The one time in my adult life when I was in Amsterdam, I was there on a trip which had been won by the sales team I was part of in a recruitment company.
Weirdly it was the same weekend as the Diana funeral. On our arrival we were met with the news that Mother Theresa had died... It kind of set the tone.
On Saturday morning, we weren’t allowed to go and explore the city until after we had all gathered in the hotel room of the Sales Director to watch and comment on the funeral of the blessed Diana. Afterwards, we split into boys and girls groups. The boys of course were forced to trail through bars. I kept looking for opportunities to duck out and visit the RijksMuseum or Van Gogh Museum, but they didn’t arrive!
The mood of the day was somewhat dampened as every bar had a TV in the corner... but they all had live coverage of Diana’s funeral cortége as it drove through London and up the M1 with people throwing flowers at it. We all clearly wished we were somewhere else. We had never really bonded as a team back in the UK. It was just weird.
Of course Holland isn’t No.2 because I didn’t visit anywhere else apart from the UK until I was in my mid 20s... just that it was the only non-UK country my Dad would visit. I think this was because in his weird post World War 2 view of the World, all German’s were still Nazis and Holland was OK because Anne Frank suffered at the hands of The Hun (he wasn't a complex person). Therefore, when my internationalist Mother was looking for a trip overseas it was Amsterdam or nowhere.
Weirdly it was the same weekend as the Diana funeral. On our arrival we were met with the news that Mother Theresa had died... It kind of set the tone.
On Saturday morning, we weren’t allowed to go and explore the city until after we had all gathered in the hotel room of the Sales Director to watch and comment on the funeral of the blessed Diana. Afterwards, we split into boys and girls groups. The boys of course were forced to trail through bars. I kept looking for opportunities to duck out and visit the RijksMuseum or Van Gogh Museum, but they didn’t arrive!
The mood of the day was somewhat dampened as every bar had a TV in the corner... but they all had live coverage of Diana’s funeral cortége as it drove through London and up the M1 with people throwing flowers at it. We all clearly wished we were somewhere else. We had never really bonded as a team back in the UK. It was just weird.
Of course Holland isn’t No.2 because I didn’t visit anywhere else apart from the UK until I was in my mid 20s... just that it was the only non-UK country my Dad would visit. I think this was because in his weird post World War 2 view of the World, all German’s were still Nazis and Holland was OK because Anne Frank suffered at the hands of The Hun (he wasn't a complex person). Therefore, when my internationalist Mother was looking for a trip overseas it was Amsterdam or nowhere.
Over two or three trips from 1981-83, we explored Amsterdam, Delft, a miniature town made up of small buildings with toy trains running around it and Keukenhof (pictured with me at the tender age of 8). This is a giant bulb garden park.
Of course, there may have been other reasons why my parents wanted to visit Amsterdam, but my therapist tells me I’m not ready to explore them, so we’ll draw a veil!
Of course, there may have been other reasons why my parents wanted to visit Amsterdam, but my therapist tells me I’m not ready to explore them, so we’ll draw a veil!
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