Garden cocktail party

Hi team! Well, like I wrote yesterday, it’s been an amazing few days in Amsterdam. Very jam packed with fun and also with a lot of organising for Friday’s party. It’s now Sunday and I am writing this in the car, parked outside a big farmhouse where mum has to do a photo shoot at an 80th birthday party for a friend. I went inside to say hi for a minute, but it was crazy noisy in there.  And somehow one of my ears is currently blocked, which makes having a conversation very hard in such an environment, too.

I rather sit here with Macky and some tunes and reminisce about the last few days. 

Last time I wrote was Tuesday morning, when we had that incredibly big rain and thunderstorm. That afternoon the weather became fine, and I spent most of it looking out of the train window on the way to Amsterdam. I got there early evening and Phizz and I enjoyed some Thai on a terrace, in the sun. It was quite warm and pleasant. However when we got home and I started getting ready to ride to the Amsterdam Dance Centre for a jazz class, it started pouring down, so I decided to take the tram.

Armed with a rain jacket I went outside, but the rain had stopped falling, though the streets were flooded and I had to walk around a few massive puddles to get to the tram stop, where I got almost run over by a rushing fire truck, which was causing tidal waves. It was very hot and muggy outside, and also in the tram. Halfway to my stop I saw what the fire truck had been rushing to, the street had flooded so badly (you couldn’t see the road anymore and the tram was driving through ankle-deep water) an electrical box had caught fire and was billowing a putrid smoke. Quite amazing to see such intense rain in the Netherlands, it barely lasted fifteen minutes. Dutch rain is normally long and slow.

On my walk to the Dance Centre I encountered a wet, disoriented rat, who had obviously been flushed out of its hiding place. I said: ‘hello, rat.’ But it didn’t reply and scuttled away. Then I enjoyed a very nice contemporary jazz class, which was quite a challenging and made me realise I had not done any jazz since I was 15. That’s half my life ago! But it was great. I really love dancing and I hope that when I get back to Australia that I will be able to find some good dance classes to attend. 

Afterwards the evening was mild and Phizz and I enjoyed a nice late-night stroll around the park, after which I hoped to sleep soundly. I had been having trouble sleeping in Elsendorp the nights before due to the ‘fun fair’ which shakes up the town annually and plays terrible music until deep into the night. But unfortunately a mosquito decided to choose me for its meal that night and kept me awake most of the night. 

Wednesday we came to the sad conclusion that my planned garden cocktail party for Friday was going to be completely washed out, the weather report gave my planned party time a 100% chance of rain...I had already tried to find an alternative location, but unfortunately there just wasn’t anywhere indoors that was suitable or available. So we came up with a plan B: A party tent, tarp and a patio heater! 

Phizz rented a car and we took a trip to a massive hardware and building warehouse, something like Bunnings, and bought some great supplies for the party. We spent all day driving from one place to the next to get everything we needed, cocktail shakers, muddlers, jiggers, straws, you name it, we got it. Then when we got home we did some gardening and weeding to prepare for the feast.

Wednesday night I had planned to go to the Lyrical Hip Hop class at ADC and Phizz offered to drive me there and work downstairs during my class and then drive me home again, which was very sweet. In case you hand’t come to this conclusion yet: Phizz is the most generous and sweet and caring person, he’ll do everything for everyone. 

So I did my class, with my favourite teacher and enjoyed it so much. We did two bits of choreo, one of them was to The XX’s song Shelter, which is one of my favourite songs by one of my favourite bands - and the cool down was to Jamie Woon! It was amazingly fun. Afterwards we went to Egypt for a midnight snack. In case I hand’t explained this yet: down the road from Phizz’s there’s a snackbar owned by a very nice Egyptian man, and Phizz frequents this place often. But since the snackbar doesn’t have a name displayed anywhere, we call it Egypt. It’s not actually in Egypt!

Speaking of food, my lovely mum just came and delivered a big plate full of lovely salad and things from the party for me to eat here in peace. So nice!

Sleep was better this night, and we spent Thursday out grabbing coffee at SOK and then eating lunch at Buffet van Odette. Afterwards we went home and I decided to go for one final bike ride because I knew I wouldn’t be able to ride again before leaving: there just wasn’t enough good weather coinciding with available free time to ride anymore. So off I went, one last ride through my now beloved Amsterdam, along the canals, past the Westertoren, to enjoy one last cappuccino from my beloved barista (and it turns out, two time national barista champion) Sander from SOK. It was one amazing coffee. I have never encountered a barista that could make such good coffees with such consistency. He blows my mind, and he is a very nice guy, too. I have to say I am quite in awe of him. 

So, then it was home again on the bike and time to set up the garden and house for the party. We managed to pitch the party tent (3x3) with our combined amazing tent-pitching skills, and then I tried to convince Phizz that we should also hang the massive tarp (4x6 meters) over the rest of the garden, because I desperately wanted to keep the party dry and cosy. He was quite certain it wasn’t necessary but indulged me and we spent a good few hours struggling with ropes and knots and succeeded in getting the garden party ready before meeting Stella and Vincent for drinks and dinner at the Mint Hotel. 

Of course, Thursday was quite a lovely day weatherwise, and so a drink on the roof top terrace of the Mint Hotel was very pleasant. We enjoyed some dinner afterwards, and then Phizz and I watched our last movie together. Well, in Amsterdam, that is. For now. We watched Cowboys and Aliens, which was sufficiently cheesy for a nice end to a good day. Unfortunately, the nice feeling didn’t last very long, as just after we passed a tram stop, we heard a bang and our taxi driver exclaimed as he looked in the rear view mirror. A cyclist had been seriously hit by a tram, he was two meters away from it, on his back, looking completely limp and it felt horrible just driving past and not being able to help. I felt quite upset by it, and it didn’t help me in my attempt to get another night’s sleep.

On Friday morning, as the clock hit nine, the clouds decided they weren’t done dumping rain on us and we witnessed another loud and impressive thunderstorm right over our heads. I was so glad we had put up that tarp. 

We spent all of Friday organising for the party, hanging up lights, setting up the music, getting the glasses we rented and doing some supermarket shopping, while my mother made all sorts of lovely hors d’oeuvres in the kitchen. The afternoon was dry, and even a little sunny and we were hoping it would stay dry for the evening.

The party itself was fantastic. It was small and intimate, and I had asked everyone to please bring the ingredients for their favourite cocktail, so we had quite a few to try out. Of course the elusive Vanilla Pie (this was my signature cocktail for the night), which I had been trying to find in Holland but couldn’t, was much loved by many, and it turned out my sister is very good at coming up with cocktails on the spot. Phizz’s cousin Olly had arrived for a visit for a week just before the party, and joined in the merriment. And my lovely cousins from Utrecht also made the trip and it was so nice to have them there. There were fluffly pink clogs, a slug invasion, many cock/mocktails, some rain, lots of friends and lots of laughter. It was a wonderful night. I cannot remember how many cocktails I had, but the next morning, I found out that it might have been one too many.

Saturday, August 27th, 2011, at age 30 (nearly 31) yours truly had her very first hangover. Yes. So for breakfast I thought it appropriate to eat the leftover profiteroles from the party, and they were perfect. A bit soggy, just right. We also ate some cherries and strawberries. 

They boys (Phizz & Olly) had offered to drive Stella and myself to Elsendorp on their way to Brugge, and after some tidying and returning our rented glasses (I can highly recommend hiring glasses for your next party, it’s cheap as and you don’t need to wash them!!) we were on our merry way. I, slightly headachy and generally feeling a bit worse for wear, was allowed to ride shotgun, which I much appreciated. Turns out driving and hangovers are not a good combination. But, Phizz, Olly, Florence and Stella are a good combination - we had a very entertaining trip together. We stopped along the way at a service station to get some supplies, and I thought a Lion bar would be sufficient lunch, but Olly wanted to try getting a snack out of the wall. (See my post Slow Sunday from 19/6)

I had convinced him it should be a satekroket, which he enjoyed and he offered me a bite. Of course after one bite I could not resist and had to eat one myself. So I did. Then there was no more stopped and we both enjoyed a brogue frikadel after that. Perfect food for a hangover!

The drive back to Elsendorp with the boys and my sister was extremely enjoyable, lame jokes flowed easily and laughs filled the car. When we got to Elsendorp, I lit the woodheater and we sat around the table for some more pleasant conversation with mum, and afternoon tea. The boys left to journey on to Brugge for the night (and to “pick up chicks”) and Mum, Stella and I had a very quiet afternoon, with some chips and broodjes knakworst for dinner. It was an incredibly relaxed Saturday.

Sunday morning was quiet with a pleasant breakfast of croissants and bacon and eggs, in true Ietje/Stella/Florence style. It was a nice lazy Sunday with some pottering around the house, after which we drove to Den Bosch to drop Stella off at the station and Mum and I headed off to this party.