Day 1 - Heathrow/Schipol/Rotterdam

Day 1 - (Friday, 13th Jan 06')
After a rather comfortable flight, Raj and I landed at London Heathrow. The plane having taxied far from the terminal building, only delayed us more, until we realised that Raj's connecting flight was to take off in the next 30 mins. What followed was a mad race to security, where I saw him rush through the newly tightened security procedures at LHR and bid him good-bye. Common sense evaded me, as I later realised that I needed to go through the same security (at Terminal 4) for my connecting flight into Schipol Airport, Amsterdam.
A security check later, I could be found doing my Heathrow window-shopping that has become sort of a customary ritual on my travels through Europe. This was probably my 7th or 8th time at Heathrow, having mostly flown British Airways and I bet I can still tell you how many WHS's they have and which one's sell phonecards and which don't:)
Having used up my leftover quid for coffee and a bottle of water, I found myself voyeur-ing away. "Froffee: AMT's Unique 'Real Coffee' Milkshake" caught my eye, and I found myself saying "Froffee" with a thick brit accent for the rest of my time there. Another empty and short flight later, I was landing on a vast canvas, sprayed in all shades of green, interspersed with siver linings of canals. Schipol Airport is very far from Amsterdam, was what I was told later, thus clarifying to my urban mindset, that this natural expanse of flat-land was not Amsterdam.
Soon to start were the amusing set of incidences that my Dutch trip is all about. A quick call to Chintan (my junior from architecture under-grad in Mumbai and host in Dutch-land) clarified the train timing and place to meet up with him at Rotterdam Centraal (Rotterdam Central station as the name suggests). Chintan attends the Master's program at Berlage (pronounced "Ber-la-kkhhe" in Dutch as I was instructed several times) situated in Rotterdam and presently lives there.
(Impression: Was I being silly American or the ticket-counter lady seemed a tad bit rude?) (As I was to find out later, the Dutch are pretty abrupt by nature, which can appear rude to most people) Well whatever; I was on my way to 'Information' to find out about the 'Intercity' train to Rotterdam Centraal. Chintan had strictly instructed me to take an 'Intercity' train as it was the 'fast' train, the other two being the 'Snell' (medium-paced) and the 'Stop' (slow) trains.
At the 'Information' I was told that there were no trains running between Schipol and Rotterdam and so I had to take a bus till Leiden and catch the train to Rotterdam from there. ("Oh so much like the weekend subway torture back home" I said to myself) So lugging my heavy but single bag (the exact reason why I go single-bagged in Europe) I found my way to the correct bus-stop outside, first B-21, then C-23, then finally into the bus where a random maniac set the mood with his hilarious 'dutch' banter as we drove across the flat-scapes of Holland, with a complete yellow circle for a sun, that seemed to say "Ashu Bleeft" (Dutch phrase meaning 'As you please' said for anything, anywhere, at anytime, as my host instructed me)
Dragged the bag at Leiden station to have yet another interaction with a rude Dutch native. I, in all my proper American mannerism "Where can I get the train to Rotterdam from?" (Although I must admit I asked the wrong guy; he was the lost property manager at the building outside the station) and he in his thick Dutch accent "How do I know, Ask someone at the station". Me "Huh?" and He "Hmmphh!"
Into the station and into my train. The train ride revealed houses with huge windows and a full view of the activities going on inside (I was later told that the Dutch are very house-proud and love to exhibit their houses, which would become very apparent to me in the days to come. Windows, as high as the ceiling and wide as a wall, in some cases, exhibit the people living inside, going about their regular house chores, walking/ using the room/ talking/ dining...just living, completely aloof of their audience. Peeping into people's homes became my favourite activity on this trip, as each interior displayed the decor, beauty and design sense of the owner; as in a doll house. House-watch continues on the following days)
Reached Rotterdam Centraal finally, only to find to the dismay of my spoilt American convenience, no escalator or elevator. I could'nt help but wonder, how taken-for-granted these ammenities are in American public spaces. On the other side of the stairs and a few feet later, my bag and I were thrilled to see Chintan waiting patiently for us at the entrance of the station.
We picked up his bike and then walked to his apartment; en route paying respects to 'THE' Dutch Architecture office, OMA and it's God Rem Koolhauss (not to be seen, but assumed to be inside).
Chintan's apartment in a few words can be described as right out of an IKEA catalogue; perfectly modern, fully equipped and "new". Although Chints was unhappy about this place (He loved his old Dutch house better), I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised. Coming from my rent-control pre-war Queens apartment, this modernised albeit IKEA assemblage, that too rented out not owned, seemed unique to me. This is what Rotterdam is all about, now that I think about it. Modern, new, designed, retro-fitted, built from scratch after the Germans bombed it completely during WWII!
Dinner was to be at DUDOK; this restaurant recommended by my ex-roomie and friend from SCI_Arc, as the 'place that sells the best apple pie in the whole world'. At Chintan's mention, I noticed the 'poor quality and arrogance' of Dutch waiters, (The Dutch are very proud people and do not believe themselves to be inferior or sub-level to anyone. That is the reason why, Dutch waiters hardly ever wait upon you, as we saw at DUDOK)
DUDOK (In case you're wondering on the uppercase, I have to emphasize, since it is a name tucked away into my memory, for apple-pie reasons:) is a spacious restaurant, with candle-lit tables and a regular Friday night bustle. After a somewhat light dinner, Chintan bought me the much revered apple-pie (the freshness of which wafts through the restaurant) in his customised version (with a scoop of vanilla ice cream). The experience of indulging into it, was incomprehensible and hence cannot be expressed in words. All I can say, is that it's a taste stored on my palate forever.
(Note: Europe does this to me. The tiramisu in Venice, Italy was a similar experience, to store the taste of which, I gave up tiramisu altogether, until a few years later, when I could'nt control my urges:) DUDOK's apple-pie has cast the same spell)
Post-dinner conversation found us walking towards Chintan's school (The Berlage Institute; say 'Ber-la-kkhhe') as I was offered a small tour of the small building. Sahil and Melissa, among others were met with, (Sahil is another junior from architecture under-grad and Melissa is his classmate, from the Dominican Republic) and I re-lived my studio hours at SCI_Arc with them.
(Impression: Architecture studios' are a prototypical environment, that breed similar junkies, all over the world)
Some regular chit-chat and after a brief plan for the next day, we left to walk back to Chintan's place; Chints, me and his bike. (Chint's pointed out the ever-lit storey of the OMA office, where architects sweat night and day, one of them being his roommate, whom he barely sees at home)
As I took in the city by night and said good bye to my first evening here, the full moon stared at me blankly over the post-modern Rotterdam sky. At Chint's place, even my bed had character, (It was under a sloping roof, that stooped low enough to hurt my hand when I tossed in bed).
The plan for tomorrow was to rise early and go to Amsterdam with travelling-Sahil (as he's known, because of his blog and his travels)