"And so it is, just like you said it would be, we both forget the breeze, most of the time..."

Hoooweee have I moved about a fair bit since last we met...








So, the first notable event in the chronology of my notable events was when Mum's friend Nicolet took me through a worm-hole, on the other side of which I could explore and breathe and touch and smell the world my Mum inhabited 'way back when', when she was a little Dutch girl, and not my mother.









Nicolet lived just around the corner from my Mum in Zevenaar for maybe about two years before Mum moved to Australia. They knew eachother for such a brief moment, a momentary sigh in a lifetime of breathing in and out, and still they are members of eachother's lives... I'm still incredibly impressed by that. So, first Nicolet picked me up in Doorwerth, and we drove to Zevenaar, where her parents still live in the same home. For a day my mother's world unfolded around me like a flower, and at the same time, it folded back up, tight around me, as I sat in the centre of this universe, safe and warm and cosy.



Nicolet took me to Mum's old house. We knocked on the door and were greeted by the very woman who bought the house from my family years ago. When Nicolet told her who I was, and what my relationship to the building was (and once the woman had done her secret spy business, sneakily sussing out if we were legit or not by quizzing us on the surname of the previous occupants), the doors were flung open, and I was invited through a window into the past. I stood in the loungeroom where my Mum, aunt, Opa and Oma would have sat and chatted, I stood in their kitchen where they would have made pea soup and prepared coffee, I stood in the back yard where maybe the sisters played, and where Opa and Oma would have sat to get every second of available sun.


Then I was invited upstairs where I breathed in Barbara's old bedroom, heard how the bathroom had been renovated, saw the master bedroom, where my grandparents slept, and finally, I stood there, totally awe-struck at the life I am living, where I can be there, in person, standing in my mother's bedroom that she inhabited so long ago when she lived such a different life. There I was, looking at the walls that surrounded her when she slept, and looking out the window at what was once a view of Nicolet's bedroom across the way... but what is now a view of a tree which has filled the frame over the years.





Pretty special.





I saw Zevenaar, Nicolet and I had fun watching the intensity with which people enjoyed the country music festival that was on there. We crossed the river on a barge, and drove through Bemmel to Nicolet's house. I was greeted there so openly and warm heartedly, and spent the afternoon and evening in the loveliest company, and very contented. It was special to me to share that day with Nicolet, where I could first inhale the world she shared with my Mum, and then move on to, for a brief moment, witness and be a part of the world she has made for herself since that time. I am a lucky, lucky girl!!



The next day I sat around on my butt and did a big fat nothing. Wait, I lie, I TOTALLY baked an apple pie. Photographic proof of that fact will come at a later date, but for now, you will have to construct your own images of me, Madeline Ellwood, baking. Good times. Mechtild helped me obviously. I'm pretty skilled, but not that skilled.



Then came my last day in Holland... it was over. The day after I would leave was Hadewig's birthday, so on the Monday we went out to dinner to celebrate. Indonesian food in Holland. Yummo. Our table was laden, it tasted so incredibly good- otherworldly good. If I had ignorantly looked into my own heart, I never would have guessed that I hadn't known these people my entire life, that I hadn't shared my life with them. I love them all so much.

As I left on the train the next day, I reflected a lot on Holland and what it had been to me, what it is to me and will be forever. I felt satisfied. I felt like I had achieved something by being there. I had taken in so very much, absorbed like a sponge to the point where it just drips- it cannot absorb any more! I still don't feel like I can articulate what it was for me to be there and to live the life I was living while I was there. But that is something I discovered, that a development, a growth, an achievement- it doesn't have to be labelled and clear and explainable to be a reality. It used to always be there, in the back of my mind, that something isn't real until you can define it. But that's not true. So, I can't write a list of things I know now that I didn't know before. I can't locate all the parts inside myself that have been altered and shifted and pushed forward or pushed aside or pushed right out. I can't tell you exactly what it is about me that is different, I just know that the life I will live now is going to be so vastly different to the one I would have experienced if I had not had my time there, with those people.

I left the country feeling so energised, so passionate, so excited about life and the world and all the things I was going to do. I have so many plans, so many ideas- ideas and plans I NEVER would have imagined myself to come up with, but which I am now so very and truly excited to initiate.

Holland did something to me. When I was there, everything was just right, and I didn't have to work for it. At some point during my time there, it was like all the problems I had struggled and grappled and wrestled with my entire life, those issues which had always seemed so imsurmountable, it was like I was cycling so hard against the wind one day, that they all just washed away! And I didn't have to 'decide' anything, I didm't even 'figure anything out'. I just reached a place, a space, a time, where those things were done with me and I was done with them. How wonderful, how incredibly special. I had this surreal moment in which I thought about all those things that had once plagued me, all those experiences that had consumed me, and I felt so strongly as though I was thinking about another person. That stuff was no longer a part of me.


Then I went to Paris. Paris was beautiful, stunning. I really enjoyed my time there. Even though it was so amazing, I still feel a distance between myself and the city. I for me, it lacked a certain humanity. One thing I loved to dearly about Holland was how unassuming and humble it was. It was always content enough in itself, knowing that it's good and true, and it never needed to prove itself or remind anyone how perfect it was. Paris I feel has all these incredible qualities. It's culturally rich and inspiring, it's so dense. It has so much character, so much personality. However, I also feel like Paris knows it, and Paris makes a large point of reminding everyone at every possible moment just how special it really is. It's hard to feel totally comfortable when you're being reminded every second that the place you're in is better than you!!
Don't get me wrong though, I loved it. I loved being there, I loved seeing the things I saw, I loved breathing in the spirit of a place that has moved the deepest parts of so many people. I felt the layers of paint being lathered onto my understanding of the world, and of people, and of art and passion and history. Paris was a wonderful experience!

We climbed the tower, first half with Brooke on foot, and the second half alone in the lift to the top. I wondered the cobble-stone streets which wove me through some of the most beautiful sites I've seen, buildings that made me ache they were so pretty, little french children dressed as alligators flitting about me in the park sounding even more perfect in their little french tongues than children do anyway. I saw stunning churches, St Germain and Madelaine were particular favourites- the latter becoming even more awesome that it was simply by bearing my name, by miraculously housing an art exhibition about creation which ended the day after I stumbled to its feet. What were the chances!?!?!

Brooke and I spent a day in the Lourve just wandering about... looking, watching, thinking, feeling. What a space. What an epic, epic space.

We went to the Chateau of Versailles, which was incredible. For a day I was walking around in a fairy tale, just a totally different world which was so far removed from anything I have experienced in my life, and so beautiful. The walls just dripped with decadence, but it was so beautiful, and really incredible to see inside the walls of a universe who's corners barely reach those of my own.

My last day in Paris, I was struck down again with the transition blues- that smack in the head I seem to get every time I move from one place to another. We were waiting all day for our train to Venice that night, and I spent the entire day wallowing about in my own special brew of woe... oh dear.
I was lonely and sad. I missed Holland and the life I had been living there. I missed loving people I thought I didn't know, but soon discovered that I knew them in a way which reached beyond anything I had experienced. I missed how that place felt like a kiss on the cheek or a hug that spreads out forever. I missed feeling accepted and loved and understood. I missed not feeling like I had to explain myself every 5 seconds. I missed being someone just by being me...
Most of all though, what made me so tired, made me feel like I had smacked nose-first into a brick wall, was that in Holland I was excited and moved and impassioned simply by being alive. Something in that place soothed me and told me everything was good, everything was alright. But now that I had left it- it wasn't so easy to remember those things. I had to rely on myself to tell myself... and sometimes I am not so reliable. It made me tired to have to drive the car and come up with the fuel as well. But, well, that's the way it is. I can't depend on outside sources to inspire me and give me purpose and motivation. I'm slowly working on taking what Holland gave me, and learning to apply those things to my life away from there. I'll get there soon.

We arrived in Venice early morning the next day, after sleeping one very rocky night in a train bed. Brooke had the bottom bunk, and slept the entire night with her body on a width-ways slope because of the hill our bags moulded by being crammed so tight underneath. I was so hot I thought I had died and been sent to Hades...

But, then we were in Venice. It is so beautiful here. I wrote postcards yesterday, and I think I set a world record for the number of uses of the world beautiful. But really, I don't know how else to say it! It's as though someone opened my chest, and with pincers, delicately extracted my definition of beauty from my heart, and with that, they moulded this city. Then they added about 100 million tourists, and removed all the easily accessible and FREE public toilets, and there you have Venice. But really, it's so wonderful it's not even funny.
All I do is wander about, letting the streets lead my where they think I should go. Mum sent me a quote from her Venitian cookbook "The number of times I went out in Venice was the number of times I got lost. But I was never really lost. You're always somewhere in Venice". it was followed by "go stick THAT in your blog", and I damn-well will! Because it is SO true. I mean, there's not so much, activity wise to do here, but I could not be more contented just letting my feet carry me around as the canals and tiny little alley-ways and balconies and washing lines and perfect cobbled roads just wash all around me and I drink them all up. It's really, really... wait for it... beautiful.

Yesterday I went to Verona, on Hadewig's advice, and was duly rewarded with an absolutely breathtaking little city. I loved exploring it. I saw Juliet's house, and wished I had a Romeo... sigh...

And now I pay WAY too much for the internet, so I will be done for now. I am taking a day's break today, so I'll go play more solitaire on my ipod...

Ciao!!!!

"in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or things i cannot touch because they are too near"

Well, maybe now I am ready to write about my epic emotional martini-shaker experiences of the past couple of days...? The only way to find out, is to try!


I haven't wanted to talk to anyone about it all, or even to think about it too much- it has been a long processing period, but I think I have now reached the point in that process where I can, and in fact need to, write about it a little bit!





So... well, I guess I'll start at the beginning, which is in fact, the day before 'The Party'.
Mechtild, Nuky and I all had breakfast together, before we jumped on the bikes and cycled into Arnhem. Here I bought my train ticket to Paris on the 25th, and there it was, on paper and in ink- Madeline is leaving Holland. Right in front of my face in a form that I can see and touch (and taste if I really felt like it...), tangible proof that this isn't just my life, that it is actually a holiday, a small period of time which is now coming to an end- well, changing at least. I'm so excited to go to France and Italy and Japan after that. I'm SOOOOO happy to see Brooke again and continue exploring the world with another set of fresh eyes next to me. But I'm also incredibly sad to leave this part of my journey behind me. Incredibly, INCREDIBLY sad.


How terrible that I complain about going to Paris!! Just as well I'm not really complaining!!!


Anyway, then we went to the market, where Mechtild and Nuky bought fresh fish, which were individually picked out by them, and then gutted and scaled by the guys right there before my eyes. Might I mention, these 'fish men' did not wear gloves while they went about their work, and I have to say, I pity the women they go home to and greet with those hands...


We had coffee on a terrace next to the Rhine River which also runs through Holland, and really, I couldn't be in a place any further from where I was trapped only last week. I could not feel more at ease and comfortable with these people. I look at them, and what I see gleaming back at me is my FAMILY- people who love and accept and embrace and take care of me because I am me. What a feeling that is...


Mum told me I HAD to try loempia while in Holland, so we made a reservation at a Thai restaurant in Arnhem that my new foster parents had always wanted to explore. It was here that we headed back to that evening (the bikes got a rest that night, as we took the car this time...). We sat in a beautiful garden by a fountained pond, under a large umbrella which protected our delicate skulls from the heavenly barrage of pears that rained all over us from the tree overhead. We sat for hours as the sun slowly crept into bed and the lanterns were woken from their daylight redundancy, and we ate beautiful food, drank lovely wine, and spoke freely and openly and plenty... Once again, I could just breathe the beautiful evening and the even more beautiful company and not choke myself all night.





Then... it was Sunday! Before I woke that morning, my dreams were studded with family members who sourced and share my Dutch blood. Great Oma wondered about in my mind probably the entire night, and a slice of my dream was spiced with spoken Dutch. I'll never know if it was ACTUAL Dutch... but the intention was there, and Mum says she reckons it was!!

So, I woke up, and I got ready, and I ate breakfast, and I wasn't TOO nervous! Ursula (Oma's sister) Hein (her husband) and Xander (their son) all came to Mechtild and Nuky's beforehand.

It occurs to me now how easy it would become for these meetings to, with time and repetition, become just ticks on a list. How maybe I could even be forgiven for it being so. But it just has not been like this. Every single encounter I have had with any family member has been so special and so personal and so layered. Not every time has it changed the face of my world forever, carving canals and niches I never knew I could carry- but every single time it has genuinely meant so much to me, and coated my heart in another layer of velvet.

So, meeting these three in the home I was staying in, having Hein joke and laugh with me as though he had done so at every Christmas dinner since I was a baby, having Ursula smile so sweetly at me I thought I would melt, having Xander sit with me and talk with me with so much love and calm that I felt I could never be safer... it was wonderful!



Then we jumped in the car, and off we drove, Mechtild, Xander, Hein and I to Great Oma's home to pick her up for her 94th birthday party. There she sat, in the sitting room, already made up, around her neck the owl pendant my Oma had sent her as a present. We went to her room and Mechtild sorted through the pile of birthday cards that cascaded off the table- dozens of little folded pieces of paper from all over the world, filled with words of love and hope and affection. How incredible it must be for such a woman as my Great Oma, to sit and look at yourself and your life, and see beneath you such a wide-reaching, diverse root system branching out for miles and miles across so many years, so many countries, so many many lives. What it must feel like to look at this entity and know that you created it. I can't even begin to imagine.

I talked to Oma with Hein as a translator, she told me that she would go to France instead of me, and I would stay there in her place. Here I was with the matriarch of half my world, and she was joking with me. There aren't words, there really aren't!



We walked with Great Oma up the tree-lined path to the restaurant where her party would be. I keep feeling like maybe there's not so much to tell- there aren't that many 'stories' about the day, but that is directly due to the biggest 'story' of all, which is just how natural and right and proper it all felt. It felt right for me to be there, and that is something I have felt so little in my life. To feel right somewhere, to feel like I am in my place, to feel good about being who I am- because being that person makes me part of something beautiful, and nothing more is asked of me beyond that. There I was, walking up the road, pushing Great Oma's chair, and that was where I was meant to be, and there was nothing odd or wrong or out of place about it- nothing awkward or doutbful.

When we got to the end of the road, a woman stood there with two children, and I saw Mechtild look at Xander, and I saw them both look at the woman, and I saw the children stare at Great Oma, until they finally ran up and kissed her. With sighs and laughs and kisses all round everyone raved about not recognising one another, and having no idea who had been facing them across the road. So it wasn't just me who had trouble remembering all the members of such a ridiculously large family.

And so it began. I spent the next couple of hours giving my mouth and neck a good work-out giving seven trillion air-kisses. I met family member after family member, and each and every time, no matter who was in front of me, the same thing happened. Either I would introduce myself, or be introduced, or further explanation would be needed "Madeline, the daughter of Melanie, the grand-daughter of Monique", but as soon as my identity was established a light would come over the person's face "OH! Ofcourse! Welcome!!" and I could see it in their eyes, see it in their smiles, that they really meant it, every one of them. I am part of their family, and I am welcome with them. Really genuinely welcome, in a way I couldn't doubt even if I wanted to.
So, I met more and I met more, and I am not entirely sure who I met, because there are so very, very many. Dedmer chastised me for pouring myself a glass of wine at one o'clock in the afternoon, and I jokingly said I needed to relax. I use the word 'jokingly' in a way I don't think the dictionary writers would much approve of. I know I talked about how right it all felt, and how welcome I felt, but it was still overwhelming. Never in my life have I met so many new people at one time, and certainly never have every single one of those people inherently meant something to me. I've never been very good socially, and this was one massive social-soup. So, maybe I was a little nervous... but I powered through. And, I did pour myself that glass or two of wine- after all, it was a Strategier gathering!

Jonas made me miss my brother as I talked with a sensitive, intelligent, insightful young man who never-the-less was still very clearly a 16 year old boy. Michael was sure that everyone spoke in English when I was around, so I couldn't chicken out of the conversation, and he made me feel equal, respected, as though I was just as worthy as anyone else this world might contain. Ofcourse, he squeezed this in between leaping and bounding and grazing his arm as he laughed and played and satisfied the insatiable desires of the children. Something I have discovered, particularly about the men of the Strategier family- they all have the hearts of children- there is so much playfullness, so much energy and life and vibrancy and an absolute refusal to let go of the magic and joy of childhood. This is something I've always respected so much in a person, the ability to hold onto that genuine and wholeheartedly joyful way of looking at and feeling the world. It's pretty damn special I think.
I wanted SO badly to talk to Felix. Something inside of me was just screaming "you have to get just a few words in with this man, or you'll be walking around with a hole in you forever". I got a few spade-fulls of soil in the hole. It's still not covered over, but I managed to tie him down for about half a second and I speedily and desperately told him how badly I wanted to talk with him, and how impossible he was to peg down- like jelly through your fingers. So he hustled me along "come, come, come" and planted me next to his seat next to Great Oma and I got a few minutes before he sprinted off again to keep entertaining, to keep spinning magic between the tables and chairs and trees. I don't know quite what it was I felt toward him, but still, even now, when I think of him, something inside me snaps and starts oozing something which I can only describe as liquid inspiration. That feeling I get in my stomach and in my gut when I see a film that changes my life, or hear a song that is so perfect I want to cry, or see a painting which is everything a painting can be... that's the feeling I have about this man, and I don't really know where it comes from, and I certainly don't know where it will lead, but I got to meet him, and it was special.
There's also so much creativity in the family, as everyone has something to share and a different way to share it. So much art, so much music, so much expression. It's a special thing to see, and an even more special thing to be a part of.

So, yeah, there I was. I was at a family party. My whole life I've wished I could be at these gatherings. My whole life I've lamented the distance that excluded me from this world. But there I was, actually sitting there, right in the middle of it. Dad said on the phone the other day "you really are a family girl, aren't you?". I had never really thought about it, but boy am I ever! I love it SO much, to a degree beyond measurement, sitting there surrounded by life and movement and happiness and activity and seeing between all this, these ties which are linking each and every person to everyone else. And those ties are linked to you as well... and it's just this whole other world- family. There are different rules, different laws, different expectations. It's not like the rest of the world, it's not like 'normal' social situations. You're just on a totally different planet when you're with family. And it doesn't matter if you don't know them, because you know them and that's good enough in such a world, and with such rules. I just totally love it. I love families and I love families together, and I can't wait to have a million kids and spend a million hours with them and with everyone else who has even the longest of ties attached to my belt!

Another really special thing about this whole family business- something I am only just discovering because of the petite nature of the slice of family I have back in Australia- is the way spouses and partners, husbands and wives fit into the puzzle. Every partner of any blood member of the family is just as much a part of the family as anyone else. There isn't even a trace of a line between the two, not even a residual remnant of some kind of division or point of separation. So seamlessly they melt into the world and become 'one of the clan', and for someone with very little experience of family outside the nucleus, this was such a pleasant and special surprise, and an added dimension that hadn't really occured to me but which has made me so happy to see.

So anyway, there's not that much to say anymore about it really. I spent five hours there with these people, and it was incredible and very, very special for me. It is something I will carry in my heart for the rest of my life. It is something I will forever be thankful for having experienced. It is one of those times that come almost to define you- as you look over your life and see what is most important to you shining like little beacons spread out across your entire experience of the world, and you can see who you are and what you've become.
I was so lucky to be there, and I am so lucky to be a part of this.

I said goodbye to so many, many people. Even though most of them I will possibly never see again, there was a feeling that I wasn't really saying goodbye. Maybe my brain just couldn't handle so much in one day, and ignored the fact that I was saying goodbye, but it felt like I was saying "see you tomorrow" or "see you next week", not "see you possibly, maybe, if I come soon to your country again, and you're around, or maybe if you come to my country, and you know and think to contact me when you do...". So, what this means I'm not 100% sure, but that is how it felt!

Hadewig and Dedmer came back to Mechtild and Nuky's for a while before they drove home. Ok, at this point in the day, there was not much left in little old me. I was wiped. It had been an incredibly overwhelming day and I'd soaked up a lot... and I felt, well, over-cooked. I lay on the couch, nearly fell asleep, ran up the stairs to cry like a baby, and blubbered more when I had to say goodbye to Hadewig and Dedmer again. It was hard enough the first time! I love those guys so much! I can't even begin to comprehend the fact that when I am back home, they won't live on the same land-mass as me. To feel like someone is so much a part of your life, but to know that they are nowhere near you is such a bizzarre feeling... one that my brain can't quite grasp a hold of.

Anyway, I said that painful goodbye, and thinking about it now, it begins to hurt again, even though I know now that I will see them in a few days- but then I'll have to go through it all again!!! I said that goodbye, and it was made awfully clear that I hate goodbyes and wish they didn't exist... and then I sat around, and ate some food, and went to bed... yep, that was my day!

So, there you have it, the party... I don't think there's more to add there... I think I said most of it.

The next day I woke up VERY late, cycled to Arnhem again, ate too much licorice again, ran into Nuky on my way home and followed him his long way back, and it was during this journey that I experienced the single most frustrating moment of my entire trip. Holland is flat as a squashed frog, but I guess the area I'm in is the knee-bones or something, because the only hills in the country are here. So, I'd already cycled 10 kilometres to Arnhem, then about 6 back to Oosterbeek and a fair way of this was up hill, and I cycled hard... ok it may not sound so difficult, I get it, but whatever, I won't lie to create drama... but then as we rounded off the journey, and Nuky warned me that his special route would present quite a hilly-challenge for me, I was determined I would not be defeated! No, I would make it up that hill. I've never really been competitive, but I've discovered that I am very much so with myself. How desperately I HATE to give up on something half way through. But I couldn't make it up that effing hill. I had to walk the bike up and it hurt like hell, and now, four days later, it stings just as hard... stupid freaking hill... but don't worry, I made up for it.

Next day, back to Arnhem to spend the day in BEAUTIFUL Sonsbeek park as I watch the children laugh and skip and frolic in the waterfall and on the grass and by the pond. I sat for a few hours, and I cycled around the whole park which really is beautiful, and really makes it clear that no one does a park like the Europeans.
And then the next day we rose, we ate, we jumped on our cycles and we rode 20 kilometres to and through Hoge Veluwe National Park, to Kroller Muller museum which is in the middle of the park, we looked at the art, and I was moved by how beautiful their collection was, we ate fruit and home-made apple pie after ordering massive soup-bowl coffees, and we rode back home 20 kilometers. That's right. I rode 40 kilometers. I think I'm allowed to be impressed with myself.
That evening Mechtild and Nuky helped me tick yet ANOTHER pivotal Dutch experience off my to-do list as we went to a Pannenkoeken House and I had a DELISH pancake with cheese, mushrooms and onion, and topped it with stroop (syrup). That's right, they put syrup on their savoury pancakes, and boy do they know what they're doing there! LEKKER!

Now, my family exploration up to this point had been a little one-sided! I have an entire Opa who had still gone completely unrepresented in this journey, and not a single van Kessel had been encountered. This was about to change! Opa's sister Elly made a date with me, despite trouble with her eyes that meant she saw everything double, and she told me time and station to meet her- "What do you look like? I'm small, and I have white hair, so you should see me".

Now came a drama that could only be such a drama in this family... I got on the train which was to be a direct train to Schagen, where I would get off and meet Elly. I sat on the train as it hurtled through Holland for an hour and 45 minutes. I made epic breakthroughs on the cryptic crossword I was doing, and I waited for the 2 hour train ride to be over and done with. The train stopped. The speaker uttered Dutch words which blew past my ears like icing sugar in a tornado. Some people got out of the train. I waited for the train to leave. The light in the train turned off. I thought maybe I should see what's happening, got out, asked the train man... and I had to be in the carriages in front... I sprinted, I ran like a mad-man, I reached out for the train... but it was too late, off he sped into the distance, and instead of me, he carried all my chances of arriving when I had agreed to and drove off to throw them in Elly's poor, waiting face. And ofcourse I didn't have her mobile number, and ofcourse when I texted Nuky to tell at least someone they were on a train too, and ofcourse they rang Opa and Oma back in Australia to get the number, and ofcourse they panicked and worried and desperately searched, and ofcourse when I rang this number, it was Elly's home number which was little help for contacting someone waiting on an empty train platform... so I waited for the next train, and I got out in Schagen, and I walked past a small lady with white hair, and I wondered... and I went back, and I asked, and with a mighty hug and a kiss she apologised for not knowing me- and I had arrived with yet another branch from my tree. Her daughter Eveline, her partner Ruud and their two lovely children were also visiting for the day, which was such a special surprise, as people who had seemed so illusive were suddenly right here where I could touch and hear and see them. It was yet the same here again. Instantly I was at home, instantly I felt a part of their world, instantly I felt like I slotted in somewhere and didn't jutt out the side like a goiter.
As Eveline talked to me I saw our shared history, the links and ties and intricate little connecting lines laid out before my eyes like a tapestry. It was so lovely. In Elly I saw my Opa so pungently. It was as though they had both been sewn from exactly the same cloth in only slightly different patterns, and in both cases they made a blanket which wrapped around me perfectlym and makes me so so warm! We had lunch together, and then I went with them to the beach. I family outing to the beach, with my new family! And it felt so normal. It was like I was over every weekend, and was just another part of the scenery, and even though that might sound... not particularly nice... I cannot think of anything more perfect in such a situation, anything more wonderful and joyous. Elly spoke to me like she'd known me all my life, and she made me feel no different. It meant so much to me to be able to know people from this other half of this side of my coin. Eveline's children were remarkable, continuously starting conversations with me despite the fact I could not understand them, nor they me. They played with me and chatted with me and a rather dominating thought that day was "oh my god... I want my own children SOOOOOOOOOOOO bad". Sigh...
We had dinner together, and then I was driven all the way back to Hilversum in the pouring rain. I had to say goodbye to Elly already, but just like at the party, it didn't feel like a goodbye, it felt like a 'see you later' and I guess somethings just run deeper than seeing eachother regularly...

So, after I ate myself some bread in Hilversum, and Malou had dried her hair, and Astrid had sent an email... they took me on one last moonlight-tour of their little area. We drove through the streets with the moonlight trying its best to creep through the clouds after a pretty epic storm, and we looked at the beautiful, stately homes of the Dutch rich, with wooded gardens and thatched roofs and very VERY high fences. It was a beautiful area. We went to a ice-cream parlour which is apparantly the most famous in Holland and had some killer 'ijs'... mmmmmhmmmmm... mooi lekker. We went to the rich part of town, and sat on a terrace and drank dry white wine together. I felt high-class. It was lovely.

This morning we went to the airport, Astrid, Myrthe, Malou and I. Marc was landing in Amsterdam from London, dropping off some of his living supplies in London before flying to Qatar to find where he will live for the next two years as he works there. Myrthe was catching the train to do a university exam, before she went to her friends house and flies with him to London tomorrow. Malou got back from France the day before yesterday, and she and Astrid would drive me and my luggage back to Doorwerth after we finished at the airport... hooooweee! So, Marc had a little bit of time between flying in and flying out, so we all met for coffee and breakfast, and this was the last time I would spend with this family all together. This family who opened their home and their hearts to me without the blink of an eye, who provided for me, looked after me, took care of me like I was one of them and had been forever. They showed me nothing but unwavering love and kindness and support. Without them, my stay in Holland would have been a drastically different one! I was so lucky to meet them all, I learned so much from each of them, my life is more whole having known them and shared this small part of my life with them. They're all such strong, resilient, independent, insightful, wise, intelligent people, all four of them. They live their lives with so much passion and comittment and with such open, honest hearts. These are people who really know how to get the most out of everything, to squeeze every last drop of goodness out of something, and how to add the sugar where it needs to be made sweet... Really, my time in their home and in their lives has made me such a better person, I've been inspired and moved and educated in ways I didn't expect, and ways that have changed my life.
Astrid is so strong- a pillar of strength and fortitude. She is so wise, and her heart is just a pulsing centre of love, kindess and warmth. Marc is so generous and caring, so quick and sure to look after everyone and lend a helping hand. Myrthe is so intelligent and so unassuming in her insight and her knowledge of the world and of people. Malou is so vibrant and energetic and alive, she has so much joy and is so honest and genuine and real. Every moment I spent in that house was so refreshing, to see real people being themselves at every single moment. There is no bullshit in that house. There is never any call for anyone to pretend. Everyone is accepted, everyone is loved, no one is asked to change or to fill specific criteria. They have built a home where people are free to be people, and not expected to act in any way other than that which comes naturally to them. That's so beautiful.
I was so lucky to be there with them, so lucky to meet them, and I am so lucky to be able to call them my family. It hurt to say goodbye. How I hate goodbyes.

I was driven back to Doorwerth, and here I sit now, with no more 'news' to share.

"But every time the tide, come in to take me home, I get scared..."

Oooooohhhhhh Holland, how I love you!


Every day here is so precious and wonderful. Each second however, is dragging me closer and closer to when I have to leave... and I am starting to get scared! I'm SO not ready to be done with this yet... I really love this country, I love the places, I love the people, I love the life that I live here. I love the way I think and feel and experience while I am here. I don't want to leave all that behind. But, such is life. I suppose I will just have to figure out how to carry all that with me, rather than feel as though I am turning my back and stepping away from it all.



Anyway, quite a lot has happened since I last wrote, I have been a busy girl! Let's begin the recount!



So, on Sunday, Hadewig (my Oma's sister's daughter), and her partner Dedmer picked me up from Marc and Astrid's in Hilversum. It was a packed schedule that day, as we drove to Den Haag and I speedily acquainted myself with my beautiful (and SPACIOUS) new home for the next couple of days, before we jumped back into the car and with the help of the oh-so-homely Australian accent of the Tom Tom made our way to the coast. The Dutch beach- so loved and desired by Hollanders... certainly not an Australian beach. But it was nice.

Now, I have to admit... I was nervous. STILL I hadn't been able to get over all my stupid fears and doubts and worries. Mum said to me at one point in the midst of my endless neurotic email-rants that I berrated her with day after day after day, like the never-ending air raid from Hell, she said "It must make you tired, worrying all the time what people think of you", and she could not have been more right... sooooooo tired. In fact, life becomes one giant yawn! Ha ha ha... But really, it is such a waste of energy and brain-power. It just drains all your battery life, and I end up flat and lifeless like a rag-doll.

However, as much as I know this... well, it didn't help to know it! Hadewig was so beautiful and vibrant and full of life and Dedmer was confident and energetic and strong... and all I could think was "oh my god, I will never be cool enough to pull it off with these people".



And their lives are so impressive. They're always moving, always doing something. We went to a BBQ which acted as a reunion for Hadewig's RopaRun team. A team of... I don't know, maybe 25 people- some were runners, some were cyclists, some were drivers, some were caterers and some were masseurs- they travelled from Paris to Rotterdam to raise money for people with cancer. This is such a small example of the incredible things they have moulded out of their lives, the amazing and inspiring little models they've cast from the clay of their being. So much committment and effort for such a wonderful cause. Hooooweee I wish I could say something like that about myself and my life... maybe one day. I plan to make it so.

Anyway, it made me slightly more scared, to see that this would be the first impression I carved out for the latest additions to the family album I'm compiling in my memory and in my heart. Being already quite socially awkward... the language barrier only magnifies the problem probably, oh, I don't know... a million-fold. I got pretty good at pretending I wasn't completely socially inept... but this was only when the people around me spoke my language. When people who have gathered to relax and have a good time, have to constantly think and analyse and grind their brains just to include me in a conversation that I won't have anything of value to contribute to anyway... well, it basically doesn't run all that smoothly, and I usually end up folded in the corner with an awkward, aching grin pasted above my chin. I try, I really try, but it's a skill I have yet to master.

Anyway, there was another tag-along, a South African lady who turned up and we both enjoyed feeling as though we were present there, and just being able to weild our native tongue guilt-free for a while.

It did make me happy that Hadewig felt like she could share that occassion with me, that I was something in her life that could be brought along to an event like that. I was someone, and I could be seen!



It also stroked my worried, quivering little soul (and if I'm being honest, I guess my self-esteem is a bit of a player in all this too), that Hadewig took the next two days off work to show me around. I was still quite worried that first day, I was still a while off settling into my own skin. We cycled to the market, then to the city centre of Den Haag, where we saw the Parliament buildings, beautiful cobbled squares and alleys, splendid light trickling through the trees that lines the streets. We cycled through beautiful gardens, past the Queen's palace, through the dunes to the beach where we sat and ate-surrounded by meandering naked bodies peppering the 'normal' beachogoers. We went to the Panorama Mesdag- the biggest panorama in Holland. It is a massive painting of the beach and neighbouring city that surrounds and engulfs you and comes to life all around you. It was as though the essence of this place, the Hague itself, the atmosphere, the life and work and play of this space and time, it had been captured and condensced and then lapped all over the walls, and there we were, breathing it all in. It was actually quite moving, aside from being technically spectacular and breathtaking. It made you dizzy to look at it too long- the sheer realism of it coupled with the fact that the sails and the waves and the sea-gulls don't actually move like something that lifelike should.

It was art not merely reflecting the world, but building it up around us- concentrating it and hitting us with a triple dose. It was beautiful.

Slowly I began to dissolve the film I'd wrapped myself in, and I started to be able to move my joints again. I was so happy to share this time and these moments with Hadewig.



Dedmer too was SO kind. I am inexpressibly shocked at the kindness these people have continually showed me. Especially these partners. It was the same with Pieter back in Amsterdam. The connection between Dedmer and I was pretty much a fraction of a hair on a fly's butt... but he put so much effort, so much thought, so much kindess and selfless generosity into ensuring I was happy and comfortable and safe. It was incredible, inspiring and deeply touching that someone could be so welcoming and kind and could embrace me so open-heartedly without any 'obligation' (in whatever sense of the word...). There are so many good people in the world, people who are good because it's good to be good. People who are kind and giving and open and loving, not because they have to be, and not because they get something for it, but just because their hearts are giant, pulsing centres of... goodness! It really does inspire me, and makes me desperate to achieve such a presence in the world and among people.



The next day we went to Delft. What a beautiful city! Already, my stresses were being thrown off behind me like Hansel and Gretel's breadcrumbs... slowly but surely I was leaving all that shit behind me. I felt so much more comfortable, and it meant so much to me to share these spaces, these moments with this woman whom I was really beginning to love like a sister. We went to the Prisenhof (?) museum, the Old Church which was beautiful and serene and dripping with history and culture. We had lunch at a cafe by a canal, and I could sit and suck in the Delft air, full of richness, density, history, culture, depth and beauty. The whole town smelt of rich, earthy yeast because of the yeast factory situated there and it only added to the pleasure, to the earthly humanity of the beautiful, layered city.

We saw the Vermeer Museum, had coffee and cake which tasted about 200 times better because it was freeeeeeeee! We went also to the New Church which was beautiful as well, and we climbed about ten million steps that wound and spiralled to the peak of the church where we stood and gazed out at the expanse of wonder around us.



One of my favourite things that I have found here in Holland/Europe, is the role that history plays, the form it takes. There is SO much history here, more than the child of such a remarkably young nation can even comprehend. Every crack and corner is lathered in it. But the people don´t place it all in a glass container and observe it with a yard-stick in their fingers. They walk around in it, they breathe it and touch it and taste it in the air. It´s a character in their lives, another person they interact with every day, not a distant, abstract idea. I think it´s very special, and I love it!



As we stood up there on the Church tower and our thoughts and words and memories drifted out and mixed with those of hundreds of years worth of hundreds of thousands of people, I felt this incredible sense of being part of something, of being present, of being alive in this world. Hadewig was my family, my kin, Holland was my country, my home, my past, my present- and I have no doubt in my mind, a significant player in my future. 'Twas lovely!

By that evening, as we ate a ridiculously late dinner which I had tried with all my might, but spectacularly failed to prepare on time, the walls were well and truly gone, and those stupid voices had choked and passed out in the corner. I was so comfortable, and so relaxed, and my experience there with these wonderful people was real and true and not marred by neuroses and worthless, wasteful paranoia.

The next day I went to Leiden which I was to witness through an almost inpenitrable wall solid rain. But despite the ridiculous amount of liquid all around me, I was very contented and very happy there. Leiden too was so very beautiful and rich and satisfying. I ate too much chocolate, too much ice-cream... and came home to a wonderful night of Wii action with Hadewig as Dedmer embarked on three hours of real-life sword combat training. What a lovely surprise to find that my inhibitions had moved elsewhere, and I could just have fun and laugh and be free. What a lovely surprise to find that here too, I had a home.

The next evening I was taken to Voorburg to meet another of my Oma's sisters, Virginie, and her husband, Martin. Before we arrived at their house we went on a desperate search for food, the finale of which saw us eating take-away Thai on a park bench with plastic bowls and spoons bought from the supermarket. I would recommend it to anyone stupid enough to ask for my recommendations...
It was lovely to sit in Virginie and Martin's home- to look around and see animals crafted by my Oma; to cast my eyes downward and see the exact same Ikea table that adorns Opa and Oma's living room, and then up to see the same little storage drawers (also from Ikea, which if I didn't know better, I would say is the only furniture shop in all of Holland...). It was lovely to sit and hear stories about my family, spoken by my family, with flecks of speech and turns of phrase and bends of voice that I am so used to from my family. It is so lovely to constantly experience these moments in which I feel part of something, part of a world and (an entity almost) that doesn't define me, but definitely adds something profoundly to my identity and to my sense of self.

That evening I had to say goodbye to Hadewig and Dedmer, as I would poke my head from the bedroom loooong after they had left for work the next morning. Oooooohhhh the emotion! I was SO sad to say goodbye. It is an odd dimension to this whole experience. I come here, and I find these people who fit so perfectly in the empty seats in my heart. They'll sit in these seats, and I'll carry them forever there. But in finding them, and in tying a string so tight from my heart to theirs, I then have to turn my back and leave again- and as special and as precious as it is to collect these strings, as I walk away they pull tight, and it stings. I wouldn't want to go through life without the strings, so I'll accept the sting as an inevitable and DEFINITELY worth it side-effect, but it does hurt when I have to leave people I've grown to love a lot.
So, it was sad to say goodbye. Even though it's only two nights now until I see them again... but the point is that this time that I could share my life with them is over, and it's sad... but as I said before... such is life. It's ok. The pain is worth the pleasure, and then some!!!
I was so happy, so comfortable, so contented and at home and warm in their house. What a special time...

I am now in Doorwerth, with Hadewig's parents, Mechtild and Nuky. Two wonderful people, who I have loved already for a long time now, and here I am also SO very happy. I think the bricks of my walls have been put into permanant storage now for a while, and hopefully won't see the light of day for a while. But I am so comfortable here. Not even once have I worried. I am just free to be myself, and I don't have to watch and worry and wonder. I can just exist with two incredibly kind and accepting people who show me only love. Tomorrow I can spend with them, and then Sunday is the big party- Great Oma's birthday where the family gather from all over the globe and hopefully I will hold my own alright, and represent for the Australian faction acceptably! I'm excited, also a little scared, but not in the same way as I have been. Not in a crippling, self-deprecating way, but in an... excited way!

Anyway, that will be a blog on it's own I reckon, that party, so stay alert!!

Thanks for reading...

"Two birds on a wire, one says c'mon and the other says I'm tired, the sky is overcast and I'm sorry..."

Ok... what has been happening in my world since I last wrote...? Maybe that's not a question to be asking anyone else...





Well, when I left you I was still in Amsterdam. I spent a couple of days wandering about. I went to the flea-market, saw the Hermitage Museum which only opened about a month ago, explored the student hang-outs, perused some book-markets, got tired and sat around Anne-Marie and Pieter's house...


Anne-Marie took me to see Harry Potter at the Pathé Tuchinsky, which I believe is the oldest cinema in Amsterdam? If it's not THE oldest, it's pretty far up there, and I reckon it wins out overall in terms of grandeur. It was a fabulous theatre, so beautiful, so much attention to detail, so much love and care and thought into every curve and bulge. Like Anne-Marie said, it was too bad the movie had to show in the dark!


Every moment I shared with Anne-Marie was so special... these are encounters, moments, experiences I will carry in my heart forever.





The next day we went on a good old-fashioned family outing to the zoo! Anne-Marie, Pieter, Suze, Louise and I all trekked around Artis zoo watching the animals... I really felt like part of the family. It's so special to be in an environment that you can just totally relax into. These people welcomed me wholeheartedly; they carved out a comfy little basin for me to curl into and I could just settle there and didn't have to use all my energy trying hack out my own niche, or prove that I could.


The highlight of the zoo was the butterfly house (no no no, I should say vlinder huis!). It was beautiful and magical! Butterflies totally kick arse!


Then I got my hair cut by a very sweet Russian woman 30 seconds up the street, who charged practically nothing, and left me with about the same amount of hair!





Then it was back to Hilversum for me. It was very emotional to step onto that train and have it whiz me away from this woman who I really feel I shared something with. I had tears pricking away at my eyelids and a big chunky lump scratching up my throat.


It was a special experience to come into the home and the life of someone who has always been an almost spectre-like figure in my life- who has always been present, but has never been there. She knew my mother in a way and at a time that no one else on this planet has. She has known me in a way that is totally unique and special to our situation, and even though I can't find the words to express it, meeting her and knowing her and having her treat me with such unhindered kindness, generosity, honesty and openness... it was something I will never forget, and I will always treasure.





Back in Hilversum I pretty much slept like a log and sat around like a dead cat for a day and a half, and then it was off to the Efteling!!!





For those who don't know it, the Efteling is a theme park- Netherlands style! There are various rides and attractions... I'll explain more as I delve into the wonder and perfection that is THE EFTELING!





So, Myrthe and Malou were taking me to my new favourite destination IN THE WORLD for the day. We got up early, packed our bags full of sustinance, and trundled off to the train. In Holland time, it was a fair distance, maybe an hour and half?... (I know, I couldn't even get from home to Sydney in that time, but here that's like, a third of the way across the country...) and once we got there... boy-oh-boy was I in Heaven!


I've only ever been to one theme park in my life- Wonderland. My memory of that place is that it was sticky, dirty, smelly, uninviting, unfriendly, stark, austere and unpleasant. The Efteling is like a little oasis. It's like you've stepped through the looking glass into some kind of mythical fairy land! There's so much love and care there. They haven't just parked a whole lot of machines near eachother to throw people about in the air and hope they don't notice how hideous their surroundings are. They've built a world; a beautiful magical world that you can totally escape into. There are a few rollercoasters, and each one is heavily themed. It was an incredibly crowded day, so lines were long and ate up time like a well-seasoned sandwich, but even while you're waiting, you're being marinated in an experience. One roller-coaster-the Flying Dutchman- was based on old Dutch sailing ships... pirates and ale and all that jazz. The line wove and meandered through various different rooms throughout the belly of a ship. You crept down a long hall as 'fires' blazed above your head, plumes of smoke curled around you and sailors screamed instructions to eachother; you slowly inched your way through the dining room as beer glasses chinked and Dutch drinking songs drowned out any other noise. It wasn't just a ride, it really was an experience, and you are totally emersed in these worlds for however long you're waiting, and then the ride itself is made all the more... whole. And the coaster itself was totally freaking awesome. Who knew I was into that sort of thing? But adrenaline is a person's best friend I reckon... it grabs your lips and pulls them so hard you have to smile, and it pumps laughter through your chest until you ache with happiness.





But it's not all roller-coasters. What makes this park really wonderous, I think, are all the different worlds that have been constructed purely to explore. My absolute highlight is the 'dream flight'. We had to wait about 40 minutes in the line, but once we got to the end, the wait completely melted away, and we were well and truly in another universe! You sit in a little carriage, which carries you up and around a world filled with trees and flowers and vines, and from nearly every branch, and on nearly every stone is perched an intricate fairy puppet that waves, or flutters its wings, or plays a little flute- and you just float around, watching it happen. I felt like a little girl again- I felt that little hand tugging at my chest, that little person who hoped so hard it hurt, that if she stared long enough at those little plastic wonders- one would eventually move- it would smile at her or wink. A space has been created there in which you can forget all the things you've learned about the world, and about reality, and you can see the magic that has slowly faded away with time and age and disillusionment.
Fairytale Forest was another favourite as we walked through a stunning wood, and around each corner was another story, another world, as Little Red Riding Hood knocked on her grandmother's door, or Hansel and Gretel ducked behind a candy house and the witch screeched from the doorway.


We also bought a LOT of candy, and I made myself gloriously sick on licorice. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.....





I won't bore you with too many more details about the park, because I fear a lot of it will be lost in translation. Basically, it's beyond beautiful there, and if I could live there and just explore it every single day for the rest of my life, I would be SO happy and SO contented... I'd never... ummmm... I don't know, it would rock! It was so much fun... and I'm ready to go again!!!





Ahhhhhh... next day I was on my own, and I spent my time cooking, listening to my music (possibly a little too loud considering the ridiculously close vacinity of the neighbours on all sides), and getting myself locked out of the house through sheer inability to tackle the lock and having the elderly neighbour achieve with a single turn of the key what I couldn't with 15 minutes of desperate and concerted attempts.





Next day I was off to Utrecht. It's an odd thing to get used to, travelling on your own. It's a totally different experience. Sometimes it's actually a great deal harder not having to take anyone else's needs or wants into consideration. I'm stuck with only myself to form a decision, and sometimes that just spins me in circles like a top... and I end up just creeping back to where I started with my tail between my legs. I find myself to be excrutiatingly lazy, and unless I really try hard to push through the initial layers and curtains, then all to quickly I'll just settle and stagnate... take the easy option, which all too often means doing nothing, or doing too little. Anyway, I'm trying. I'll get there!



So, in Utretcht I first went to the 'Nationaal Museum van Speelklok tot Pierement' which in a trip so heavily sequined in museum trips shone like a little jewel sewn lovingly in the centre. It was about music boxes, and organs, and all types of automated instruments. I wandered about looking at the perfect little boxes with their lovingly crafted cases, and images, and their intrictate cylinders studded with twinkling teeth that would whiz and whir and make the most soul-dizzying melodies. I followed along on the tour which meant not only did I get to hear a lot of Dutch information... but I also got to hear a lot of the instruments play. Ooooohhhh... how I love such things. The little tinkling boxes, the giant booming street-organs, the ear-drum boxing carnival organ. There was an organ that also had three violins inside, so as the pumps sounded the organ melody, they also spun a wheel and pumped the violins forward and backward so that they too played their own tunes. They just don't make things like that any more...
So, I guess I never knew I was THAT into these things, but I've learnt it now, and I think my children will have a vast collection of music boxes to acquaint themselves with when they come into the world!

Utrecht was beautiful. I think it's far more beautiful than Amsterdam- and Amsterdam was stunning! These European cities are so vastly different from those back home, or in America. So much prettier, so much homier, so much more welcoming and human.

I went to the Dick Bruna Huis and hung out with Nijnte (Miffy) and her buddies for a while. That was pretty great.

I managed to convince Myrthe to spend the next day with me at her heels. We rode the bikes through the woods, to a castle where we sat in the beautiful gardens and had coffee. We then rode some more, through more woods up to a town about 6 kilometres away. I was so happy, just cycling through the trees. The air was so fresh and real, the scenery was so perfect and welcoming. We parked under some trees and sat for our lunch. I found some walnuts that had dropped from the branches, cracked them open and chowed down! Fresh walnuts, from the tree they grew on! Too cool. It really was lovely.
I still have some fear, that I'm not impressive enough or interesting enough. I am remarkably terrible at small-talk and chatting... and time with me usually means quite a lot of silence. I just hope, and hope and hope and hope that these people, my FAMILY, that they feel something a little bit like what a feel for them. That they feel a little piece of that inherent, automatic love... that it doesn't matter so much that I am really quite dull and a bit of a wet blanket sometimes... because there's something there that goes beyond all those things that seem to trickle away through my fingers. But, I'm also happy knowing that at least I feel that! That I can come here, and meet these people, and feel a thread running between my heart and their's. Maybe that's good enough, and I don't have to worry about anything else...

So, basically, I'm having a terribly wonderful time in the Motherland! It's a very unique part of the trip- it doesn't really feel like a 'trip' as such. I just feel like I'm here, in this place, living my life for a month or so. It feels so natural, so relaxed, so comfortable. I really feel at home no matter where I am or what I'm doing. Even when I'm walking the streets and cannot understand a word of the static surrounding me, or when I'm cycling and have no idea what the sign is telling me to do, or when I'm helping a lady in the supermarket pick up the stuff she spilled all over the floor and I'm just smiling and nodding at everything she says to me, hoping she doesn't notice my total ignorance as to what she's saying... nothing feels out of the ordinary. It all feels normal, it all feels right. Sometimes I forget I'm not from here, I forget that really I'm from an entirely different world. Really and truly, sometimes I just totally melt into this place, and I can't see anymore where I end and it begins.
You should see me on the bike when a car comes near me on the road, getting all self righteous and uppity because this stupid auto is all up in my space- what right does a car have on the road anyway!?!? And do you think I'm going to wait to let him by? Ha ha ha, no way bucko!

So... tomorrow I go to Den Hague. Maybe I'll see the Queen. We can have cheese and I'll recite all my Dutch words for her.

Thanks for reading.