As it's Queen's Day in The Netherlands, the Dutch helpdesk can hardly expect any calls flooding in. Most Dutch employees will have the day off, and the English helpdesk can take any 'overflow' calls today if the need arises. But it's not a bank holiday in England, so really we're expected to work all the same. The management thought it'd be a good idea if we did arrive at the office. Not to work as normal though - this is a team building day. Last year, the entire Dutch team holed itself up in a board room to play games and such. This year, a much better idea: let's go canoeing! I'm excited really. And I got to work before 7am, leaving my house at 5.15 and getting up at 4.30. Oh well, it's not like I have to do it every day. I hope!

Alright, I am an utter nerd for having my own website at my own domain. For a good while at least, I used to be. When I moved to the UK in late 2006, it became difficult to remain with a Dutch web hosting company, but it proved more difficult in getting the domain hosted in the UK. While I remained owner of the domain, the web hosting package expired and my site went offline. Today, finally, it's back. And very much out of date as you can see by the screenshot..

GTA San Andreas isn't an addictive game. I have no trouble just leaving the computer turned off, watching tv or doing something else completely (nudge nudge wink wink) instead. However, once the game is on, it's almost impossible to stop playing it. There is just too much to do. It starts off in a town like Los Angeles and it's as big as the real world city methinks. But when there's also a San Francisco, a Las Vegas and a whole lot of outback to explore.. Well, even though I have to use a rocket pack to get there and get shot down by helicopters and tanks (I suppose I should have brought my visa?).. It's worth it. But is it worth staying up until 4am for? Nahh. Nicking a limo though, rolling with homies in Vagos country, hell yeah. Or maybe, actually, come to think of it.. Perhaps I should be sensible.

But this is harder than it looks and it needs bloody doing..



Mind you, why is it that, when I am indeed being sensible reading the Guardian on the bus home from work, all I can see in the corners of my eyes is them damn Ballas fools?

Wednesday last, I finally got my provisional license application in the post, to the DVLA. Including my Dutch passport and a cheque, I sent it recorded delivery and trudged into town to do some shopping with Lottie. When I found a Lloyds TSB between the post office and the shops, I decided to pop in and clear my overdraft with a cash deposit - so the cheque would not bounce. So long as my salary isn't being paid into the account (another long story), it's all I could do. Or so I thought, because I was kindly informed my account had been blocked for fraud protection. If I could just show my passport, it would be fine though. I walked back to the post office immediately, informed I was there less than 10 minutes ago, and asked if I could have my letter back please.

"Sorry, the bag containing Special Delivery items has been sealed, and it would be illegal for us to open it." I thanked them kindly. Not a problem though, I thought.. The letter will be at the DVLA tomorrow and I'll just ask them to send it back upon receipt. So on Thursday, I phoned the DVLA. "Due to industrial action, the DVLA today offer a limited service." Nice, a message on the phone. And then the line went dead. I tried again, and again it went dead. What other option then, but to send them an e-mail..

Dear Sir/Madam,

Today you have received my application for a provisional driving license, inclusive of my passport. However, problems have arisen at my bank, which would mean the cheque will bounce. Also, I need my passport returned to me as soon as possible. Due to industrial action I cannot get through to you at this crucial time, but any urgent action would be greatly appreciated!

And today I got the eagerly awaited reply..

"Thank you for your email. I can confirm that your application will be processed before the cheque is presented to the bank. If there is a query with your cheque we will then get in touch with you. Provided you have submitted a valid application, you should receive your driving licence with in approximately 15 working days and your passport within the following 10 days of receiving your licence. I hope this is helpful. Kind regards."

You hope this is helpful? I told you the cheque will bounce unless I have my passport.. Now unless my application is succesful I won't have my passport back for a good month or so. Yes, that's very helpful, thanks. But it's a Friday afternoon, so nothing will be sorted before the weekend. I decided to mail back, possibly phoning if they're arsey on Monday.. Good grief.

"Could you please cancel the application process? The query with my cheque cannot be resolved unless I present my passport to the bank, and I can't do so unless my passport is returned from the DVLA. I will then apply again. Much obliged if you could send me back the passport as soon as you can!

My colleague showed me some amazing pictures of galaxies colliding. Scary stuff, these tiny pictures of systems so enormous. But it is food for thought: if planets and galaxies do the same things that atoms and electrons do in a much tinier spectrum.. What if every electron in our world would be a galaxy, and our world merely an electron in another world - and what if that is how the universe is indeed infinite? Hmm..



Source: HubbleSite

My girlfriend has horses. The internet has a horsey forum. The horsey forum called a competition: the person with the most posts today will win a chocolate bar and a ticket to a horsey do. My girlfriend gave it a good go since 2pm, and another after I go home, but unfortunately didn't quite manage to post a record number of posts (she's number 2 with 97 posts though...) She did however down a bottle of red wine in record time, while already battling with a slight concussion her horse bestowed upon her yesterday. The upchuck would make for good entertainment on Youtube - but I'm doing my best to remain a good boyfriend ;o)

Lottie was so enthusiastic at last Thursday's Richard Maxwell demonstration, she shot nearly half an hour's worth of video - on my photocamera. Too large to post on Youtube, my weblog will have to instead. You cannot watch this clip full-screen, but by clicking the 'compass arrows' in the right bottom corner, can see a larger version in a new window. This also leads to other clips of mine - please ignore ;o)

As a call centre employee, I tend to work in bursts. One customer calls, I solve an issue or put a ticket through, and I wait for the next call to come in. Between these, I sometimes manage to write a blog or browse a bit, but anything requiring sustained concentration is impossible. Even filling in my time sheets is a struggle. My job, I feel, has made my mind more chaotic and cluttered than ever. Therefore, this wee blog entry is merely a post-it to myself.

Check the taxback payment is 2006 or 2007, then arrange with bank and SNS..
Oh and play some more GTA San Andreas :P

I can't remember, but I am sure there was something else important not to forget..

The internet shop Holland at Home is frequented by the Dutch contingent in Manchester, as a convenient way to stock up on much missed Dutch produce. Amongst other things, it has chocolate letters and marzipan at the holidays, clogs, syrup, cooking oils, butter, cheese, alcohol, books.. But not everything, as I noticed when I was back in The Netherlands. I wrote them, but unfortunately they cannot deliver it. So here's a wee testament.. Look out for the links interspersed with text ;o)

What I would not give for the leisurely pleasure of cycling to Albert Heijn, to buy Tivall vegetarian pate. Lottie too found out it tastes wonderful on bread, toast and crackers, especially when accompanied by a glass wine and interspersed with Danish Blue and Brie on other crackers. I know, I'm snobbish, but what can I do? I can't get anything the like in the UK. It gets worse.. A few years ago a Dutch dairy producer made an advance into the lucrative vegetarian freezer section with Valess. The dairy-based alternative for meat blasted Quorn out of the water. Err, actually, I quite like Quorn, but how wonderful is it to have more options? Here's a commercial for Valess (click 'afspelen' to play), and you can read more about it when you click here..

Another luxury I can no longer hope to buy is Dutch alcohol, in its most enticing varieties. A year or so ago I did buy a few bottles of La Trappe at Tesco Metro in Manchester, but I haven't found them since. The best I can get is Grolsch, and while I'll gladly settle for it, I'm snobbish enough to only buy Dutch-brewed Grolsch. In my defence, the UK brewed version gave me a headache, and most chemically laden lagers do.

Anyway, I have to stop! It's midnight, Lottie's home all excited from a horsey do and I need my sleep soon!

6.10 AM. "Wakey Wakey" spoke the little bag of Oat-So-Simple as I grabbed it out of the box. Alright, it didn't speak, but the announcement was in big bold letters. "Aye, wakey bloody wakey" I replied and ripped it apart, drowned it in milk and microwaved it for two minutes, before scoffing it warm. That'll teach it to be so pedantic. And it was yummy, I have to admit. Our cat Bumbleina agreed, licking the bowl clean. Having this sort-of-porridge in the morning reminds me of my days at secondary school, where I used to eat Brinta before cycling 10 miles to school with my dad and wee sister. It reminds me also of feeling quite stuffed and bloated with it, but thankfully Oat-So-Simple agrees with me better.

Tuesday morning however, does not agree with me. First of all, I noticed I didn't have enough change in my wallet to get a bus ticket. Walking to the ATM at the garage, the needed bus of course passed me on the road. Had I had the change, I had had the bus. I bought the Guardian and chewing gum to tear my tenner into pound coins, trawled to the bus stop and stood still. First buses 8 have a slogan on them, stating "Every ten minutes or better" but it should be "Every ten minutes? You should know better." I stood for twenty minutes. The bus then took thirty five minutes to get to town, where it normally takes ten less. Really, I should sue First Buses for sabotage - it's not decent anymore. As a result, I had missed my connection to the Stagecoach 104 as well as the slower alternative, the 43. I wasn't looking forward to grabbing another 43 bus at a quarter to eight, so I decided on a taxi. It overtook the 104 bus on its way to Wythenshawe, but I didn't fancy asking the mute driver to drop me off at a bus stop to save me £5. I got to the office five past eight or so - not bad considering I only start at half eight. If I could start early, I could re-coup some of the taxi money. There were plenty of people queueing on the phone lines..

However, things got progressively more annoying. Last week Friday morning my PC had crashed and a colleague replaced it while I worked at a different desk. On Monday morning I noticed the replacement PC was 'disabled' on the office network, so I got that sorted - and in between taking calls at my temporary desk tried to install the necessary software on it. Today, I thought it'd be ready for use, but after a successful logon and starting a few programs, it froze. I spent some time trying to fix it but barged to my temporary desk soon enough. "Sorry Sander," I told my deputy team leader, "I won't be starting early, it would appear." He didn't say anything, possibly because of my thin lips, flaring nostrils and red eyes. Thankfully I could take my first phone call at half eight.. "Can you blah blah blah? I know you blah's blah bla'd for a colleague of mine, and I need the same treatment on my PC." I answered I had no idea what he was on about and things got progressively worse from then on. Again. Then my coach popped up and advised I shouldn't always go the extra mile for the customers, as it's affecting the statistics of my performance. You could bet on no one gaining an extra mile today.

Though this is becoming a long blog entry, it's nowhere near as long as this Tuesday. In the afternoon, I got good news via my girlfriend though: the mail has arrived, and GTA San Andreas is among it. I might just grab a virtual flame thrower and kill a lot of virtual people agoningly slowly tonight.

Amazingly, looking for the pc game "Grand Theft Auto : San Andreas" on Amazon, I browsed on and on to a Dutch book site, where I found a book I knew and loved in my youth. It's about intelligent kids making it through secondary school basically. But just how early Nineties is this cover? :D

A mystery bus seems to leave just ahead of my usual 104 these days. The 767 to Newall Green isn't on any schedule at any stop, let alone its route. Sat at the top back of my 104 this morning I glanced over my shoulder, and caught the 767 following us down Brownley Road in Wythenshawe.

Not very interesting, no. But I do wonder why there are now 4 different routes to Wythenshawe (43 down Oxford Road, 104 and 105 via Princess Parkway and 767), none of them fast.

I read this story in the news today (click here). Apparently internet service providers in the UK are miffed with the BBC, as their iPlayer leads too many customers to downloading massive content. The network cannot cope. Can I just say how pathetic the ISP's are?! I did see Virgin Internet (cable) advertised 'glass fibre' speedy internet and boasting there the only glass fibre provider in the UK. Very interesting though if they can only offer a download speed of 24 mbps, and an upload speed that's far less. In the Netherlands, in the relative backwaters of Nijmegen, I could get 10mbps cheaply. And unlike Virgin's 24mbps, it wasn't dependent on how close or far you live from a phone or cable substation. The upload speed was the same as the download speed, a huge advantage if you like using Youtube, Flickr et cetera. The maximum speed, still affordable, was set at 100 mbps when I left for the UK.

What bothers me about UK ISP's is how they dare NOT invest in a proper glass fibre network anywhere, even experimenting on a small scale is beyond them. They do however castigate content providers like the BBC for making t'internet too interesting. Perhaps they misinterpret the IT term 'backward compatible' - you don't need to be backward to be compatible. Well, perhaps if like Tony Blair you want to be compatible with the US. The North Sea is wider than the Atlantic for some.

I'm on the lookout for a first bike and quite fancy an Aprilia Pegaso 650 Trail or a Caponord. But today I found one more reason to love Aprilia bikes. So what if they have a range of scooters - they're not bothered. :D

Original image on the Aprilia UK website.

Yesterday night I had nightmares, thankfully a rare occurrence. After the first one, which was so sick I'd rather not mention it at all, a second nightmare was about me and my father. We were on a trip together and got to a large building a bit like the Manchester Arndale centre. The inside of it though resembled an empty office block more like. It's main attraction was a long descent in its cellar. A single rope lead down a manhole, the only way in or out was to climb the rope. And why would you? The hole had a reputation for being a dead man's pit: living convicts were thrown into it, and if the fall didn't kill them starvation would. The bottom of the pit therefore, still covered in bones, was reputedly haunted. For some reason, I decided to descend and of course, when down there, could not find the rope again. To be honest, it was a bit scary down there..

On the other hand, Lottie woke up this morning with our cat Bandit gagging up mouse remains right in front of her face. Nice..

I spent most of Tuesday at my mum's home, though it was anything but boring. For one, I had yet to finish 6 33cl bottles of Leffe Tripel. A very enjoyable beer, but at 8.5% alcohol it's the equivalent of 2.5 bottles of wine. I started drinking early, so I could take a regular dose rather than overdose at any point. Ah sod it, after the first they came thick and fast.. I also cycled to the local Albert Heijn supermarket, to stock up on Valess vegetarian meat and Tivall spreadables - and a cooling bag to take it with. It will probably be alright in the aeroplane. Also of course, I worked on the computer some more to copy my pictures and music, and in the meantime packed my bag and fought with Creon the cat.

When I went to bed at midnight or so I kept the window open a bit, as I could feel a Leffe headache gently getting stronger. It worked, though I hardly slept probably due to the cold draught. Not cold draught Leffe, but still uncomfortable in bed. I pretty much woke up at 3, snoozed until 4 and then got up. While shaving (at 4.30 in the morning for feck's sake), my mum woke up too. Or well, got up at least. The poor woman felt cold and could barely keep her eyes open (she had gone to bed later than me), but as I needed to get to the train station before the buses start.. She wanted to drive me there. At 5.20 or so we got to the trains, leaving 5.35 and getting to Utrecht and on to Schiphol. The only thing that bothered me there was sitting in the waiting lounge quietly reading magazines - only to be joined by two Liverpudlian teenage girls. At first, I couldn't make out a word they said among them - I wondered what language they spoke until they started bitching off every 16-year old or so boy walking past. Oh and being asked to pay 3.50 euro for a Red Bull and 2.50 for a glass of milk, at the bar. Bloody hell, they can shove that. Anyway, I was back at home in Manchester before I knew it, saying goodbye to Lottie's dad as she came in from the stables. The house is as though nothing changed while I was away. Unfortunately in many ways, that's not a good thing really :o)

You could think my visit to the Netherlands follows a cynical list of required visits. In reality, I genuinely miss each person I visit - and the more people I seek out, the more I realise 'to miss' is to feel pain. Last night, I went to bed missing Lottie in heart wrenching style. I know she has a stressful time alone with her dad, and it breaks my heart not to be able to cuddle and massage her. But on the other hand, I feel I am where I should be at the moment. It's so wonderful to see my family again, and so comfortable to be back in the Netherlands, like stretching out on a sofa that remembered the shape of my body. I'm ever so snug.

Though I had the intention of getting up early, I relaxed in my room until 1 pm or so - sleeping, browsing old books and pictures, bathing in nostalgia. In the late afternoon, I cycled to my sister's apartment - for both of us to be picked up by dad. The three of us went to our grandmother. Well, my dad's mother. We spent a few hours catching up and chatting. As ever, she was easily convinced to sing old songs - which I caught on video (below). I realised that, however familiar and utterly natural it was for the four of us to spend time together.. However much my grandmother's house seems caught in a timewarp, a 1970's bubble she is part of, none of this is true and all of it can be easily lost. It's painful to think it had been 18 months since my last visit at least, and 13 months since I last saw my dad and sister. I could blame the few beers I had for it, but it can move me to tears. Enough said on the subject though - I'll do some private soul searching - and I'll end this post with clips of my grandmother's grandeur.


Het Knaapje


Het Fiere Schooiershart