Tulips from Amsterdam - Sunday

This time, I was up first and I showered and then went out for a walk and some breakfast. Amsterdam is a beautiful city and I loved it. It was so quiet. I bought some fresh fruit salad and ate that as I walked along. I then found a cafe and had a coffee and a waffle. I then started to walk back to the hotel because we had to be out of our room by 12.00 and I wanted to make sure Sammy was awake. She met me in the doorway as I was entering the building. We went and got a coffee for her and then went back and packed our bags and left them at the hotel so we could do some final sightseeing without being burdened with heavy bags.

We went to have a coffee in a cafe and sat outside. Sammy had something to eat - a basket of chips - and because she has such a small appetite, I had to help her. While we were sat there, a police car drew up and I felt compelled to take a picture for my husband, as I knew it would be of professional interest to him.

Then we went to a shop we had identified the evening before, where Sammy bought herself a little Buddha. I bought presents for two of my three children there - a cuddly Jesus for my son Harry (he looks a little like a Muppet Jesus and I think he's great [so for that matter does Harry]) and racing grannies for my older daughter, Charlie. I also got myself a fully poseable action figure of Sigmund Freud - a must for every person in a stressful job (or indeed every psychologist)! I was really taken by the cuddly Vincent Van Gogh with a detachable ear but I am going to leave him until my next visit.

During our perambulations around this beautiful city, (we were en route to the flea market by then), I found a rather wider canal than I had been previously used to. It had this beautiful bridge and I felt compelled to snap.

Next, we came to the Red Light District, this time in daylight. There were still some girls posing in shop windows, one of which was almost certainly a transvestite or lady-boy. We went in a Sex Shop (because it was there) and browsed through the leather, latex and other gear and the large variety of sex toys. One of the men who worked there kept asking if he could help but also seemed to be offering some kind of other service. He did not specify and we did not press him. We left empty-handed.

We then found a shop that sell clogs and lots of them. Here is Sammy sitting in a clog. Now, I know she's smaller than me but this is ridiculous! It's a Size 6 and would fit me! Sometime before this I had bought a smaller pair of clogs for my younger daughter, Bobbie. I think they're about a Size 1. She fits Size 8 so obviously they don't fit her.

The Flea Market was shut and we then made our way to the Anne Frank House. It started raining on the way and I was glad to get inside. Sammy has been there loads of times and chose to have a coffee at a cafe nearby instead. This was the first time I'd done anything really serious in Amsterdam. I am sort of familiar with the house and characters from the book and television programmes that I have watched but actually being in the house really brought it home to me. The most significant impression I received was how small the Annexe was. It is unfurnished now but the rooms are still claustrophobic. The exhibition that shows the eventual fate of Anne and those who lived with her in the Annexe was truly heart-rending and reading excerpts from letters her father wrote after the war brought a tear to my eye. It was a very sobering experience for me. I went into the Free2choose exhibition at the end and voted on a couple of issues before Sammy texted me and I went to join her.

Eventually, we went back to the hotel, retrieved our bags and set off for the airport. Once there, I bought some tobacco for my long-suffering husband and then we got a drink each. I got a beer and Sammy took a picture of me imbibing - one final souvenir of our visit.

The plane left on time and we actually landed a little ahead of time. Sammy drove me home from Blackpool Airport and that, my dear readers, is the story of my birthday treat in Amsterdam. Roll on next time!

Tulips from Amsterdam - Saturday

The next morning, I was hungover. Sammy went out for a coffee and some breakfast and I got out of bed gingerly and showered. Then Sammy got back and showered herself and we hit Amsterdam. First, we went into a piercing/tattoo parlour where Sammy and I looked at belly bars and what not. I decided that I wanted to have my tragus pierced and I wanted it done there. First though we walked down to Central Station.

On our way there, we met some punks. One of them had an Anti Nowhere League t-shirt on and I complimented him on it. He returned the compliment about my Goldblade t-shirt and told me they were playing that night. I decided I would love to see Goldblade play and Sammy was fine with the idea because it was my treat after all.

First we went to the Sex Museum. I had wanted to do 2 things in Amsterdam. Smoke some dope and see a sex show. Sammy didn't fancy the sex show but she was kind enough to let me visit the museum instead. It was a strange collection of erotic, disturbing and sometime hilarious exhibits. Sammy took my photo outside it after we had been round. It had been an eye opener for me.



We then went to an Internet Cafe to look for Clog shops and I checked out exactly when Goldblade would be playing and where. I noticed that the Anti Nowhere League were playing straight after and I suggested we see both bands and then leave.

I then went back to the piercing shop to have my tragus pierced and Sammy went to look for clogs. The piercing was an interesting experience. It took about half a second and no anaesthetic was used. It didn't start to hurt straight away and when it did, I was sat in a coffee shop drinking smoothies and using a good analgesic for the pain (the analgesic also reduced my ability to text my sister with any speed but, then again, it reduced my ability to care about it.) Here's a picture of the coffee shop.


Sammy joined me some time later - at least 2 smoothies later. I finished off my drink and analgesic and while I was doing this, she went to a noodle place for her tea. I joined her there and sat down to eat my noodles.

We then started off in the direction of the Melkweg to go to see Goldblade, who were to start their set in about an hour's time. We stopped off at a bar to have a beer on the way and I watched Chelsea win the FA Cup on the television there.

After that, there was no stopping me and as we drew near, my heart was gladdened by the sight of punks and skinheads. We went and got our wristbands and went in. We went into the Old Room first and saw the last couple of songs of (I presume) Church of Confidence (I have since checked the running order – I had no idea who they were at the time).

We then went into the Max Room and I went straight to the front so I could get liberally showered with John Robb's sweat (it has magical properties, I can assure you). Their first song is arguably my favourite - "Fighting in the Dancehall, F***ing in the Street" and I screamed along at the top of my voice, pointed vigorously at the band and jumped up and down and generally danced like a loon.

Part way through the set, I turned round and saw my great friend Anna. She loves Goldblade and so do I. We gave each other a big hug and then set to the serious business of dancing to them. Various people had got up on stage and John, as he invariably does, invited some more girls onto the stage. Anna got up. I thought about it for all of 3 seconds and decided, what the hell. I may not have been a girl for about 30 years but I'm still female. I got a leg up from a couple of gentlemen just in front of the stage and there I was. On stage with one of my favourite bands. Wow!!!! At one point, the audience was lit up and I saw Sammy waving at me with a huge grin on her face. Here is a picture of my view from the back of the stage. Not very good but I'm not a particularly good photographer at the best of times...



That's John Robb's naked, sweaty back there so don't get too excited, ladies! Well, the rest of the set passed in a haze of exhilaration and complete star-struckness. After they had finished and I had had my big sweaty hug off John Robb (I'll never wash my t-shirt again!), I got down off the stage and found Sammy. We went out for a breath of fresh air and then back in to see the Anti Nowhere League.

As we were going back into the Max Room, I saw Charlie Harper. I did what any sensible woman would do and tried to persuade Sammy to have her photo taken with him (he's always there in the crowd at these dos). She was too shy though so I had to do the necessary! As you can see, the alcohol I had so far consumed plus the analgesic I had purchased at the coffee bar had had a bit of an effect on me. Charlie looks suitably embarrassed. I think I look a complete loon.



Then back in for Anti Nowhere League's set. The crowd were a little rough for my liking but I got right up against the stage and took the buffeting from drunken punks with particularly bad grace. Especially when one gave me whiplash (ouch!). There was a young Russian guy called Pavel in the crowd and he got up on stage with Animal. I took his picture and I've now e-mailed them to him. I think that really made his weekend.


When the band had finished, Pavel and I swapped e-mail addresses so I could send him the photos I had taken of him and Animal. Sammy and I then went off to the Red Light district. After walking through it and me marvelling at the girls in the shop windows, we saw a coffee shop and we went in for a drink and some more analgesic for me.

I think I finally managed to have one analgesic too many and Sammy had to get me back to the hotel after that. I can remember feeling completely dissociated from what was going on around me but finding the experience completely fascinating (although I would have preferred to have been able to shift for myself better). Sammy got me back successfully and I slept like a baby.

To be continued again...

Tulips from Amsterdam - Friday

On Friday 18 May I went on a weekend trip to Amsterdam with my great friend, Sammy the Shark. Sammy had booked this for me as a birthday treat and it was my first real trip abroad for 24 years. We were supposed to fly from Blackpool Airport but as we were checking in, a rep from the airline told us that we were going to be bussed to Manchester and fly from there because of essential maintenance on the aircraft. Not a particularly auspicious start but, as Sammy pointed out, Manchester Airport is a bit of an experience in itself.

More auspicious was the presence of a sizeable contigents of punks and I remembered that it was Rebellion weekend in Amsterdam. On the bus we were treated to free entertainment by Louis, a punk who was clearly drunk. Manchester Airport was big but, to be honest, I would have preferred the more hassle free Blackpool. The plane was small and I had no legroom but what the hell, the flight was only an hour long.

I was like a small child on the plane. I have flown before but it was 24 years ago. I spent a lot of the time looking out of the window in wide-eyed wonder and I thought take off was brilliant. I had a Stella during the flight and then read an interesting scientific magazine I had brought with me.

Schipol was fine. We went through passport control, got our baggage and then Sammy went out for a smoke. I sat inside guarding our bags. Then a double decker train to Central Station in Amsterdam (Wow! Whatever next!) and then a tram to our hotel. The hotel was gorgeous and here's a photo of it.


We got our key, took the luggage into the room and then hit Amsterdam. A couple of hours and a few lagers later, we were sat outside Cafe Nasty (the name really appealed to Sammy). I've even taken a snap of that one too.


We were approached by an extremely drunk Dutchman. After presumably ascertaining that we were not dangerous, knife-wielding psychopaths, he called his younger brother over and we were treated to the full force of his charm. His younger brother did not speak much English but then again, we did not speak any Dutch. They were in Amsterdam for the weekend with their 3 other brothers (their mother must have been a superheroine!) and while we were chatting to them, these brothers joined the party in dribs and drabs. I'm not absolutely sure but I think they were called Theo, Martin, Tony, Mike and Teus.

After a while, they went off to pastures new and Sammy and I headed off to another bar. Now, my memory is pretty hazy but I do remember chatting to a guy in a Motorhead T-Shirt in one bar where the doorman was as camp as a row of tents. The man in the t-shirt was from the east of Holland and the camp doorman kept strutting around speaking in german, which was hilarious. According to the gentleman in the t-shirt, he was taking the michael because he comes from a place very close to Germany. Sammy then proceeded to talk to them in fluent German. I sat there drinking my beer and not understanding much of what they said. After a while the bar closed and we set off to find another, still open, bar.

We ended up back at Cafe Nasty and Sammy went off to strut her stuff on the dance floor. I had drunken conversations with a number of people. Then Sammy hooked up with a young New Zealand woman (hooked up in a platonic way) and we wandered off to find a Coffee Shop which was still open. We didn't find one but we did find three young (very young, they were all in their 20s) brazilian gentlemen, one of whom took a real fancy to Sammy. For some reason I was feeling protective (or maybe jealous). He was really keen but they disappeared after a while, we didn't find a coffee shop and we eventually repaired to our hotel at about 5am. I was pretty pissed and very knackered.

To be continued...

My First Ever Dance Out

Oh yes! I danced out for the first time ever on Thursday. I've managed to learn three dances in the two practises I have attended (of which I'm very proud) and I was looking forward to putting all this new knowledge into practise. We danced at the Malthouse pub in Chorley and when I arrived, most of the team were already there and ready to go. I don't have a hat or coat yet (actually, I do have a hat but it was untrimmed. I have since trimmed it and I love it!) so the team lent me a spare coat and I borrowed the hat of an absent member.

One of the ladies lent me some face paints and I blacked up and went out to join the rest of the team. The hat was a little bit small for my but I was ready to go.

First we danced Tinners and I insisted on going third (easiest for me). It's great dancing at practise but it's fabulous dancing in public. Then, while we were having a break, I went and got some money and bought myself a drink. I had, by then, been given some bells which I laced onto my boots. It was really strange walking up to the bar, jingling away, with my face blacked and a be-feathered (and studded) top hat on. Still, I got served and I walked outside with my half of Fosters in my hand.

Here's my first photo. I'm pretty sure the dance is Skirmish and it is brilliant. I have explained to the team that I need to learn this one. I can't explain why but I know that my life will be a sad and pitiful existence until I learn the dance.



Next, it was Ashpole. This is one I've learned and now danced twice in practise. I suppose that makes it "my" dance and I get the feeling I will always insist on dancing it (and I will stamp my feet if anybody tries to gainsay me) whenever we dance out. Somebody very kindly took my camera and took some snaps while I was dancing. Most are blurred (we dance very fast) but this one shows me quite clearly, waiting to start.

Ashpole went well and I managed to get it all right. I like Ashpole and I think it must look great to the audience because the figures (at last! I've remembered the word) will look so intricate but it is relatively easy for the dancers to remember (although one seasoned dancers took a wrong turn at one point!)

Next, I had to have my photo taken with Brent, our Father Christmas lookalike.

I love the way my fringe flops over my eyes in a totally emo (but in a totally gone wrong emo) way. I think I am going to have to pin it back somehow because it gets in my way when I'm dancing.

Well, we danced White Ladies and, although I'd only practised it once, I asked if I could dance and they said yes. I took a wrong turn once (not too bad) but my partner was very good and kept me on the straight and narrow for the rest of the dance. She was also very kind because I wanted to go on the left (which is the position I learnt it in) and she has a dicky left shoulder, which is awkward because there is a double hay in the dance (I'll let you imagine what a double hay is if you don't already know). She let me go on the left.

Well, there were more dances, including Crow's Nest and probably others, and it was getting dark. I took a few more pictures including this one:

We also danced Tinners twice more and dragged bar staff and audience members into the dance. That is something I love about this team - audience participation. They even got the landlady out of the pub and she danced too. I had to leave early (just gone 10.30) because I had work the next day.

I got home and uploaded the pictures onto the computer and went to bed. The next day, I put them on my MP3 player (the internet was down so I couldn't e-mail them) and took them into work and proudly showed them to anybody who would look at them. Somebody asked me who Big Foot is. I'm sure Brent won't mind!

Another Thursday, Another Practise

It has to be said, I love Morris Dancing. Stone the Crows very kindly held an extra practise for the beginners of the group yesterday, this time at the Railway Pub in Leyland - the school was being used as a polling station. When I got to the pub, I saw that the majority of the clientele were what I would refer to as Chavs. I have nothing against Chavs. Well, actually I have because they are rude to my emo/scene daughters. I saw them through the window and walked into the pub armed with only a bottle of water and my handbag. Inside were two of the Team and one, a true gentleman, bought me a drink. Morris is thirsty work after all. I was introduced to the other Team member and as the others drifted in, reducing the Chav:Border Morris ratio somewhat, we went to a room in the back and made room by pushing some of the chairs and tables out of the way.

After a warm up, we danced Tinners, which, fortunately, I had not completely forgotten. Then we went through a number of the "moves" that make up the dances. I'm sure there is a word other than "move" but I tend to be a bit excited at Morris practises and many of the words I hear go right out of my head afterwards. What I do know is, I learnt/practised the Hay in some of its various guises and others, whose names I have completely forgotten now, although I think I remember how to dance them.

I also learnt a new dance - White Ladies (quite complicated and great fun) and had another go at Ash Pole, also quite complicated but I'd done it once before. The amount of energy I expended is evidenced by the amount of water I drank - nearly a litre. Usually, I'm a bit of a camel and don't drink for days.

Afterwards, we repaired to the pub (this is getting a bit of a habit now), where I was starstruck by the presence of a well known northern comedian. I didn't have to go through the pickled egg ceremony, even though I had admitted to my deceit in my previous blog and then invited the whole group to read it!

Our Father Christmas lookalike told the same joke for the third week in a row (I remember it from last week):

A scouse is coming out of Asda with a piece of meat under his coat.
"What are you doing with that?" says the security guard.
"Oh, some potatoes, carrots, peas..."

I told this one:

Did you hear about the man who lived in a tyre?
He moved out when he got a flat.

BOOM BOOM!!!!!

Next week, I get the opportunity to dance in public. They are going to lend me a rag coat for the occasion. I'm really looking forward to it.