Birds, Bikes, and Beauty

I landed in Amsterdam just before 6:00am. It was the start of a new day in a new year on a new continent—and I was all alone.

Before my first flight from Kansas City to Detroit, I did something I'd been dreading for months: I said goodbye to my mom, my dad, and my boyfriend, Tyler. It was my first time going to Europe and my first time leaving for such a extended time—and it felt surreal.

Ever since my older sister spent a semester in London, I've wanted to study abroad. That's one of the big reasons I decided to attend Webster University. It's a school based in St. Louis, but it also has campuses in several different countries. It was only then, in that flurry of hugs and goodbyes, that my decision to study abroad felt real.

When I got to Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, my first stop—after baggage claim and customs—was Starbucks. How American of me, right? It was to my relief that, yes, chai tea was on the menu of this Dutch Starbucks. Crisis adverted.

It was still dark when I began the train ride from the airport to Leiden. Before coming abroad, I was a little nervous about public transportation. But the train was so clean and efficient and easy to access that it made American public transit look pathetic.

In just 20 minutes, I got to Leiden Centraal—what seemed like a huge train station for a small town. But when I stepped outside, I realized that the town wasn't so small after all. There weren't skyscrapers or anything—just so many people and so many bikes. Like, I saw more bikes in one glance than I'd seen in total throughout my life.

It was a quick walk to campus, and while waiting to be checked into my room, I was given a tour of campus—basically one building that hosts all classes. It's right on the canal and is just a two-minute walk from the dorm building (which means on days when I'm not feeling very energized, I can stay in bed until five minutes before class).

On my way to my new home, the Living and Learning Center, I was greeted by dozens of huge birds swarming the canal. It was straight out of Alfred Hitchcock's film, Birds. This has since become a daily occurrence. I was finally checked into my room, and I've got to say, I lucked out. By American standards, it's a big room; but Europeans would deem it huge. There's a kitchenette, a wardrobe, a bed, a desk, and nearly a full wall of windows overlooking the courtyard. The only small thing about it was my bathroom, which looked straight out of a budget airplane. But I can't complain; at least it is private.

Once my stuff was somewhat settled in the room, I decided to go on my first big adventure: grocery shopping. I tried two places: a store called Jumbo (yum-bo) and Aldi; both didn't take my credit card. So I wandered back to the train station where I withdrew Euros for the first time.

Shopping at Jumbo—or any Dutch store, for that matter—was a challenge because I couldn't read any of the labels. I had to infer what some words meant, but was excited to see that "shampoo" is still "shampoo" in Dutch. More easy translations like that, please. The highlight of my trip to the store was finding a great deal: four donuts for €1 (about one and a quarter dollars). Checking out wasn't quite as pleasant, as the Dutch aren't known for customer service. The clerk moved rapidly, scanning the items and tossing them to her side where I had to rush to bag everything before she began scanning the next person's groceries. No pleasantries exchanged. But I didn't mind because I wouldn't have known what she was saying anyway. 

Since that first day, I've taken the train on little excursions. My first trip was to Delft, Netherlands, where the Inter IKEA Group is headquartered. The IKEA turned out to be like all others I've been to, but the town of Delft was one-of-a-kind: its canals and stone archways and quaint cobblestone streets had me smiling through the drizzle. 

My second excursion was to Zandvoort, NL, a beach town west of Amsterdam. From Leiden, I traveled by train to a town called Haarlem, then waited in the cold for a train to Zandvoort. The wait was so worth it. When I arrived, the sun was shining bright enough to make the winter air tolerable, and there were many people out enjoying the nice day. I'm admittedly a cat person, but even I can acknowledge the abundance of cute dogs that were running around at the beach. No language is needed to interact with animals.

After walking along the shore and taking photos, I wandered into the nearby neighborhood. The homes were straight out of a picture book: many old, charming cottages as well as some new ones with striking architecture. As I was walking along a curved road, I came upon what seemed to be a look-out point. From there, I could see grass-covered sand dunes expanding far into the horizon. It was so calming just to stand there and let my eyes weave through the tan and green hills.

I was positioned near some (Dutch) signs that I couldn't read; first I thought they might have been 'no trespassing' warnings, but it also looked to indicate the beginning of a bike path. And something about a wild rooster. Hmm. In that moment, I followed my gut and began walking down the path toward the dunes—my best decision of the day. I later learned that these paved bike paths go on for miles and miles through the dune-filled Dutch countryside. Later this spring, when it gets warmer, I plan to rent a bike and give it a go.

I'll always remember my trip to Zandvoort (photo gallery below) as the first place I experienced Europe's natural beauty. On my next post, you can expect to see and hear about more of Europe's beauty from my upcoming trip to Geneva, Switzerland and Chamonix, France.