Final Call for Mr. J Fennell

Well, that’s the end of that chapter. And what an exhilarating chapter it was! There are certain periods of your life where you just think: ‘Wow, this it. This is what life is all about.’ The kind of moments that you look back on, as you flip through the photo albums at the back of the cupboard (anyone actually still have ‘’real’’ paper photo albums anymore?!), the thousands of Facebook pictures or indeed my marvelous little film(s) (Even if I do say so myself ;)) and then instantly feel the need for a time machine. I’m not dreading my time in Germany, I’d just rather it be postponed until, well, like, indefinitely…

The Germans have already started annoying me by not letting me move into my room when I wanted to, which, might I add, I’ve already paid a hell of a lot of money for! So we’ve not started well Germany and my feet haven’t even touched your Germanic soil yet. But I’m willing to forgive you if the rest of your bureaucratic nonsense runs more or less smoothly. Maybe. It’ll take something special to beat Nederland, but anything is possible.

But, something exciting happened last Friday. To round off what has been a stunning 6 months, I had the enormous pleasure and honour of showing two very special guests around the legend of a place that is Nijmegen! Did Queen Beatrix and a friend put in a surprise visit? Not exactly, she was busy that day, but I got the next best thing: Yeti and Roel! It was the perfect finale to my short stay, the icing, and also a cherry aswell, on the cake. Maybe even two. It was fantastic. It started at 9am, which is by the way the earliest I’ve ever been at the university here, but sometimes you just have to sacrifice a good night’s sleep/long lie in, so that you can do things for the greater good. And this was both great and good. A dramatic end if ever there was one and, of course, the squash courts were the highlight of the tour around the university!

I’ve not got much more to say. The tear drops on the keyboard are making it somewhat more difficult to type. But there is one thing I would like to say: Thank you Nijmegen and thank you to everyone that I have met and spent many happy hours with. You’ve all played a fantastic part, but the curtain is about to come down for the halftime interval. So get yourself an ice cream, pop to the loo (toilet) and make sure you come back here for what I’m sure will be a just as thrilling second half in Germany. Now, I can’t perform miracles but I’ll try and make it as thrilling as possible.

Until then,

It’s goodbye from me, and its goodbye Nijmegen.

Over and out

xxx

P.S. I've released TWO new videos!!! Go here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flV8Be1fims for the Nijmegen Special (Remix coming soon) and here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yhorc9SlNRQ for some German scariness :)

All Change Please

Evening all,

My fingers were itching to write something this evening so I’m unleashing them here and to quote a dead legend/paedophile/all-round weirdo: ‘This is it’.

The journey started way back on 19^th July, but it feels just like yesterday. (And yes, I did just use that cliché) For those of you that really know me, you’ll know that seriousness isn’t really a part of me and you only have to read the drivel in the previous blogs to appreciate that fact. Life is too short to be serious! But, for one blog only, I’m digging deep to find that serious part within me. Honestly, it’s there somewhere.

It’s been a hell of a journey; I’ve enjoyed every second and want to do it again! I’ve met some amazing people who have really made my time here fantastic and form the front cover of the book. I’ve met some proper weirdos, the sort of people who you ask yourself how they managed to find their way out of the womb, let alone to Holland. They form all that small text in books at the beginning which only ever gets read by other weirdos. The late nights, the insane amount of beer, the fretting about the Dutch presentation in front of all those scary Dutch people... All these things are now ingrained in me and I’ll never forget them (Cliché number 7).

But I want to talk about an affair. Or more specifically, maybe even a slight bit of incest. I have to admit that 2 and a bit years ago when I first started learning Dutch, I wasn’t all that into it. It was a sort of ‘Yeah, why not’ decision that, at that time, wasn’t really going to make a difference to me. After all, JUST WHY DOES AN ENGLISHMAN WANT TO LEARN DUTCH?! (Oooohh, if I had a euro cent for every time someone asked that one...!) My love at that time was German. Dutch just didn’t even come close. The two languages are incredibly similar, but yet at the same time, so different. It was a sort of Aunt that you know you should get along with as she is family after all, but she was just so annoying and you just couldn’t get rid of her. At parties she’d be the drunken one, embarrassing everyone.

But over the last 6 months, Dutch and I have got on like a ‘fiets on fire’. (Fiets is bike in Dutch by the way) It has grown on me so much that it now proudly takes place as my 2^nd language. This is something that I didn’t think would happen. And to complete the analogy: I’m now in love with my Aunt. Sounds wrong, and it is, but you get the picture. My German is pretty much non-existent or dangerously Dutchified. But I can't imagine my life without Dutch. It's simply 'leuk'.

Since coming back to Holland after a quick festive break, I’ve lived by the motto ‘Carpe Diem’, or its Dutch equivalent: ‘pluk de dag’, literally ‘pluck the day’ or in simple English: Seize the day. I’ve been here, there and everywhere doing all sorts including the most surreal experience of my life: An amateur game show in a pub including a round of connect 4, Loopin’ Louie and a quiz round where apparently Stoke-on-Trent is bigger than Nottingham! (It’s not) And all that in Dutch.

So, it really is almost time to say goodbye. And it really is going to break my heart.

But all good things must come to an end, so that other good things can begin.

And that, my friends, is about as serious as I’ll ever be.

xXx

Dude, Where’s my Bike?

There comes a time in everyone’s life where things start to go slightly pear-shaped. And no, I’m not talking about that mid-life crisis where you start to put a few pounds on that somewhat youthful looking waist. That’s not happened. Yet, at least ;) What I mean is that certain things don’t go as smoothly as perhaps they should and if I’m honest, I didn’t expect it to happen this early in my life. What I am talking about, I hear you cry? Well for lack of a better name, let’s call it ‘forgetfulness’. Simply put, the grey matter between my ears has simply appeared to stop functioning. Perhaps it has something to do with all this fresh air whilst cycling, which is sometimes VERY fresh indeed let me tell you!!

My brain seems to totally overreact to this abundance of air and forgets things, namely where in the good lord’s name did I put my bike.

I wish it were funny, but I’ve estimated I spend more time looking for the thing than actually riding it. The time spent looking for the ‘Fennell Fiets’ (Fiets is Dutch for bike, by the way. You pronounce it like FEETS my fellow English readers) goes up depending on the amount of beers in the blood stream. Now, there was one horrible, horrible night where I couldn’t for the life of me remember where I put the god damned contraption. After at least 30mins of desperately searching I gave up and trundled off homeward bound until I was rather heroically picked up by some fellow international students. When I say picked up, what I mean is that I was told to pedal, whilst the passenger sat happily on the back...

The most irritating part of this story is that my bike was in the very next row of bike racks, to the ones which I was harassing in order to find it. Definitely a D'oh moment... An interesting trail of thoughts goes through your head when trying to find that illusive bike... The first thought isn’t, ‘oh no, somebody has stolen my bike!’ No, far from it. It’s actually: Right, which bike doesn’t have a lock on it..? For the record I’ve not stolen a bike and do not intend to :) I need some sort of neon lighting to aid me in my quest to find it. Or perhaps a Fiets-Jeeves who I could call to collect me when I want to go home. That would be marvellous. All I know is that it seems to happen on a regular basis - even during the day. After playing squash I come out to find that bike and I just have no idea where it is...! Popping to the shops too. On exit, it takes some effort to remember where it is! I need to draw maps from now on...

The name of my bike is ‘Gazelle’. And no, I didn’t make that up; that’s what it says on the side. Apparently it is a common makes of bike here in the Netherlands, just like the Gazelle is one of the most common animals in Africa.

According to Wikipedia, ‘Gazelles are known as swift animals, able to maintain speeds as high as 50 miles per hour!’ Splendid. If only someone would tell my bike that. It rides more like a gazelle that’s been eaten by a lion and then spat back out. Even 5 miles an hour would be a miracle for this sorry excuse for a Gazelle. The gear change is close to non-existent and if it does happen, it’s more by luck than anything else. You could be calmly trotting down the big red cycle path when suddenly: BANG! You’re back in the top gear. Surprises all round then. You do actually live up to your name though as I think you enjoy running around like a Gazelle whilst I'm not there and move yourself to another spot, thus causing all my problems! We could, however, also mention the two flat tyres.

Though that’s probably my fault. But I’m British so I’ve got to blame someone else: the Fennell Fiets it is then. So proud, I put my name on it? Nah, I just adore alliteration.

I have one more thing to say: Gazelle 246, you’ve let your fellow Gazelles down, you’ve let me down, but most of all, you’ve let yourself down. If I didn’t need you right now to cover the marathon distance between my ‘house’ (that’s a whole other story) and the university, I would quite happily feed you to the lions. Oh hang on; even they don’t want you...

Speculoos causes security scare in Eindhoven /\ Third world war avoided on Ryanair Flight /\ Sheffield Calling

Well… I write to you from my homeland. From my cosy little bedroom with all that stuff I left behind all those weeks ago before beginning my journey to the land ofOranje! It’s all still here, in exactly the same place. However, there appears to be nice layer of dust that has nestled its way on top of most things!!! That maid service has obviously been slacking whilst I’ve been away…Tut tut mother!

So, this trip is as unexpected to me as it is to you. Spur of the moment decision and the need of some food that comes out of an actual OVEN (yes, I still have not got one in NL!) forced my hand to come home. But my goodness is it nice to be back!!!It’s been 3 months almost to the day since I left these shores and I suppose I was feeling a bitabroad bored, so I took the hit of some overpriced Ryanair tickets and set sail,LONDON bound.And there is nothing that says welcome home more than a lovelycockney accent which greeted me at passport control. Just loved it and had to laugh out loud! It’s been too long! As much as I love this ''International style variation of English'', a nice cockney was in order. (Don't make your own jokes up there..) Followed by a “Rosy Lee” (Cop of Tea), a walk up the “Apples and Pears” (stairs) and chat on the “Dog and Bone” (Phone), my homecoming was complete.

But more interesting than all that soppy stuff is what ACTUALLY happened on my flight… Probably a world first. I had already taken my seat next to the window and about to fall asleep. (NOTE: this is after a nice 10min bike ride to the train station, laden with suitcase at 5.30AM! Followed by an hour train journey and a 20 minute bus ride. I was tired!) Anyhows, this girl/young lady sat on the aisle seat, cleverly leaving the middle seat free between us (or she preferred to sit far away from me? Can’t imagine that’s true though..). The plane filled up quickly and some rather too awake Dutch youths boarded.

Most found seats apart from one lass who in the most polite Dutch ever asked if she could, ‘possibly, maybe, just sit there?’ pointing to the seat in between me and the aisle girl. The reply was short and sharp from this said girl: “Nee”. Or a big FAT NO to you and me. No? Sorry?! Had I misheard that and simply imagined that in my sleepy state? No, she really did say no and then carry on as if that was normal! As you can imagine, that didn’t go down too well and a few heated words were exchanged with the end result being that the still-standing Dutch youth simply said she’d “rather sit in the toilet...!” Now, that is a claim and a half! She didn’t. Which is a shame as that would have made this tale perfect! Needless to say, nobody else tried to sit in that seat…

In Eindhoven airport itself, I was accused of being a terrorist, plotting to do some serious damage with my jar of Dutch chocolate spread. Ohhhh, dangerous…

It was removed from my luggage with the added comment that it could be used as some sort of fuel. I’d really like to see him try get that jet off the ground with a 400g jar of Speculoos. Come on people. KEEP IT REAL! If i wanted to do some real damage (which I didn't, just to clear that up :) ), I wouldn't walk into an airport with a jar of CHOCOLATE SPREAD in my bag, which i then subsequently let you search through in order to find it! (The offending article is on the left, so if you see anyone with it: please call the police immediately...)

So I’m home and staying here for a week! I’ll be revisiting the city of steel and there may be an update about that later. Maybe. My Blogging frequency seems to be slipping… I don’t know why exactly, it’s not like I’m rushed off my feet. Maybe it’s because I can’t remember where my feet have been…? Hmmm….

Till next time. But in the meantime change your Facebook status now to tell the whole world something mundane and utterly useless. Oh, you’ve already done that… ;)

James

xXx

Tall, politics, push und pull, mind-blowing and party centraal

Ahhh... We meet again my friends. Glad that you could make it. Ready for an update? Good, then here we goooooooo........

I knew the Dutch were a tall bunch. But WOW, they are giants. I feel like one of the 7 Dwarfs, probably Sleepy after this continuous assualt of all night parties. Anyhow, after much research and consultation i've found out why they are indeed very tall. Here is my best explanation:

"It comes from the fact that most of the country is under sea level and so when everything does indeed go 'tits-up' and water starts pouring in from left, right and centre, then only the tallest ones will survive as they are the only ones who will be able to stick their necks up above the water level. Due to evolution theory and other complex issues, all the short people have unfortunately been refused a Dutch passport and/or become German."

So, there you have it. Now I know I'm not the tallest in England but when you sit in a class full of young, Dutch women and you are the shortest there, then that starts to eat away at you...

One VERY, VERY important lesson to learn no matter which country you go to is to learn the words for push and pull, in, for example, the instructions of how to operate a door. There are terrible, terrible consequences for you if you don't learn these... For example, the word push in Dutch is 'duwen'. There is nothing about this word that tells you it means push and the helpful arrow next to it on the door could mean anything. So you are left well and truly alone here to make your decision.

Imagine: you're the first to go through the door with a row of people behind you, probably Dutch. You have to make a split-second decision. Do I push or do I pull? The choice is difficult because the doors here try to trick you. You never know if it's a pusher or a puller. The word for pull is 'trekken' which again leaves you clueless. So do you trek or do you duuw? Now what often happens to me is that I trek a duwer or I duuw a trekker. And that's not good. You look stupid and then you make a huffy puffy sound as if to say that it was the door's fault. Which in fairness it was as a) it wasn't open in the first place and b) it didn't make it blindlingly obvious of I should trek or duuw! Doors! Who needs 'em?

Changing topic completely, I would like to bring your attention to the wonders, or rather the simply completely mind-blowing complexity, of being in a German class with predominantly Dutch native speakers (with a few Germans who blatantly want to be just about anywhere else but in the class!)

Now the teacher speaks German, she is after all GERMAN. But the students... My lord! I don't know whether to speak German, Dutch, Chinese or Swahili. And trying to constantly change your mind set so that you can speak Dutch and German is just so freakin damned hard that I'm glad when the 90mins are over!! Honestly, it's like trying to tell the difference between semi-skimmed milk and full-fat milk just by looking at it. Impossible. And don't even get me started on my ability to speak German.... It gets more and more interesting by the day...!

To round off, we'll talk politics. Now the political situation in the Netherlands is, well, interesting... Apparently nobody is running the country at the moment, the Queen's speech the other week was less than impressive and not actually written by her and to top that, some cheeky little bugger threw a little candle holder thing at her royal carriage whilst she was in it. Many things wrong with that. Firstly, why a candle holder when there are many, many more things which would do a lot more damage...! Secondly, why is everyone suddenly ganging up on the Queenie? Leave her alone! But I think there is a coalition now. I think. Or there will be one. Anyone actually know? The Dutch love to talk politics. Brilliant..!

So, I leave you now. I be back soon. Maybe baby.

Ciao

James

xXx

There are times when you just want a good old Sheffieldian Hill...

Yes, you did indeed read that right. I’m missing what I’ve spent a good 2 years complaining about: The Seven Hills of Sheffield, although in reality we all know that there are in fact more than 7...

Holland: the land of flatness. If there weren’t some silly scientific rules that say it’s impossible to roll a ball from Nijmegen to Amsterdam, then I’m pretty sure I could roll a ball from Nijmegen to Amsterdam. It’s that flat. The biggest hill here is the wheelchair access ramp to the lecture halls. I’m not kidding. I long for a proper hill, one where once you’ve reached the top you pant, ‘Jesus, who thought building a town in the hilliest place known to man was a good idea?’

For all those people in Sheffield: I envy you! Lucky you with all those hills... However... There is one advantage of being in Nijmegen: Cycling is easy. Although when you have a passenger, well, that’s another story (isn’t it Aimeé...). Scarred for life.

Though I do miss a good old walk to and from University. Cycling is fine but I’ve not quite mastered the carrying an umbrella (almost took out about 6 innocent pedestrians last week...) whilst on my phone, carrying a small box trick which just about everyone else seems to be able to do.

Wow, that’s a lot about hills... What else have Ibeen doing?! Well, I’m now famous in the Dutch/German/English office as I spent the best part of the first week there! Almost a fellow secretary there I tell thee!

To get anything done here, you have to go through about 3 people and probably even then, you’re still not sure if what you wanted to happen has happened. My first week has involved emotions ranging from 'sheer confusion' to 'utter bewilderment'. I never seem to be registered for courses which I should be, which kind of makes the whole painful and lengthy ‘Learning Agreement’ process pointless, Maybe I’m just not being as organised as I usually am but some days I think, ‘What the hell am I doing now?!’ It’s not as easy/simple as it is at Sheffield :) For starters I never really fully understand what’s occurring in lessons. I’ve infiltrated a course which is only meant for actual Dutch students and sometimes the teacher will say something about a lesson from the previous year and the whole class will start reminiscing about a certain event, meanwhile, I’ll be sitting there and laughing blissfully along, taking some sort of sympathy from the fact that I know they’re talking about something I haven’t the foggiest about.

Printing the numerous bits and bobs out for classes etc is a mission in itself, especially when they tell you to print stuff out but you’re not actually part of the online group allowing you access to the file, so you actually can’t do it. Then you have to get a special card to let you actually print something off. Why not use the Student Card they gave me as some sort of payment card just like we have at Sheffield?! Much easier. Honestly, it’s like living in the stone age.

This is all very negative! I’m sorry. I’m actually still having a good time. I suppose I’ve just been reading The Sun too much and therefore exaggerate everything, focus on stupid things and never report the good stuff in the world.

So I shall end on a HIGH. No, no, not from that funny stuff which people kind of, maybe, aren’t, but are allowed to smoke in certain places, but actually with a picture of a touch-screen machine in the supermarket which I found quite funny. Maybe I’m just a kid but I had a giggle!

Cigarettes or shag? What a choice....

Now unfortunately I don’t smoke sooo...

(For the more curious amongst you, ‘shag’ is only the stuff which you put in cigarettes, so the Red Light District didn't just suddenly appear...)

We also have a 'beautiful' bike shed,

according to our 'Caretaker', and this is where I took my next photo (or for the Dutch readers of this blog: this is where I 'made' this photo)

And who has the heart to tell this furry little fella to move? I know I couldn’t do it. Could you?

!! IN OTHER NEWS !!

So I also have a Dutch Blog now too.

It is HERE: http://all-double-dutch.blogspot.com/

I've aptly named it: It's All Double Dutch To Me. Even kijken

If you're one of the unlucky ones who can't speak Dutch, then there are some pretty pictures ;) If are a foreigner and able to digest the language of the Oranje then klik op de link :) And if you are Dutch then feel free to have a grammatical rant.

Veel plezier en succes met alles :D

van je lieve James

Groetjes :D

xXxXx

Time for a Breather

My my. What a hectic time! I don’t think I’ve ever actually been so busy in my entire life and strange things are happening to my language capabilities. I’m not sure if you know, I may, or may not have mentioned it, BUT, I was ‘The best Germanic Studies Student’ at the end of Year 1 (as voted by the overwhelming majority of, well, the overwhelming majority..?!). However, now I can’t speak German to save my life. This is not good seeing as I’m also doing a German course here too! Believe me I’ve tried to speak to my good German buddies here but all that comes out are ‘ik’, ‘ben’ and ‘maar’ instead of ‘ich’, ‘bin’ and ‘aber’... So I feel like I’ve gone back about 4 years. Mindblowing... I’d rather speak in Dutch now! Sod der/die/das/denen/dessen/dem etc, just say ’de’ It’s amazing what 5 weeks does. Practically Johan Cruijff now. (If you don’t know who that is: Google)

So, what have I been up to? Perhaps easier to say what I’ve not been doing: sleeping. All day, everyday, it is party time! One problem though: I can’t physically take it anymore! I need a

holiday... Oh wait, I’m an ERASMUS student. Pretty much a holiday then ;) To the right you will see my lovely group mentors Gaby and Vincent! Hartelijk bedankt mensen :D

Here are a few things which are now getting quite on my t*ts after 5 weeks:

1. The Dutch transport company seem to make it as difficult as possible for you to actually buy a ticket. There a machines at every station. That’s great. However, what’s not great is that most of them don’t let you pay by coin. None of them take notes and you can’t use your foreign debit card to purchase them. Thus, this generates the greatest possibility as a newbie in Holland, that a nice inspector will come along and slap a hefty fine on you as you’ve got no ticket. It’s one-nil to the money grabbing company who also charge you 50 CENTS if you buy a ticket from a counter at a station!? Man alive!! You could get an OV chipkaart (type of Oyster card for my fellow Londoners) where they will also rinse you of €7.50 just to buy the thing... oh and if you forget to check out after finishing your journey, you’ll be shot or something. Wow, that was a rant and a half. I’ll give you that for free. In Holland, they’d probably charge you. (This experience is thanks to our very own Laura 'The first Brit to visit me' Barnes! Never travelling with that one again! What an absolute MARE!!!)
2. Next: Water. Yes that stuff which this country is finely balanced upon or under or whatever is in abundance here. It hasn’t stopped raining for about 2 weeks now and I’m getting worried as I live next to a river... anyhow, that wasn’t the point. Why do I have to PAY for water? Restaurants, cafés etc they’re all the same: that’ll be €2 please. SORRY! What?! Unbelievable.
3. Last one for this blog: Shops... Never open when you need something; never have what you need if they are indeed open and the prices are always wrong. And what sort of opening hours are 4pm – 8pm on a Sunday? Give me my 24 hour Tesco. Enough said.

Now for something more light-hearted. There is no oven in my kitchen?! I live a good 25 minute bike ride away from the university which is just so annoying. Now I really appreciate Sheffield Uni accommodation being so close. The quality of the accommodation here is also, erm, what’s the word.... erm, oh yeah: SHIT. It’s like living in a ghetto for international students. I like the way Nijmegen decides to just shove most of the foreigners across a bridge and a light year away from anything. I’m thinking apartheid here. My next conundrum is that I have no idea what I’m doing in terms of courses, which start tomorrow, and I’ve pretty much been told one of the courses I’m doing in Dutch, which is for actual Dutch students, is going to be almost impossible to pass. Great.

On the up side, there is an unlimited supply of Dutch and German TV, I can pass by the station everyday and pick up my free Metro Newspaper to keep my mind busy and there are many friendly Germans and Dutch people to talk a multitude of languages with. I really enjoy the music here. It’s like living 15 years ago, just classic after classic!! Oh and there is MORE: I’m going to play squash (YAY) and hopefully with Dutch people, I have a very helpful Dutch mentor who I can pester whenever and the beer is cheap.

It’s raining again... I’m going outside to assign everyone an ark

Zie je straks mensen :)

Don’t miss me too much and always ‘doe je best’

James

xXx