Very odd little news item in today's Parool. I translate
Volunteers clean up the Vondelpark
From tomorrow, teams of helpers will help clean up the Vondelpark. The Friends of the Vondelpark association says more is needed than just the regular city council maintenance to stop the park deteriorating. Every Friday in the summer a group will come and clear up the rubbish. Tomorrow it is the turn of the 7th and 8th grade at the Nicholaas Maes school.
So 10 and 11 year olds are being roped in to clear up all the crap left by lazy teenagers and students after the barbecues and beer are they? Seems most odd. And how much choice does a primary school kid have about being such a volunteer anyway.
I had a quick look at the Vrienden van het Vondelpark website. It talks about volunteers wandering around the park and handing out rubbish bags, which is not the same thing as cleaning up other people's beer cans. So I am a little confused.
However, the Friends are also calling for a barbecue ban in an effort to stop the rot.
'Plants and grass are destroyed, pets and animals eat the unhealthy left-overs, children and dogs face danger from glass splinters...' the website states.
Surely not the same volunteer children as are being roped in by the Friends to clear up the mess in the first place?
]]>We should have been suspicious when we first looked at the website. All those arty black and white pictures of people posing with peppers, rather than food. But hey, we were out to celebrate and Blauw on the Amstelveenseweg seemed the perfect place to do it.
However....
]]> Despite the lovely smiling girls prancing all over the page, Blauw left us seeing red. In fact, it would not be an exaggeration to say the reception we received was the most unpleasant and unprofessional we have ever encountered from restaurant staff in Amsterdam in the last 30 or so years – or indeed anywhere, ever.Dressed in our best and full of happy anticipation, I informed the young man who greeted us that we had reserved a table online for four people some two weeks previously to celebrate my husband’s birthday.
With a stern face he turned to his computer and after a few moments of silent scowling, asked if I had 'proof' of the booking. Startled, I asked him what he meant. He wanted to see the confirmation email on my mobile. When I told him I didn’t have my mobile with me, he clearly thought I was some sort of imbecile.
This attitude continued for the following 10 minutes or so during which he invited me to find evidence of the reservation by checking my mail on his computer (I declined), ignored me completely while addressing my daughter as if I was incapable of understanding the need to reserve a table, and generally made us feel like some form of low life trying to crash our way into an exclusive private party.
My daughter (who being in her 20s did of course have her mobile with her) showed him the forwarded message confirming the booking. This failed completely to impress him. IF I had reserved, he said, it may have been for their restaurant in Utrecht. Yeah right, like I would want to drive to Utrecht on a Saturday night when we live less than a kilometer from Amstelveenseweg.
I suggested that perhaps he could just see if there was a table available or not. We continued to stand sandwiched between tables with waitresses shoving past us as he once again consulted his computer. By now our celebratory mood had disappeared. Along with my patience. And my husband’s temper. It was only as we walked out that he said sorry. Talk about too little, way, way too late. It was insulting.
But perhaps we should have suspected Blauw isn’t the friendliest of restaurants when we read this on the online menu: When sharing a main course/rice-table 10,00 euro is charged for the second plate.
So we went instead to Affourtit round the corner on the Koninginneweg where we were immediately offered a bottle of prosecco while we waited for a table, plus scroppinos and cake on the house for desert. And, best of all, friendly smiling staff who sang happy birthday as if they really meant it. Thank you Maarten Affourtit and crew for making it a happy birthday.
]]>The new look Damrak has finally been unveiled - the first stage in the council's plan to develop a 'red carpet route' to the depths of the Pijp, along the route of the new metro.
This week Parool readers were treated to a load of special offers to encourage us to spend more time on what was once one of the tackiest streets in the city.
Has it improved? We really don't know. But we are very puzzled why Hotel The Exchange is describing itself as a fashion hotel with rooms dressed like models? The mind boggles. We just might have to check out the free panini.
]]>The good folk of Zuidas are very keen to keep the Zuidplein, between the two World Trade Centre buildings, clear of bikes and mopeds.
So what is this delightful little Canta doing parked just here? And where are the bike nazis - those charming city council workers who take away all those wrongly parked two-wheelers - when you need them.
]]>Every Sunday it is the same... when will the thickos in city hall realise underground containers don't work?
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Amsterdam on Sunday morning, down the street from where we live... what a lovely view, what pleasant smells, what interesting wildlife hanging around - we specifically like the places where the rats have dug open the bags.
We've been trying to solve this problem for months and months but the council does not seem to take us seriously. And our lovely neighbours seem to have to problem with adding their crap to the pile.
What to do now? Clear it all up and dump it outside the council offices?
]]>Cycling home from work past a classical music concert in the Vondelpark, courtesy of broadcaster Avro. Stood and watched for a while... Only in Amsterdam would a show like this be accompanied by an overwhelming smell of weed.
]]>Could you ask for a better day to head over to Amsterdam Noord to meet a mate for lunch?
I've seen the enormous banner covering the old Shell building many times but this is the first time I've noticed the arrows pointing to heaven and hell. And realised all the words are song texts...
Doe Maar and Is Dit Alles, anyone?
]]>Will this perhaps get the attention of the bright sparks in city hall? The most delightful element in today's pile is a bag of used cat litter. Charming. Almost as pleasant as the broken bits of toilet.
How lucky we are to have such thoughtful neighbours.
]]>So this is how it looks this afternoon. Among the new additions to the heap are one of those silly little suitcases on wheels, bits of a bike, some plastic children's toys and a lot more empty cans of cooking oil.
]]> No fights with the neighbours to report today... but we have had a visitor from the local healthboard who was, apparently, shocked at the amount of waste from restaurants on our lovely mountain.He has promised to write it all up in his report. Not that he can promise anything, you understand. It's all up to his boss.
One of the girls from our block was forced to dig out her bike this morning, which had been knocked over under the weight of cardboard boxes.
The strike is supposed to end tomorrow and the powers that be will be sending out extra groups to clean up the mess. Our pile is so big it will probably fill one lorry.
And then, when it is all clean and sparkling again, someone will forget to mend the broken container so people will not be able to put their garbage into the ground So they will start leaving their bags next to the container and the pile will begin building again.
Perhaps its just as well. The garbage mountain has become so much a part of our lives that we would probably miss it. But not the smell.
]]>One day of strike to go.
]]>So this is our lovely garbage pile late on Monday afternoon... its quite a lot bigger than it was on Sunday. And apart from its distinctive smell, what else has this charming pile helped achieve today?
]]> Well, we've had fights with two neighbours who insisted on adding their crap to the pile.We've send a bunch of Twitter messages to the civil servants who will try and blame our burg on the strike plus filled in the formal complaints forms lots of times.
We've also noticed the piece of rotting salmon on the pavement has disappeared.
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This is the bin outside our house on Sunday evening. Delightful. And tomorrow the bin men go on strike for three days to protest at the lack of movement in agreeing a new pay deal.
]]> Now I am full of sympathy with the bin men. They do a very smelly and necessary job. But we are now out of patience with the stupid officials who are in charge.The lovely underground container jammed up on Friday evening. So this is the volume of garbage created in our street and all the others which use it, in two days. That should be enough to prove to the jobsworths in charge that the container is not big enough and the system does not work.
Watch this space - or lack of space, actually.
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