Here I am again, walking in these busy streets filled with a taste of every bit of the world, under custody of the now peaceful waterways. Colourful walls, red lights and random construction placing me in the middle of this once sinful city. I suddenly find myself not walking in Amsterdam, but instead revisiting my memories, realizing a long lost loving feeling. Here I am again, in my fort, my private pirate bay, the stage for my bohemian rhapsody, my city on the water.
Little would I have thought how much would this weekend visit bring back. This might be just a DejàVu chronicle, a now paid debt for not writing about my summer love city. Nostalgia came and inspired me again, while zombie-like walking through Schiphol, with my own auto-pilot on, guided by the yellow signs. As I now leave this city again, I cannot help but realizing just how much I got from it. That’s why, I right away felt I had to write about my affair with Amsterdam.
Coming out of my flight the 12th of July 2015, I find myself immediately moved back to the 23th June 2014. That day I was about to start my new job. Such an adventure, I had left a secure, well paid job, a newly found girlfriend for whom I was totally crazy, and my supporting family, to come to Amsterdam and work as an intern at Maykin Media. I wanted to learn Django. I wanted to escape the chains of a boringly safe job. I wanted to give it a try on my own, take some risks. I wanted to develop myself further, to learn, see, experience new things before settling down. So much did I want to escape, that I ended up losing more than I expected, though. I remember the moment in ‘El Prat’ airport, when all the hurried and almost thoughtless decisions had come to get me. I remember my family saying goodbye with tears in their eyes, giving my last hug for the weeks to come to Laura, my girlfriend. I remember telling her I loved her for the first time in that moment. Not need for her to say it back, her tears were already piercing my heart. And she gave me one of the most beautiful treasures a human being can learn to appreciate… At the same time it made my decision much harder, it also made me stronger to go into the unknown, with a feeling of carrying such a precious spoiler in my heart. Their love.
With little else I arrived in Amsterdam, and headed to Centraal Station. The hostel I had booked for the first week was not far from it, about five hundred meters. The ambient there was more than I could ask for. The two weeks there were such an interesting time, I was moved several times to other rooms, as I kept asking favors to the people running the place. Thankfully, they were incredibly nice people. Two spanish girls, and an italian guy who could speak spanish as well. They understood my position, being there with nothing else than my backpack, a very poorly paid job, and few time to look for a ‘Kamer’ (dutch for ‘room’). Meanwhile I kept watching people in and out, sometimes high, sometimes just drunk. I remember now I met this incredibly weird Malagueño-Basco guy, who was obsessed with the idea that Spain had to become a republic as the king had recently abdicated. Could not care less what becomes of Spain, with all due respect, but I found it really funny how he seriously said goodbye saying ‘Por la república!’. It was tough to keep contact with Laura, something I felt and feel really guilty for. Skype calls were rarely possible as the living room was always crowded and noisy. We managed though. It was one day, among the crowd, when I found Johe. Yes, I have to say it was the beginning of a really nice friendship, as I am now walking towards his work place, to have lunch together and catch up with our lives. Johe is a great little tattoo artist. He, like me, had come all the way to Amsterdam (although his story was a bit more interesting, involving a fake europass rail and a sudden kick out from the train in Paris…) without much else than his backpack, in search of a new adventure, a change. He is originally from Gandia, and we started chatting right away about tattoos, motorcycles, girls, traveling, homesickness… And also shared useful information in order to find a room. It was, to me, really interesting to meet such a street-wisdom master. He has bigger plans than just tattooing, that include becoming an artist. Having seen some of his work, and motivation to achieve it, I seriously believe he will at some point. It was then when I decided that he definitely had to make me a tattoo, to Laura’s dislike. It is something now that reminds me of those youth hostel days with him, meeting after our daily quest to go to work and search for a place to live. We soon became good friends and kept meeting him regularly for some underground Amsterdam experience, as he had some really interesting contacts from the tattoo and graffiti world in A’dam. I guess this good relationship really helped me go through the torture to my ribs that meant to have my new tattoo done. It is great to see he has made it into a stable job, although still struggling a bit with the host he is staying with right now. I feel really happy to be able to hug him again, make jokes and wander around the tattoo studio where he works. I could see some of his new sketches, and see and hear how his art is developing into the abstract side. I say goodbye again, hoping it won’t be so long until next time, and vaguely setting up a reunion back in Barcelona. Riding some waves together really sounds like something we must do some time!
I head back to the same office I happily entered each morning for two months. Maykin Media is a small office in Amsterdam Centrum, in Herengracht channel. There’s where I was able to start off as a Django developer, which was, at the time, my goal regarding my career. I cannot thank Joeri and Alex enough for giving me a chance, not just to learn Django, but to meet all the awesome people that worked there, for supporting me until the very last moment, for making me (and everyone that’s been in Maykin) as a mate, a friend, more than just a human resource. When I look back in my life, I am always sure that, had things gone another way, I could have stayed at Maykin Media for a really long, long time. It was one of those painful decisions, an exit you feel sorry for skipping in your way through this crazy highway. I guess it was not the time, although it brought the possibility to further develop myself and meet amazing people like Frantisek, Eric, Sergei, José, and my great friend Jos. Jos was the first person, aside from Alex and Joeri, that I met at Maykin Media. I remember being in the kitchen that very first morning, preparing some coffee, when he went in and introduced himself. We spoke about work stuff, little did we know we would end up sharing so much great stuff in the future. It did not take long for us to find out we were two damn inquiring, wander-hungry, remote-places-loving souls. We spent a lot of time sharing our stories. His cycling across Europe and Iceland, my volunteering in Kenya and road trip to Croatia, our thirst for visiting remote countries… I cannot help but laughing now when I think just how straight we kept it that very first time, compared to how close we are now. Sure one of the reasons it seems so far ago is how much we have done together (and plan to do in the future). About him, he is just this really natural Scorpio, with a really rational mind, funny dark and intentionally random sense of humor (something we share quite brightly), sexual fetishist, inquiring, adventurous, original and honest. As opposed to me, a passional creature (sometimes so much I can’t keep my feet on the ground), we made a good tandem, finding our similarities as something really bonding, at the same time we found our differences stimulating. Jos has become with time one of my very best and closest friends although the distance. He’s become a partner for adventure, an always welcome guest, a soul mate.
Today Joeri is on holiday, but Alex and Jos and the new members of the crew, Alexander and Byron welcome me to Maykin. I am really glad to find out they are doing good, looking for a new place as they are growing… Alex became a father recently, and Joeri married his girlfriend shortly after I left (I did knew all this already, but it was anyway great to actually hear about it with a smile in their faces). It felt as just what I needed after the loss of my father, to come here and escape just one weekend from the prison that my hometown has become to me. To see that life goes on, reunite with friends I really hope to keep forever. After some beers and conversation about techy stuff, me and Jos set course towards Schiphol to pick our brand new Astra and head South to Jos’ hometown, Meijel.
On the way we catch up about work, women, and life in general. We always have some crazy shit to share with each other… And that makes the journey feel short and enjoyable. After hardly a couple of hours of flat and straight dutch highways on our rented car, we reach Meijel. It is one typical dutch village, with the typical dutch houses I loved (and love) so much. They all look very tidy and well organized, I guess as product of the flat terrain, and how that makes it easy to build uniformly. I remember how I planned, had I finally stayed in Amsterdam, to look for a house in the outskirts of Amsterdam… To stay and start a new chapter of my life for Laura and I. Everything feels so far gone now… But still kind of hurts. I shake off sad memories from my head to enjoy the cuteness of Jos’ hometown, as we reach his house.
The house is beautiful. They just had their garden rebuilt, all very well thought of. There was no grass on it, to cut maintenance costs and time. It arouse again the conversation with Jos about modern north European philosophy of just getting things done by paying an expert instead of investing in the joy of trying to get it done themselves. We entered through the garage into the kitchen. Right-hand-side lays the garden, and as we turn left I see the living room with a massive, great-looking jukebox. It was Jos’ father hobby, as a retired electrician, to buy and restore that beauty. And so it shines, as well as sounds, incredible. The sound of it. Mighty, powerful, but still had a warmth, foggy tone into it, seemly to the kind of tonality with which a vinyl sounds. As we literally climb the very steep and narrow stairs past the first floor, we reach the attic, where Jos used to sleep. I loved it. One particular feature I just love about dutch houses are the dormer windows. It is just great to sit on the side of it, watching the rain in those usual (day in day out) wet dutch days. It somehow (in my opinion) gives the house such a warm, cozy look from the outside as well. Jos shows me some of his treasures from when he was little. Geographic encyclopedias about every country in the world, and I can relate back all his passion for geography and old atlases. I can imagine him sitting there as a little kid, reading about all those distant and exotic places… And think about how great it is today to be witness of all that passion and sweetly let myself get irreversibly infected by this, although more refined and formal, child in Jos’s eyes when explaining about it to me. And thus be two kids again talking about each one’s freak stuff. Feels great.
The next morning we go to see Joost house. Joost is one of Jos’ (and thanks to him, now mine as well) friends. He lives in Meijel too, and I had previously met him in a ten days trip we did together with the three of us to Sardinia. He is a gentle, innocent and easy going guy. You could not find just one single bad bone on him. It is great to hang out with such great people. They brought me to ‘The Groote Peel National Park’, in which I could see (apart from shiploads of insects trying to bit me) how lakes, grass and wildlife formed some nice and curious landscapes. The place is definitely worth a walk through, and we kept on remembering good moments about Sardinia and they told me some child and teenager-hood stories of their own. It was very flattering to feel invited further into their private lives, to be welcome into their very home.
Time for me and Jos to hit the road towards Duisburg. It is hard to describe that experience. Duisburg is a well known place for a lot of dark souls… It is the modern pirate’s bay, where if you are keen on letting yourself be driven by seduction, you definitely can buy some good beauty at a good price. Deep inside I was driven more by a morbid curiosity rather than any factual or tangible desire. I wanted to taste the dark side, said by many to be so seductive. So there, climbing the stairs up from the underground, I found myself lost again in reflexion. As I felt the smoke of that one-off cheap but fiery affair, my own knowledge about myself was growing, helping me organize stuff upstairs, reordering priorities and giving a renewed vision about right and wrong. I think, despite against my generation general belief, I will always struggle to differentiate that of the physical and that of the emotional, but it is only by experience that our principles and values come to a proper degree of flexibility and consolidation at the same time. And this giving oneself the ultimate power of confidence.
After my adventure in the marshy underground quarters of Duisburg, it is time to drive back to Amsterdam for the night, and have a nice chilled out Sunday. A nice relaxing breakfast is due in the outskirts of Amsterdam, in a place I loved when I lived there, Holysloot. It is a beautiful little village with a cosy cafe at the entrance. I had a tasty Appeltart with a coffee latte. Some visitors came too to contribute with the hard work.
It was great to catch up with Eoin as well! I met him back in Maykin Media, he was doing an internship with the neighbour company (Getaway). Funny enough, by that time he was beginning to date a catalan girl. And do I love this guy! They are still together and he’s improving his catalan massively. It would make any catalan girl proud and flattered ;).
It’s been the most of an emotional weekend. As I drive back to Jos’ appartment with him, I can already anticipate the sadness of realizing that I will have to leave tomorrow morning, not to see Jos for a long time. In one hand the fear and anger against the distance, on the other the feeling that neither that or time will be able to erase the experiences, thoughts, passions and reflexive moments we have shared together. I find myself believing further. Even though apart, there is a bigger bond with this motherfucking adventure partner than with lots of people I speak with every day back at home.
Yeah, not much else to recall from that night and the next day, except for remembering that image of Jos waving goodbye as I drove away towards the airport. And so shall it be, until the image of seeing him coming out of the baggage claim makes up for that one. And we can be again two freaks for remote places acting foolish in a random airport.
