Alright, lesson learned. If you’re going to start barefoot running, start slow. REALLY slow.
If you’re following this blog, I bought them. Not just that, I even started a site dedicated to barefoot lifestyle. I’ve become convinced that going barefoot is a very interesting experiment (plus it feels great) and that it’s an upcoming trend. Why? Well, I ended up buying the Vibram Five Fingers. When I first saw them, I ridiculed them, more or less like everybody else. However, I bought these shoes for a great reason and my reasons make sense (you can read about this on my Squidoo lens). The product itself catches the attention of people, just before they start ridiculing it. I’m quite evangelical about my choice though (as with all my choices), so once I have their attention, I explain WHY I bought it, creating interest. Suddenly I find people quite open about the shoes and suddenly not ridiculing them anymore. As a matter of fact, they’ll start asking questions instead.
That’s the positive side of the experience. The other is a lesson. If you’re going to start barefoot running (or using minimalistic, barefoot simulating shoes, like the Vibram five fingers), then START SLOW. Imagine how slow you should start. Then HALF that. I normally do a 2 kilometer lap every two days or so. Just a 10 minute run, because I enjoy it. So when I went to try out the shoes, I loved the new way in which I was running. I ran about half and walked the other half, but I overdid it. Next day: terrible muscle ache. Day after that: STILL terrible muscle ache.
Really, do yourself a favour and start slow! But not before doing yourself a bigger favour: go barefoot! 🙂
Sounds like a title for a memoir, but it’s not. Ever since I started studying in Amsterdam 4 years ago, I’ve been on the move a lot. The longest I’ve lived in one place since then is about 11 months I believe. This is an overview of the places I’ve lived in, at home and abroad, and the people I lived with.
The first place I moved to is probably the most dreadful, although some people like it there. It’s a student campus just outside Amsterdam in the suburb town called Amstelveen – although its residents would prefer me to call it a city.
How I got there
I was living with my parents and every day I had to take the bike to the busstation, the bus to the trainstation, the train to another trainstation and a metro to the stop at my university. Meanwhile I was going a little crazy at home, with two parents and two other brothers and all three of us were getting a little too big to stay under one roof… So I convinced my parents that I could do much more homework if I lived by myself, closer to school and after a lot of dinner conversations dominated by the topic, they agreed. I arranged the housing via my university and a little later… I was moving into this flat on the first floor (not the ground floor).
How I’ve Lived There
I made sure that it at least looked like I was not being lazy and scored a 100% for my first university exam which was in Global Marketing. Besides, I didn’t have internet in my campus room, there was no student internet cafe, so there was not much to do besides reading, studying, sleeping, eating and playing a game every now and then. The communal kitchen sucked, and I tried not to go there. I hardly met any of the other people living in my hallway. Two nights a week I was awoken by the couple upstairs having their nightly pleasures. I went to my parents every weekend and took my laundry with me… Partied it up in my hometown and went back to Uilenstede. There was a lot of green around though and it was a great area for running, which I loved to do back then. I read a lot about Buddhism and even though I disliked the place, the loneliness pushed me to start my spiritual development. I think I also had a girlfriend back then who lived in the south of Holland so I spent quite some time with her also – missing a bunch of classes, but it didn’t show in my school results.
I had a bedroom/studyroom/livingroom, my own bathroom and a hallway with a big closet. Kitchen was shared, but I had my own cooker and fridge in my room. I also had a microwave, which I used, a lot.
When I could terminate or extend my contract after half a year, I knew there was only one way to go. Terminate that sucker Arnold Schwarzenegger style! So I moved back to my parents and looked for a new place for a while. I was looking in both Amsterdam as well as Utrecht, one being the city where I studied and the other being the city where I had most of my friends. By train, they’re just 25 minutes away from each other. That looking for a new place for ‘a while’ turned out to be 2 months; because it can be really hard to find a place in those two cities.
How I Got There
A friend told me about a friend of his who was living in a studenthouse and they had a room that was freeing up. I went there and both myself and another girl were clearly the contestors for the room, as far as the students were concerned. Their landlord however, had placed two people in their house, one being an alcoholic who had his wife and children walk out on him and the other was a 35 year old unemployed Arab guy who barely spoke Dutch. They decided to go for some quiet girl and they would not have it any other way. The friend of my friend (Marc) apologized to the girl and myself and said he knew another house in that neighbourhood where two rooms were freeing up and he would try to get us in there.
A few days later I was once more sitting in a living room full of students and we talked and all of us tried to show the best side of ourselves. After a short while the people that were living in the house left the living room to discuss who they liked most. They came back and both the girl from the previous time and myself were picked. Hooray!
How I’ve Lived There
I had a tiny attic room, but when it was time for signing the contracts the other girl told my landlord that it turned out she could not terminate her previous contract and she left. I then got the slightly bigger, but still very tiny attic room (more later). We then had to pick a new candidate for the other room. We had a few girls come by… Two girls were absolutely awful, so we decided to call someone else who reacted but didn’t show up and beg her to please come by. She came in and we immediately knew she had the place. I lived there for about 1 year and I saw many people come by. I moved in with:
Jesse, Jaap, Ruud, Iris and Rosa and the girl we picked was called Ayla. We lived with 7 people and shared one toilet, one shower and one kitchen. Then people started moving out and within half a year I was the last one left with a whole bunch of new people: Laurens (for 1/2 months), Petter, Dani, Laura and Wieger and one more girl whose name I can’t recall.
In the end it was perfect. The fire department came by and determined only 5 people could live there. It was Petter, Dani, Laura, Wieger and me for quite some time and we all became good friends. The house was in harmony. Then we got the bad news: the landlord was selling the house, we could either move to another house of theirs or find something for ourselves within a month. I said bye to my tiny attic room with just 2 square meters where I could stand up straight and a very low corner where I put my matress to sleep, my bedcave. 🙂
There was the occasional coffee smell in the neighbourhood since there’s a coffee factory right next to it.
Not sure how I found out, but I was informed of a place that rented out rooms in an old office building. It was going to be demolished some day, but until then, they got a permit to let people live in there. So they built a bunch of student rooms into the building and moved in 240 creative people. I contacted the foundation that was running it (Stichting Tijdelijk Wonen) and could move in one or two days later.
How I’ve Lived There
This must have been one of the best times in my life. I had some friends living in the same building and two of my friends moved in a little bit later. I only lived there for a few months, but it was great. My room overlooked a small canal in front of the building. Oh and my room was pink.
I had a lot of fun, a lot of nights sitting in my room with one of my best mates Bouwe, drinking some beers, listening to music. Besides my computer, the most used item in my room was my microwave/oven (in the evening for my meals, in the morning for my bread), closely followed by my bed. I really loved this place, it was excellent. Showers were shared and so was the kitchen, but there was a lot of space and the people living there were cool and progressive. How progressive they were I found out once more through Googling the address… Turns out there was a Foundation for the Development of Lesbian Culture housed in the building.
After four months or so, I moved to Sofia, Bulgaria for the first time and had to say goodbye to the building. It was being torn down 2 months later, so I would never see it again. 😥
Well, it didn’t hurt for long, since I was moving abroad and was so enveloped in this new place that I forgot all about my life back in Holland.
How I Got There
This is a long story, but in one sentence, I was inspired by the Balkan music one afternoon and decided to go live there. When I got there I got into contact with an agent who showed me a few flats in the center of Sofia and I picked my favourite.
How I’ve Lived There
Oh how I hit the jackpot. For the same price as all those places above, I got my own big living room with a kitchen, a bedroom and bathroom… Everything was included! Tables, chairs, couches, TV (which I never used), well, everything. You can have a look at it in the video below.
I lived by myself for the first time since Uilenstede and this time I LOVED IT! I was mixing a lot of music in my living room, eating at restaurants in the area, partying a lot, and working a lot. I had a great time that half year, which led to me moving back 1 year later.
Which I will post about soon… in part 2 🙂 What are the coolest places where you’ve lived? And the strangest? Leave your story in the comments or post about it on your blog and leave the link here.
BasBasBas.com is about my life abroad. I regularly write about my adventures in Istanbul, Bulgaria and travels in the region, but like to ponder about the future also. If you’d like to stay up to date, you can subscribe to my RSS feed or get email updates in your inbox. You can also follow me on Twitter.
It’s my 23rd birthday today! Over the last few years I’ve started to care less and less about my birthday, maybe partly due to be away from my family. I remember last year I hardly cared about my birthday, but due to the fact that it coincided with my last day of my internship in the Bulgarian National Radio, I had a great day.
This year I felt the same apathy towards my birthday, partly because I’ve just been very busy arranging things and getting myself settled here in Sofia. Bulgarians are great when it comes to birthdays. In Holland you might get a call or a text message saying happy birthday from a few close friends and your family, but that’s about it (in my experience). In Bulgaria however, you can expect almost everybody who has your number to give you a call to wish you a happy birthday, a great life, great health, great love, luck with any new plans or projects, great friendships et cetera.
Probably the best thing about Facebook, besides the fact that it’s really useful to keep in touch with your networks of friends, is the birthday reminders. I’ve had a lot of great birthday greetings from my friends today and would like to thank them all. Dutch, Russian, Bulgarian, Turkish, Spanish, German, English… Dankjewel, спасибо, благодаря, teşekkürler, gracias, danke, thanks!
Oh, and I was just sent this Bulgarian popfolk/chalga happy birthday music video. The video’s probably not supposed to be funny, but it’s making me laugh a lot.
BasBasBas.com is about my life abroad. I regularly write about my adventures in Istanbul, Bulgaria and travels in the region, but like to ponder about the future also. If you’d like to stay up to date, you can subscribe to my RSS feed or get email updates in your inbox. You can also follow me on Twitter.
I waited a long time with writing and posting this story. I did not want to worry my parents, brothers, family, girlfriend, friends, or readers. Now that I’m in another city, in another country, I feel that it’s the right time to share this. It’s an interesting story, exciting, entertaining, but also serves as a warning. These are not any of the reasons for me writing this however. Through my blog, I want to share my experiences of the intensity of life. Some moments are too private to describe, others are impossible to put into words, however, after this event occurred, I knew immediately I had an exciting story to share. Although the enthusiasm about what I had experienced soon changed into fear.
I was meeting an old Turkish friend in the party district of Taksim, or Beyoğlu to be more precise. We met on Istiklal Caddesi and it was fantastic to greet him in his country after us two having met in my country. We walked down to an alleyway where a few of his friends were getting drunk. The alley was a bit of a twilight zone, some very strange types there, but we soon finished our beers and headed to the club.
We had quite a few beers, talked the whole night and also met a few interesting people. As the club was closing we headed out, but decided it was too early to call it a night. We bought ourselves two beers and decided to chat some more while we finish our beers and then we’d go in our separate directions. We decided to look for a safe place to drink our beers. Drinking alcohol on the street is not allowed in Istanbul, as in Holland, so we wanted to get off the main street since you don’t want to mess with the Turkish police (and I’ll come back to this later). We walked around for 10 minutes, searching a spot that was out of sight enough to not be bothered by police, but in sight enough to be safe… We both had heard warnings about having to be careful in this area, so we took extra care. As we found our spot, my friend nodded towards a guy at the end of the street and joked “this guy could kill us”. We laughed and started chatting about music.
After about 10 minutes, two guys came by. My friend told me he’d be speaking in English and pretending not to know Turkish, since he figured that troublemakers looking for a fight were more likely to leave foreigners alone. I agreed. The guys asked for some money. I told them in Turkish I had none, threw out some more Turkish phrases in a playful way and after this they left. No trouble at all, but my friend was right about not speaking Turkish. There was a certain tensity.
About 10 minutes later another guy came. He spoke to us in Turkish and apparently asked if he could use on of our phones with his SIM card, because he needed to make a call. I’m not going to hand my phone over to anyone in the middle of the night, so I said in very broken Turkish that my phone’s in Holland, because in Turkey I can’t use it. He kinda stayed around like any socially awkward guy would in the middle of the night. I threw out some more Turkish phrases, he replied… It was fun. My friend told me he was impressed with my Turkish. I offered the guy a sip of my beer and everything was cool.
When we finished our beers we decided to get out of there and get back to Istiklal Caddesi, the main street in the district, always full with people – and police. As we indicated we were leaving the guy once more asked us for a phone for his SIM card… I told him again that I had no phone. My friend still pretended to not understand a word of Turkish. We started walking and indicated that we were going to Istiklal Cad. The guy then also started leaving. He said something in Turkish and when he wasn’t paying attention, my friend said that the guy was also going to the same street, which was just two streets away. The guy walked about 5 to 10 metres in front of us and my friend and I resumed our previous conversations, mostly about music and Istanbul.
We turned the corner, and another one. We were now looking at an L shaped corner. The guy in front of us walked to the corner and turned back and said something in Turkish. My friend said that the guy had said Istiklal Cad. was in the other direction. We turned and as I was talking, my friend wasn’t beside me as soon as I expected him to. Always an awkward moment when you think you’re talking to someone and they’re not there. I turned around and my friend was in the middle of the street with the guy holding him. I was wondering what was going on, but didn’t assume anything bad… The hold didn’t look so tight and I figured they were just messing around, after all, if you share your beer with someone, they’re your friend. All naive ideas, but retold it sounds a lot different than when it’s actually happening.
Next thing, the guy had my friend against the wall and I noticed the energy had shifted from jolly to something more serious. I walked around them to notice that the guy had a knife to the side of my friend’s head. I understood what was going on, but remained very calm. I had imagined before what it’s like to get robbed, but never thought it would be so casual. I contemplated for a second, to run and get help… To start shouting… The grab the guy by the wrist of the hand that was holding the knife with one hand and to punch him on his nose with the other… Instead I figured it was best to just stay right there and do nothing. I looked for loose stones or something that I could use as a weapon, but didn’t see anything. I was very surprised by how calm I was and how assertive. I took a step closer and said things like “hey man, you don’t want to do this”, “come on, stop it”, et cetera… Trying to find the reasonable guy in this obvious rookie.
My friend was noncooperative, so the guy put his hands in my friend’s pockets and fished out his phone. He then turned to me and while pointing his knife at me he said “telefon, telefon!” I looked him straight in the eyes and said “hayır, yok.” His eyes were nervous. He didn’t know what to do… it was obvious. He turned to my friend again… hesitated… and then he ran off. My friend and I caught our breaths… uttering “what the f….” And then suddenly… my friend started chasing the robber. I ran after him, but I was tired from the night out and my shoes were very loose, so I couldn’t keep up well. We ran through a few streets with people closing their bars and as my friend yelled out to stop the robber, nobody did anything. At some point we reached a crossing and just stood there… figuring out in which direction the guy had went. When you watch foot chases in Hollywood movies, you always get the moment where the good guys are chasing a bad guy and the reach a crossing, look around… 360 clockwise, 360 counterclockwise… and then curse because they know that they lost the guy. That’s exactly what it was like.
We weren’t finished however. I convinced my friend that we should go to the police station. People in Turkey have very little confidence in the police and so did my friend and so did I… but I also figured that even though there’s a small chance we’d find the robber and the phone… It was also a good chance for some closure.
A new adventure was about to start… Thieves are absolutely hated in Turkey and as I said earlier, you don’t want to mess with the police in Istanbul. Check back tomorrow for part 2!
Have you ever been robbed? How did it happen? Did you expect being robbed to be like actually getting robbed, or was it different?
Lesson learned here: if you’re in a big foreign city and get warned about certain things… Take it very seriously. Never think about it lightly!
Welcome to the first edition of blog carnivalExpat Experience!
Expat Experience is a collection of the web’s best blog posts about life as an expat around the world. What is it like to move abroad? What are the joys and difficulties of emerging yourself in a different culture? What about food, culture shock, language problems, or making friends abroad? How about maintaining contact and relationships with people back home? But let’s not forget the adventures one experiences as an expat… travelling in ones new home country, the social life, going from outsider to insider in a new environment.
Expat Experience is a reflection of all of this and more. We all have different homes and different destinations, but share one thing… We have made the move abroad. Whether you’re a long-term or short-term expat, serial expat or just someone that’s interested in the life of expats… Whether you’re interested in the lives of expats in your home country, an expat that wants to read about the experiences of fellow expats, or you just want to network with other expats and gain some attention for your own blog… Expat Experience offers a fascinating insight into the lives of expats globally.
Enjoy the read, enjoy the adventure! Enjoy the Expat Experience!
The last few days have been rather stressful so I haven’t been blogging as much as I’d like to. An update…
I have an apartment!
And what a hassle it was. This weekend I made an appointment with a real estate agent to check out a few flats in Göztepe and surroundings, which is in the Kadıköy part of the Asian side of Istanbul. We saw a few places, but they were a tad expensive and it wasn’t sure if we could put 4 people in… If we could put 4 in, we’d have no problems at all.
I saw some really nice places that, had I not been a poor student, would have said yes to right away. Alas, it was not to be… yet ;-). The situation was that my friend M. and I basically wanted to move out of the dorms as soon as possible. As a matter of fact, we HAD to move out of the dorms… M. had to move that same day. Two of the people who would be living with us however, were not present since they were on a trip somewhere in Turkey and would not return before the weekend. The place we chose was 1600 YTL (about 900 euros), which is okay, but before we could move in we had to pay 1600 YTL rent, plus 1600 YTL deposit, plus 1800 YTL service fee for the real estate agent (12% of one year’s rent). We immediately got stressed about this, but M. was more worried about not being able to enter her dorm anymore and/or having to move to another dorm that same night.
We headed back and once we got to the ferry from the Asian to the European side of Istanbul I started calling friends to see if we could crash somewhere until we were able to secure the flat. Michael, one of the Italian people in my Turkish language course, gave me the number of Donato, another Italian guy who already had a flat and had mentioned he was looking for 2 more people. I wouldn’t be interested for staying there for a long time, since it’s on the European side and my university at the Asian side, but it’s better than being homeless of course.
When we got off the ferry, M. went to her dorm and I went to mine. In the meantime I called Ola, a Polish girl who I’m going to share the flat with, who was on a trip way outside Istanbul. She was happy to hear about the fact that we had a flat and she was definitely in. I told her to find a fourth flatmate and she said she was on it… With enthusiasm 🙂
Once I got to the dorms I asked the administration if it was possible for me to stay longer and they gave me until Friday. I then called Donato on his Italian number (only number he has) from my Dutch number (I didn’t have anymore credit on my Turkish phone) to see if I could arrange something for my friend M. He said he’d have a look. I then had to see how in the hell I could secure enough money soon enough, so that I could move into the flat.
Since I’m hoping to move out of my dorm this Monday or Tuesday, I decided to make a video last night to be able to show you where I’ve been living during the first two weeks of my stay in Istanbul. In the video I just show my floor and the floor below. The building has 7 floors, 5 study areas, an internet café, cafeteria (a crappy one), laundry shop, crappy recreation basement, big iron fences around it, security, and a few hundred men living in it.
I’m sure you’ll understand I want to move out of here as soon as possible 😉
Okay, I’ve been procrastinating loooong enough (plus I’ve been ill for a while which really ruined the momentum). It’s time to get this exchange in Istanbul sorted! Firstly, tomorrow I’ll get all the forms fixed so I can deliver them to the partner university in Istanbul, called Yeditepe. This means that I’ve been selecting courses. The courses I plan on following at Yeditepe these fall are:
Introduction to Political Science;
Democracy in the Global Society;
Society, Culture and Communication in the 21st Century;
Needless to say, I’m very excited! Those that know me well will understand, based just on the list above here and how well it suits me 😉
Second thing is, the to-do lists are back. Last year they were here as I was preparing for Bulgaria, disturbing my natural laziness, now they’re back. Tomorrow I have an exam, so I better start studying now. I discontinued the ‘Latest Updates’ posts – they’ll now just be placed in the side menu. Besides that, more posts about my life and about going to Turkey: I promise.
Also, the website is still under construction, but it’s about 80-90% done now 🙂
As you might have noticed from myTweets, I have the flu. I’m going to try to be as coherent as possible in this post. It’s not so bad anymore, but it’s still a bit hard to structure my thoughts.
It began a few days ago on Wednesday, with some coughs and feeling a bit ‘tired’. I figured it was probably because I’d been procrastinating too much, which is a state-killer, but I was wrong. When I went to bed, I started getting fever, the chills, but at the same time feeling very hot. I was balancing between sleeping and being awake, dreaming and hallucinating, sober and flu-drunk. Ugh.
The fun thing about this flu though, is that every day there’s a different symptom. The first day, starting with the night, it was just fever and headache mainly, accompanied by muscle aches throughout my whole body. Everywhere imaginable (unless you have a sick imagination). I didn’t want to leave my room, let alone the house to go to the supermarket… because that would have been a great challenge. The interesting thing was though, that when you’re ill you’re supposed to feel shitty, right? I did feel physically shitty (elephant shitty), but mentally I was very at peace. It was easier to be at peace than normally. I guess my thoughts got so incoherent that I didn’t really bother with listening to them anymore. Quite relaxing, as you can imagine if you know me well.
So the next day, it got rather different. More coughing, fever was down a lot (though at times it came back, but not so bad as the day before), but there was a new ingredient to my flu! My body was aching. A very weird type of ache at that. It was all over my torso and not as deep as the muscle aches but it felt like my skin was hurting, or just below the skin. About one and a half year ago I fell down some stairs that had a rug on there, and as I slid down the stairs it tore open my back (Woohoo! Stairslide!). The days after, it hurt to wear a shirt, because even though it was touching the wounds just lightly, it was tingly and prickly. Such a baby, aren’t I? Anyway, this time was the same, except I had no wounds. So that was quite the sensation as you can imagine. This feeling started yesterday and still hasn’t faded by the way. Oh and in the evening I got Bouwe over to have dinner (I was in no state to cook myself) and I remarked that I looked rather healthy. He agreed, but then went on to mention the black rings below my eyes which I hadn’t noticed before. At least they were not as bad as this guy’s:
.
Then last night I was sleeping, dreaming a little… and suddenly I wake up with a shock. The first thing that goes through my head is “no DJ Tiësto!” This had absolutely no connection to my dream by the way. It also didn’t have a connection to my phone vibrating and hoping that it’s not DJ Tiësto who was calling me. It was completely random, like “Rosebud” or whatever your last words might be. And that scared me a bit… I don’t mind dying at some point, but I don’t want my last words or thoughts to be something as retarded as “no DJ Tiësto!” I got hit by a car before and they say your life flashes by in front of you in these situations… Well, it didn’t. My mind was very clear. The single thought going through my head was “shit!” Then I woke up on the road. .
So today it’s sore throat day. Some flu symptoms are still present but very manageable. I’m going to the supermarket today (by myself, hell yeah), do some school work, plus if I’m a nice boy and do all my chores I’ll treat myself to some baklava. Wooh. Sugar overdosing is fun! .
So yeah, to all friends and family reading this: don’t worry, I’m doing ok again. No, I will not go to the doctor. Yes, I am eating healthy. Thanks for your concern. Have a nice weekend! .
So I am waiting at the baggage control, trying desperately (but in vain) not to let impatient travelers cut in front. It is like Bulgarians have a strongly developed moral system when it comes to queuing composed of social Darwinism and survival of the fittest. After my luggage has (barely) been checked by customs and/or security, I proceed to the boarding, which is an absolute mess of people forming queues in masses. Boarding service employees are letting people through one by one, but the queue is about 50 people long and an equal number of people wide.
After this queue, we’re shoved into the type of bus only used by airports, which will eventually take us to our plane. Bulgarians, Germans, Dutchmen and other nationalities are herded into the bus like cattle, until it’s absolutely packed. I could swear I was vaguely (but distinctly) hearing sheep noises. “Baaahhh”. After the 1 minute and 20 seconds ride to the airplane, we all get off the bus and continue our previous activities of trying to be the first in queue, this time to go up the stairs into the plane. Roughly 49 people fail out of 50 people fail.
It’s not all bad however. As the airplane was taking off, it was immediately headed into the clouds. There were quite a lot of them, but they weren’t packed very densely, so as the plane was ascending, you saw clouds floating by underneath and around you and we were all treated to a delightful miniature view of Sofia. From high above, this intense city seems quite calm and peaceful.
Then the clouds get denser and turbulence hits the plane. This is also the moment when the seatbelt lights go off and people start stumbling down the pathway to the toilet. “Baaahhh”. At this point the group of young Dutchmen behind me, who seemed to have been in Sofia purely for partying, start to shut up. Finally. Something about young, sexually primitive human beings complaining about the only way to pick up girls in a particular city/country being with utilising money really makes me want to drive toenailclippers down my ears, or theirs for that matter. Of course, like dangerous liquids such as water, they are forbidden on board passenger flights. Tough luck.
Stewardesses start handing out menu cards with overpriced products for the budget airline traveler. Besides a small smile upon entering and exiting the airplane, I manage to ignore the stewardesses completely – which is a first, but it was also the first time that every single one of the stewardesses was ugly. Correlation? Who knows. From Bulgaria to Germany we fly above plains of clouds (cloudscapes) while the sun rises, but that particular phenomenon was hidden from my sight at the other side of the plane. However, this did mean that there was no gigantic ball of fusion shining into my window and touching my face without the protection of some atmospheric layers, so I managed to catch some sleep. About 2 seconds every time to be exact; then my contracted muscles would relax and I would once again wake up to be reminded how uncomfortable these budget airlines’ chairs really are. However I think that with this method, I managed to catch about 10 minutes of sleep over the hour, in my favourite mode of sleep: ‘snoozing’. I have now discovered though, that snoozing is best after a long, deep sleep, combined with the fact that I should actually be doing some horribly boring activity instead of snoozing. Although sitting in the airplane was indeed horribly boring, I wouldn’t call it an activity, so due to its similarity to the desirable, but actually being something extremely aggravating, I would say it’s the complete opposite of the best way to snooze.
That’s right. Trying to sleep on a flight of the Hungarian airline company Wizz Air, is officially the worst way to snooze! The snooze of DOOM!
The arrival went smooth though. Not! Everyone exiting the plane through just one exit. Only 2 people working the passport control. Me being in the line of the passport fascist (a.k.a. the wrong line), which is of course taking 5 times as long as the other. The busride to the central station (or Hauptbahnhof) being completely packed with people and luggage, taking half an hour, and costing more than 5 euro’s. Getting on the wrong train to catch my connecting train. Finding out I was actually on the right train and the guy in front of me had misinformed me when I asked if the train was going to my destination of choice. Then having to wait 2 more hours for the train to Holland. Yet, for some reason, I still like traveling. Actually, I even like this particular trip – besides the fact that it’s creating thousands of kilometres distance between my girlfriend Tsvety and I.
Oh, and the Starbucks in which I am typing this apparently charges 8 euro’s an hour to use their wireless internet. I sincerely hope that the people who actually pay for it manage to download actual diamonds and nuggets of gold through the internet connection. I decided I’d just type up a little something (you’re reading it now) to put online as soon as I get home. After, what I expect, just a little bit more frustration with public transport. Here we go. Let’s aide.
The first place I moved to is probably the most dreadful, although 
When I could terminate or extend my contract after half a year, I knew there was only one way to go. Terminate that sucker Arnold Schwarzenegger style! So I moved back to my parents and looked for a new place for a while. I was looking in both Amsterdam as well as Utrecht, one being the city where I studied and the other being the city where I had most of my friends. By train, they’re just 25 minutes away from each other. That looking for a new place for ‘a while’ turned out to be 2 months; because it can be really hard to find a place in those two cities.
It’s my 23rd birthday today! Over the last few years I’ve started to care less and less about my birthday, maybe partly due to be away from my family. I remember last year I hardly cared about my birthday, but due to the fact that it coincided with my last day of my internship in the Bulgarian National Radio, I had a great day.
