according to the swedish girl who sat next to me on the plane, the snow covered airport runway is nothing. that’s not snow, she tells me. snow is when you have to put your foot has to disappear under the stuff in order to touch the ground.
i arrived in amsterdam on a blardy cold sunday morning. to her, this is a nice, warm day. to me, i have arrived in a region of the world which is unnatural for the human species.
apparently, she was not the only one who thought so. i met up with MW and MA later that day and MW came wearing a skirt! its a warm enough day, she said, radiantly smiling.
what is wrong with you people?! and i mean, ALL you people who live here? there is snow on the ground! my boots are WET! and i have had near death experiences by people who ride their bicycles on the ICE formed on the sidewalks! cycling on ICE! can you, sitting on that nice warm chair in a human conducive climate like back home, can you imagine the kind of skill, and not to mention guts it would take for a person to cycle on ice? and now, can you imagine an entire city filled with that kind of bravery? and i’m not talking about seratus or dua ratus buah basikal. i am talking about beratus-ratus ribu, hundreds of thousands of bicycles on this suicide mission!