I did not get Shoe Fruit

Well, Sinterklaas came and went.  It was a pretty awesome little party.
Photos from the actual night (along with the awesome presents) will be up shortly.

But until then...let's talk about when Sinterklaas first arrived a couple weeks ago.
Since Noordwijk is on the sea, and he comes by boat it only made sense that he should arrive in our fair city.  And just like last year...Santa comes with the need for speed!  Yep...he arrives on a speedboat which is then hoisted onto the sand by this other mechanical thing...

(

See him?  Yea!  I actually got a picture of him this year!

Fien, being a year older, and no longer afraid, had a blast waiting for him with Papa...

And enjoying the company of the yet to be deemed racist Zwarte Piet (and their accompanying Peppernoten!)...

Once the crowd got a little crazy, we decided to head out.  Suzan being unbelieveably pregnant had held back with Aunt Hester, Uncle Maarten, and cousin Quinten, who, not being as old and mature and experienced as Fien, was not enjoying the festivities.  Fien (having all the above named qualities) attempted to calm him to no avail...

With the crowd following Sint like sheep, we took advantage of the desserted beach for some quick family photos...

Me and my munchkin

Mama, Papa, Fien

The neighbors - mom is also pregnant!

Later as we wondered down the Hoofdstraat, we entered the Hema only to find SINTERKLAAS WAS IN THERE!  Unlike mall appearances, this was a once a year, couple hours in the day sort of thing.  And as we entered the workers swept Fien in to be the last kid seen by Sinterklaas!  What a lucky girl!
She was a little cautious, but once Mama stepped in, all was fine...

AND the mayor even came over, Shook Fiens hand, and held her up for a photo!  She had no idea who he was however, so she was a little weirded out...

(Suzan believes this is because I had my big camera and looked like press - which I totally believe)

It was a wonderful day!  My only regret is that I didn't get my own photo with Sinterklaas or a Zwarte Piet.  Oh well.  Fien still had a fabulous day...

And to continue from the last post with "Sinterklaas in the Media" - allow me to share with you a Stephen Colbert clip from his very first season, five years ago!

                   

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
The Real Christmas
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes 2010 Election March to Keep Fear Alive

      

What's funny is, if I had seen this five years ago, I would have thought it was ridiculous.  Now I know that (besides the shoe fruit) it's completely true...which makes it that much better!

Word of the Day: Zwarte Piet - Black Peter

I Blame Giambi

Usually when I talk to people here and they ask where I'm from I say San Francisco.  It's the easiest because if you know a city on the west coast, chances are it's San Francisco.  However if for some reason we start to talk about sports, they then assume that I am a Giants fan.  And when you assume you make an ass out of u and any other Giants fans out there.  Ok I don't actually hate the Giants.  And congrats to them for actually doing well...always.
But I am an A's fan.  Oak-town pride.

I discovered said pride ironically when I moved away from the green and gold to the land of blue/red (otherwise known as Dodgers and Angels.)  Because nothing makes you become more in love with your home then being 300 (or 5371) miles away from it.  And I LOVE going to baseball games.  It's one of the many things I miss being over here.
And yes...I know...we suck.  But we're doing better than the Mariners...knock on wood.

Anyway when I moved here, Mags, the Maine girl, had Fien looking like this...

But now (and thanks to Nina,) I'm proud to say that Fien looks like this...

Oh yea!  Go A's!

Of course when asked to say Go Anything, her response is "Go Nederlands."  So...

Here's a couple more shots from our little photo shoot.  Enjoy.

Don't you love how much Fien has grown up? It's incredible.

Word of the Day: baseball - baseball (yea, they don't play it so they don't have their own word for it)

A month later and I'm still upset

Alright you get to once again read about Nina being here! Aren’t you excited?

This time, I’d like to tell you about an event we did not plan for…the World Cup finale.  You all know that I officially caught World Cup fever and seeing as I wasn’t in one of the countries to get booted out immediately, nor were we eliminated in the first round thus negating all social responsibility to give a damn about who won, it was safe to say that WK fever was on a steady rise in the land of Orange.

So let’s take a journey shall we?

First there was the very first game of the series…Win over Denmark!

Then there was the impromptu sports bar in Barcelona…Japan goes down and we’re still surrounded by Orange.

Then there was stupidly cheering for Spain to win a game…this was before they were against us.

Then we missed the third of the series, plus the first elimination round due to not finding it on the TV and being passed out from having stayed up all night to catch a plane in that order respectively.

But then…it was time to get serious.  First, we hit Noordwijk to watch Holland come from behind to beat BRAZIL!  The team that was rumored to win it all.  After being absolutely ecstatic…

We came home to enjoy all the facebook and twitter stati claiming unrecognizable absurdity in the past two hours’ happenings...then we went and got poffertjes.

For the next game, we got dressed up…

And headed out again to Noordwijk.  And in a bar surrounded by large groups of red nosed Dutchmen and stumbling sixteen year olds, we watched Holland take the semi finals by storm…and by storm I mean something frightening, intense, and not knowing when it would be over, but only hoping for good (and that a cow doesn’t land in a tree.)  But we did it.  And we enjoyed celebrating.  Of course so did the rest of Noordwijk…

We had a little break before our next game.  So we took that time to rest and teach Fien the art of making a loud distracting noise with a piece of Orange plastic…

Of course these events meant only one thing…we had to go to Amsterdam for the Final.  Upon arriving to a sea of Orange…

We met up with Lily and headed over to Museumplein where there were screens set up, and free stuff galore.  We scored shirts, vuvuzelas, a large lion tooter, and some flags.  We were good to go.  And boy was it insane.  There were over 100,000 people there…in one square.  We were happy to be a part of the festivities…

There were DJs encouraging Dutch singalongs (Nina and I attempted it), boys jumping into canals, and even helicopters that dropped thousands of flower petals onto the crowd.

Of course once the game actually began we realized that there was no way I would be able to see a thing…and I got very sad…

I caught the occasional glimpse, and a play by play was offered by whoever happened to be squished next to me at the moment, but I still didn’t get to see everything.  And then…in the final moments of over time…Spain scored.  And Holland was once again…not the champions.  We walked towards the train station (a mile walk since the trams weren’t running,) Nina hurt her knee in the process, squished onto a packed train, caught a taxi home and around 4:30 in the morning snuggled into bed with broken hearts. 

And…the Dutch team helicoptered into NOORDWIJK after the series where they stayed in a super boojie hotel on the beach before heading into Amsterdam for a canal parade a few days later.  It was good to welcome the boys home.

And I know it means nothing because we still lost the important one…but did you know that Holland actually won more games than Spain in the entirety of the series? Oh well, there’s always the next one boys.

Word of the day: teleurstelling - disappointment

You can also watch it on the Ocho

It’s time for another entry on the Cox Sisters’ adventures in Bulb Land.  And this time we’re going far away from the clogs and windmills…we’re heading to…Rotterdam.  You might remember Rotterdam as the setting for the infamous Sinterklaas party last year.  It's a very modern city compared to the rest of Holland because it was destroyed in bombings from the Wars and was completely rebuilt.  But freezing my butt off while being shown the sights last December was all worth it because it meant I got to sit around on my butt (not freezing this time) all day and not feel guilty about seeing the city.  Also the times I wasn’t sitting on my butt meant I remembered where the shopping center was along with the four story H&M with killer sales going on.  Oh it was glorious.

Anyway…the reson for us sitting on our butts?  Was because in all actuality, we couldn’t get away from the traditional Dutch and had traveled an hour and sat on concrete in order to watch…bikes.  Alright but these were no ordinary bikes with scary bells and baskets of flowers/dogs on them.  These were…racing bikes.  And not just any racing bikes…these were the bikes of the Tour de France!

We got up on Saturday with a plan to go somewhere (although at the time not Amsterdam because it was rumored to rain and we didn’t want to do a tour in the rain.)  Then we got a perfectly timed email from my father informing us that the Tour de France actually started in Holland, and went down through Belgium before heading off into it’s name sake.  So they should really call it tour de Benerance.  Anyway, that day was the start of the tour…well the time trials, but who cares?  Still awesome right? So we headed out there.  When we got there, it was still pretty empty.  Knowing that it would fill up soon we decided to grab a seat.  But not before walking the majority of the track and enjoying all the sights…

Of course after we sat down and waited…

And waited…

And tested ut the camera’s multi-shot setting much to the unhappiness of the man sitting behind Nina…

And receiving a free hat…

The parade of sponsors began!  Which was just an excuse to want cheap useless free crap from trucks decorated like anything but trucks…

Well after that parade, we met a lovely woman who had a schedule…and it turned out that although the trials would be starting soon, all the good racers (read the ones thought to possibly win, read: Lance Armstrong which was the only person we knew of) were not going to be for another FIVE hours!!!  Hence the necessary trip to the four story H&M.

So after a successful spree including the introduction of the Dutch equivalent of the Costco hotdog/soda combo (although twice as expensive), we headed back to the track.  There we were graciously allowed into the front being short and pretty, and with an hour left, began snapping shots…and shot after shot…we were practicing for Lance…because we were not going to miss him.  Here’s some of the better ones…but don’t ask me who they are…

And then we saw Lance!  For about two seconds…

Doesn’t he look fast?

And yes I know he has since lost…man those Spanish just take away EVERYTHING (oh don’t worry there’s a World Cup entry coming up soon).  But team Radioshack came in first…so GO USA!

Afterward, when everyone was done, I couldn't resist.  Here's me...on the track...no bike necessary...

Anyway, it doesn’t matter.  It was a very cool experience.  Thanks Dad for filling us in.  And just remember…LIVESTRONG.

Word of the Day: Tour van Frankrijk - Tour de (of) France (but actually they just call it Tour de France)