Glad to be back home, at last.
Glad to be with the wife and kids, and cats.
For the whole of yesterday I (i.e. my senses) was quite alright. But my body ain't. It’s like the mind and soul were ok, but the body failed to synchronise. I thus, sleep, and have slept a lot. It was not a pleasant sight, according to my dear wife, on how I looked, and sounded during this marathon sleep.
But I still love you nevertheless, she said.
Right, so where was I for most of last week?
It's work and play.
I arrived at Amsterdam Schiphol Airport (AMS) from KLIA (KUL) after a long haul 12 hour journey. As always, I looked for an aisle seat near the exit door (yeap ... on economy class) so that I could stretch my legs and it's gonna be easy to go to the loo, when nature calls.
There were two mat saleh guys sitting beside me. A Welsh guy named Peter (an ex-cop, really?) who took a time off to Aussie and Indon. The other was a Dutch guy named DJ who works for an NGO company doing some rehabilitation works in Acheh (such a noble cause) especially for the tsunami aftermath. He told me that it still can’t be explained why the Baitur-Rahman mosque is still intact when everything (he meant everything) else were swept away by the water. The two guys were good people, though the lead stewardess Ms Uma Devi (this beautiful lady looked like a Malay) purposely tossed the perfume lotion on the floor where we stretched our feet.
'Encik, tak boleh bau ke stokin mat saleh tu?', while nodding to DJ who appeared to understand nothing.
‘Saya faham, tapi itu lah stokin yang saya ada.’ DJ spoke up in his thick accent, when Uma left.
Anyway, DJ was kind enough to scribble some places of interests in Amsterdam for both Peter and me. In fact, he even bought me a train ticket gratis (that’s free in Dutch, and Indon) from Schiphol to Amsterdam Centraal (central train station). Peter asked whether he could buy me a drink in Amsterdam. Yeah, why not (do they sell fruit juices or sparkling mineral water in the pub?).
‘I’ll send e-mails to both of you, and the photos as well. Take care.’
I managed to meet up with my customer (after few SMSs and phone calls) nearby his Museum Hotel, who came here 3 days earlier for another assignment of his. But not before I spent like one solid hour admiring Dutch grandmaster painters’ masterpieces at Rijksmuseum. I can’t actually describe how everything else was keeping still while only the milk was like flowing, when looking at Vermeer’s Milkmaid painting. And obviously anything from Rembrandt made it worthwhile to pay the 10 euros entrance ticket.
 |
Vermeer's Milkmaid, simply breathtaking,
observe the intense light streams from the window. |
Let me skip the Red Light District story. Pass.
The next morning we took a train to Apeldoorn. It’s an hour of smooth ride. We were greeted by Nico Liem, who’s in charged of international marketing and chauffeured us to the Head Office in his new 3-Series.
‘And before you ask, let me tell about myself. I have some Chinese Indonesian blood.’ Ohh, no wonder Nico looks, not that Dutch.
After a quite successful presentation on our global company and the Europe Office (I did a short presentation on the Malaysian office) and as to why our customer should choose us for their Control System and Safety Solutions in their
Caspian Projects (and hopefully other projects as ell), and factory visits, we then concluded the day and off for lunch.
I reminded previously in my email to Nico and Will de Groot (the MD) that if they wanted to treat us lunch, get us the halal food or at least seafood.
And with that nice seafood lunch at the Michelin-approved
restaurant, business was over, and both of my customer and me were officially tourists from Malaysia.
That afternoon we took a 20 minutes train from Amsterdam to Zaanse Schans, where we met some
Malaysian Malays.
On Thursday, we took the intercity train to Den Haag (The Hague) the capital city. Thereafter, we took a tram to Madurodam to see the Holland in Miniature, which was quite impressive. The buildings were solidly made, and the scaled vehicles (trains, tram, cars, lorries, aeroplanes, boats etc) were actually moving. There were sounds and lights too. Then another tram ride to Scheveningen, a beach resort. The weather was not in our favour (and why was that?), at around 16 to 18 degrees C, and windy too. Else, we should be seeing people (bodies) soaking in the summer sun, enjoying the nature in the most 'natural' way.
‘Er brother, should we go to the mosque, at least to balance up (and to spin some good story to our spouses) our tour? It’s in the city guide map, anyway.’
‘Yeah, why not.’ Replied my customer, who now has become my brother-in- adventure in this foreign land.
After a long walk across the straats and canals, we arrived at the Turkish mosque called Fatih Camii. We were greeted with smiles from the few gentlemen in the mosque’s entrance.
‘Are you Malaysians?’ I felt relief, similar to the feeling when offering solats at 35,000 feet above sea level during intercontinental flights.
This was the best thing of all the places in Holland.
Since we had done our jamak prayers, we only said the tahiyatul-masjid prayers at the mosque, and took some pictures to back up our story.
And to balance it further to the dark side, that evening, I went to a cinema called Pathe to watch HP and the OOTP.
On Friday morning, I said bye-bye to Amsterdam and hope to see you soon, not having to wait nineteen years like this trip, maybe with my dear wife.
And off to Schiphol Airport.
From AMS, I had to take Lufthansa flight to Frankfurt (FRA). From FRA, another 11 hour flight to KLIA.
At FRA, the airport security was tight. Really tight. Something like in the US airports, except I didn’t have to take out my shoes. From one terminal to the other, during check-in and boarding, I have to take out my watch, wallet, everything in the pockets, including the belt.
As many times I had to do this (maybe three times), that many times, I had revealed some sightings (not so pleasant, I think) of my checked boxer shorts.
