Dutchiness

Sticking to our Dutch integration game plan, Mills and I decided to visit the Gemeente Museum this weekend. Gemeente = municipal (basically).

The first exhibition (outside the museum ticketing office) is an interesting skeleton of a large whale, which washed up on Dutch shores about half a century ago. The 12m carcasse got our attention and we decided to see what else the local authorities had to offer in terms of historical education.

Big mistake.
Huge.

Eight euros later, we found ourselves wandering randomly in and out of art exhibitions such as: "Vases with spouts: Three centuries of Splendour" and "Consummate Chrome and avant-garde furniture".

We strolled through the exhibitions in disbelief, gawking at rusty wire-framed office furniture from the 70s. Seriously? THIS is cause to be proud? Because my family has a garage full of it back in Pretoria... we could ship it over for you, at a cost of course.

Then there was the talented exhibition of a local textile artist. Yes, this woman created art out of zippers and knitting. I got told off for standing too close to an exhibit.

Forgive me, but anything with press studs is just asking to be pulled apart.

The best thing is that the locals love it. They admire the works. They exhale with adoration. They soak it up. I guess it might be worth it if you've actually grew up in the country, but through the eyes of expats... um, no.

Aside from wasting our money on useless museums (eight euros... to look at furniture that I used to clamber over in my grandmother's backyard), Mills and I have been perfecting the art of cycling on one bike. Of course, when I say 'we' and 'cycling', I mean Mills cycling and me sitting like a princess.

I've finally learnt the balance, and Mills is much better at not swerving across the road every time I hop on board. Sitting sidesaddle on the back of the bike is like being a baby on the back of an African mama. My vision is completely one directional. Which is why it came as a rude surprise when I lost my knee cap to a sneaky pole on the way home on Saturday night.

Merrily chatting away, Mills forgot about the matching set of patellas jutting out behind him and took the corner a little too tightly (for my comfort anyway). I literally had no idea what hit me, just that my leg felt like it was now 3m behind the rest of my body.

Eina.

Not that it's going to stop me sitting on the back of the bike... As far as I'm concerned, if somebody else is prepared to ship me around, I'm prepared to take the knocks. I've got another knee. It's all good.