So the train I need to take is to den Haag, the Hague, stopping at De Vink. I meet a nice Australian lady at the underground platform. Great to hear an antipodean accent for a change. I get on the train and it's a challenge with my big bag. Someone remind me not to pack so much next time. I feel quite excited when the train starts to move and it's faster and quieter than I expected. I'm actually doing it - taking an intercity train in Holland by myself! Now I just have to count four stops and get out on the fifth. When we come out of the sub tunnel everything is so green and I can see small dairy herds, red brick farmhouses and barns and trees, acres and acres of crops, everything from asparagus to delphiniums and sugar cane. I can see where the tulip beds are, and how spectacular they must look in the spring. I'm intrigued by several collections of tiny little garden plots, most with greenhouses but all with a profusion of vegetables and flower beds, just the sort of garden I love. Some of these collections of plots also have a tiny house for each plot, maybe 20 square meters and there are people outside sitting at picnic tables. It takes me a while to figure out that these must be city allotments, for apartment dwellers to grow their own veges. such a great idea. If I lived here, I would be doing that for sure. They looked like such cosy and productive communities.The train only stops once, at Leiden, and I'm looking out for three more stops but suddenly we are at the end of the line, at Den Haag. Oops, Where is De Vink and how did I miss it? And what do I do now? I try out my only Dutch phrase on a nice motherly looking lady. "Sprechen u Engels?" What a relief; she does. I want to get to De Vink, but she tells me the ticket machine doesn't take MasterCard or Visa. So I have to go and get cash out and go buy a ticket from the booth. I buy a return ticket because I don't trust my navigational skills, but I know I could get back to Schiphol from here. Two minutes later I'm on the right train. This time De Vink station comes up and I get off. What now? I have to cart both of my bags, one 20kg, down a big flight of stairs to the street level. I have printed directions to the chapel from google maps but I still can't figure out which way to go. A kind lady jogger comes past and tells me which way to go. My bags are heavy, even with the wheels, but I am so determined to get to church. Looks like it is just over a kilometer away. Holland is in the middle of a heat wave; highest temperatures for 24 years, apparently. It's around 30 degrees; I'm sweating and it's not even 10am yet. Gee this place is pretty. Dutch people seem to keep their houses and gardens so neat and tidy and there are colorful pots of flowers everywhere. I go past some Dutch ducks sleeping in long grass. I envy them... They look cool in the shade. I go over a canal bridge and the canal is so pretty, lined with trees and with boats going up and down. On the other side of the bridge I'm suddenly confused again by my printed directions. The lady jogger said turn right into a cycle only street. But for some reason I feel I should go straight ahead! So I go about 10 meters and stop, tired and lost. I notice an Asian looking man parking his car on the side of the road. He gets out and comes towards me. "are you lost?" in English. oh yes, very. He tries to read my directions but he can't make sense of them either and then he asks where I'm going. I tell him "the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints" and he brightens and offers to take me there. Should I go with him? Times like this you don't have time to pray but I feel he can be trusted, and I do something I've never done before, get into a car with a stranger. But he is so kind and helpful and takes me right outside the chapel door. And even better, I arrive at 9.58 am with two minutes to spare before the meeting starts, just enough time to get a drink; I am so dehydrated from the long walk. What a kind man - he didn't have to stop, and in fact it would have been more convenient not to, as he had to get to Amsterdam by 11.
It's just wonderful to be at church. I sit next to a lovely lady who has a PhD in immunology. At last, someone who I don't have to explain what an epidemiologist does! She teaches biology and ecology at an international college and she's really interested when I tell her about NZ's possum problem and about our flightless birds. I give her my email address as she's asked if she can contact me to find out more for her students. Her name is Nina and she has seven children! I'm very impressed by the quality and depth of these members, and their warmth and sincerity. After church I hope that someone will offer me a ride to the train station. I meet a man from Gloucester who is working here on the temple redecorating. He turns out to be Davina Aitchison's father! Such a small world! Nobody has offered me a lift so I go out to the street and start figuring out which way to walk, but because I came the last bit in a car I don't know how to get back. There is a young mum in the car park putting her children in the car so I ask her for directions, and because she isn't sure she offers to take me using her GPS. Again, so grateful. And I get to enjoy the air conditioning even if only for five minutes.
Back at the train station I lug my bags back up the steep stairs to the platform. I know exactly which train to catch, and I get back to den Haag with no problems, and on back to Schiphol on the other train. I must be getting good at this navigating trains thing. Back at the airport station I buy myself a ticket to Maastricht and find out which platform to wait at.The trip takes three trains, so two changes, and I manage that with the help of another very kind man who even carries one of my bags down from the platform. I don't know how he knew I was going to Maastricht but he knew exactly where to point me to. Another good person as promised.
In Maastricht finally. I am so tired. But there is a taxi and I have cash left over from my train ticket at den Haag; a great thing as he doesn't take cards. The backpackers is ok... Maybe that's why it's called Stayokay. I mean it's not called Stayexcellent or Stayfantastic, and it certainly isn't either of those. The only thing not okay about it is the stifling heat. I don't think they have heard of air conditioners in Holland. Hope I can sleep tonight.
I have hired a bike for the week and it's a thing of beauty, well if it had a mother she would have thought so. A great big tall orange beast with huge diameter wheels and as sturdy as a camel. You ride along sitting upright on it. Everyone rides bikes here as it's soooooo flat and they have specially designated bike roads so you almost never have to ride on the side of the road. Nobody wears helmets. It's a very relaxed way to travel and these amazing bikes take next to no effort to ride. Which is a good thing because I have absolutely no energy left. I ride over the river bridge and to the conference centre, but I've just missed registrations so will have to do that in the morning. funnily enough, I must have looked like a local riding my bike because I saw a group of conference delegates waiting at a bus stop, and one of them said, "excusez-moi, parlez vous anglais?" I had to smile, and said "yes, I'm from NewZealand!" he asked me which way town was so I told him, just like a local!
Ok time to call it quits for the night. Really hope I can sleep cos I am so sleep deprived. Starting to rethink this backpacker thing - think I may be too old for sharing a room with twenty-somethings. Maybe I should not have tried to economise but should have booked into a hotel room by myself. Oh well, good learning for next time. I'm having a good time so far and it's so good to find out I'm capable of this. Good night.
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