Queen's Orange Colours We Are Wearing Once Again.doc

So it wasn't exactly Queen's College Colours (red, blue, and gold) that were proudly on display last Wednesday and Thursday, but rather orange, the national colour of the Netherlands in honour of Queen Beatrix. The combination of Queen's Night and Queen's Day was a boiling over of revelry and merriment with a dash of whimsy and a sprig of hooliganism. It goes down as the craziest 36 hour stretch I've had since leaving Canada and, for that reason, (as with most events of this magnitude) hard to do justice to in a Sunday post.

Queen's Night began on the Wednesday at our favourite hangout called Orlaam which is an authentic little Dutch pub on Nieuwe Dolenstraat which is just up the street from where we study. Unfortunately, the majority of the group opted to finish their thesis proposals (mine had been sent in that morning) rather than partake in the Q Night festivities. There is only one word I can use to describe that decision: LAME. Thankfully, Hetta, Adam, and Stu also grasped the importance of such a night to our development as temporary ex-pats. After a few introductory pints, we went to an outdoor music venue near the Music Theatre where there was a DJ spinning some mad Euro techno. Beers were (unfortunately) two and a half euros with a one euro deposit on the cup: also LAME. The Dutch, who had done this a dreadful number of times before, brought their own which was what we should have done. A girl wandered up to the four of us and insisted we have orange stripes under our eyes - no complaint here! We spent a good two hours taking in the sights at the concert and decided to head to a "special invite only" party that was taking place elsewhere in the city.

I say it was "invite only" because the location was secret up until an hour before the party, however, because the party turned out to be directly under a bridge in the north of Amsterdam, I don't know how "invite only" you could say it was. That's right, we took a cab to the north of Amsterdam and had the driver drop us where we could hear the beat reverberating off the walls of the....bridge. I can't say I've ever been to a party under a bridge before. You should have heard the voice mail describing directions from just about anywhere in the Netherlands. Every instruction ended with, "and there you will find us, under the bridge." Needless to say, I was a bit skeptical (and thinking that this type of party was more for our teenage or freshly 20 counterparts), but it turned out to be an amazing night. It was, as usual in Amsterdam, a really alternative, hip, cutting-edge type group that was at the party. The music was really great, it was amazing to spend the night outside, and there was a bonfire under the opposite side of the bridge that proved to be a welcome place to sit and relax. Like The Neighbour, De Trut, and some of the other places I've been in the city, this party was a reminder of the types of spots that only really exist in a city like Amsterdam. I don't think I could have had this type of wild experience (I mean, an all night party under a bridge?) in Canada. It's nights like that, that at first I was weary to attend for fear of it being completely difference to what I've been to before, that make it the reason I've loved the European growth.

We should party under bridges more often; if the homeless don't mind the noise. I'm going to be honest in my chronicle and tell you that I stayed there until 5:30am (yes Mom and Dad...late). At that point, we walked back to the main section of the city (to avoid a 40 Euro cab fare). Luckily, I had biked to the North of Amsterdam before so I knew the route home. After a thirty minute hike, I climbed into bed at 6:00am and bolted awake 3 hours later to get up and ready for the breakfast I was hosting at 9:30. Ah, Queen's Day! The crowd started filtering in around 10:00am recounting stories about the evenings adventures and getting ready for a full day in the sun joining the Dutch faithful. We brunched on all kinds of fresh fruit, pancakes, waffles (of course), salmon, cheese, and, of course, some beer and mimosa. My initial reason for throwing the breakfast was to remember those nostalgic pancake-kegger mornings at Queen's homecoming and the one here in Amsterdam didn't disappoint. It reminded me really fondly of Kingston. Everyone arrived in their orange garb, we sat around listening to good music, and preparing ourselves for a leisurely afternoon.

After an extended two hour brunch, we hit the city at about noon. We visited the famous flea markets scattered all throughout the city. Anyone, everyone, and their neighbours all hawk their wares at the side of the street for dirt cheap. While I understand the tradition, I don't know who would want to spend an entire day trying to peddle old clothes when you could be among the parks and parties. Our second stop was a wander by the canals which were absolutely packed with orange boats filled with people having a few drinks and enjoying an afternoon ride. We then set up camp in a big park outside the Heineken Brewery where we had a patch of sun to call our own. It may not sound exciting but we sat for two hours chatting with other Dutch people, taking in the sights, and enjoying the beautiful sun (the .70 Euro cent beers weren't bad either). After park lounging, we went to a concert near the Museumplein where a huge sound system had been erected. The headlining group was none other than 2Unlimited. WHO? How about - ("Let Me Hear You Say Yeah! No No, No No, No No, No No, No No, No, No, there's no limit!") That's the correct number of 'No's for your information. They also sing Tribal Dance. I am certain that most of you have skipped to this at a Jump Rope For Heart near you. The Euros love the classics.

The concert was packed, but it was great to be part of a big group. Our last stop of the day was a park near Museumplein where we sat around and leisurely wasted away the afternoon. We had a Dutch visitor who joined our group and requested to know more about our international makeup. He pronounced Canada, KA-NA-DA with stress on each syllable and said that he was pretty certain that was the right way to pronounce it. He thought that being from Canada, I was just use to pronouncing it incorrectly, or as I think he called it "a localized version." I'm certain he had come from a "coffeeshop" just before joining us. Not to worry, I let him know who was boss of Canadian knowledge - he got the 411.

It was about that time, 10:00pm, that we all began to feel the effects of 28 hours of go-go-go partying. Instead of heading out further downtown, we decided to call it an early night. The three hours of sleep that I barely registered were ultimately, not enough to get me (or any one of us for that matter) to forego sleep and hit the town. I crashed into bed at 11:00pm and slept until noon the next day which happened to be par for the course for our group. I thought we had missed out on capitalizing Queen's Day Night, but it turns out (after consulting some Dutch friends) that going hard Queen's Night into day and not making it out for the latter part of the day is the preferred way to 'do' the holiday. So we actually followed the correct procedure without even knowing it. Unfortunately, the holiday was marred by the attack on the royal family in a small town which shut down some of the evening events in Amsterdam. It was a really shocking piece of news which put a damper on a lot of the festivities.

Queen's Day goes down as one of my most memorable European experiences yet! I think years from now, whenever I see a canal flooded with orange hooligans on orange boats with orange beers, I'll think back to the 32 hours of constant revelry. It was great to be in the centre of it all.

Doc's Prescription of the Day: I'd prescribe a wicked party under a bridge to shake up some of the Canadian uptightness, but I don't think it'd fly. What's everyone up to on Canada Day - bridge party anyone?