Life in Amsterdam is dominated at the moment by the EK and the Netherlands’ so-far-rather-disastrous campaign. The evenings when Holland is playing every cafe in our area is full and every house has at least one tennant hosting a party. The streets are awash with orange with all the flags and buntings and of course everyone is dressed in orange. Its like having a combination of the Grand Final and the Melbourne Cup at the same time, only it happens once or twice every week for several weeks in a row.
Goals are met with the sort of noise that would wake the living-dead and the walls literally shake from the collective agitation. Luckily, this hasn’t happenned too often! But near misses create almost as much ‘herrie’ as you can literally hear the entire nation rise to their feet with a yell and then fall back on the couch clapping their free hand to their forehead. I don’t know how Jacob sleeps through it!
Things in our street were even more exciting this week as there is a Portuguese Club down the road who were celebrating wildly after Portugal’s win against Spain. Mind you, 50 odd Portuguese can’t make nearly as much noise as half a dozen Dutchmen! You have to barrack for Portugal in this context really, they are almost one of the underdogs.
Some of my colleagues have taken Holland’s fortunes to heart and have been busy creating this.
postcards from the north 