I got up wretchedly early in the morning to catch a 6am flight to Amsterdam. Rather than getting a cab or walking all the way up to Waverley to catch the airport bus, I caught the N22 bus, which stops right in front of my flat. It took longer and I had to share it with drunk people for part of the way, but it was cheaper. The line at the KLM counter was stupidly long because the entire Scottish youth ski team (or something) was also getting the flight. But I made my flight and got to Amsterdam safely.
From Schipol Airport, I took the train. The original plan was to take the train from the airport to Arnhem, and then from Arnhem to Winterswijk, but I got on the wrong train at the airport and ended up in Utrecht. Luckily I was able to get to Arnhem from there.
The cold snap that had most of continental Europe in its grip last month had eased up a bit by the time I got there, but it was still frigid. It was early afternoon when I got to Winterswijk, and I walked the five minutes to my B&B, checked in, and then explored the town a bit.
I love small Dutch towns. There's something very cozy about them. The houses are quite close to the street, and one can see straight into people's living rooms and kitchens. And there's a sense that people don't mind you looking in - that they're content to share a bit of their lives with you. There's also the fact that absolutely everyone rides bikes. There's something about that that just exudes safety and neighborliness to me. Maybe it's the fact that for a very long time, the only place I ever saw anyone ride bikes was the neighborhood in east Durham where I lived from age three and a half to age 14.
Winterswijk town square:
I had managed catnaps on the plane and also on the train rides, but I still took a proper nap at the B&B before going to the venue where Barrage was playing that night. Barrage is a band with five fiddle players, a guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer. As of last December, my cousin Shaina is one of the fiddlers. Here she is!
We had dinner in town between sound check and the concert, and caught up on over a year's worth of events in both our lives. Even when we're both in the US, she lives in San Francisco whilst I live in North Carolina, so we don't get to see each other that often. So it was incredibly, awesomely great that fate brought us near each other this weekend.
After dinner, we went back to the venue and I met the rest of the band and some of the crew. I sat in the booth with the sound guy and the lighting guy during the concert, which was amazing. Barrage ain't your average violin group. Aside from playing music from all over the world, they run, jump, dance, and sing throughout. There is also a fair bit of instrument-swapping. At least two of the fiddlers also took a turn at the keyboard, the guitarist played fiddle at one point, and another of the fiddlers also played the tin whistle and the bagpipes (although not at the same time)! When I heard him warming up on the bagpipes before the show, I momentarily thought I had fallen through a wormhole and ended up back in Scotland. It's a very high-energy show, and I loved it.
The stage from where I sat:
Afterward, I hung out backstage with Shaina for a bit, had a beer, and just chatted about this and that. Neither of us wanted to part ways, since it's so rare that we get to see each other and there's no telling when we'll see each other again, especially now that I live in the UK. It's at times like these that I feel acutely just what I've left behind in order to be here. I'm grateful to be here, but I do miss my family. Especially the family I don't get to see that often in the first place.
When the band and I finally left the venue, it was pouring down rain. They were able to give me a lift in their van back to my B&B, thank goodness, and I collapsed into bed after a very long day.
On Sunday the 19th, I had nothing in particular planned, so I spent the morning wandering around Winterswijk. All the shops and many of the restaurants were closed because it was Sunday, but the place where Shaina and I had eaten dinner was open at lunchtime, so I holed up in there and did all the academic reading I had brought along. Then I wandered some more, and eventually ended up back at the same place once again for dinner.
I left at mid-morning on Monday the 20th to start the journey back to Edinburgh. I went to the train station, only to discover that the ticket machine only took credit cards and coins. No banknotes. I had to go into the station cafe to exchange a 20-euro note for ten 2-euro coins. Ridonkulous. Then it was back to Schipol via Arnhem (no mishaps this time), and then back to Edinburgh.
Me and Shaina!
Cheers, y'all.
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