The Blue Mountains

I can talk a lot. Always chatting with someone, always engaged in some discussion or just talking to myself. What I witnessed on my trip to the Blue Mountains got my lost for words. I will do my best to explain and describe it to you, but no story or even picture can do justice to the truly majestic sight I was lucky enough to behold.

Unfortunately for you it was the very last stop of the day where I got to see this amazing sight. So I guess you´ll have to read on a little bit more.

With only one more day left in Sydney before departing for Byron Bay I decided to take a day trip to the Blue Mountains. I booked it through the hostel. About 100 km west of the city lies an immense national park. In the center lies the town called Katoomba and the mountains stretch about 100 km in either the northern or southern direction.

A still sleepy fellow with hair to just above his shoulders, a beer belly and a general scruffy look picked me up at 7 am in front of the hostel. His name is Rod (short for Rodney) and he would be the driver and the guide for the day. He was quite a character. He had very dry humor, which I can appreciate. He was on point the entire day. Counting all people, making sure everyone had what they needed, but still had a very distracted look to him. He had been a Blue Mountains tour guide for the past 10 years and some of his jokes were a trick. It reminded me of the time I worked as divemaster in Curacao. Same jokes, different crowd. But it worked and the 12 guests, including myself, all had a smile on or face as we left the city behind us.

Rod explained that 99% of the Blue Mountains consist of Eucalyptus forest, but on some more shaded areas there is some tropical rainforest to be found. Such was the case at Leura Cascades, our first stop. “The view you’re about to see is nothing yet. You might think it is beautiful, but actually I is shit”, Rod said. “After this I’ll show you some places that are really amazing. The places where no big busses full of Chinese people can come. Secret places”, he said.

The Leura Cascades were actually pretty cool and I couldn’t wait to see the ‘secret’ places. After a short hike along a narrow path that winded up and down alongside the mountain lined with huge ferns, palm trees, tea trees and a wide range of plants I’ve never seen before we came across a chain closing off the trail. It had a sign on it which read: ‘Danger. Do not cross’. A few minutes before Rod had told me, “When you see the chain. Go underneath it and continue to the lookout point. I will meet you there”.

The view was great. You could see down on to the Leura Cascades and into a valley where the morning fog laid a thick white blanket over the forest. I looked like a river of clouds and was quite stunning. If this view was ‘shit’, I wondered what Rod had in store for us.

We tracked back to the little tour bus, which looked like the big brother of the Mystery Machine. Winding roads through a few small towns brought us to the next stop, called Pulpit Rock. The view was already a lot better than at Leura Cascades. The Blue Mountains look a bit like the Grand Canyon only the valley floor is covered in Eucalyptus forest as far as the eye can see. Eucalyptus trees have a faint blue glow to them hence the name, The Blue Mountains. On the other side of the valley a narrow but very tall waterfall could be seen. Next to it the rock face was covered with plants. It was locally known as the hanging gardens. Every so often the plants get too heavy and fall down, leaving bare sandstone patches on the green wall.

It was to be our next destination. Although it looked like it was far away it only took us 15 minutes to get to the other side.

The plan was to hike to the lookout point next to the waterfall, which is called The Bridal Veil fall. Then track back a little and follow the creek up stream. Rod would take the bus and meet us at the end of the trail. For some reason he asked me to be the last one in the group to make sure that everyone would arrive safely at the meeting point.

It was a very nice hike. Not too difficult, off the beaten path and through a beautiful part of the Blue Mountains. It took us about an hour to finish the trail and most were happy to be back in the bus and rest their feet.

“Ok gangsters. That is a hiphop reference. The next stop will be quite touristy”, Rod said dryly. “We are going to Echo Point and take a look at the Three Sisters. There is a legend, that I think is made up by the Europeans to make it more interesting, that goes as follows. Thousands of years ago there were 3 sisters who were in love with 3 warriors of a rivaling tribe. According to tribal law the sisters were not allowed to marry. But being warriors, the other tribe decided to take the girls anyway. A war broke out and to protect the sisters a witchdoctor turned them into stone. Unfortunately the witchdoctor got killed in battle and the sisters remain stone pillars until this day.”

We had about 25 minutes to look around. Afterwards Rod would take is to a very special real secret place, which can’t be found in any Lonely Planet or other travel guide.

The view at the Three Sisters was great gave a beautiful panoramic view. There were several mounts to be seen. One of them was called Mt. Jellore. My own mountain right here at the other end of the world. Who would have thought?

Here there were busloads of Asians and elderly people. One Asian guy had his headphones in and was singing out loud. Oasis, Katy Perry and Brian Adams were part of his repertoire. He could be one of those candidates for Pop Idol who think they can sing and gets kicked out at the auditions. It was hilarious. I feel kind of bad for the guy, since he was obviously oblivious to the fact everyone was laughing at him. But he did manage to bring a smile to the face of everyone there. Big up to the Asian guy!

The time had finally come. Our last stop of the day at Rod’s secret spot. A place called Sunset Rock. Just a small rocky ledge hidden in between thick bushes. The view was incredible. There were a few Germans in the group that could be quite loud. “Oh my god, this is amazing”, one of them shouted. “God has nothing to do with this”, I told her. “And can you keep it down. I’m trying to enjoy this view without you ruining the moment”. That helped for about 5 minutes, so I wandered off and followed the ledge to distance myself from the others in an attempt to take in this truly amazing sight.

An enormous valley with rolling hills covered in a blue-ish green forest. You could see pathways in the canapé where creeks and rivers flowed. It was hard to imagine that all this was eroded by water over millions of years. I listened to the silence. Never have I experienced such silence. No distant highway or other manmade structure to pollute the sound ways. Just the wind, the faint sound of a flowing river and the birds below on the valley floor.

It sat down on the edge with my legs dangling over the abyss. The clear blue sky covering the Blue Mountains which reached as far as the eye could see. The sunlight fading. At that moment I felt so small, so serene. Everything got put into perspective right then and there. We as humans think ourselves pretty important. But in truth, we are nothing. Just a little spec in the universe. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying we have no meaning and should commit mass suicide. We should just be more aware of our place in things. I could have sat there for hours and hours. Taking in the view, the sounds, the smells. Taking in something I can’t really put my finger on, but I was a truly humbling experience and one of the greatest moments in my life.

I had to pull myself away as it was time to leave. On the ride back to the city I closed my eyes and was right back on that ledge again. I thanked Rod a million times as he dropped my off at the hostel and gave him a good tip. He deserved it.

I need to go back there some day. Alone or with a select group of people. I feel it was over too quickly, but I am very happy to have witnessed such an amazing sight. It had been a good day.

One happy quarantined time traveler

I can’t sleep on airplanes unless I’m exhausted. No matter what I’ve tried so far it has been without success. I don’t like resorting to drugs. In case something happens I don’t like being drowsy or seeing little elves flying about the cabin. I’ve tried drinking the day before, listening to sleepy music, force yawning, moonlight meditation sessions, watching videos of sloths sleeping, counting sheep which usually ends up in a craving for shoarma and drinking tea with milk. Nothing seems to work.

The flight from Hawaii to Sydney took about 11 hours. After 2 movies, half a book and 1 article I started to doze off. I slept for a whole half hour when I got woken up by the pilot’s voice shouting at me through the intercom system. “We are starting our approach to the airport. We’ll be landing in approximately 30 minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts, return your chair in an upright position and close the tray in front of you. All electronic devices and mobile phones must be turned off until you’ve have past customs. I hope you had a pleasant flight. We from Hawaiian Air hope to serve you again soon. Mahalo”.

‘Finally we are there’, I thought. But no, not quite yet. The intercom came back on again. “In accordance with quarantine rules we will spray the cabin. Please remain seated until we have completed this process. If anyone gets up before completion we will have to start all over again. After the spraying stay seated for 5 minutes before getting up. I thank you for your cooperation.”

The flight attendants opened all the luggage compartments and walked passed while holding down the button on a spray can with a disinfectant of some kind. The spray didn’t get everywhere and the can was as good as empty by the time they reached the last compartments. It was quite a farce. My flight neighbor, who was from Sydney shook her head and laughed. “It is always like this”, she said. I can appreciate that Australian government wants to protect their borders against foreign diseases which can harm crops and what not. But with half measures like this it is more of a nuisance than anything else.

 After I got off the plane it was quite a smooth ride through customs. The TV shows about the Australian border control show a very strict policy and any undeclared items are taken and the ‘smuggler’ fined. It took about 15 minutes in total and I had no trouble at all ‘smuggling’ my Dutch mayo, hagelslag and curry ketchup across the border. (For a friend, I don’t even like curry ketchup)

It was easy enough to find the shuttle bus that would take me to Jolly swagman Hostel in Kings Cross where I would stay for the coming 4 nights. Traffic in the city was crazy and it took about 1,5 hours to get there. I didn’t mind it that much. There were 2 pretty girls from New Zeeland in the shuttle that were in town for some hair dressers expo. We talked a bit. I was too tired to be very talkative so I didn’t end up with any phone numbers. But it was a promising first 2 hours in my new country.

I checked in at the hostel and got settled in my room. Since airplane food is generally disgusting and not very filling I ventured out into Kings Cross to get a bite to eat. Some very salty fish ‘n chips was the diner of choice. I went by an ATM to get some cash first. The ATM’s here spit out monopoly money. Australian money looks weird. I’m not saying the Euro doesn’t, but still. The colors are bright but not quite and the watermark is transparent. Australian money has one feature though that makes is the best money in the world. It is waterproof! Get thrown in the water by some cheeky friends, go swimming without having to leave cash on the beach, go scuba diving with some decompression beer money in your pocket. Just dry it off and you´re ready to go. Briljant.

At about eleven I turned in. Time traveling is exhausting. Let me explain. I left at 12.30 on the 7^th of June. I traveled for 11 hours. That would make it 23.30 on the 7^th of June. Instead I arrived at 19.00 on the 8^th of June. Some made up border called the International Date Line is to blame. So apparently you don´t have be travelling at the speed of light to travel though time. I guess a certain Albert was wrong, relatively speaking.

The next morning I woke at 7 in the morning, made my way down to the kitchen and had some breakfast. I started working on a new article in the common area and ended up talking to Juan. A guy from Argentina who also had arrived the day before. He turned out to be my age and a very nice guy. A nice surprise since we were surrounded by hung over people in their early twenties. We ended up discovering Sydney together on this first day.

We walked through the Botanical gardens towards the Sydney Opera House and the Harbour Bridge. He sun was out and it was very comfortable 19 to 20 degrees Celsius. I really liked the Botanical gardens. Lots of cool looking trees in a beautiful landscaped park. A bird passed over which sounded like a goat and white Ibis are found everywhere. I found that particularly cool since we go to the zoo to see its red cousin back home. It felt like summer, but it is actually autumn. Juan and I walk past palm trees as we heard the crackling of fallen leaves beneath our feet. I had some trouble understanding that since for one from northern Europe that’s quite the contradiction. But I can definitely get used to it.

The view of the Sydney Opera House and the Bridge behind it as we looked across the water is pretty impressive. Everybody always says it is, but seeing with my own eyes made me a believer. If you ever go to Sydney keep your distance from the Opera House. From afar it looks a hell of a lot better than from close by. It felt a bit like waking up next to a girl that looked really hot the night before but turned into a mistake overnight. The closer you get the more Asians you come across. Chinese, Japanese Koreans, you name it. I don´t know why. I can’t explain it and I sure as hell can´t justify it, but for some reason they get on my nerve.

We continued on around Circular Quay where all the ferries dock towards an area called The Rocks. It seems to be an older part of the city. There was a market with a wide variety of goods. Artsy stuff, odd hippies selling incense, scarfs, a man who sold books who referred us to a place where they sold books when Juan asked for a lonely planet.

Feet started hurting, I need to get some new shoes pronto, so we decides to head back to the hostel. On our way there we picked up some groceries at the local supermarket. I opted for a healthy meal. I made a killer salad with feta, cherry tomatoes, some salt drizzled with garlic infused olive oil. If you´ve never had garlic infused olive oil go out buy some and treat yourself to heaven I a bottle.

The Vivid light festival was on in Sydney. I decided to check that out. The buildings around Circular Quay, including the Opera House had light projections on it. As I walked down town I heard the sound of wings flapping. But it did not sounds as any bird. Turns out that the palm tree in front of the hostel is the home to a huge bat. A wing span of at least 1 meter, maybe more. I looked around if Christian Bale would emerge from the darkness, but I guess he had a prior engagement. I had to think of my good friend Laura, who freaked out when cute little bats passed overhead back in Curacao. Although I´d like for her to be here, I´m sure she wouldn´t have liked this big sucker at all.

I really like Sydney. I´ve been here only 1 day and I feel very comfortable here. It helps that the weather is nice and there are pretty girls everywhere. I know Holland has a good percentage of pretty women, Hawaii was not too bad either but Sydney is just ridiculous. In the past two weeks I have seen more new things and met more new people then in the past 12 months. I love it and although I miss my friends and family I feel genuinely happy. This is the life I chose to live and it is the life I love.

Square poo and a son of a beach

For some reason I end up changing seats in the airplane. This time it was not ‘meant to be’ so I could play the hero, but it became a very interesting flight none the less.

An American family was traveling to Hawaii on vacation. Mom, dad, grandma, grandpa, son and daughter. I sat next to the mom, dad and 5 year old boy. The 7 year old daughter was seated in the front of the plane next to grandma. The girl was getting restless and started walking back and forth. I offered to change seats so she could sit with her brother. The parents gladly took the offer and I ended up next to grandma.

She was a tiny lady around 70 years old and she fit the stereotypical idea of an old lady. She had make up on with the lipstick covering more than just her lips, a shadow of dark hairs on her upper lip and very talkative.

Without me really listening she laid out her entire family history. This cousin moved here, that nephew got into trouble for this. Her husband got a new hip and so on and so forth. She was a member of the Rotary club and had seen a bit of the world. She asked where I was going and as soon as old here is was eventually bound for Australia she started talking about this animal she encountered down under which produced square poo. Small square pieces of feces, but she couldn’t remember what the animal was called. Later during the flight when we were walking about to stretch our legs she went to her daughter. “Sweety, what was that animal called with the square poo?”, she asked. Her daughter flushed red with embarrassment and we all started laughing. The square poo culprit turned out to a wombat. There is a nice piece of trivia knowledge for you. When we arrived in Hawaii the father came up to me with a big smile on his face. “Thanks again for switching seats with my daughter and sorry for all the weird stories”, he said as he put a $20 dollar bill in my hands. I told him it was not necessary, but he insisted. It was a very amusing flight and was glad I had some new weird encounter to write about.

Now for the more appealing part of this part of my journey. The shuttle bus dropped me of at the Waikiki Beachside Hostel where I would stay for the night. It was 1 pm, the sun was out, 34 degrees Celsius. Boulevards lined with palm trees, beautiful people in board shorts and bikinis hauling surfboards towards the turquoise water. Large waves breaking close to shore carrying all sorts of boards with all sorts of people on it. I was definitely in Hawaii!

At the hostel the rooms were getting cleaned and I could not drop my stuff of in my room. Instead I changed into my beach attire in the staff room and hit the beach. The water temperature was about 28 degrees Celsius and I was beside myself. It felt so good being in the ocean again. I noted that it was the first time for me in the Pacific Ocean. One more ocean to check of my list. I got into my island life mode instantly. Taking everything easy with a huge smile on my face. I find it hard to describe how I felt but it was a personal confirmation that sun, sea and palm trees mean instant happiness to me.

I walked down the beach to kill some time before heading back to the hostel and I came across this awesome tree. People who know me also know I can be intrigued by trees and this particular one definitely caught my eye. It was a tall tree with the canapé stretched out like a roof. And like mangrove trees the roots grew from the branches down to become trunks of their own. It is called a Banyen tree, but I like to refer to it as ‘The Mother tree’. Absolutely beautiful. So I sat in the shade of this amazing display of nature’s ingenuity watching the surfers as they waited in packs for the right wave to ride.

Some time had passed and I was able to check in and get in my room. It was an 8 bed dorm room which I shared with 5 others. A bloke galled Greg, from the UK who lived in Townsville, Australia for the past 4 years. So that’s another address to go to when get up there. An army girl galled grace, an ex-military now ordained minister called Kevin, a cute girl from Austria called Claudia and a 45 year old hippie type American-Japanese dude called Jack. It was quite a colorful crew we had going on. The atmosphere was really laid back and we hit it off like we knew each other for a long time.

I met up with Claudia and this guy named Anthony to go out for diner. I was intruding a bit since Anthony apparently was trying to get with Claudia for a few days already, but some European company was welcome to me and I tagged along anyways. We ended up in this Japanese place called Yakitori Glad. (I was surprised with the amount of Japanese people in Hawaii. There are small like ants and like ants they are everywhere). There were only Japanese people in the restaurant, which is a good indication that the food is good. We had fun there. The food was good and the menu even better. A story about the restaurant’s history was printed on it. It actually is quite a heavy story but written down in a hilarious manner. It was written down the same way a Japanese person would speak English. The owner had to go undergo surgery to battle cancer and he survived. ‘It was miracle!’ Follow this link and see for yourself. http://yakitori-glad.com/

My pick up the next morning for the airport shuttle was at 9 am, so I decided to turn in at around midnight. The next day I said goodbye to my new friends and exchanged personal information (you’ve got to love Facebook). There were no cups in the room so I and Jack had a bowl of coffee, which was quite funny on its own. An eleven hour flight was ahead of me that would bring me to my new home for the next ‘I don’t know how many’ years.

Now it is really time for my adventure to start. I hope you liked the prologue so far. Chapter one coming to you soon.

Great balls of fire

After a while you get fed up with jet lags and hang overs. Life goes back to its normal routine and so it did the last few days I was in Portland. Nikki went back to work so Jeff and I looked after Zoey while running errands. We did not have a whole lot to do, but driving from this part of town to the other can take up quite some time.

The first week started of great with lots of exercising and ended in whisky fueled couch slouching, so it was time for another run on Tuesday morning. With Zoey in the stroller Jeff and I went for a 5 mile run to burn of some Mellow Mushroom pizza and to quiet the screams of guilt in the back of our heads. Nikki was off from work Tuesday afternoon and we decides to have lunch at this floating restaurant called Newport Bay. (To undo the run we did that morning). The weather was beautiful, 80f/27c with clear blue skies and a powerful sun throwing its rays at us with a surprising punch. It resulted in the first sunburn of the year. Which was quite painful and satisfying at the same time.

At the Newport Bay we had a great view of the city and overlooked the Columbia River. It was a beautiful site to see the white capped Mount Hood in the distance as the sun played on the water. The taste of summer was in the air and people ventured out onto the water in speedboats, kayaks and even paddle boards.

We enjoyed a delicious lunch which Jeff and Nikki would finally let me pay for. I was glad they did. I am not a rich man, but I don’t like leeching of off others.

The rest of the day we chilled at the house and had a tasty turkey burger for dinner.

The last full day of this leg of my trip had finally arrived. I thought it was quite the miracle Jeff and Nikki weren't fed up with me yet. I’m pretty sure they are glad to have some more privacy now and not feel obligated to entertain the Dutchie on the couch. I myself grew a bit restless and was getting ready to continue my journey.

But not before I visited the Oregon Zoo. Not a very large zoo but pretty cool one none the less. They had black bears, polar bears, tigers and lions, a very cute baby elephant named Lilly and cougars (I mean the big cats, not the ones my twin brother is familiar with). One horny giraffe that tried to mount a female. She was quite reluctant and although we didn’t waited for x-rated giraffe interaction, the one who persists will prevail. Orangutans, gibbons and small monkeys I don’t know the name to but can be found in zoos around the globe. The timing for visiting the zoo was a bit off since the park was filled with small children on school outings. I have definitely taken a liking to kids over the past few years, but a horde of screaming little brats is still too much. It resulted in us avoiding indoor enclosures where the screams of said brats would bounce of the walls and reach decibel levels unheard off. Which is quite a weird expression since the noise was probably loud enough to carry a 100 miles in any direction.

After about 2 hours our eardrums could take no more and we used Zoey’s milk break as a good excuse to get out of there.

Now we get to the part where I get to explain the title of this article. There is this weird (keep Portland weird) restaurant called Salvador Molly’s. The have food from all over the world and they serve it in a colorful restaurant with a laid back atmosphere. I had the Jambalaya. A rice dish from Louisiana with chicken and shrimp in a spicy creole sauce. It was delicious. It is a well-known restaurant in Portland and they are famous for their Balls of Fire challenge. The challenge consists out of eating 5 Habanero (Madame Jeneatte) balls in a habanero sauce. I did not go for the challenge since I’m very fond of my taste buds. But I did try one ball of fire. These things live up to their name. I actually start sweating all over again while writing this. The flavor is pretty good for the first 20 seconds after that it just like a fire a blaze which keeps building up and building up. It a good 20 minutes, some dry rice, 2 glasses of water, some corn bread, a corona and multiple ice cubes before I felt anything close to normal again. That little sucker knocked the wind right out of me and unfortunately I was unable to finish my Jambalaya. I still have trouble believing someone could five of these including all the sauce to complete the challenge and live to tell the tale. Jeff warned that if it’s hot going in it will be the same coming out. Luckily I didn’t have to worry about that yet.

Before we called it a night (everyone had to get up early, Jeff and Nikki to work and I to catch my flight), we visited Ben and Kate. Jeff’s stepbrother and his wife. The live in a very cool house on stilts on a steep hill. They are remodeling and the downstairs still only consisted of wooden framework waiting for some sheetrock to turn it into rooms and a livable area. They did finish the deck out back which looked great. Right in between the canapé. It was close to a road but the branches and leaves muffled the sound and gave it a very private ‘cabin in the woods’ feel.

The next day we all got up early and I got unpleasantly reminded of the Ball of Fire I had the day prior. The melody of the song ‘Girl on fire’ by Alicia Keys started playing in my head. Only the lyrics had changed slightly. I’m sure everyone is able to fill in the blanks.

Time to leave. We said our goodbyes, Jeff went to work and Nikki dropped me off at the airport on the way to her work. Now it was only a 5,5 hour flight between me and Hawaii.

It has been a great 9 days with the Barkers. It was everything I hoped it would be and more. I missed hanging with my buddies from curacao and loved meeting their daughter. Also Jeff´s impression of me never gets old. I got to know Portland and it is definitely on my ‘to go back to’-list. Very mellow, very green, very cool. I will be back to help keep Portland weird.

A magic fairytale land

Once upon a time and about a 2 hour drive south of Portland lies a town called as a place out of a fairytale, Cottage Grove. A princess called Nikki grew up there and it is the place here parents still reside. Her knight in shining armor, Jeff, went to college in the neighboring town. For some reason that town didn’t sound all that magical. It sounded more like an overweight guy with grease stains on his shirt and a trucker cap. The name: Eugene.

On Saturday we set out on a trip to this enchanted land and a magical trip it turned out to be. Just the journey there was great. The road led through a valley with the coastal mountain range in the distance on the right and the Cascades on the left. Divided by rolling hills covered in lush green forests and endless farmlands. Just take the roads and farmhouses out. Add some Tatanka and Kevin Costner and it was a scene out of Dances with wolves. Nothing I’ve ever seen before save for on television. It was quite a sight. Halfway down we were greeted by the 3 sisters. 3 white capped mountains all about 3000 meters high towering over the Cascades mountain range which they belong to. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cascade_Range)

Further down vineyards lined the mountainside and we passed an amusement park called ‘The enchanted forest’. I then knew we were getting closer and closer.

First we stopped in Eugene to check in at the hotel Jeff and Nikki had arranged. We took a short stroll through the campus where Jeff fed his brain for several years and had a drink at the bar where he lost a lot of that food for thought.

Little Zoey was with us to and it was time to head to Cottage Grove where grandma and pa were waiting eagerly to babysit their granddaughter as we were getting our party on later that night.

Nikki’s parents, called Steve and Candace, live in a beautiful large white house. A neatly maintained garden at the front and about 7 acres of forest at the back of the house is what they called home. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting then just briefly during Jeff and Nikki’s wedding in Curacao 2 years ago. They made me feel right at home. We chatted a bit as Candace was preparing a delicious meal. Mashed potatoes with sweet green peas and oven roasted chicken. She was being very modest about it, but credit is given where credit is due. It was delicious.

After Nikki made sure Candace and Steve were ok with Zoey and smothering her little girl with kisses (this was only the second night she left her daughter) we left for the stained shirt, trucker cap wearing fat guy town Eugene.

Eugene is actually quite a pretty town. A lot of green patched laced in between the buildings. We met up one of Nikki’s childhood friends named Jaala and went to a bar called Rennie’s. One of Jeff’s friends worked there and he hooked us up with some glasses filled to the rim with the liquor of choice, free of charge. My drink of the evening would be a beautiful 10 year old Bushmills Irish whisky on the rocks. A drink they carried in every bar we went to, so it is safe to say I was very pleased. The whisky definitely added to the enchantment of this already magical trip.

We decided to swing by Taylor’s. The bar where Jeff used to work as a bouncer during his college years. There was a line out front and I feared we had to wait like everybody else. As patient as I am, I wasn’t looking forward to that. And then with another touch of fairytale magic Jeff noticed a friend working the door and we could skip the line and enter the bar like true VIP’s. After a few more drinks surrounded by drunk young girls and guys grinding as if their lives depended on it we decided to head back to the hotel. But no night out is complete without a midnight snack. My midnight snacks over the past years usually consists out of pita with shoarma, a Kapsalon or a frikandel special (Dutch snacks rule). I’ve seen my fair share of greasy, unhealthy but at that moment most awesome midnight snacks. But nothing could have prepared me for what Jaala had ordered for me. We got the food at a place called Burrito boy and I got the wet burrito.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when we returned to the hotel room and in opened the Styrofoam box. A burrito filled with rice, beans and steak covered with sauce and cheese the size of my head! (http://files.campus.edublogs.org/blogs.uoregon.edu/dist/e/64/files/2012/07/P1010332-29evfkd.jpg). It was mind boggling. I ate maybe one third of Burrito boy’s evil offspring and people who know me also know I rarely leave food on my plate. So I decided the best thing to do would be lying on my bed and pass out.

The next morning I didn’t feel all that magical or enchanted. Still groggy and hung over we made our way back to Cottage Grove were Candace was working her magic on an extensive brunch. Luckily it still took some time to prepare it all since solid food didn’t seem appealing to me at all.

A hot shower and a tall glass of milk brought me back to the land of the living and it was time to chow down on this amazing meal. Egg casserole, strips of bacon, hash browns, blackberry pie, biscuits, bread and butter, fruit salad, veggie sausages, jam and fresh orange juice. The one tastier then the next. It was a meal to remember. It didn’t take long for the food coma to kick in. So I found a bed and took a nice long nap while Nikki had a reunion with some friends down town.

I actually found it hard to say goodbye as we packed our things for the journey back. That brings me to probably the most magical part of this little road trip. Steve and Candace are such loving, caring people. They opened not just their house to me but also their hearts. The way they interact with each other and how they are so down to earth is inspiring. Even though we met twice I feel like I could knock on their door any time and feel welcome.

It was great weekend with lots of laughs, beautiful views and people to match.

And they lived happily ever after.

The end

from jet lag to hangover

Almost immediately after arriving I was introduced to the American take on food. Jeff and Nikki took me to a pub close by their house where we had a bite to eat and a beer to celebrate my arrival. I ordered a hamburger. Although I was starving (airplane food doesn’t have to reputation of being a satisfying meal) I was unable to finish this huge greasy burger. It tasted great but when they go big, they go big. It was nice to see that the on the walls of this fine establishment Dutch street signs could be found. The sight of the familiar blue signs reading pottenbakkersteeg and Van leeuwenstraat made me feel right at home. It was about 9.30 pm. I was already awake for more than 24 hours and was exhausted. J&N took me to their apartment and introduced me to a huge couch I would call bed for the coming 9 days.

As a good guest is supposed to I came bearing gifts for my hosts. I introduced J&N to one the Dutch most genius culinary inventions: the stroopwafel. Obviously they loved them, who wouldn’t. I also brought a gift for their beautiful 3 month old daughter Zoey. It was a stuffed animal of Dikkie Dik. A bright orange cat with a smile on its face and very popular among Dutch children. The name did require some explaining. Nikki decided to name it Kat after my red cat I had in Curacao. I’m sure this was also to avoid explain to others why Zoey was playing with her Dikkie Dik. After this I went straight to bed in an attempt to battle the jetlag that was surely coming. Luckily J&N being young parents went to bed quite early too, so I didn’t feel burdened for forcing them upstairs so the Dutchie could take a nap.

The next morning I felt pretty good. I even accompanied Jeff for a morning run. We did about a 5 mile run through a beautiful wooded, but also hilled area of Portland. We went all the way up to the highest point of the city called Council Crest. It was the place where the chiefs of the Native American tribes would gather to talk about what to do about this Kevin Kostner fellow who kept chasing off this lone wolf. (Just on a side note, only the tribes in the northwest of America had totem poles. Just so you know whenever you’re playing trivial pursuit). Unfortunately it was overcast and quite misty which prevented us from having an awesome view of the Portland metropolitan area. But I was sure there would be more opportunities for great views.

During the rest of the day we had to run some errands and went out for dinner at a place called Fire in the mountain, famous for their spicy chicken wings. We met up with Nick, one of Jeff’s friends which I’d met in Curacao 2 years prior. The wings were great but I wasn’t quite so sure about the deep fried pickle (pickles should be eaten cold at all times), but he deep fried Twinky was pretty good. I though it to be a very disturbing bordering to genius snack. The jetlag was hitting me hard and we decides to call it a day and chill at the house for the rest of the evening. Nikki had got me a bottle of Jameson Irish whisky, bless her heart, and I enjoyed a nice glass of liquid gold. I had to use a wine glass for it, so the next day I got some tumblers to do the drink more justice.

Wednesday morning I thought I got up at 7 am, since my phone was still on Chicago time it turned out to be 5 am. There is that jetlag again. The run the day before felt really good and I thought it would be a good idea to continue down this path. Healthy Jelle all the way, since I also quit smoking. Jeff took me to the MAC. Not to get a nice juicey quarter pounder with cheese (also known as a royal with cheese because of the metric system), but to go and work out.

The MAC stands for Multnoma Athletic Centre. It is an enormous almost gigantic facility where you can pretty much do anything that has to with sports and fitness. The top few floors overlook the Portland Timbers soccer stadium. There are several fitness areas, a few basketball courts, racquetball (squash) fields, tennis courts, Pilates classes, an indoor climbing wall, 2 Olympic size swimming pools, stretching rooms and much much more. I was glad I had Jeff with or would have gotten lost in there for sure. I’m pretty sure I saw the remains of an old tennis player who lost his map and failed to find his way back out. After shooting some basketball and lifting some weights I wen t for a swim. It had been since curacao since I last was in the water and it felt good. It definitely had me craving for more in water activities and longing for turquoise waters to submerge myself in.

That night Jeff made some killer ribs. Here is a quick guide in how to go about making and eating killer ribs

Step 1: remove the membrane from he ribs and apply a dry rub of herbs and spices.

Step 2: fire up the bbq and grill on both side for about 6 to 8 minutes.

Step 3: cover in bbq sauce and put them in the oven for about 2 hours

Step 4: for the last 30 minutes put the oven on broil (just the top heater) and apply more bbq sauce so it can caramelize.

Step 5: make sure that before you start eating you have absolutely nothing else to so that evening since eating those ribs pretty much incapacitate you for the remainder of the day.

Step 6: stuff you face with ribs and mashed potatoes until incapacitated.

Enjoy!

Thursday morning Jeff and I wen for a hike in the Columbia River gorge. We went to check out Multnoma Falls first. A very impressive 150 mtr high waterfall. The water came down a tall rock face in which you could see all the layers that build up over time. At the bottom the water smashed down in a small pool with a really big tree trunk that had washed down many years ago from the looks of it.

We back tracked a little bit to the trail head of the trail that would lead us to Angel’s rest. A natural look out point elevated about 600 mtr above the river. It was only a 2,5 mile hike, but the trail was quite steep. Since Jeff and I kept a good pace it turned out to be quite a work out. At the top we were greeted by chipmunks and a stunning view of the Columbia River gorge. On the other side of the river you could see the state Washington which greeted us with steep rock faces in between rolling hills. It was quite the sight. It was raining on and off so we didn't linger at the top very long and made our way down to the car and returned home.

It was Thursday, but not just any Thursday. It was Last Thursday! Every last Thursday of the month there is a street fair called Last Thursday. A long street, Alberta, gets closed off and people come out to party and be weird. Which is very fitting, since the unofficial motto of Portland is, keep Portland weird.                                                                                                                                

Nikki stayed at home with Zoey and Jeff and I met up with some more people near Alberta. We visited the house of John and Maliya (if not spelled correctly please forgive me). I’ve had met them on Curacao too and it was nice to see them again.

In a group of about 12 people we head to where the party was. As soon as we arrived, Me, Jeff and Nick lost everybody else. The first weird thing we came across was a jousting competition. 21^st century knights on little children’s bikes armed with brooms covered with pillows were charging at each other in the pursuit of eternal glory and the hand of any drunk fair maiden that was willing to go home with them.

 I don’t quite remember exactly what happened that evening but I do remember this:

A PBR is a poor man’s beer and absolutely the nastiest beer I’ve ever had. So whenever you come across someone who offers you a PBR, stop what you’re doing and run. I also remember that tequila shots infused with jalapeño are really tasty but should be consumed with moderation.

The best thing of the whole evening was probably the moment I ordered a drink at the bar called The Station. I noticed a bottle of Bushmills Irish whisky half way up a wall filled with all sorts of liquor. To my (Dutch) standards it had about 2 to 3 glasses in there still. I ordered a Bushmills with ice and the bartender apologized that there was barely enough left in the bottle for just one drink! I was amazed. Not just the food is big here, but also the drinks. I felt like I was in heaven and heaven was cheap too. That definitely appealed to my Dutch nature, getting trice the drink for half the money. Since ‘R’body in the club was getting tipsy’ we took a cab back to the house and called it a day.

The next morning the jet lag was gone only to be replaced by a gnarly hang over. Nikki went back to work that day so Jeff and I looked after little Zoey. It was a lot of fun playing with her. She is such a good baby, hardly ever cries and makes funny noises and smiles a lot. Luckily she liked that weird Dutch guy hovering over her and even started laughing when I spoke Dutch to her. So wise for her age, knowing that Dutch is a pretty silly language.

Dinner plans turned out to be a bbq at Jeff his father’s house. A big house with a huge garden. It came with a very friendly dog called Chuck. Jeff’s stepbrother Ben and his wife Kate would look after Zoey as we went out. It was Nikki’s first night out away from her baby and she found it hard to let her go. We would stay the night at Jeff’s dad’s house so mommy and daughter would be reunited shortly after party time.

J&N and some friends took me to 21^st street. An area with a lot of bars and were people would go to have a good time. We went to a bar called The Silver Dollar. It looked like a sports bar and above the bar and along the wall nearly 30 big screen TVs were put up. For some reason the found it necessary to have so many TV screens although they only showed 4 different channels. We chilled outside watching weirdos pass by as we chatted and sipped our drinks. Since I didn't write down much of what happened that night in my journal this paragraph won’t be that long. Simply because I can’t remember a lot save for the familiar hang over the next morning while waking up the most comfortable bed I might have ever been in and meeting Jeff’s dad and his step mom Julie who had returned that night from a trip to Hawaii.

It was a very good first week where, while exercising and being touristy, I seamlessly turned a jet lag into a hangover. Another adventure was already knocking at my door and it sounded magical. But that is different story.

Sent by God

Monday the 27^th of May I left The Netherlands to go on a new adventure. I never would have thought that adventure would start so soon. I’ll explain later.

My Mom, Dad and Brother accompanied me to the airport to see me off. It was nice to have them around just before I left. My brother, Jeroen, was joking that maybe the tv-show ‘Hello/Goodbye’ would come by and wanting to interview us for their show. Right as I was hugging them and said goodbye before I went through customs two girls approached us. “Hello, we are from the tv show Hello/Goodbye and where wondering if you would like to appear in front of our camera”.

Of course we all started laughing. What a weird coincidence. Unfortunately I didn’t have enough time since I had to be at the gate half an hour later. Too bad actually, it would have been fun to have my tv debut right before I left.

 Alright let’s get to the ‘sent by god’ part. There are a lot of variables that come into play here. It started when I checked my luggage and got my boarding pass. For some reason (I like to believe it was my irresistible smile) the girl upgraded me to economy plus, which meant more leg room. It also meant I was seated somewhere that wasn’t my original place to sit.

When I got on the plane, I saw this small lady standing near my seat. I already thought ‘she is going to ask if I want to trade places’. And she did. She wanted to sit next to her husband, who had an aisle seat a few rows to the front. I didn’t mind and we traded places. The lady belonged to quite a big group of Philippinos who came back from a pilgrimage in Europe. I talked with a few more of them during the flight.

When we were in between Iceland and Greenland, also know as the middle of nowhere, it happened. A small Latino lady started freaking out in the aisle. “oh lord Jesus, oh dear Jesus. Oh the blood of Christ, dear Lord help him”, she was shouting. I looked back and two seats behind me a gentleman was having a seizure of some kind. Shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolled away in his eye sockets. His about 8 year son and about 3 year old daughter next to him (the Latino lady was their nanny).

I had the feeling the staff had no idea what to do, so I got up to help. There was an American lady and a Dutch police officer that got up to help as well. The gentleman, Brent, stopped breathing. We got him out of his chair and on the floor. We rolled him on his back and I instructed the lady to do chin lift to open his airways. That seems to be enough to get him breathing again. We put him in the recovery position, but he was still shaking, so it took some effort to make sure he stayed in that position. Luckily he started to come back to his senses. Still very confused he started to push away the people around him. His wife, who had to work and was seated in business class, was here now too. After he calmed down a bit we moved him to business class where he could lay down. He was still pretty confused, but his wife said this happened before. He apparently forgot to take his medication.

It was good for him to be moved out of the economy class, not just so he could lay down, but also to be free of all those prying eyes of other passengers. I went back to check on the little boy, who was really calm and a real trooper during the whole ordeal. That pleasantly surprised me. The nanny had calmed down and looked after the little girl.

Stewardesses came by to thank me for my help. “Write down your name, United Airlines will thank you for your help”, one of them said. The nanny and wife were also very grateful. I was just happy the guy lived and everyone was ok.

They kept asking me if I was a doctor or something. It was a surprise to them I was just a scuba instructor with some EFR (EHBO) skills.

I dind’t have to pay for anything the rest of the flight. They gave me free whisky and extra peanuts. Even random passengers came over to tell me I did such a good job. Even though I was just glad to be of any assistance I can’t deny my ego didn’t suffer ;-).

I really am glad that I still have the ability to stay cool in a stressful situation and am able to help people in need. So if you feel inspired, go take a EFR (ehbo) class. The things you can do with those skills are most valuable.

And now you might think, what has God to do with this all. Well, according to me absolutely nothing. Since I believe God is as valid as the Easter bunny. It is people who help people, but the entire Philippino pilgrimage group begged to differ. It was God’s will I got upgraded to economy plus, it was God’s will I changed seats so I sat closer to that guy. I found that really amusing. But for the pilgrims their pilgrimage continued even on the plane ride home.

If my new adventure starts out like this I’m in for a hell of ride!

At least that’s what I thought then. Cause waiting in the Chicago airport (it is so big it has an indoor train to take you different departure halls) for 4 hours followed by 4,5 hour flight was really incredibly boring.

By the time I arrived I Portland, Oregon I had been travelling for almost 18 hours. My good friends Jeff and Nikki Barker were waiting for me with their 3 month old daughter Zoey to pick me up. It was good to see them again after I left curacao over a year ago. We had some food and drinks at a local bar before they showed their home and the huge couch I would call bed for the coming 9 days.

More stories will follow soon. It is 27c/80f here. So time to go outside and have another adventure.