Memories

The party sucked. I was the only person there from my year and I only slightly recognised one other person. All in all there was maybe a grand total of 50 people there, which is pretty pathetic if you consider that 200 students have graduated every year since 2001 and there’s 600 people at the school right now. In other words, less than 2% of the people showed up.

Being back in Utrecht was fun, though. I had an hour before the party started, so I drifted through a couple of streets and sat at a couple of bars. I visited the place where I had my first job after college and had two beers there (one on the house), I also saw my favourite donor Kebab place was still there – unfortunately I was still full from dinner so I had to forgo feasting there, but it was nice to know it still existed.

They layout of the town is still imprinted on my memory. I still knew where streets led and where turnoffs went. As I wandered around memories kept popping to the surface, stirred loose by buildings and sights I didn’t even remember I knew and now suddenly had whole histories associated with them again. The Thai restaurant where I learned to eat spicy food; the place I discussed throwing bricks in glass houses; the shop I bought all my books; the hot chocolate place where we discussed all our plans, none of which seem to have come to fruition.

The funny thing is, when I walked through Frankfurt it wasn’t the same. I didn’t have all these memories resurface. Is it because it was too long ago, or was my time in Utrecht just more intense? Utrecht is certainly a great deal prettier than Frankfurt. I’d forgotten how pretty Dutch cities could be. I’m surprised no more non-pot smoking tourists come to the Netherlands. You’d think more people would be fascinated by the visible history in places like Amsterdam and Utrecht. There you can see what a few hundred more years of history and a good preservation policy can mean for a place.

I think it’s probably the weather. The prettiness in Holland is so dependent on the weather and the weather is, unfortunately enough, so undependable that a whole holiday can be largely ruined because the weather gods temperamental tantrums.

It’s the same for people that live here, as well. I continue to believe that one of the primary reasons I ran away all those years ago is the weather – while I pray I was wrong.