On Friday night we encountered no traffic for the first time ever, which meant we made it to the Eurotunnel in perfect time. This was our first Eurotunnel experience as it’s a bit more expensive than the ferry, but as it is only a 30 minute journey from England to France, we decided to splash out and boy did it make the journey so much easier! We will always go via the Eurotunnel now when we are travelling around three hours on the other side, as it means you get a few precious hours of extra sleep that would have otherwise been spent chatting on the ferry. Quite an odd experience though as essentially you just drive up onto a train and then sit in your car for 30 mins while the train shoots beneath the ocean – bit odd really.
The three hour drive from Calais to the Netherlands flew by with the help of a few mixed CDs and we arrived at our hostel at around 1am local time. We set our alarms for early the next day to ensure we had time for breakfast and to find our way to O’Caseys pub, which we knew were playing the rugby. A rocky night’s sleep was had thanks to a tummy ache my end, and snoring/ sleep talking Kalem’s end. Poor Brad, I was thinking angry thoughts about Brad’s snoring on my top bunk, only to find out the next morning that he was doing the same – the culprit being none other than Mr. O’Sullivan!
Breakfast at our hostel was grand and we were soon wandering through Den Hague on route to the infamous O’Caseys, which was advertised as being the place where the NZ Consulate go to watch the game. Being in a packed pub with a bunch of Frenchies was enough to test the patience, especially after we were jostled and pushed without one excuse me, but when they eventually took the dream away from Wales, we were down in the dumps to say the least. Gutted – our plans of driving to Cardiff to watch the final were destroyed.
Picking ourselves up, we then went for a wander through the city, stopping off at the Escher Museum – a famous Dutch artists who played around with dimensions and space. He is awesome and I’m sure you would have all seen some of his work before. The museum was brilliant and we had a grand time, despite being without Hamish and Kalem who opted to not pay the entrance fee. His work is amazing and I’m so glad we had the opportunity to go to his hometown and experience his work up close and personal, as well as chuckle away at the interactive installations! Wee Jess even had the opportunity to feel what it is like to be one of us giants for a few moments…
Next up lunch, where Niels took us to a Dutch restaurant while we sat in the sun, overlooking the market place full of protestors. One particularly passionate individual seemed to get a little out of control and came screaming into a group of us diners accusing us of all sorts of atrocities. A little counterproductive to her cause and not exactly what you would call a peaceful protest, but it provided a nice bit of excitement all the same.
Scheveningen beach was our next port of call, where we spent a few hours sitting watching the world go by, whilst eating fries, ice-cream and hot dogs.
By this stage we were keen for a bit of rest and as it was 6pm we decided to head back to the hostel for a bit of rest, before deciding on our next action. Instead after a few games of pool between the boys, and a nap from me, we ended up just hanging back at the hostel chatting before heading off to bed at midnight. We had an early start that day and after an exhausting week, no-one, bar Hamish and Niels, was in the mood for a big night. So as we drifted off into the land of nod, the other two hit a few bars before calling it a night.
The next day we were up when it was still dark and were storming off to O’Caseys where we lined up outside, desperate to get a perfect position for the big game. We hit the jackpot and managed to get a cozy, cushioned booth which we were immensely grateful for by the time kick-off rolled around and the pub was jam-packed. We were all feeling more than a little nervous and tension was running rife amongst the group. With four Kiwis and an Aussie, of course we were quietly confident, but the upset of Wales had knocked us a little. What a game – surrounded by Kiwis and Australians (who knew there was such a strong expat community in Den Haag?) we screamed our way to victory! As we were so packed into our booth, we imagined that our cheers would be limited to a few arm raises whilst sitting down, but of course this never happens and as excitement took hold we were all on our feet screaming and cheering. Of course, due to the limited space, this didn’t go according to plan and as Brad got up to cheer, he managed to knock Niels who feel sideways, completely missing the try. His cries for help fell on completely deaf ears, drowned out in the hurrahs – he wasn’t impressed, but of course we were and we all fell over ourselves laughing at his misfortune!
Straight after the game we had to head back to the car and hit the road. We had grand plans to stop in Rotterdam, the Netherland’s second largest city, for lunch but as we drove through we had absolutely no desire to stop. The city was bombed flat during WWII so it’s not particularly pretty and unless you know where to go, you’re left with a feeling of ‘what the hell?’ So on we drove, this time making plans to stop at our beloved Ghent in Belgium – such a beautiful city and it really is a wonder why more people haven’t heard of it. We’d been there a few times before, but everyone else was delighted with it, so we spent a few hours here wandering around, eating chips in the sun watching boats pass through the canals, and shopping for Belgian beer.
We crossed the Eurotunnel in the flash of an eye and before we knew it, we were back in England. We finished off a relaxing weekend at our favourite pub in Maidstone, where the food once again exceeded expectation.
Lovely stuff!
x
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