Being a newbie in a city is always a little annoying — particularly when you’ve gone from knowing the last city you lived in like the back of your hand. But, it’s also invigorating to stand on streets you know will soon be as familiar to you as Shaikh Zayed Road; to stand there staring at Google Maps in confusion while you figure out the way to the nearest Marks & Spencer. I now live in Amsterdam.
Leaving Bangkok was horrendous. The whole build up was awful because, every day, I had increasingly niggling doubts I was doing the wrong thing and that Bangkok was my soul mate. I went into autopilot to pack and say goodbye to people. I was in some kind of denial about it.
The first couple of days in Amsterdam were awful because I was jetlagged, had a Thai salary to spend in a European country and had the incredibly tough task of finding a flat in Amsterdam (this is known for being ridiculously hard) but, I suppose from experience, I had prepared myself for some rocky moments. I expect to keep having them over the course of up to six months.
Now, with some temporary accommodation sorted, I can relax and enjoy the city a little. You know that saying “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”? well, I think it’s worked the other way for me with Bangkok; you don’t know what you’re missing until you have it. The tiniest of things are making me feel so content right now; streets that are wonderfully quiet other than the jingle of bicycles bumping over canal bridges, good cheese, the fact supermarkets smell of warm bread, plugs that don’t spark when you plug them in, seasons, companies that conduct themselves in a legal and professional manner, men who notice me (ok, shallow, I know but after four and a half years of being virtually ignored by the male of the species, it’s nice to feel attractive again) and people thinking I’m a local. It’s not always fun to stand out like a sore thumb whenever you do anything. Blissful anonymity; ahhhh.
I think I must be the most relaxed person ever to move to a new country (after the initial panic and stress of moving 100kg of luggage across the city to stay in a new hotel every night for the first three nights). I didn’t realize how ready I was for a break from the chaos of Bangkok. Perhaps a lot of my hesitation to leave was less out of love for the city and more out of being scared of change; familiarity breeds comfort, I suppose.
It’s funny in other ways that, although Europe feels so familiar, what with me being British and all, eight years away from home makes some things feel so peculiar. For instance, people never stop eating in the office. This may be TMI, but my digestive system has just given up trying to process the heavy carbs I’m eating throughout the day. The lack of formal clothes was another shock. I’ve always been the most scruffily dressed in whatever office I work in but, in Amsterdam, I fit right in. It’s jeans, trainers and T-shirts all over the place. People have told me to forget my dressy clothes; I’ll never have an opportunity to wear them here. Quite the contrast to Bangkok, where a pre-work blowdry and towering heels for the office were kind of expected. Sadly, iced lattes just don’t seem to be a thing here (what? It’s the absolute best kind of coffee), so I need to start getting into hot coffees and, crucially, I need to stop announcing to the office that I’m headed to the coffee shop and do they want anything. Note to self: coffee shops are not the same thing in Amsterdam at all.
