So it's the last day of the conference and there are quite a few tired and hung over people coming into the plenary session. The party didn't finish till 1 am. I got back about midnight but still woke up at 4 am as usual, and couldn't go back to sleep. My room mate Anoma is leaving this morning so she is up at 4 am too. I'm going to miss her - she is such a sweet person.
I have been trying all week to meet Simon More from the University College Dublin and Margaret Good from the Department of Agriculture in Dublin. They have both published a lot of papers in TB research and I've arranged to go to Dublin at the end of next week, so I need to meet them today or it will be too late. Finally I spot Margaret coming down the stairs to morning tea and I introduce myself. She is a nice lady in her 60s and I feel very comfortable with her. She phones Simon and he comes over too. Simon is a lovely gentle, kind, soft spoken man and I like him immediately. He's Australian but you would never know! These are some more of my heroes in the world of TB research and I'm so excited to be finally meeting them.
I leave the conference a little bit early because I want to get some washing done. I feel a strange tinge of sadness handing in my ID badge and heading out the front door. This place and these people have been my life for the past five days and now it's over. I will definitely have to do my best to get to the next ISVEE conference in Yucatan, Mexico in 2015.
On the way back I decide to visit the museum that I ride past every day on my way to the conference centre. How much is the entry? Ask the girl behind the counter. Nine euros. Well that's a little expensive, but I'm here now and I won't get another opportunity. So I pay the money and she gives me a receipt. At the bottom of the stairs I'm stopped by a security guard. He is trying to tell me something in Dutch. Sorry, Engels! English? OK, you have no clip. No clip? What clip? He points to the small metal lapel badge that other guests have. I head back to the counter and the girl says sorry and hands me a clip. I put it on and then go back to the stairs. The security guard stops me again. Sorry, no bags. You have to put them in the locker. OK, where are the lockers? Through that door. I can't seem to get the latch to lock until I realise that you have to put a one euro coin in the inside of the latch, and THEN it will lock. Third time lucky? The poor security guard has to stop me again. Sorry, you can't carry your cardigan over your arm like that. You must wear it, or put it in the locker. By this stage I'm thinking, this has got to be Candid Camera. This museum better be worth it! Slightly exasperated, I ask why and he shrugs... Just the rules eh?
Decardiganed, I can finally go up the stairs. It is an art museum and I'm not sure it was worth all that bother. There are three levels, each featuring a different artist. At the end there is a big domed turret room with some sort of large white stone sculpture in the middle and the walls painted black with concentric white circles going all the way up to a point in the centre of the ceiling. Looking up has a weird effect on me and I start to feel a bit tearful. Maybe it was the art but it was more likely the tiredness, sadness at the conference ending and my frustrating exchanges with the security guard.
There is a room with some quite ordinary looking furniture by some famous Dutch furniture designer, apparently quite a leader in his field. I find it all a bit ho hum... perhaps I just don't have an eye for art. After all that, I'm only in the museum for less than ten minutes. I can think of better ways of spending a euro a minute.
Out of curiosity I drop in to the supermarket near the cycle bridge. I'm interested to see what Dutch groceries look like. It's far more interesting than the museum and costs me far less too. There is a bewildering assortment of ready prepared vegetables and lovely fresh looking meals. A whole wall of dairy produce, including sliced Swiss cheese and lots of other products I don't have a hope of identifying. I check out the biscuits aisle, and find a packet of crispy almond and chocolate fingers. They look yummy and I know the kids would like them, so pick some up. They are only 95 cents. I also get a punnet of lovely fresh big blueberries that will do me for afternoon tea. I don't need to tell the checkout girl that I don't speak Dutch; how hard can it be? I pay her the money, smile and say "Tank u". I just completed my first transaction in Dutch and I'm rather proud of myself.
Some Dutch is very easy to decipher, at least on signs, and I already know place names and how to count to ten, and a few words. The checkout girl had a badge that read, "Kan ik u helpen?" and it wasn't too hard to figure out what that meant. "Tank u wel" is "Thank you very much". The most interesting one was on the train platform. "Verboden over te lopen". I figured that meant "Forbidden to leap over"!
Time to do some laundry. I put my clothes in a pillowcase and start walking in the direction of town. Apparently there is a laundromat on the other side of the town square. I walk past tall brick buildings with window boxes and people sitting outside drinking coffee. It's all very charming, but as I get further north there are a few seedy shops and businesses... I have heard how bad it is in Amsterdam and this just shows that even in pretty little Maastricht there is a shady side to town, and you don't have to go far to find it. I'm looking for the town square, which is where I've heard Andre Rieu has his concerts. The laundromat is on the other side. When I get there however, I'm shocked. There are trucks packing away scaffolding and planks and there has obviously been a giant party because I have never in my life seen so much litter, and such a filthy mess of bottles, paper bags, old chips and everything else you could think of. Everything stinks of old fish and garbage, but people are walking through the square as if this is the most natural scene in the world. It seems a harsh contrast with the historic buildings and lovely trees. I can't believe Dutch people are capable of being this messy - everywhere else I've seen has been so tidy and well kept. It was probably a student event as it's the first week back from summer vacation for Maastricht University. It certainly wasn't an Andre Rieu concert since the only things that would be thrown during one of those would be old ladies' knickers :-)
Arriving at the laundromat I am disappointed to find it closed, and I have walked all this way for nothing with my pillowcase, feeling like a homeless person and getting a few funny looks along the way! I should be able to laver les vetements en Paris, bien sur! Demain après-midi, je vais a Paris. But for now I am going to go back to Stayokay and read a book and have an early night.
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