How the Netherlands is slowing me down

Not in a good way, though. Not like, stop and smell the flowers slowing down. Not like, simplify your life slowing down. No. Not even like, I could be doing great things but the Netherlands is holding me back! (Although it is, and I might write about that some other time.) No, it's more of a Borg thing: We drive slow. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.

<Sigh> Resistance is futile.

So today I received another fucking speeding ticket in the mail. My crime this time? 4 km/h over the speed limit. 4. For which I am being fined 33 euros. Seriously. And if I don't pay, it will go up, first to 46 euros, and then to 85 euros. I don't know what happens after that and I don't intend to find out. I will pay my ticket. And complain about it.

I understand that the speed limit is 50 km/h. Really. I might not agree with it, but it has registered. It's just this zero tolerance thing keeps biting me in the ass. In Canada, my general policy is not to exceed 20 km/h over the posted speed limit. I have, on occasion, exceeded this. Yet never in my 18 year driving career have I gotten a speeding ticket there. Granted, this may well have to do with the failure/banishment of photo-radar and the vast area that traffic cops have to police, but the fact remains. 18 years, relentlessly speeding, 0 speeding tickets.

Fast-forward to the Netherlands. Soon after getting my new car, I drove some friends to the airport. Two weeks later, I received a fine in the mail. 56 euros for 8 km/h over the 100km/h limit. That's what you get for doing someone a favour here. <Sigh> To be honest, I was surprised I was only going 8 over.

Then in the summer I drove with some friends to Castlefest. I thought I got 'flashed', but weeks passed with no fine in the mail; I thought I was home free! Then, almost 2 months later I come home one day to find the fine at the door. 46 euros for 6 over. <Sigh> You will be assimilated.

This time, I was driving with my parents to Delft to get a souvenir. 33 euros for 4 over.

You can see how the Borg Netherlands is winning, though. I am assimilating slowing down. The Netherlands is financially forcing me into the Dutch mold: compliant drivers who promptly pay their fines. Resistance is futile.

Ultimately, what is the real lesson to be learned here?
a. Assimilate! Resistance is futile!
b. Know where all the cameras are. This is an expensive learning process, but will allow for continued speeding.
c. Stop driving other people. Apparently fines only result when carrying passengers.
d. Move to Germany. Glorious land of the unlimited autobahn. Avoid the Borg Netherlands at all costs!

Skating, Snow, Canada: a recap

Well. Sarnia turned out to be no problem at all because we basically didn't leave the house the whole time we were there. We arrived at my mom's at about 5pm on Christmas Eve. My brother pulled up behind me just minutes later, and with him came nightfall and snow. We were both RIGHT on time, in my view, especially as I'd never been to the house before and really didn't want to have to look for it in the dark. It snowed all that night. We had a white Christmas. YAY! It continued to snow all Christmas day. It stopped for a brief window of time on Boxing Day, which my brother wisely used to make his escape back to Toronto, before picking up again. So we did what anyone should do in such situations: we stayed inside for the most part, making good use of the Netflix streaming, and braving the elements only for such critical tasks as shovelling a path in the back yard for the dog and taking a walk down to the lake or around the block to see the Christmas lights. At some point the driveway also got cleared and snowmen were attempted. (Failed, sadly. The snow wasn't consistently of the good packing variety; I think it accumulated in layers that made it impossible to roll a snowman body but still enabled small amounts to be formed into snowballs.)

We made our own escape on Friday, the 28th. Luckily the snow had stopped by then and the roads were clear. The next storm was set to hit on the 29th. And it did. We had another get-together planned for that day at noon and woke up to far more snow than had been forecast. Snow that continued to fall, heavily, all morning. I'm not used to driving in the snow anymore. It was really stressful. Just at the on-ramp to the highway I saw a car off in the ditch and his skidmarks leading there. I almost turned around partway when the snow-covered highway intimidated me. The cars by the concrete dividers that were completely spun around to face into traffic certainly didn't help my confidence. But I didn't turn back. I trudged on and we made it to the restaurant right on time. By the time our lunch was finished and we headed back, the snow had slowed and the roads had been cleared, for the most part. Thankfully. I wasn't looking forward to driving it a second time.

Back in the GTA, we made good use of the fallen snow and took The Little Ninja tobogganing. My dad's ancient giant toboggan, though huge on memories, was nowhere near as good at getting you down the hill and halfway across the field as the new plastic ones we borrowed from a neighbour. The plastic ones had a definite weight advantage - as in, you could get the damned things up the hill while also carrying a toddler who couldn't walk in the deep snow because his legs are too short and he'd just fall over. Which was hilarious for us, but not so much for him. Still. Snow fun? Check.

New Year's Eve, on the other hand, sucked. In fact, it was so bad, it inspired a resolution: I won't be pressured into anything this year. Like staying up until midnight just because it's New Year's Eve. The new year will come whether I watch the shitty shows from New York and Niagara (I couldn't even make myself flip to the Toronto one it was so horrible) or am fast asleep in my bed.

We tried to go skating on New Year's Day. We checked the opening hours, got all dressed up for the cold, propped The Little Ninja into a borrowed wagon and trudged over to the local outdoor skating rink. It was closed. For New Year's Day. Booo. We drove over the next day. I got to try out my new blades and, much as predicted, The Little Ninja stood on the ice for about 4 seconds before demanding that the skates be removed. It was a good start, though, right?

That was about it, really. We saw some people, didn't get to see some people. Went shopping and got some stuff (like the mini eggs I'm stuffing my face with while I write this) and everything fit into our bags, which is always a plus. I guess this trip was pretty successful, all in all. Yay!

Canada hates me

Canada hates me. After the fiasco two years ago, I should have had some idea.

On that fateful trip, at 8 months pregnant and after an extremely long, stressful travel day full of cancelled flights, rebooked flights, slippery roads, reduced trains, defective airplanes, repeated de-icing and a 6 hour delay, I was sent to the Immigration office upon arrival in Canada at 3 in the morning, because I was travelling on my British passport, not on my (long-expired) Canadian one. Apparently (all evidence online to the contrary,) you DO in fact need to enter Canada on your Canadian passport if you are Canadian. They gave me a warning. They put the warning on my file. Sufficiently chastened, I got a Canadian passport a few months later. I thought the troubles were over. 

But no! Christmas 2012, all ready to head out to meet my Dad in arrivals, Santa hat jauntily perched on The Little Ninja's head, we get redirected into the Customs line. For a baggage check. FML. Seriously. Canada hates me.

Although, it also doesn't. The customs guy who checked our stuff COULD have given us an $800 fine. Luckily, he just gave us a warning. Apparently, even if the food you have with you is totally allowed (like chocolate, which no self-respecting country would ever deny you), you STILL have to declare it on your entry form. Even if you're sure. Just declare it. Save yourself $800. Or a warning. :) 

Skating

I've been trying to come up with things to do while we're in Canada. While there is no lack of choice in Mississauga where my dad lives, I'm still trying to find anything worthwhile in Sarnia, where my mom lives. They have no indoor playgrounds at all or family-oriented... well, anything, really. So I've been praying for snow and searching harder and more creatively. And found skating. Sure, The Little Ninja only just learned to walk a couple of months ago, but this cool website called Baby Skates sells (as you would guess) skates for babies. They look like old-school learn-to-walk shoes (like I had when I was a baby) with blades. Cool. Skating times aren't listed online for the three local skating rinks, but I'm sure I could find out when I get there.

But what about when we get home? I'm not forking out $100 for skates TLN can only use while we're in Canada! The Netherlands is a skating nation, or so they claim to be. Their most popular winter sport is skating, no question. When it's cold enough to freeze the canals, the whole country drops whatever they are doing to go skating. Speed skating is well covered on TV and some of the country's most well-known athletes are world-champion speed skaters. It appears to be a huge sport here. Obviously a country with such a passion for skating should be covered in arenas.

Imagine my surprise when a Google search revealed there to be a total of 4 (FOUR!) arenas IN MY PROVINCE. There are two within reasonable driving distance, but, as you know, we don't actually have a car yet. This is ridiculous. How is this even possible? Does this alleged love of skating only manifest when the canals freeze over, disappearing days later with that same ice? Natural ice is definitely a big thing here. But is skating in the Netherlands really restricted to the - maximum - 20 days a year you can skate outside on the canals?! There were (and still are, in fact), 2 rinks (one arena) within walking distance of my dad's house. A (seasonal) outdoor rink is also walkable. There are no less than 12 arenas in his city. Nearby Toronto has 81 recreational skating rinks! 81! As I mentioned above, even Sarnia has 3 arenas (plus 4 other skating rinks, totalling 7)! Yet in the professed 'skating nation' of the Netherlands, there are only 25 places to skate recreationally in the whole country!

Seriously. I'm appalled. To be fair, the fun arena here is open pretty much the whole day (unless someone rents the whole rink at which point you're screwed), but it still costs €7.50 for adults and €6 for kids. This might be why people only skate when it's free, outside. It's only $3.50 and $2.80 in Mississauga (respectively). Hmmm. Still, it's not looking good for our activity schedule in Canada; if I don't buy the skates, we can't go at all. I suppose this also assumes that I will be buying skates there too, or again, no deal. Hmmm. 

***This just in*** a friend of mine says they sell adjustable blades here at the Hema for under €15. Definitely worth taking a look at. They could just save Christmas. 
***AND! Ordered online for delivery to the store only €10.80! Ha! Now for me...***

Christmas stress

There was a time, not so very long ago, that Christmas was my favourite time of the year. And a Christmas in Canada was the be-all and end-all of Christmasses. When I first emigrated, I couldn't imagine missing even a single year. It wasn't until I was married that I had a Christmas anywhere else. We currently have a tentative agreement that we will go to Canada for Christmas every other year. The bitch of it is that my parents are divorced. So, obviously, we can only spend Christmas with one or the other. Back in the day this wasn't such an issue as they both lived in the same city and moving back and forth was easy - we could stay for a week, a day, an hour, whatever. Christmas eve and Christmas morning with my Mom, Christmas dinner with my Dad or vice versa. Now, however, there's a good three hour drive between them. A drive I'd really prefer to only make once. And this screws up the scheduling incredibly.

My parents, both Jedi Guilt Masters, somehow make me feel like shit no matter what I do. I realise that I can't please everyone, but why can't they realise that too? And suck it up. Yes, it's my 'fault' that I live so far away, but it wasn't my fault that my parents split up (ultimately causing this whole mess), or that my Mom moved to the back end of beyond (aggravating this whole mess). Yet I get all the shit. 

We pay thousands of euros and spend 12 hours traveling with a fidgety toddler, (8 hours in a plane with him on my lap, no less,) going clearly out of our way to spend the holidays there with them, then have to rent a car and drive another three hours to visit my mom, and still it's not good enough. Nobody appreciates the money and effort we fork out to do this for them. It's all about who will get us on Christmas. Seriously. It's just a day, people. A numbered square on the calendar. There is NO REASON AT ALL that we can't have a fan-frigging-tastic Christmas celebration on a DIFFERENT DAY. We don't go to church. We're not religious. What the hell difference does it make whether we see X parent on the 23rd or on the 25th or on the 28th? Call it Christmas whatever day it is, have a great time, and enjoy being all together. That's what it's about, isn't it?

Needless to say, my ideal image of Christmas in Canada is quickly eroding. Half the time it doesn't even snow anymore. And the last time we went at Christmas we only made it out of Europe because I am a very good, experienced, determined traveller (Really. I should tell you THAT story sometime). The snow kept almost everyone else wherever they were until after Christmas. And weather conditions like that are always a risk as well. Going to Canada at any time entails the constant stress of living in someone else's house and having to always be sociable and inclusive, the agreeing to see everyone because, hey, we're not there that often, dealing with an upset toddler whose schedule is out of whack (though I hope this will improve as he gets older). I used to go at Christmas because I couldn't imagine it any other way. Now I think it's mostly guilt forcing me back, because I DID decide to live in a different country. Will I ever live that down?

As you might expect from my rant above, I've come up with an alternative. An idea is growing in the back of my mind, one that my parents aren't going to like a bit: maybe we shouldn't go to Canada at Christmas at all. We can go in the summer. It's warmer, there's more to do, and no one cares which days we go where as long as both my parents get to see us. In fact, it would work out cheaper and FAR more convenient for us even to pay for them to come here, especially after this year, as The Little Ninja will then require a seat of his own. Also, as of January, we will have a car, so no one will have to rent one or suffer public transit. Then Mom can come one year, Dad can come the other, and WE don't have to go anywhere. They each get to see us at Christmas twice as often as they do now, and I don't have to stress as much (obviously this would still entail a substantial suitcase of stress because I am not a comfortable hostess, but I digress). The idea hasn't grown so big, yet, that I would consider mentioning it to my parents, but we'll see how the holidays go...

Canada, take 2

We've been back almost a month, so I guess I've recovered enough to talk about it. Canada was alright. I mean, parts of it were great, but parts of it still kind of sucked. I'm starting to think the 'problem' however, is just me. I mean, as the Recyclist so rationally claims, you just have to expect some obligation and guilting on a trip like that. And that's true. I understand that my family wants to see me (or, more truthfully, The Little Ninja,) as much as possible and preferably on as many occasions as possible.

I've realized that the part I have trouble with is the people. The constant visiting, and, in the end, even my own little family's constant presence. As a clear-cut introvert, I need time by myself. Without family, friends, or, I now realize, even my own husband and son. I need time ALONE. Making the trip longer to spread out visits, therefore, is not the answer. Making the trip shorter so I can get back to alone-time, well, that might be a better one. Or just taking off on the Recyclist and The Little Ninja, making my escape in the rental car. What? Just for a few days.

Back in black

Well, back, anyway. I'm always in black. Seriously. I'm one of those.

Anyway... Seeing that my last post was about the disappointment of my last trip to Canada, I figured that now would be a good time to start writing again, as our next trip is just a week away.

You will all (ha ha) undoubtedly be proud to note that I have, as resolved, implemented a few changes. We are indeed going for three weeks, but starting with a two-day stopover in Iceland to enjoy Reykjavik and relax in the Blue Lagoon before continuing on to Toronto.

We have also rented a cottage in Cottage Country (up north, in the lakey, woodsy tamed wilderness that is Haliburton) for a week in the middle. This might give us some time alone, or just merely move the frustration up north. (I still invited my family up to the cottage with us.)

We'll see. I'm hoping for the best. At the very worst, we'll still have a nice lake nearby to drown my parents swim in and all my favourite Canadian junk food on hand to eat away our frustrations enjoy.

Worst Vacation Ever

Seriously.

The almost two weeks that we went to Canada to visit my family amount overwhelmingly to the worst vacation ever.

We saw my folks. We saw family and friends. Everyone got to meet The Little Ninja. We even had nice weather and went to nice places. We survived the tiptoe dance on eggshells around my parents and the inevitable guilt trips for living so far away, not visiting often enough, not sending enough photos and any other perceived slights. I suppose it was a successful family visit.

But it was a horrible vacation.

Vacations are supposed to be relaxing. Isn't that the whole point? Living at my parents' houses for 12 days, while possibly enjoyable for them, was a nightmare for me. It was far more work than just being at home, as their houses are just not equipped and arranged as efficiently as ours. It was far more stressful because it's not home and there are unwritten, unspoken expectations and judgments about everything and whereas at home I can do what I want when not looking after The Little Ninja, that is just SO not the case there. There is NO REST. The Recyclist doesn't seem to conform to the whole 'make-yourself-at-home' policy, so he's hanging on my heels and nagging me to get up before I'm ready because he doesn't feel comfortable going and getting his own breakfast without me there. So I have to get up even earlier than normal. I have to look after The Little Ninja constantly and immediately. The grandparents don't OFFER to do anything and asking them to even feed The Little Ninja a bottle feels like an imposition. While I was hoping they would offer to babysit one evening so The Recyclist and I could go out for our first date since The Little Ninja was born, obviously nothing came of that. I don't know why I thought otherwise; they didn't offer to help with anything when they came to visit us here, either.

As any family visit is, the trip was packed with obligatory visits. Many of these meetings were arranged without our knowledge or input; we were only informed of them offhand. Like we should have known the extended family would be at my Dad's on Sunday and booked the time accordingly.

We somehow never got a chance to go to the mall alone - so my intended shopping trip was somewhat impeded. (The Little Ninja got wicked stuff but I seem to have mostly missed out. I'll be pushing the London trip in January with the Kiwi now in order to make up for lost shopping time. The poor Recyclist missed out completely.)

And I always find it stressful to spend an extended length of time with other people (more than 1 day with people other than my husband and son) because I just hold in all the frustration to keep the peace. I am just not a social type. I enjoy and require time alone. At home I get that. With my family? NEVER.

So it's probably no surprise that when the time comes to go home, I can't wait. I can't wait to get away from my family! Isn't that awful? I feel like an awful daughter even writing it. But seriously, by the time I leave I don't even ever want to go back. In time, that feeling changes and, of course, we do go back. But damn, I wish it could be more enjoyable.

We need more time alone.
We need days with NOTHING planned.
We need time by ourselves to go do stuff like shop.
I think we need to go for longer, much as I dread the idea.

Thus, a new resolution. Hold me to this! Next time we go to Canada (probably next summer), we will break up the trip to have some time alone on at least one mini-vacation away from my family. A good possibility would be 3-3-3-3-3-3-3. That's three weeks, with 2 three-day sessions with each parent and 3 three-day periods of vacation in between. I doubt it'll actually work out that way, but it looks like a good ideal to strive towards. 12 days of obligation separated by 9 days of freedom. Because I want to like going to Canada. I want to enjoy spending time with my family. and hopefully this is the answer. Because I don't ever want a 'vacation' like that again.

Disappointment at the Zoo

I love the Toronto Zoo. I always have. It is - bar none - my favourite attraction in the GTA. Yet I hadn't managed to get there for several years. Before today. Now, with The Little Ninja in tow, it was clear that we would have to go this time, much to my own delight.

Perhaps my expectations were too high. I had, after all, been idealising the place in my head for a good 10 years. I had been looking forward to the zoo since I planned the trip to Canada in the first place. I had even checked out the website to see what special animals would be on display. I guess I had set myself up for disappointment.

My Dad might possibly have mentioned at some point that the zoo wasn't doing all that well and the city was considering privatising it (in my opinion a good idea, especially after my experiences) and that there was some protest about the elephants in the Canadian climate, but I had waved away these minor points as they obviously could not possibly affect my wondrous zoo experience.

Well. What a frickin disappointment. Maybe the zoo isn't doing that well, but I paid $23/person PLUS $10 parking and I damn well expected to see lots of animals. We didn't see any cheetahs, though I am willing to believe there is one somewhere in the massive enclosure, though before today I would have bet on more. But there was only one lonely giraffe, one rhino, one lion, one tiger, one antelope - it was like the zoo in Madagascar - one sad example of each of those fantastic animals. And the pride of the zoo, the polar bears, were in the far enclosure where you could barely see them off on the grass, rather than in the viewing enclosure.

I understand that it's no longer high season. That was clear in the many empty kiosks we passed, the closed restaurants and the shortened opening hours. But I paid full admission and I expect to see animals! The pavilions closed at 3:30 and the whole zoo closed at 4:30. We didn't even get to see the special sting ray exhibit. Or a bunch of other things, but the zoo is really, really big and I didn't really expect to see the other things. The polar bears were not really on display. But my biggest disappointment was the lack of some animals. Those mainstays of zoo visits, lions and tigers and bears; oh my, what a disgrace. Come on, Toronto; it is not fair to the animals or the visitors to have just one of these animals. Either find some more or send them off to another zoo to at least have some company. I don't need to walk for an hour to get around the Africa area of the zoo just to see one lion, one giraffe, one antelope and not find any cheetahs at all. (The cheetahs are my favourite...)

That said, the elephants were still there (at least two) and the hippos (also two) were fun to watch. If, however, as my Dad reports, the elephants are to be sent to San Francisco or somewhere else warm, only the hippos will remain as a positive point. And that's not good enough. Toronto Zoo used to be one of the best in the world. And I don't think that's all in my head. I fervently hope that the city sells it to some zoo operator that knows its business because there is no reason (especially at those prices) for the zoo not to be a top-rate attraction!

Aaaand it's fall.

After a stunning close to the season with 31C on Saturday, fall came crashing in later Saturday night, with a violent thunderstorm. And we've had cool, rainy weather ever since. Yes folks, that was it. Two nice weekends and it's over.

Fall in the Netherlands is not like fall was where I lived in Canada. There the days stay sunny, for the most part, but the air begins to take on a crispness, especially at night, that turns the leaves bright colours. Here fall is really the rainy season, though there are those who might complain that that's summer. Fall weather, more than the rain, is known here for changing quickly and violently. It's not unusual to go through half-hour cycles of hard rain and then sun, with strong gusting wind the entire day. The temperature is cool, which is good because otherwise you'd be too hot in your rain suit, which you need for the gusting rain. Normal umbrellas are useless here. They break with the first use.

During the last storm, I walked through an umbrella graveyard. Broken, discarded umbrellas littered the square, metal skeletons poking out of garbage cans and heaped beside them; others lying forlornly along the side of the road, bent into tortured shapes only hinting at the violence that destroyed them.

But I digress. The point here is that fall has arrived, bringing its stormy, changing weather. We, however, are off to Canada in a few weeks to enjoy the pleasant fall weather there. And to introduce The Little Ninja to my family, but timing is everything. A little less rain and a few more leaves changing colour. Welcome autumn!