003Z

Mary is here, the Six Nations are starting and I am about to cook a lovely meal with fresh fish and veg from Borough Market. What more could a girl want?

Dinner with Mugabe

2010-02-02T21:34:00.007Z

I finally finished the book on Mugabe I was reading. Dinner with Mugabe, by journo Heidi Holland (who jokes her next book will be Out to Lunch with Ahmadinejad). It's a fascinating insight in the transition from freedom fighter to tiran. It doesn't make excuses for what he has become but it tries to understand and explain. At the end of the book, the writer finally manages to interview Mugabe himself. She asks him how he would like to be remembered. His response?
"Just as the son of a peasant family who, alongside others, felt he had a responsibility to fight for his country. And did so to the best of his ability. And was grateful for the honour given him to lead a country and be remembered as one who was most grateful for the honour that the people gave him in leading them to victoria over British emperialism. Yes, for that I want to be remembered."

The man is a total and utter nutcase. But it makes for fascinating reading about the country I so loved when I visited it in 1997.

Snowy Amsterdam

2010-02-02T17:18:00.001Z

Prinsengracht in the morning
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

It was effing freezing, it was snowing and it was so slippery I fell three times and still have the bruises to prove it. But it was also dinners with old and current colleagues, lunch with girlfriends, drinks with old friends and sing alongs in Cafe De Twee Zwaantjes. Happy days in the Dam.

Holiday

2010-01-26T10:09:00.006Z

It's been a whole ten days since I've come back from Oz so it's about bloody time I start planning the next holiday. I think it might just be Malaysia. Few days in KL, week or so in Langkawi. Sightseeing in the city. Week on the beach with a load of books. Now just plan a period, wait for the airlines to release next season's tickets in February and book! In the meantime, Barca and Vienna are on the cards, and I might sneak in a weekend in Bologna too to get my Italy fix.

One of those Mondays

2010-01-25T09:08:00.009Z

A quiet weekend, and still I woke up feeling not so great. Not ill. Just not so great. I must be coming down with a cold not-so-great. Not ready to go to work not-so-great. And on Mondays with no meetings in my calendar, the solution is easy. So I dropped my bosses a note that I'd be working from home today fighting off a cold.

WFH Mondays are great. I can look like a slob all day in my dressing gown or track suit. Hair is a mess, no make up. Cups of builders tea. Nice lattes. Loads of time for brekkie so I have yogurt with fresh mango, apple and blueberries. I watch the BBC breakfast news, which is not so newsy at all as they have all sorts of actors dropping by promoting their plays and films, while answering emails. I will spend the rest of the day ticking all the things off my to do list and be hugely productive, until it is almost six o'clock, by which I race to the gym for my pilates class assuming I feel all right.

Come Tuesday morning, I will be all relaxed, all prepared, and hopefully cold-free. And ready to face the world, the colleagues, and the office.

Fragonard Soleil

2010-01-17T08:27:00.007Z

You'd think three different perfumes should be enough to cover all moods and occasions. Then again, you'd think one or two handbags would be sufficient and most women know that is nonsense. However, when a (male) mate commented I could always sell some of my handbags should I lose my job, I decided enough is enough (this was before the Mulberry Alexa came out I must admit). Still, the joy of a nice handbag or nice perfume is a great one. So when I came across a little French shop in Hobart, with beautiful perfume bottles, I was drawn in. Sensible enough not to buy a large bottle when on holiday and in a different mood, I fell for this tiny bottle of Soleil of Fragonard. And now I regret it of course. I loooove the bottle and love the fragrance. I feel prettier and sunnier and girlier when I wear it and imagine people's heads turn to see who's wearing that lovely jasmine scent. This 7ml of heaven in a bottle I will make last as long as possible. To feel good, and to remember that special holiday at the start of the decade-with-no-name (unless that name got sorted in my absence and I completely missed it.

Next stop: Scotland Island

2010-01-17T07:04:00.007Z

Same kookaburra?
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Scotland Island: 670-odd inhabitants of the human kind, gazillions of the mossie kind and a whole heap of birds, possums and other 'wildlife'. No shop. No Sunday newspapers. No fresh pint of milk in the morning if you forgot to buy some on the mainland. My Irish friend moved there recently after years in Sydney. With husband and bub, she found sheer domestic bliss. I felt trapped and was going slightly nuts already after two days. Yes, the quietness is nice, but the crickets never shut up and make more noice than down town Syndey traffic. Having to plan your shopping, not having access to newspapers, and not being able to just meet a friend at a caf for a latte....it's not my scene. But I saw kookaburras. So for a holiday weekend it wasn't too bad.