Train to Paris

On the train to Paris. Thought that if I'm actually going to try to blog everything that I do, I should try to make smaller posts more often. Besides, there's excellent wifi here.

This morning I had breakfast at the hotel, only slightly hungover. Then I went out looking for a drug store in order to obtain eye drops, since my lens solution does nothing. 

I found a supermarket, with a little selection of medicines and so forth, and was utterly stymied. Those delightful Dutch, who do everything in English, don't go bilingual on the medicine packaging. Everything is labeled with it's drug name (ethylhydroxine) or whatever, and then all the descriptors and dosages are in Dutch. I think I was able to distinguish eye solution from nasal spray, but no more than that.

I asked a guy behind the counter, and, no, I need to go to the pharmacy for eye drops, and they aren't open yet, but here are some unintelligible directions for where I can find it when it opens.

So I went back to the hotel and googled the location of the pharmacy, and then read up on Amsterdam. Population of 750k in the city limits, only 50% native Dutch. 4 million tourists a year, but 16 million come through on their way somewhere else.

I notice that everyone addresses everyone in English - it appears to be the language everyone speaks regardless of origin, and the default when speaking to a stranger.

I notice that, even though everyone HAS technology, they don't focus on it the way people do in Portland. If people are in a cafe or a bar, their phones aren't visible. They look at them on their way out the door, but the devices don't seem to command everyone's attention. At the train station, people read newspapers or chatted and smoked. Again, people look at their phones briefly, or talk on them, but they don't seem absorbed in them.

At the bar last night, Michael took for granted that all Dutch people also speak French and German and English, because Holland has always been a center of commerce and trade. He seemed a little sad that I hadn't learned a word of Dutch. He also seemed a little sad that America "rules the world".

Amsterdam has a liberal immigration policy (hence all the diversity). And so I thought about that for a while.

Checked out of the hotel, leaving myself a lot of time to hit the pharmacy and also navigate the enormous train station. Hoever, my mental google failed, and I couldn't find the pharmacy at all. So I still have the crazy red eyes. Sigh.

And the train station didn't require much navigating at all, once the nice man pointed me to the correct platform in English and then French just for good measure.

I really can get the gist of what French people are saying, incidentally. I just speak French like a child, nouns and verbs strung together with no understanding of tense or case, gender or article. And formal is just beyond me. On the train they make all the announcements in Dutch, then French, then English. And I know what they're saying before they get to English.

The train is quiet and lovely, and there is some accident ahead of us on the tracks and we're not going anywhere. And I'm seated in one of those unfortunate seats without a good window, and we're not even stopped somewhere picturesque, like the little bit of countryside we came through. I wanted to see more of that aquatic bird farm. 

And my fellow Americans are old and terrible. The poor woman serving us is doing it in three languages, bless her, and they just repeat themselves louder at her. And it seems each one of them has two suitcases big enough to hold a body. And the couple behind me has the maddening habit of repeating everything to each other three or four times. ("she just asked if you want coffee." "oh, does she want to know if I want coffee?" "Yes, do you want any coffee?" and so forth. I absolutely hate that, so I'm listening to music)

Hey! The train announcer just told a joke in the Dutch version of the announcement and all the Dutch people laughed. And then he didn't repeat it in the other languages, so I feel left out. Although he has a French accent, so you'd think he'd joke i the French one.

Anyway, we're backtracking a station, and then will change tracks and are running an hour late. This is awkward because my Paris hotel specifically asked what time my train is arriving. I hope they don't hold me to it. And I really wanted to get to Montparnasse cemetery this afternoon - I think it closes at 5. 

On the upside, I get another look at the aquatic bird farm.