Back on Track
After the most significant and painful delay in the history of le blog publishing, I can only imagine what kind of thoughts have been occurring in the minds of the loyal RC readers. Here we sit, long after the sparklers of July 4th have been extinguished – and yet still no word, not even a single tale of adventures dating back months…seasons in fact! Do they even remember what happened in May? Have the inhabitants of Rue Cassette, overwhelmed in their final months abroad, fallen more drastically behind in their pursuit of the Paris Bucket List (PBL)? With the countdown clock on the RC homepage stuck motionless, have they given up le blog completely? Did they just move back to their homeland without telling anyone, too overcome with grief to even report highlights of their last memories?
The answers to those questions are surprisingly simple: No, No, No, and No. Not even close. The explanation for this nearly inexcusable delay can be divided into roughly two categories, which should become clear in the blogs to follow. First and foremost, we had some serious PBL business to take care of, and we tended to air on the side of creating memories vs. reflecting on them. In May alone, the greater part of the Northern Europe and Scandinavia met this “He Who is Named Like a True Norsk, Yet Strangely From America, Yet More Strangely Living in Paris”…which in turn created plenty of good content (and heritage) for the entry below. Second, it turns out (surprise, surprise) that the process of repatriation from France to USA involves a little more than dropping an apartment key in the mailbox, and soothingly petting Ole in our laps during a trans-Atlantic, homeward-bound flight. So much more in fact, that if anyone even mutters the words “bathroom paint” or “water damage” around me in the next decade, you are likely to unleash a monster that will remind you that, I have indeed, obtained a certain mysterious darkness that can only be learned from a French expat experience…
But I digress… After your patience, we owe you photographic eye-candy and good heritage, and that is exactly what you are going to get from May. In checking off some big weekend journeys from the PBL, we visited revered lands where, upon hearing my name…people smiled with acceptance instead of staring blankly (and adding, “Who?”). After all, sometimes you just want to go where everybody….gets your name. A place where the souvenir mugs are custom-made and inspired by the names of you, your brother, and…your cat. Alas, Netherlands, Norway, and Sweden….here we come.
Not-So-Shady Netherlands
I’m here to tell you that we’ve all basically had it wrong regarding the Netherlands, in particular with Amsterdam. You simply say the word “Amsterdam” to someone in my generation, and there will likely be images of anything but wholesome thoughts…the Red Light district, Drugs (e.g., “Space Cake” from “Coffee Houses”), Drunk People, and it’s own city flag that doesn’t exactly help…it’s marked with XXX. I must admit, that my previous work trip to Amsterdam in 2005 did not help my own perceptions. Our business dinner (which, contrary to popular belief, I did not choose) consisted of us eating our meal horizontally, on beds, with the “entertainment” being a drag-queen sketching temporary tattoos on the guests. BUT, this, I’ve since learned since May 2009, was not Amsterdam. This was the equivalent of the crusty exterior of a Paris-style baguette tradition, which, when cracked, gives it’s way to soft, beautiful, perfectly chewy reward. I think we found that reward when heading outside of the central train-station (tacky?) part of the city, and onto a charming, peaceful, Amsterdam we never quite expected…
Take for example, the canals and quaint streets off the Prinsengracht near the Anne Frank house. I believe it’s justified to call the sight a grown-up, sophisticated version of the town of Bruges (see le blog of August 2007). On a warm spring day, we found these parts of Amsterdam always easy on the eyes…
Coffee-houses, schmoffee houses. If you look for ones that actually served coffee, you will be rewarded with nice canal views, nice cafe, and if you are lucky…some spiced gingerbread.
If you are timing it to optimize the positive, a few reasons why I would personally recommend a May visit to the Netherlands. First, the blooms from the trees that line the canals are released in the wind, creating a feeling that it’s light, temperature-less snow covering the cobblestone and the waters. Think snow without the cold – which is choice, and makes for an ideal setting fro strolling the sights…
Something you will see in any time of the year, but in full-force in the spring – is the biking action. People in the Netherlands do not believe in cars, they believe in bikes. And when you get on one yourself (we’ll get there later), you will believe too..
Now this storefront artwork isn’t particularly relevant to Spring timing per se, but shows spring-like renaissance undertones, and likewise prompts some pretty big questions. Questions like “In an election, would Anne Frank or Barack Obama win?”, or “Was this the real winning ticket?”, or “Is Joe Biden, deep inside, kind of a girl?”, or perhaps even “Is the single-breasted suit the key to transcending generations of hope?” I’ll leave you to navigate your own interpretation….
But speaking of winning tickets, I bought two of them at the entrance of “Keukenhof” – which roughly translates to “The Magical Kingdom of Tulip Hell”. And now that the final-copy editor of le blog, Shannon, just punched me in the gut – I realize there is an alternative interpretation. What I really meant was, “Kingdom of Tulip Wonderland, The Center of Awe in the form of Fairytale Tulip-Scapes”…But regardless of which translation you choose, let’s be clear that this is, a reason for a May visit to the Netherlands. Even if you happen to, by chance, miss this particular spectacle, you are bound to witness some great-looking bulbs.
Skagit Valley…allow me to introduce you to the competition…
And all you Dutch, pretty, early-thirty-somethings…let me introduce you to your competition…
When they hit the market, these freshies keep their color. And at what cost? At 50 tulips for $10 USD, let’s call it roughly 20 cents a tulip (assuming the Euro holds, that is). My conclusion: a bargain at twice the price…
Extended Family-Time in Groningen
What’s even better than a May-timed visit to the Netherlands? Well, any visit timing that coincides with extended family living there, allowing for some otherwise elusive insights on real Dutch life! Such happened to be the case with my cousin Krisi (the youngest of the immediate McGee clan), who is teaching at the University of Groningen, in….you guessed it, Groningen.. This darling of a town is in the northern part of Netherlands, right about here…
Even better luck, my Uncle Charles and Aunt Kathy (Krisi’s parents) just so happened to be on an extensive Northern European conquest, and shared some quality time with us…starting with a little deck cocktail party on Krisi’s terrace.
Cousins and sigs photo op! From left to right: Wiebe, Krisi….and well, I think you may recognize the rest…
Now, about that local insight, and the promised segment on bike-riding in the Netherlands. What’s not to love about everyday bike riding in general? But thanks to Krisi, this wasn’t just your average single-riding experience. One of the most important Dutch tricks of the trade we learned our first night in Groningen was how to ride casual doubles…a technique commonly deployed when you have about half as many bikes as people. Here we are gearing up….
And here is Krisi telling Shannon “honestly, it will be OK” (with Wiebe offering some light-hearted support as well)…
And where the emotional support ended, the practical demonstration began. A simple running start, a jump and twist of the backside, a minor gluteus correction on the rear-wheel platform (via subtle balancing and scooting) – and you are off and running toward your destination!
Now, I’ve seen Shannon’s comfort level in any type of transport that exceeds the speed of a young child’s tricycle…and let’s just say it isn’t usually high. But I am sitting here today a witness to a changed woman, who now freely embraces the adrenaline rush of the casual double ride through the small towns of Holland…captured here in a raw moment of serendipity by Uncle Charles (also on bike at the time!)…
When trying to find a place to park your bike, you start to get the feeling that people ride double for a reason…
Krisi wasn’t the only one teaching us Dutch traditions. After several visits to Groningen, Uncle Charles had a few tricks up his sleeve for his nephew – some involving refined forms of firewater that are best sipped without hands…
But what about the windmills, cheese, and wooden shoes? Well it just so happened that a scenic, Sunday-afternoon bike ride brought out some other highly anticipated, old-school Dutch windmills – the perfect backdrop for a cousin pic…
And that very same afternoon on the slightly “scenic route” (read: major mis-navigation) back to Amsterdam, we ran right into the town of Edam, famous for its cheese of the same name..
If you ask me, this town could have earned its reputation without the cheese, with its equally aesthetic charm. And did we happen to pick up any wooden shoes while there? Perhaps that is a reason to return, and with sights like this, you won’t have to twist my arm…
I’m In Love with A Norwegian Fairytale
Last time I checked, my heritage from Norway, in bloodline percentage, runs in the very high 40s, the majority count being barely cut short by my one sixteenth Scotch-Irish from my grandfather. Suffice to say I’m allowed to round up to a declaration of “half Norwegian”, and probably could get away with more if I had a second cat named Sven (Note to self: consider getting Ole a playmate, may induce weight loss, via competition for food or exercise from territorial defense). With this much of Norway brewing inside my family, we’re going to jump at good opportunity to visit the homeland. And in May 2009, that is precisely what happened.
That is where Eli and Harald Østenfor, pictured on the left in traditional Norwegian outfits enter the equation (my parents, on the right, are pictured in traditional REI and Eddie Bauer outfits). For Eli’s 60th birthday surprise party, Harald sent invitations to family and friends far and wide, across many lands. Those of us Johnsons living within a 2000 mile radius of the target location (also including some aforementioned McGees) found ourselves asking Harald – how do you say “IT IS ON!” in Norwegian?
And so there we were, enjoying the endless hospitality of our Norwegian family, friends, friends of friends, and people that may have been either family or friends, but they spoke the word, and gave big hugs. Our gracious hosts for the weekend were Emil Østenfor (son of Harald and Eli) and Hanne – who brought us into their home in the center of Oslo, fed us, and deserved every single ounce of the “Tousand Tak” (thousand thank-yous) they were given! We were joined by other delightful Østenfor guests, Fabien and Amelie who arrived from Switzerland. And now for who is who, starting left and going clockwise – Fabien, Emil, Hanne, Shannon, and Amelie.
Oslo was impeccably clean, sunny, beautiful, and just plain fantastic. Here you see the Vigeland sculpture park…
And me showing my empathy for my ancestors, I too know what it’s like to bitterly wait for a bus …
More highlights – the chic waterfront promenade, with great restaurant terraces overlooking the water…the shopping district, the wide sweeping streets and transportation galore. We didn’t have nearly enough time to do Oslo justice, but what we saw…we loved!
The party itself was held in the smaller town of Kongsberg, about 2 hours outside of Oslo – where the Østenfor family calls home. Kongsberg may not have fjords, but it has for itself shimmering natural beauty (a la below) and a critically-acclaimed annual jazz festival…
This is an event that the McGee clan, already having descended upon various locations of Europe (including Paris – seen separately), would not miss. To prove it, here are Uncle Charles and Krisi in a father-daughter pose…
As for the foreign contingent (us), we had some new Norwegian customs to learn – the first of which was a kickoff party greeting with bread and water. I get it, like “water” you say? No really – mountain-fresh, cold mineral water. Ahh…..waaaater, I get it. Then Charles told me to just roll with it (no pun intended). And there we were, taking a picture of ourselves eating bread and water.
I’ve already introduced you to Emil on the left – but of equal importance (and from the perspective of Johnson exchange students, legendary) was none other than Nils Østenfor, who stayed with us in Seattle when Bjorn and I were in High School – and attended our beloved Roosevelt as a senior. You may be looking at a true Norwegian, but you are also looking at a man with significant Roughrider pride.
During the surprise party there were Jazz numbers, speeches, family musical acts (including two from my mother!), tasty beverages, family poses, guy time, girl time and overall merriment…
With such a rapidly expanding and globally dispersed Johnson / McGee family, you can’t say we had accounted for everyone…but we did a pretty good job of representing! From left to right: Krisi, Charles, Kathy, Shannon, moi, Mom, and Dad.
And we did what was most important of all – connected with our favorite Norwegian people! We have the Østenfors to thank for their enormous hearts and hospitality!
But before we departed there was one other special globally-attended event, that was perhaps missed by the television sets on the other side of the Atlantic. I’m referring to EuroVision 2009, the song contest that brings a musical soloist or group from every European country – in an attempt to define a new rising star and European Pop anthem of the year. Norway’s contribution anthem, “(I’m in love with a) FairyTale” was sung by a young fiddling, dancing heartthrob, Alexander Ryback, and was rumored to have a shot at the top honor. I’ll let you first be the judge in this month’s integrated video experience…
Was it just our lucky timing, or was it just a happy ending to a fairy-tale adventure to the homeland? Because the winner was, by a landslide, record-breaking victory…
Going for a Quarter More in Succulent Sweden
With Norway fresh on the mind, we thirsted for more Scandinavian adventure. And last time I checked on the Swedish component of my heritage, in bloodline percentage, it was somewhere in the mid-twenties – which is clearly sufficient justification for a visit to legendary Stockholm. So within a matter of hours aboard Air France, the flags turned from red and blue to a familiar blue and yellow…
With Stockholm located just a tad up north, apparently weather can be a factor. Therefore we had close advisors from the area recommend a more “thawed” season to visit, specifically as close to June or July as possible. We obediently saved our pilgrimage for the very end of May, just nudging June…and I think with the section of photos to follow, you will discover that this choice was WISE!!! Welcome to the maritime wonderland…
Stockholm was like a postcard series that never ended. Charming, sunlit squares lined with classic architecture and open air cafes…
And my oh my the water. Like a distant cousin of Seattle, the whole city is constructed around water – with the locals using ferries, boats, and canoes as friendly alternatives to roads. When the temperature rises, the city just lives on the water – soaking up rays while watching a virtual parade of boats pass by. No better example of this than the waterfront cafe “Sea Club”…
Which we NEVER would have found without some prominent locals to show us the ropes! May I re-introduce you to Ryan Cameron and Isolina Sartini – our good friends, and on this particular weekend, fabulous hosts that showed us the Stockholm hits one by one. Ryan and Isolina also lived in Paris as Microsoftees (recall the Feb 2008 blog) until they decided that Sweden was a more appropriate venue (which, we must admit – was controversial at the time but now much better understood). Here we are toasting to the “typical” weather at the Sea Club..
I found we adapted to the maritime culture pretty effortlessly…
It’s easy to have pride in Sweden on a day like this…
On our Rick Steve’s tour of old-town Stockholm, Shannon met someone that was more aligned with our vision of the town locals…
And something that I could never have found on my own (even with Rick’s guidance) was a gorgeous (yet secretive) garden terrace at a local cafe in the center of town. For this I must give proper credit to my Swedish family friends Emma and Klara – who are Stockholm gurus and gave me a full list of their favs, many of which were thoroughly appreciated – thank you ladies!
And the tasty delights! While one has a tendency to associate Swedish cuisine with pickled fish, I urge you to change your perceptions, with cafe-fare such as our personal favorite…the widely available (and super-tasty) cinnamon bun. A fierce competitor to the Top Pot glazed donut…
And the evening waterfront dining, offering oh so much more than Swedish meatballs! The anticipation…
Now for possibly the most shocking part of the post-dinner stroll along the waterfront– the sunrise. Yes, you heard me correctly…the post-dinner…SUNRISE. I’ve had some late nights in my day…even a few stretching into those wee-hours where sunlight is a distinct possibility. But when you are heading home at a reasonable hour, and you see a full-on sunrise in the distance, you realize that ‘we’re not in Kansas anymore’….
Stockholm provides exceptional day-tripping possibilities – especially to the string of beautiful islands on the archipelago. With Ryan and Isolina again our fearless guides, we hopped onboard a ferry and headed out to sea…
The results were nature-ific….
The whole island adventure is a must do, especially when you complete it with an evening meal with a panoramic backdrop…
And of course, a sunset toast! A special thank you again to our gracious hosts, Ryan and Isolina…and my forefathers for settling upon this fine land!
No Waiting Around…
With memories like this, one thing is for sure – May was hard to let go. But just as the sun comes up before you know it in Sweden, June was already on our heels, and was bound to be equally as action packed! OK, OK – I realize this is easy for me to claim in an anticipatory fashion, it already being July and having a pretty good idea what went down…but if you stick around in the near future we may just give you a look!
In honor of my Scandinavian heritage, I wish for my name to be pronounced Pī-guh.