And so it begins....

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Manifestation is a truly beautiful thing. To see a dream through to its realization is a blessing in an utterly simple and honest way. Even in manifestations of negativity, the progress of causality is wondrous, I think. And when there is nothing sinister involved, all the better!

So, I sit here in Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, reveling in the beauty of a dream that has been put into action with full intention and rootedness. In less than 10 hours I will be in Israel, and while I am in awe of my current life circumstances, I also understand that it is the product of a linear progression of which I am the agent of action. But enough projection and reflection.... more of the present.

I left Toronto yesterday at 10:20pm local time. I experienced the trans-Atlantic crossing for the third time (in this lifetime anyhow) and found it as strange as ever. I understand on an intellectual level that technology and machinery enables humans to soar tens of thousands of feet up into the Earth's atmosphere, in this case, over one of the great oceans. On another level (which I cannot label, try as I might) it is entirely boggling that we can traverse great distances at fantastic speeds, suspended by nothing more than air currents in supped-up tin cans. And then there is the whole time zone thing which TOTALLY fucks my mind. I have now been awake for well over 30 hours, and my faculties of imagination, not to mention suspension of disbelief, are wearing thin.I don't know that I'll ever be able to process these things logically. Even in the re-invention of myself as a world traveler, I don't think these aspects of travel will ever integrate wholly with my world view (or internal clock). But I digress yet again... back to the present adventures at hand.

I arrived in the Schiphol International Airport (Amsterdam) at 11:30am local time February 13, 2009. I had prepared myself in advance for the 10 hour layover by planning to travel by train from the airport to the Central Station and then by foot (weather permitting) or tram to the Rijksmuseum, a large and famous art museum.

Now I know some of you are probably chuckling to yourselves, and wondering why I have omitted my intention to travel to one of Amsterdam's even more famed coffee houses for a little taste of some of the world's finest greenery. I assure you, I have made no such omission in my account. In fact, in consideration of having to face several rounds of Israeli security and immigration by myself, after about 24 hours of traveling, having never done this before, I figured a clear mind was worth one missed opportunity for stupification. Amsterdam ain't going no where, and I didn't want to be in the same stationary boat. Thus, having procured a locker for my hand baggage (and a re-print of my Tel Aviv boarding pass - am SO glad I thought of this before leaving the terminal) I made my way, slowly but surely from the airport, to the train ticket booth, down to platform level, and onto my little European adventure.

My essential experience of Amsterdam was that it must be a really great place to live. From an admittedly exterior perspective, it appeared to have all of the comforts of a modern urban centre (shopping, markets, fashionable young people, ethnic flair etc.) all set against a glorious background of beautiful architecture, steeped in history. Here the roads are made for public transportation and bikes more than motorists, and so everywhere I looked bicycles were the primary mode of transportation. A beautiful thing indeed.

Arriving at Central Station, I walked around a bit, through narrow passageways and watercourses, marveling at my presence amongst it all. Taking a tram to the museum (on account of the rain) I was able to see all the hustle and bustle of the streets going by like a moving picture.

Stopping just outside the museum, the friendly tram driver instructed me where to go and I made my way through security and into the world of fine art. The Rijksmuseum (http://www.rijksmuseum.nl/) was under construction, so only their Masterpieces gallery was open for viewing. This was fine by me, as I had minimal time (and even more minimal energy) for spending. I was extremely content with the 17th century display which featured Rembrandt's work as well as some very interesting historical peepholes into the height of the Dutch slave trade from Africa to the New World. (Erin, you would have loved it!)

At some point, exhaustion got the better of my adventurous spirit and I decided to go wait the rest of my layover out in the airport. Seriously, I can't remember the last time I fought unconsciousness so badly. But finally, after many hours battling sleep, I made my way through the three-tiered Israeli boarding security, and found myself on Flight #0461 to Tel Aviv with a whole row (A WHOLE ROW!!!!!!!) to myself. I drifted in and out of consciousness for the next 5 hours, interrupted only by a meal (bow tie pasta, yum 😊 and found myself descending over the Mediterranean Sea into the Israeli night skyline. And just like that, I began my new life in the Promised Land....

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Photos

The Narrows
You'd never see anything like this in Canada... love the historical feel.