Heil Lekker

Heil Lekker means very good in Dutch,which is appropriate for this entry, as here I am in sunny Netherlands, Vlagtweede to be specific. This tiny village is half an hour by train from the exciting university metropolis of Groningen, which is three hours from the even more exciting metropolis of Amsterdam.
This trip I elected to skip Amsterdam completely. Cities are hotbeds of energy, places where it is nice to be for a day or two, but also where all your money is consume much too quickly. So here I am at Hop en Grut, Arthur's farm. It is a little different now as Benedetta is the lady of the house. So there are fewer WWOOFers, she is a calming force and a wonderful, loving woman. Benedetta is, of course, Italian, but she moved here and got a job after only three months! Luck of the Itatlians.
I arrived here at 11 pm on the night of the 30th of June. What a journey I had! Awakening at 6:30 in Korcula, Croatia, I took a minibus to the town, then a boat to the mainland, another minbus to Dubrovnik. In Dubrovnik I was shoved off the bus to another bus, where they nearly forgot my huge hulking suitcase, and driven to the airport. There I waited for several hours, napping, reading the I Ching, and picking at the soggy sandwiches I had made earlier.
From there I took an airplane to Zagreb, a mere 40 minute flight. However we were slightly delayed, and upon the arrival in Zagreb my fellow travelers to Amsterdam were quite anxious! over tanned, wearing neon clothing, in the mid 50s, they were a flustered bunch, literally dashing about and yelling at the customs agents. It was highly amusing, and the agent led us through the airport yelling, "Amsterdam! Amsterdam!" as if we were some sort of mute caravan! What summarized the sitatution the best was me saying to over tanned, neon blue woman, "This is typical of Eastern Europe!" and it IS!
So upon the arrival in Amsterdam (yes dear readers, it did end safely!), I hurried through customs, but they wanted to talk for once.
"What are you doing here?"
"Visting friends in Vlagtweede, near Groningen"
"Groningen, ah you like it there?"
"Yes" (slightly imaptient look as I have only 12 in which to get bag,catch train!)
"Are you carrying any unsual items?"
"No" (ME?!)
and so on...finally they let me go! I rushed to find my bag, as usual,the last one on the carousel doing happy laps. I rushed to the train ticket office, knowing I could make the 18:50 (6:50 pm) train.
"You only have three minutes before the train leaves,so I advise you to hurry!", said the ticket seller.
And hurry I did! I seized my ticket and schedule, raced to the escalator, descended down the stairs, looked furiously for track 3..finally asked a man where it was.
"On the other side, you have to go up and then down again!"
"ALWAYS!" I vented, as I recall the same thing happened last year!
I grabbed my green rhino suitcase, and struggled up the stairs with it, in the meanwhile squashing a man against his own luggage. He let out some sort of protest in Arabic, but I didn't have 4 seconds to to seeif he was still alive.
I descended, made all my three trains, and made a very nice friend,Astrid, on the train from Groningen to Winschoten.
The days start for me nearing 7 am, I grab my yoga mat, head outside, and do an hour of asthanga yoga. Sometimes one of cats comes to check on me, I especially like Tomat, a white and red beauty with ginger eyelashes and pale green eyes. There is also Chocolate, an archaic grey Persian with a rather witchy look, but who is gentle and adores attention.
This afternoon I walked down the tree shaded lane. It's especially windy, so everything is dancing and pleasant. I stopped at the used book and antique barn that a couple runs,they remembered me from last year. They showed me their various goats, two of which are so fat it looks like they ate a mini fridge! An adorable, chesnut colored miniature pony was beckoned towards me, with eyelashes as long as as a finger.
I got three books:
Miss Pickerell Goes to Mars by Ellen MacGregor
Possessing the Secret of Joy by Alice Walker
The Pocketbook of Short Stories (Hemingway,Maugham,Cather,Tolstoi,O Henry, Maupassant, Dorothy Parker, Thomas Mann, Mark Twain, S.V. Benet, Edgar Allan Poe, Mansfield, Bret Harte, Balzac, Saki,Stevenson are just a few!)
Many strawberries and nettles have been picked, and my favorite breakfast, strawberries sliced open with peanut butter inside, has finally been fulfilled.
Tot ziens (see you!)
Tajna