Utrecht Hotels
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Utrecht Utrecht Utrecht Yeah!
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The old saying goes that 'God created the world, but the Dutch created the Netherlands'. I never truly understood what they meant by this, but Utrecht definitely helped me gain a bit of insight. Holland is a truly gorgeous and unique country, and no better is the lifestyle of the Dutch on display than in Utrecht. Utrecht is an odd word to pronounce. Utrecht. It sounds kinda weird i reckon. I guess it's then pretty much a given that when you inform fellow travellers or passer by randoms that you're planning to check out a place called 'Utrecht', you invariably receive looks of utter confusion. But let me tell you, Utrecht is no place to frown about, no place to avoid because of its strange name, and despite the fact that it wasn't even listed in my Lonely Planet guide, Utrecht is a bloody wonderful place to visit. Go to Utrecht! My Canadian mates whom i partied with back in Prague, Pam and Philly D, told me specifically that if i ever went to the Netherlands, then i must stay at this sensational hostel in Utrecht that needed to be seen to be believed. Allegedly, the place offered free food, free internet, a vast range of other free stuff that i forgot, but generally, i got the sincere impression that this would be my sort of place. Well, Ireland was cut short, Belgium and Netherlands were back on the cards, and it seemed that the encounter with Utrecht was therefore inevitable.
I got up early in the sweaty, commodious disused skate hostel, and joined the one other bloke foolish enough to be up at this hour aside from the hostel worker, watching that bomb on a bus film 'Speed' whilst taking advantage of some free toast and coffee. With pack strapped on and sax upon me shoulder, i made my way over to the station, bought another fantastic Dutch bottle of fresh juice (man, these tubes of Kiwi smoothie were a highlight of the Dutch experience - the Dutch have got a lot of things right, despite their Hollywood reputation for being crazy bastards, and these glass tubes of fresh juice are definitely one of those things), and jumped on the first train to Utrecht.
An hour passed, morning sun glowed over the Netherlands, and as soon as i arrived in Utrecht i had more than a sneaking suspicion that i'd be there for a while. The place was absolutely gorgeous, leafy, neat tan brick-clad streets, people riding majestically on bikes along specially designed cycling lanes heading into work, canals through the core of town, ahh....i dunno if it was the way the morning sun was out, or what, but the place felt really amazing on first glance. Golden, chilled out, tidy, cosy. With a map, i lugged my effects over to the hostel reccomended by the Canucks, the 'B and B Utrecht city centre hostel'. With no signage nor any indication that a hostel existed, i rang a random doorbell and lucked it, discovering the hostel and finding my way up a steep staircase to the main rumpus room.
Expectations were fulfilled, and then some. The main room was decked out to the hilt with chandeliers, huge mirrors, an enormous rectangular dining table, roughly twelve I-mac computers and two IBMs with free internet, a wall of electric guitars (one of which was constructed from an old tin can of castrol oil), a grand piano, an veritable hoard of percussion instruments including seven conga drums, a full drum kit, as well as amps, leads, you name it - this place had it. And on top of that, the kitchen was always full of free food, pasta, sauces, dodgy vegetarian meatballs and taco logs, ice cream, hams, man! Free!!! I couldn't get over all this. After staying at countless hostels that struggled to factor in a basic cup of coffe with their 20 Euro a night fee, this 16 Euro a night palace, filled with free meals and rock instruments totally satisfied my every need. I wasn't goin anywhere. Acquainting myself with a dorm bed, i dumped my stuff and got chatting to the inhabitants of the place. Hearing an aussie voice, i met two Sydneysiders Amelia and Morris, a dreadlocked yank by the name of Link, and two blokes who would become my good mates by the end of the Utrecht experience, Polish Bart, and Martin from Leeds, a short, 50 year old terrier who was missing most of his front teeth, and seemed to indulge greatly in his hooch. In a matter of hours i was buddies with this crew, being fed free ice cream, and being informed in detail of the night prior where Morris and Amelia consumed 'shrooms. We ate mash for lunch, and in the all too familiar too-soon fashion, Morris, Amelia and Link were on their way in the mid arvo, out the door, onwards to their own new adventures. Travel is a funny beast like that. You meet some great people, and then they're gone.
I found myself chatting with Martin a fair bit, about all sorts of stuff, life, politics, it was quite easy to talk jive with the bloke, though admittedly, he did most of the talking. Martin was a talker and a half. We took a walk past the park outside up to the main drag and chilled out in a nearby coffee shop, indulging in the local product, and proceeded to talk more and more jive about everything and anything, Martin slightly freaking me out with the pace at which mis mouth moved and the sometimes intensely deep conversational material. But ol' Martin was a gentle soul with a heart of gold, offering me cash if i was ever running short, divulging all about his idea for a new life in Holland, his colourful past, his family, his work, what he thought about everything. Like so many encounters on your travels, its all about the people you meet along the way, and Martin was a total character.
With a head slighly screwed off, not terribly dissimilar to the mindspace of Rotterdam, i traipsed the streets of Untrecht immersed in another glorious bout of afternoon sun and lavished in the tantalisingly gorgeous surrounds of this fine town. I listened to my Ipod and took some great shots of the town, as beautiful blonde dutch women pedalled elegantly and helmetless on their old school bicycles, and locals sat by drinking beers at outdoor cafe tables. I was awestruck by how different Holland truly was compared to any other place i'd come across in my travels, how their way of life and liberal attitudes could be felt so profoundly through the vibe of the place. Their women were gorgeous and clearly took their vitamins. Utrecht exuded an unmistakably charming warmth, a positive vibration of layed back living, and a livelihood of real, almost utopian freedom. Something was definitely going right for this joint, and my new mate Martin was first to agree with me. With near-setting sun streaming through the bristling leaves of the leafy, covered square, i sat on the stone steps afoot the town cathedral, its bells chiming and resonating right across the whole city, and tucked into a box of Char Siew from a local noodle merchant. I was absolutely captivated by my new, enchanting location.
I made my way back over to the hostel sometime after that and from memory I pretty much just hung out there for the rest of the evening. The warmth of the town was matched only by the warmth of the hostel, and i felt very much at home in this ultra Bohemian accomodation. In hindsight it seemed inevitable that i'd be basing myself here for the next nine days.
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