Return to the Home Front

After a short flight and a slightly bumpy landing I arrived back on English soil late last Friday night. I've returned to the land of rain, red buses and tea for a week of catching up with friends, family and trying to remember how much the British pound is worth.

After five years of living in Holland returning to England for a few days always feels a little strange at first. There are a lot of little (and a few big) differences between the two countries which I have to acclimatize to again each time. However, after a day or two I usually stop confusing the staff in London shops by saying, "Dank U," (Thank you) and, "Dag," (Bye).

The language change is also confusing in another way. When I am in Holland I filter out a lot of the background conversations of passers by (with out realizing it) because I can't easily understand most of them. Returning to England is like suddenly being cured of deafness. I can understand every conversation with in earshot again and it makes it hard to ignore them. I suddenly have a small window of insight into the lives of the people I pass in the street. This makes it more like getting my hearing back during a TV soap opera. It's hard to explain if you have not experienced it yourself but some of the strangest things I've heard in the last few days include:

"You better stop skimming money off the top before you get caught."
"I think I took too much of my medication. I can't feel my fingers or toes."
They could be lines from an episode of Eastenders.

There is also a big difference in atmosphere between London and Amsterdam which is most noticeable in the ambient noise of the two cities. The soundtrack to London is all bleeping traffic lights, police sirens and barking dog. For Amsterdam the soundtrack is bicycle bells, canal boat engines and loud tourists.

By the time I’m fully used to it all again it will be time to return to Holland and do the whole thing in reverse again. However, at least I don’t confuse Dutch shop staff as much when I speak English to them as I do when I accidentally speak Dutch to British shop staff.

Parents Visit: Day 4 & 5 – Old Holland and the Heron Invasion

As I stepped off the train at Amsterdam on the fourth day (of my parents visit) my phone started to ring. My mum was calling. Since they had booked their hotel before I knew I would be moving we were staying in different towns and had to meet up in Amsterdam each morning.

“Are you at Amsterdam yet?” She asked when I answered the phone.

“Yeah, I just got here.” It was the first time I was not late due to my inability to function in the mornings, something my parents kept on taking the Mickey out of me for.

“Ok… Well... We got off at the wrong stop and ended up at the Arena. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” She explained. I was finally able to take the Mickey out of them in return.

When they arrived we made our way to a traditional Dutch village near Zaandam. It’s an open air museum made up of old 19th century Dutch houses, factories and windmills all brought together from different areas of the country and restored. They even have the very first Albert Heijn shop from 1887. Albert Heijn is now the biggest chain of super markets in Holland.

We did not get lost trying to find the place like we had the other days. However, we did get lost trying to find our way back since we thought we could find a quicker way to return.

If you have not already guessed; both my parents love to travel and enjoy very long walks. Several people have commented on the amazing distances they will stroll in order to do a bit of sight seeing. I myself work behind a desk and spend most my days more or less stationary. I’m not used to hiking such long distances so by the fifth day I was starting to limp as I tried to keep up with my parents while they made jokes about young people having no stamina. Luckily this was the one day during their visit that we did not get lost.

We spent the morning looking around the Hortus Botanical Gardens and in the afternoon the Artis Zoo (both in Amsterdam). Since Artis is a Zoo there are a lot of animals (of course) but during our visit there were a few that were out of place. Our encounter with the Heron on the first day had seemed strange but the Zoo was practically under going a Heron invasion. They were every where, hiding amongst the flamingos, sneaking between the penguins, acting shifty around the camels. If there was food available in an open enclosure (and there was no animal likely to eat them) the Herons had taken over. Most of the animals had given up trying to chase them away. Luckily for us they did not try to nick our food when we stopped off for a bite to eat.

My parents returned to England the next day and I finally had time to recover from the week. I’ll be seeing them again tomorrow when I fly to England for the week to catch up with friends and family.

Parents Visit: Day 2 & 3 – The Blackmarket and Lost Again

We should have learnt from the first day (of my parents visit) when our search for a nature reserve led to us becoming lost in Amsterdam. However, both my parents are nature lovers so we tried out luck again on the second day. This time we were in search of ‘The Dr. Costerus Botanical Gardens’ in Hilversum and it did not take long for us to get lost again.

The map we had picked up from the tourist board (just a few moments before) was not very useful. It had no road names; in fact a lot of the roads were not even on it. The road signs were even less helpful largely due to the fact that there were none. So we ended up walking around the area, trying to find it. The confused looks on our faces must have shown because a very kind Dutch lady stopped as she was cycling by and asked if we needed help. She was able to tell us exactly were it was and it came as no surprise that we had walked straight past it. Not only was it down a small alleyway but the huge sign that stood over the entrance to ‘Dr. Costerus’ Botanical Gardens’ was also heavily over grown with some of Dr. Costerus’ ivy.

Although the name suggested it could have been a magical land of candy trees and chocolate grass (Willa Wonka’s Factory) or a creepy garden of freakish mutant plants and animals (The Island of Dr. Moreau) it turned out to be just someone’s back garden. We spent just five minutes looking around after half an hour of trying to find it.

The rest of the day was spent showing my parents the new house and town I now live in. They had visited the old house but I had never really had them over as guests before. I cooked dinner as they watched TV. It was kind of strange but also fun having the role reversal. The cat was very happy with the situation as well. As far as she was concerned it meant more people to pay attention to her. My parents both loved the new place and the playful cat.

We spent the third day (today) browsing through the stalls at the Black Market. No, my parents were not shopping for deadly weapons, non-rationed meat or illegally harvested body parts. Although the name suggests otherwise the Black Market in Beverwijk is a normal legal market. I heard so much Dutch music while we were there that it might have actually improved my Dutch language skills but I’ll probably have to do everything in song.

We spent the evening at an Australian themed bar in Amsterdam. They serve kangaroo burgers which are almost as big as my head. I am still digesting mine at the moment and might feel hungry again sometime in 2008.

I’m not sure what we are doing tomorrow yet but hopefully it will not involve getting lost somewhere.

Parents Visit: Day One - Lost in Amsterdam

My parents love to travel and they are visiting me in Holland at the moment. They have come over quite often in the five years that I have been here. It’s good because it gives me the opportunity to see them and visit parts of Holland I normally would not. All though both my parents are avid gardeners and love to visit the flower market there are only so many times anyone can explore Amsterdam and the surrounding areas before they want to see something new. So when ever they come over now my mum searches the internet for new places we can go to. One of the things my mum found this time as she explored the web was a nature reserve in the out skirts of Amsterdam.

The idea of a nature reserve in Amsterdam sounded a little strange but she had brought the map with her. However, the map itself was not very useful. It was sketchy at best and had no street names on it. However the print out did have a list of directions so we started a process of elimination by finding out where the location was not. In other words we got lost. After checking a few tram stop maps (and hiding from the rain that suddenly started) we managed to get back on track.

The directions were getting easier to follow as we got closer or maybe they were getting easier to follow because they were all left turns. By the third left turn my dad started joking that we would end up where we started. By the fourth left turn it turned out that he was right. We found ourselves looking down a street that we had been at the other end of 10 minutes earlier. This time I spotted something none of us saw when we had passed it previously; a one way street sign. We then realized the map we had been following was for cars. During our walk we had taken into account the one way road system with out even realizing. Although we had finally found the right road (Slauinenweg) there was no sign of the nature reserve. It didn’t even seem like the kind of place a nature reserve would be. So we gave up and caught a tram back, spending the rest of the day looking around Amsterdam.

However if we had not gotten lost we would have never have seen this huge Heron suddenly land right next to us on a car in the middle of the street.


Another highlight of the day happened when my dad coursed a small panic at the half built Amsterdam Arena metro station. Some gardening accessories he had bought fell out of his bag and clanged on the floor. Several worried looking commuters suddenly looked up at the leaking ceiling as if they thought bits of it were falling off.

My parents are still here for a few more days so I’ll have more of our misadventures to write about. If anyone has any suggestions on were I could take them while they are here please feel free to leave them in the comments.

Ik wil mijn fiets berijden (I want to ride my bicycle)

Fiets (bicycles) are a very common sight in Holland. They are a popular mode of transport and it is estimated that there are more then 16 million of them in the country. This number may or may not include the mangled, rusting, one-wheeled, non-roadworthy bicycles found chained to lamp posts, bridges or sunk at the bottom of the canals around the country. Even if it does there are still a lot of them in use every day.

Some bicycles look like rusty old frames that have been handed down through the family generation after generation. In most of these cases the locks seem to cost more then the bikes themselves and there is no need for a bell since the squeaking of the wheels is enough to give any pedestrian a fair warning. Some Dutch people like to paint or decorate their old bikes as well. When visiting Amsterdam it is usually guaranteed that you will see at least one bicycle chained to a bridge somewhere that has been decorated with plastic flowers or painted with bright circular patterns to make them more unique. Another reason for this could be to turn away bicycle thieves.

Unfortunately, Holland has a big problem with bicycle theft. It’s not unusual to see a shifty looking junky walking around with a stolen bike asking, “Fiets kopen?” ("Buy a bike?"). If they are able to sell it to someone for 10 or 15 euros it does not take long for that person to then lose the same bicycle to another junky later. It’s a perpetual cycle (no pun intended). It is said that having your bike stolen makes you a true Dutch person and it is a right of passage for all expatriates. I have not had my bike stolen yet but I did have it taken away once when the authorities thought it had been dumped (I got it back though).

Despite the risk of theft there are some more modern looking bicycles around (as well as the old) but the one thing you will hardly ever see is a mountain bike. This might be because you will hardly ever see any mountains, hills, valleys, declines or inclines in Holland and using a mountain bike for speed bumps would be over excessive. Holland is a very flat country but this is also part of what makes it a very good place for cycling.

There is over 4,500 miles of cycle path through out the country and a surprising amount of tourists mistake them for foot paths. This intrusion of territory (as they see it) is not always met with understanding by some cyclists. Some will leave it until the last possible second to ring their bell to let pedestrians (victims) know of their stealthy approach. When this happens the best thing to do is to pick a direction and jump because you won’t have any time to look around and judge the right direction to dodge anyway.

For a Dutch person a bike is not just a one person vehicle either. The rack on the back can be used as a second seat for a passenger who is willing to sit sideways and risk having their knees knocked off by any passing objects. I myself have accidentally jammed my feet into the back wheel of a bicycle (that I was the passenger on) in the past because it got too close to sign posts and parked cars for comfort.

It’s hard to say why cycling is so popular in Holland (compared to other countries). It could be because traffic laws favour bicycles over cars or that it is a way of staying healthy. It could also be that they are an easy way to get from one place to another and when all the available parking spots are full there are still lampposts, bridges, fences and other city objects that bicycles can be chained to. Maybe they simply like to terrorise pedestrians with them or they all liked the song Bicycle Race by Queen. Whatever the real reason is the Dutch seem to love their bicycles.

I'm not the only one who has noticed this either. A fellow ex-pat has also written about the Dutch fondness of the two wheeled transport.

Power Cut

They say silence is golden but I disagree. Silence is not so appealing when it is the result of a power cut you accidentally caused.

There are a lot of wires under my desk that power the computers, monitors and various other items of electrical equipment on my desk and those of the people near me. So when my foot accidentally caught the switch on one of the multi plug blocks today and turned it off all three desks (mine included) lost power. Half the room fell silent.

I tried to fix the problem as quickly as I could, apologizing while I crawled under my desk to turn everything back on but that turned out to be a mistake. The abrupt demand of electricity it caused when it all simultaneously came back to life forced the circuit breakers to shut everything down and the whole room suddenly went silent. You never realize how loud a computer fan is until they all suddenly go off at once. Silence is not golden. Silence is filled with the swearing of co-workers.

I had not just cut power to our room either. I managed to take out the power to a few of the servers used by the entire company at the same time. Everything is working again now but you can imagine how I felt.

I am Stuart. Destroyer of servers. Opps.

Chip and a Chair

A few weeks ago I started playing Texas Hold’em Poker. I had never really played it that much before but I have been enjoying it a lot lately as my understanding of the game has improved. I enjoy the element of strategy vs. luck and a successful bluff always feels like an achievement when successfully scaring someone away if I have a bad hand or tricking them into betting more if I have a good hand. I am still a young rookie but I am quite pleased with the way I have been playing for my level. I’ve been in the last round of quite a few games already.

My first attempt at playing poker was during my college years and did not go so well. I didn’t lose money and fall into massive debt but I did have to give them the shirt off my back. My shirt was not the only item of clothing I lost either. We were playing strip poker.

I can’t claim that it was not having an understanding of the rules that made me lose. However, I can blame the alcohol. We were all fairly drunk but I was the only one drunk enough to be playing a different game entirely to the others. A few minutes (and items of clothing) into the game I was asked a question that made me realize my mistake.

“Stuart. Why did you just pick up two cards from the deck?” One of the girls asked me.

“Because a two was just put down and I didn’t have one,” I slurred back.

There was a short puzzled silence before she asked, “Are you playing Black Jack?”

“So that’s why I am losing,” I suddenly realized.

Even when I started playing the right game it did not do me much good. We were playing no-limit poker and I lost everything.

Luckily the last few games have gone a little better and I am very happy to say that we have been betting with poker chips instead of clothes. I think there has to be at least a 1:1 girl/boy ratio for playing strip poker to be legal.

My house mate and I have already set up a regular poker night with some friends (we had our second this weekend). I bought a nice set of poker chips a few weeks ago and the other day my house mate got a poker mat for the table. If we carry on we believe it will only be a few weeks before we get a roulette wheel, some slot machines and turn the house into the first in a chain of Invading Holland Casinos. Anyone who would like to apply for a job as a croupier or a member of bar staff should leave their application in the comments. Available positions are only temporary since it may only take a few days for us to be arrested for gambling with out a license.

A Day in the Life of a Game Designer

My job keeps me very busy sometimes. I started writing a post earlier this week (which will still be coming later) but events have kept me occupied most of the time over the last few days. A lot of people I talk to think working in the computer games industry involves playing games all day and typing in a few bits of code here and there. Sadly it doesn’t even though it is still an enjoyable job.

My work day starts very early in the morning. It’s very early for me at least because I am not much of a morning person. I find it very hard to wake up which is why I sometimes look like an extra from a George A Romero movie as I stumble blindly towards the shower. A lot of people tell me I should drink coffee in the morning but I am cursed with an un-natural disliking of the black liquid (but I will drink it in extreme cases). I usually wake up during my train journey to work (or run the risk of waking up in Den Haag). If the train does not do the trick the tram usually does. Nothing wakes you up like having a tourist’s armpit get intimate with your face.

The work day usually begins with the obligatory checking of e-mail and a quick bit of internet surfing before the start of meetings, lua scripting, more meetings, polygon pushing, even more meetings, error fixing and other nerdy things that I should probably not bore you with or risk breaking my non-discloser agreement with. Trust me; it’s a lot of complicated stuff.

Lunch time is usually spent dodging the clip board holders doing surveys or collecting for charity on the streets. I’m not an unsympathetic person but they are on the street outside our office every day and every day at least five of them try to stop me with in the twenty meter walk to the near by supermarket on the way there an on the way back. After awhile it’s enough to drive anyone a little crazy.

Sometimes a group of us go out to one of the local cafes or restaurants for lunch. This week we were treated to a rather strange sight as we ate at a Dim Sum restaurant. As we all fiddled with out chop sticks we heard screaming outside. The sound kept on going back and forth as if someone was running past the restaurant every few minutes. When we looked out the window we saw a man jumping out in front of the passing trams, running along in front of them and screaming. Eventually he would jump out of the way, wait for another tram to come from the other direction and do the same. For a while we thought he was mad until we spotted the camera crew. Judging by the bags he was carrying as he waved his arms about and screamed they must have been filming a commercial for Media Markt.

The second part of the work day is usually much the same. However, this week I got to shout into a microphone again as I barked military commands for use in the game. It is only going to be used for temporary dialog until we get some real voice actors but it is surprisingly fun and therapeutic to spend half an hour screaming in a sound proof booth (even if I lost my voice afterwards). I was happy that this time I managed to sound slightly less like a timid teenage commander going through puberty.

Most work days usually end like any other but at the end of the week comes Friday and every second Friday at the office is free beer night. The reason for this is a while ago the company had a small problem. That problem was that employees would bring crates of beer into the office at the end of every Friday and all the rooms end up becoming a mess of empty beer bottles and full ash trays (plus there was the time we cellotaped one of the designers to his chair).

The solution to this problem that they chose was to buy lots and lots of beer every second Friday for the employees but only allow them to drink it in one room to contain the mess.

Everyone was happy with this and it just happens to be Friday night so I better rap this post up and get my free beer before it is all gone. Life working in the games industry might not be non-stop game playing all day but at least there is beer.