Caliban - Opinion and Righteous Anger

Since 1st July, the Netherlands has been smoke-free in cafés, pubs and restaurants; blissfully smoke-free. No more smokers!

We left on holiday a couple of days before the ban was introduced and were away for six weeks, so it's actually only been since this Monday that we've been able to go out and experience smoke-free lunch at our favourite places. And what a delightful experience it is.

With the cafés and restaurants now smoke-free, the next areas to target for cleansing are:

1. playgrounds
2. parks
3. café and restaurant patios and terraces
4. the street

In that order, of course.

If other European cities are anything to go by, the café terraces will have been rendered uninhabitable for anyone with a properly functioning olfactory organ. As those who wish to commit a slow, malodorous form of suicide are driven outside, current legislation allows them to take their acrid stench with them.

While we're on the subject, why don't smokers regard fag butts as litter? Fag ends now constitute the majority of street litter in some large European cities, yet little if anything is done to either prevent or penalise those who litter the street on account of their filthy habit.

If I sound vehemently anti-smoking, you're right on the mark. Rigorous anti-smoking laws are one of the few areas where the Americans and the Nazis got it right.

As far as I'm concerned, the only place smokers should be allowed to smoke is inside private residences; and even then, there's an argument against it if there are children living there.

It's -5° outside as I write this.

The gossamer webs on the garden gate are coated with a thin layer of frost, which makes them look both beautiful and fake, as if someone were deliberately going for the haunted house look.

The Vondelpark's ponds are frozen and the trees reach to the skies with their blanched, skeletal limbs. It's an old-fashioned winter, the like of which we haven't seen for a few years.

Many flights from Schiphol have been delayed and we have to be up in just four hours to catch ours to the annual Christmas run. I do hope it leaves on time.

Media Markt. Tja.

Het type kabelversterker dat ik zoek: niet voorradig.

De DVD die ik zoek (Love My Way serie 2): niet voorradig.

Het type geheugenkaart dat ik zoek (8Gb microSDHC): niet voorradig. Ook hangen er geen 16Gb CF-kaarten in het rekje en zo eentje heb ik al in maart van dit jaar uit de VS laten overkomen. Zucht.

Alles wat je zoekt is consequent niet bij deze winkel te vinden.

Niet alleen dat, maar de praktische bedrijfsvoering is uitermate slordig. Ik zie bv. ergens borden boven schappen staan met daarop de tekst Notebooktassen en Accessoires. En wat vind je er in die schappen? Juist, DVD's.

Zo'n zaak waar dit soort slordige praktijken wordt geduld doet je kooplust snel omslaan in minachting en onwilligheid om je zuurverdiende centjes te overhandigen. Die gun je ze gewoon niet; hebben ze zodoende niet verdiend.

Toch liep het niet uit op onvervalste tijdverspilling, want ik kwam uiteindelijk toch weg met een damesscheerapparaat voor Sarah d'r verjaardag (ja hoor, vandaag is ze 34 geworden). Eens te meer verliet ik de zaak morrend, een beetje boos op mezelf dat ik ondanks dergelijke ervaringen toch weer eens was teruggekomen.

Onderweg naar je auto krijg je ook nog een trap na van de parkeerautomaat, die onverbiddelijk geld afdwingt voor je mislukte winkelrit en het gebruik van een verder uitgestorven parkeerterrein.

Ik ben toch niet gek? En toch kom ik ongetwijfeld weer terug. Er zijn gewoon geen goede elektronicazaken in Amsterdam. Het aanbod ontstijgt niet eens het niveau van het Amerikaanse platteland.

Goh, dat lucht op. Bloggen in het Nederlands voor de verandering. Het interesseert toch geen hond buiten de landsgrenzen; als het al iemand binnen de stadsgrenzen interesseert.

Yesterday was 5th December, a big day in the Netherlands. The occasion is Sinterklaas, which is the eve of Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of children. The name Sinterklaas is a contraction of Sint Nicolaas.

Sinterklaas also provides the basis for the North American figure of Santa Claus, although that personage is distinct in Dutch culture and is known as de Kerstman.

The celebration of Sinterklaas is still much more popular than Christmas in this country. Many more people give presents on Sinterklaas than at Christmas, although more and more are giving presents on both occasions these days.

Sinterklaas is assisted in his giving duties by Zwarte Piet (Black Pete), a colourfully dressed figure with a black face. Opinions differ on whether this historically represents a person of African origin (originally, it was intended as a depiction of the devil). Some of those who believe it does read further into the role of Zwarte Piet as the servant of Sinterklaas and find unacceptable racial stereotyping. I find this reading to be naïse and largely the product of oversensitivity to the modern plague of political correctness.

Anyway, Eloïse 's playschool obviously celebrates this nice tradition and so we snapped a few photos when we went to pick her up.

Pepernoten, taaitaai decorated by the children with hagelslag, toddlers made up as Zwarte Piet and wearing colourful costumes, presents galore; it was all there.

Sinterklaas has now returned to Spain on his steamboat, but he'll be back again next year.

Before he went, he found time to ring the doorbell of the house yesterday evening and deposit a few more presents in Eloïse 's boot. Papa also wrote a poem about Eloïse , which he read to her great disinterest after dinner.

A phone conversation with Opa rounded out the day and Eloïse went to bed, a very tired little girl.

Today, Eloïse has been talking about the presents that Sinterklaas gave her. It's clearly made a big impression on her and it's a joy to see her imagination working overtime.

My ADSL line is buggered and any hope of getting it working again within a two month period since the move is fading fast.

The KPN failed to move it on the day of our move and then lost track of the three (yes, three) work orders I had filed with them to move it. Ultimately and without any announcement in advance or explanation after the fact, they unilaterally cancelled the line and refunded me the portion of the line rental since the move.

Of course, the KPN only provide the line. XS4ALL is my Internet provider and, as far as their records are concerned, I'm still receiving ADSL service. That this service has no line to serve as carrier doesn't seen to interest them.

I've been an XS4ALL customer for nearly thirteen years now. Way back when, they were unquestionably the best provider, by a considerable margin. Even recently, when my ADSL was working, it was the most reliable and robust ADSL I've ever had, certainly much more reliable than the DSL service I had in the US, first through PacBell and later through Speakeasy.

Anyway, I now had the seemingly simple task of explaining to them that the KPN had cancelled the line.

After several phone calls, it was becoming apparent that trying to get the line reactivated as part of the original move order was a strategy that wasn't making any progress. Around this time, the KPN credited me for the line and it became apparent there was no longer a line to move.

It pains me to say it, but XS4ALL seem more interested in blaming the KPN for what has happened than they do in fixing my problem, namely that I still have no ADSL, even though I'm paying XS4ALL's monthly fee for their half of the service.

After multiple calls, resulting in multiple promises to call me back, only a couple of which were actually kept, XS4ALL now want me to notify them in writing that I am terminating my subscription. This, they say, will allow me to begin again with a clean slate, so that I can then file an application for ADSL service. Groan.

They go on to say that there's a month's notice period before they can terminate the service, which is ridiculous, since termination is what they advise, not what I actually want. Furthermore, let's not forget that I'm not actually receiving any service, because their business partner arbitrarily discontinued my line.

XS4ALL don't seem the slightest bit interested that:

• I don't actually want to discontinue the service. On the contrary, I desire to continue it.
• I don't really care that this all started because of a mistake by the KPN. I just want the problem fixed.
• It's unprofessional to blame the other party in your business partnership, namely the KPN.
• It's very unprofessional for one employee at XS4ALL to blame another for giving incorrect information and making promises that can't be kept. Even if another employee is at fault, the customer isn't to blame for having received the information and pledge to resolve the issue. Train your bloody employees and honour any promises you make to your customers.
• It's not reasonable to expect the customer to indefinitely act as an intermediary in the solution of his own problem, when that problem stems directly from the poor interaction and integration between XS4ALL and the KPN. Not only is it poor customer service to make the customer engage in the fixing of a problem that you, the service provider, caused, but in this case it's impossible for the customer to even bring about the fix. Only willing cooperation between the KPN and XS4ALL can remedy the situation and no amount of cajoling by a single private customer who pays a small monthly amount for domestic DSL service is going to shunt either of these apathetic dinosaurs into action.
• If you promise to call someone back, you really should honour that promise.

Why can't XS4ALL, who blame the KPN for what has happened, fix the problem by dealing with the KPN directly? Why can't the KPN, who admit that the move was botched, call XS4ALL to get the problem fixed? Why on earth am I bounced between two parties, like a ball-bearing in a pinball machine, without any sign of slow progress towards an end solution?

XS4ALL now claim that the KPN is still going to move the line as part of a move order. The KPN, however, claim that the move order is dead and will not happen under any circumstances. I believe them, because they've already credited me for the line and I just don't believe that the KPN will be giving me a freebie. That would be a first.

XS4ALL now also tell me not to cancel my subscription, because said move will be complete soon. They believe this even in the face of the KPN's statement that there is no active move order. Anything's possible, I suppose, but it doesn't sound very likely.

Of course, XS4ALL can't tell me when the move will be complete. They also won't send me a new ISDN modem until the move is complete, which means that I can't actually test the line to find out when it become active.

So, I'm basically supposed to wait an indeterminate amount of time in the hope that the line will one day magically spring into life (with the KPN denying any intention to make that happen), at which point I can call again and ask -- again -- for an ISDN modem to be sent. Another employee even tells me that I won't be able to get an ISDN modem, because XS4ALL considers my line to be analogue, which, of course, it was until I moved and had it converted to ISDN.

A strongly worded letter of complaint went to XS4ALL by e-mail on Monday, but so far, I have heard nothing back. They promise to respond as soon as possible, so clearly, not much is possible in XS4ALL's world.

How are the mighty fallen. What a bunch of dickless wonders. No-one cares one iota whether they lose this long-standing customer or not. There's no commercial ambition, no sense of pride and no empathy for the customer. This is the kind of dismally poor service that makes you want to see their business fail and go down the gutter.

The only saving grace in all of this is that the neighbour's open wireless network is still providing faithful service.

I got tired of being able to access the Internet only from the laptop, so I patched the jack in the conservatory onto the home network. With the laptop plugged in there, it's now multi-homed, i.e. on both the home network and the neighbour's wireless network. With IP masquerading and forwarding set up, my laptop is now a router for the other computers in the home, including the Sonos music boxes.

Double masquerading via a Linux laptop and an insecure wireless gateway managed by some arbitrary person here in the neighbourhood won't win any beauty contests, but hey, it works and all of my boxes can get to the outside world again. And, let's not forget, It's providing better service for free than the KPN and XS4ALL have been able to provide me with since I moved. Useless tossers.

At this point, I begrudge XS4ALL another cent, but I'm afraid they might still be the best of a bad bunch. Better the devil you know and all that.

To avoid further disappointment, I'm now aiming for restored service by the end of November. That ought to be attainable, right? Right?

Amsterdam is the most multicultural city in the world, it was announced yesterday. With 177 nationalities represented amongst its inhabitants, it leads the Flemish city of Antwerp, which is home to a mere 164. New York is in third place, with 150.

The population of the Dutch capital city is a mere 743,104, which perhaps makes its position at the top of the list all the more surprising. New York, by way of contrast, has 21,976,224 inhabitants. On the other hand, Antwerp has only 466,203, making it even more impressive.

Of course, being multicultural says nothing about how well each of those cultures is integrated with the others. That's an entirely different matter.

Finally.

The moment everyone who cares about their lungs, their children's lungs, their clothes, their hair, their nostrils and their tastebuds has been dreaming about, has arrived.

The Dutch cabinet today ruled that all hotels, cafés and restaurants must be smoke-free from 1st July 2008. Coffee-shops have been given a break: only their point of sale must be smoke-free.

Minister Klink of Volksgezondheid (Public Health) is my hero.

Now the rest of Europe.

I've been browsing through the Gemeentearchief's Beeldbank (the municipal archive's image bank) and was delighted to find old photos of the Koningslaan, Oranje Nassaulaan and Prins Hendriklaan.

Amongst the photos are pictures of the original drawings and planning submissions for several of the neighbourhood's most striking and characteristic buildings.

Our photos of Koninginnedag 2007 are up. They're not as good as I'd hoped, but they still capture the atmosphere of the day.

The weather was perhaps the best ever on Koninginnedag, with uninterrupted sunshine for the duration of the day. The temperature was pleasantly warm without ever becoming too hot.

Sarah was the earliest to rise, up and out the door at 07:00 in order to snap up the early morning bargains with Mina along the Apollolaan. I rose soon afterwards, as a disconsolate Eloïse had just awoken and was now wondering where the hell her mother had gone so early in the day without her.

All in all, it was a long, but very gezellige day.

April 2007 isn't even over, but it's already the warmest April ever in The Netherlands. It's also the driest calendar month in 100 years; and it's not even a summer month!

Of all of the Aprils since 1900, there have only been 14 with a day in which the temperature rose above 25°. April 2007 has already had 6 such days and more are expected before the end of the month.

The broken records for April go on:

• The temperature was, on average, 5°C higher than normal.
• There were more hours of sun than ever before.
• The first >25° day was never before so early in the year: 14th April
• It has never been so dry for so long before. Some parts of the country have had no rain since 22nd March.

Will it be the warmest Koninginnedag ever next week? We'll see.

It's official. According to a study by the UN children's organisation, UNICEF, Dutch children are the happiest and enjoy the greatest well-being.

The study looked at the children of 21 wealthy western countries and The Netherlands came out on top, ahead of predictable Scandinavian stalwarts Sweden, Denmark and Finland.

At the other end of the spectrum, the unhappiest children in the western world can be found in the US, in 20th place, and the UK, right at the bottom of the pile in 21st place.

This BBC article gives some good background to the study with insightful quotes from Dutch teenagers.

According to this USA Today article, the British government has criticised the report, claiming that some of the data used in the study is five years old and therefore does not reflect recent improvements in child well-being in the UK. How reassuring it must be to British parents to know that their government has actually been concerned about their children for some five whole years now. Unsurprisingly, UK politicians in opposition parties believe the findings of the study.

Both the BBC and the USA Today article make for good reading, especially if you're a parent. You can find more using Google.

If you don't have time to read the 52 page full report, you can suffice with this UNICEF press release. The BBC has also put together a list of the key points at a glance.

With The Netherlands continuing to top the Reporters Without Borders Press Freedom Index in 2006, there are currently at least two profoundly good things to feel happy about as a resident of this small, wet country.

In a new report published by the press organisation, [Reporters Without Borders], The Netherlands has managed to achieve equal first ranking on the list of countries with the greatest press freedom. It shares the top spot with fellow Europeans, Finland, Ireland and Iceland.

This is especially encouraging, given the current political climate sweeping the globe, which threatens personal freedom and privacy on many levels, not least of which the ability of the press to go about their business unmolested.

A free press is something that ought to be able to be taken for granted, especially in countries that make a very vocal point of proclaiming freedom as their very raison d'être. How does the freer-than-thou US fare in this report? It comes in a depressing, yet not altogether surprising equal 53rd, alongside Croatia, Tonga and Botswana. Even Chile and Israel score better. Dude!

The US's great ally, the UK, another chest-beating, rabble-rousing champion of liberty, manages a slightly better 27th place. By Jove, surely not?

My conclusion: just as countries with the word 'Democratic' in their official name seldom actually are, so, too, should nations that harp on incessantly about freedom be mistrusted. Those countries that actually do offer their citizens a semblance of liberty generally seem to get on with it in silence. Perhaps that's because only illusions need reinforcement.

Forgive me if I sound a little smug. I'm not; I assure you. There is much for me to be concerned about, but, for one brief moment, there is also something to actually smile about.

We biked down to the Dienst Persoonsgegevens on the Johan Huizingalaan today to pick up Sarah's verblijfsvergunning (residence permit). After nearly nine months, she can finally hold it in her hand. And, less than two months from now, she'll be receiving the letter about having it renewed and the fun can begin anew.

Amusingly, they gave her a little welcome package, which consisted of a map and a book about living in Amsterdam. It's particularly funny and rather quaint to be receiving a map some nine months after her arrival. She's pretty good about finding her way around these days.

Now the process of inburgering (mandatory integration) begins. Sarah is expected to undergo 600 hours of education on the Dutch language, the people and our society. By the time she gets to the end of that, she'll undoubtedly know more about The Netherlands than the average Dutch person. She has an interview a couple of weeks from now to determine exactly what her needs are, as each person gets an inburgering tailored to his or her specific background and existing knowledge of all things Dutch.

Sarah's folks have been staying here for a few days, visiting us and a few attractions, such as Keukenhof. We also went to Alkmaar one day, walked down a couple of streets, had lunch and came home again. It wasn't much of an experience.

Koninginnedag went off well. In spite of poor weather predictions, it stayed dry, although it was chilly at times when the sun wasn't shining. Sarah's parents were amazed by what they witnessed and appeared to enjoy themselves.

The vrijmarkt in the Vondelpark was really gezellig. Amazingly, that's pretty much the first Koninginnedag that I've done more than glance at what was happening in the park.

It was particularly lovely to start Koninginnedag just a couple of minutes' walk from the park. Since it was a public holiday, people had made full use of the parking exemption, rendering our street chockablock with vehicles. People had even parked on the pavement.

In the park, things were in full swing. Only children are allowed to engage in commercial activities, so there is a great atmosphere in the park, with lots of little girls and boys dancing, manning home-made fairground attractions and selling their old toys. That'll be our little family in years to come.

We made our way through the park, experiencing difficulty as we tried not to lose each other. We passed over the Leidseplein and headed down the Prinsengracht towards the Jordaan, ultimately aiming for the Brouwersgracht, but it was not to be. It was simply too busy and the human traffic eventually ground to a halt, so we turned back via the Jordaan's many side streets.

Refreshments were needed before we could go any further, so we stopped for a drink on the Spuistraat. There, we met up with Bas and Kylie, who had flown over from England the day before and were experiencing their first Koninginnedag in Amsterdam.

We made the mistake of trying to walk down the Leidsestraat to head south and ended up getting wedged between the masses of unmoving people. It certainly wouldn't have done to have a claustrophobic disposition, I can tell you.

Once we had made it past the Leidseplein, it was a pleasant walk back home through the Vondelpark. Bas, Kylie and I went out for dinner at a local Indonesian restaurant that evening.

So, that was Koninginnedag.

What else has been going on?

Well, we've finally ordered our family silver. There's a twelve week delivery time, so I'm just going to forget about what I'm going to have to pay for our 144 piece set when it arrives.

Also on order are a couple of Maxalto armchairs, which will complement the couch we've ordered for the sitting room. We're still searching for a glass coffee table for that room.

On the Amstelveenseweg, just around the corner from us, we found a shop with a lovely wall panel for hanging coats and hats. Since we didn't even have a coat stand in our foyer, we purchased this, which Gerard came around on Monday and hung up for us. Now we finally have somewhere to hang our hat, so to speak.

Sticking with the house, the painter was here yesterday to paint over the window frames of the new burglar-resistant panes of glass we had fitted at the back of the house. It's looking nice out there again now.

We also entertained our lower-numbered neighbours for the first time earlier this week, in spite of the lack of seating until our new stuff arrives. It went off very well, thanks in no small part to Sarah's signature chocolate dessert. Mother and daughter inevitably flapped and clashed about exactly how much preparation is necessitated by such a momentous occasion (lots vs. hardly any), but all was well on the night.

Sarah's folks took the train to Rouen yesterday for a few days in Normandy. They'll be back again Monday evening.

Soon after they depart in mid-May, Geoff and Jason, my old Google friends, will be turning up for SANE 2006. Geoff's the only guy I know who will have been to SANE twice with Google footing the bill. Nice one, Geoff!

As soon as those guys leave, Sarah, Eloïse and I will be leaving for our next foreign trip, which will almost certainly be to Czechia and Slovakia. We really need to do some reading in preparation.

The weather really couldn't be better at the moment. The sun is blazing and it's 23°C outside. The house is heating up and I can tell it's going to be a difficult place to keep cool in summer. The garden is in bloom and the weeping willows in the Vondelpark have regained their foliage in just a few weeks.

Oh, and it looks like we have a mouse problem. We haven't seen one yet, but the tell-tale signs are there. Sigh.

We reached an important bureaucratic milestone today. After some eight months of letters back and forth between us and the IND, we finally received word today of their decision to grant Sarah her application for a verblijfsvergunning (residence permit).

She's been granted an initial period of one year, backdated to the date that the application was submitted. The bureaucratic road has been meandering for so long, that this means she has but four more months until the permit will need to be renewed. Exactly how much renewed bureaucracy will ensue at that time remains to be seen, but I'm hopeful that, once granted, the permit will be considerably easier to renew than it is to initially obtain.

Much, if not all, of the awkwardness in our case was caused by the fact that Sarah's sponsor (that's me, her husband) is unemployed. The IND is simply not set up to deal with applications from people whose sponsors are not working, a student, an au-pair, a man of the cloth, a diplomat, a foreign journalist, etc., etc.

Proving that I could ensure that Sarah would not be a burden on the Dutch state was thus not as easy as simply producing an employment contract. Instead, I had to show evidence of independent means. Things got an order of magnitude messier when, after demonstrating that I could financially support Sarah, the IND tried to disqualify our assets from consideration by pointing out that no Dutch tax had been paid on them. The fact that no Dutch tax was yet due on them seemed to them to be an irrelevant detail.

When I pointed out that they could not reasonably expect me to prove that I had paid tax that was not yet due and thus could not yet be paid, they conceded, but then immediately countered by demanding to see a copy of the 2004 tax return that I had filed whilst living in the US.

It's a game of chess, you see? Since governmental departments are a monopoly (you can't just go to a competitor and get a residence permit from them), you have no choice but to deal with them. And no matter how stupid and time-consuming each of their requests is, the only pragmatic course of action is to comply with it.

I don't often recommend the path of least resistance, but where bureaucratic governmental departments are concerned, it's the only sane choice. You see, each request with which you comply effective removes another chess piece from the board. Ultimately, after you have fulfilled each and every one of their requests, there will be nothing left to ask of you, except perhaps that you bring back a piece of the moon on your next trip.

Anyway, the whole process ultimately took so long that our 2005 taxes eventually did become due in The Netherlands. Predictably, the IND responded by requesting a copy of the filing, which I duly supplied. And with that manoeuvre, I captured their queen and put their king in checkmate. As I said, we'll be having a rematch at the end of August.

So Sarah now has to wait for the local council to contact for with an appointment to pick up her shiny new residence permit. Once she has that, the whole process of inburgering will be just around the corner. They like to keep life interesting over here.

Country-wide elections were held today for the city councils and their individual boroughs. I voted for Groen Links (the green left), both for my local borough of Oud Zuid and the Amsterdam municipal council. They lost a couple of seats in Amsterdam, but didn't do at all badly compared to the CDA (Christian democrats) and some other parties.

The big winner, not just in Amsterdam, but across the country, is the PvdA (labour party). The SP (socialist party) is the other big winner, which means that city councils all over the country are now going to become left-wing alliances. This is great news, even though the party I actually voted for didn't do as well as I'd hoped.

This election result appears to be strong evidence of the populace punishing the national government at the municipal level for myopic and polarised policies. I, for one, think this bodes well for the next four years.

Godverdomme! Ik ben erin gestonken; erin geluisd, beter gezegd.

Het is een fenomeen van de laatste jaren, blijkbaar. Kom ik terug uit de VS na zo'n 5,5 jaar en wat beheerst anno 2005 mijn beeldscherm? Juist, de belspellen. RTL4, SBS6, Veronica... overal kom je die troep weer tegen. Goedkope zendtijd is het gewoon. Een niet-bewegende camera, een woordenspel dat geraden moet worden, een telefoon- en SMS-nummer onder aan het scherm, en een of andere snol die doet alsof er nog helemaal niemand het juiste antwoord geraden heeft.

Dat doen alsof neemt doorgaans de vorm van een even overdreven als talentloze acteerprestatie die zelfs het niveau van de overdaagse soapseries niet haalt. Echt zoiets van "Nou, dit hebben we hier in de studio nog nooit meegemaakt, mensen. Niemand weet het gewoon. Misschien komt dat wel door het tijdstip. Ja, het zou kunnen. Het is wel zondagochtend, hoor. Er zijn een hoop mensen naar de kerk of die nog lekker aan het uitslapen zijn, maar jij gelukkig niet. Jij zit gewoon televisie te kijken en jij weet misschien het antwoord. Weet je het dan eigenlijk wel? Bel dan toch gewoon! Ja, want er staat wel €2000 op het spel. Twee duizend euro, mensen. Gegarandeerd, hoor! Dat is me toch wat. €2000, zeg! Stel je voor wat je daar allemaal mee kan doen. En dan net voor de Kerst ook nog. Dat is toch helemaal te gek? Dit geld staat vandaag nog op jouw rekening. Het enige wat je hoeft te doen is bellen. Kom op, zeg! Ik snap het niet, hoor. Zouden we het te moeilijk hebben gemaakt? O, wat erg. Het programma zit er eigenlijk al bijna op, maar dit geld moet gewoon vandaag nog vergeven worden. Dat hebben we gegarandeerd. Mensen, ik hoor het net van mijn regisseur: we gaan net zo lang door, totdat we een winnaar hebben. Dus bel maar!"

Tja, je raakt al gauw geïrriteerd door dit soort flauwe onzin. Binnen een paar minuten gaat die irritatie echter over in regelrechte walging voor de onsmakelijke manier waarop men de kijker tot bellen of SMS'en aanzet. 80 cent per ontvangen bericht of een dergelijk bedrag per minuut als je ouderwets de hoorn gebruikt.

Maar er klopt iets niet, hè? Het raadsel is veel te simpel. Hoe kan het toch nou zijn dat er helemaal niemand het al geraden heeft? En dat zouden ze toch ook niet willen, zou je denken, want dan zouden ze met hun televisieprogramma nog minder dan één euro verdienen voor dat ene winnende telefoontje of SMS'je.

Tot gisteren ging ik ervan uit dat ze gewoon verzwegen dat er al iemand gebeld had met het juiste antwoord. Smerig dus, maar gisteren zei de wel zeer irritante belspeldel op de buis uitdrukkelijk dat er nog helemaal geen juist antwoord was binnengekomen. En, ja hoor, toen ontstond dus ook bij mij de verleiding...

Zou er toevallig echt nog niemand dat woord hebben gezien? Het was toch niet zo moeilijk? Maar het was inderdaad zondagochtend; zou er dan werelijk toch bijna niemand naar kijken? Misschien niet, want wie gaat er nou voor zijn plezier naar zoiets kijken? Je komt die bagger eigenlijk alleen maar al zappend tegen en dan weet je gewoon niet hoe snel je verder moet. Maar op de een of andere manier was ik dus blijven hangen. Zou ik dan daarin een van de weinigen zijn?

Tja, voor 80 cent €2500 binnenhalen; ook ik vind dat leuk, natuurlijk. Dan maar bellen met het juiste antwoord. Geen zin in een live gesprek met die verschrikkelijke trut op de televisie, maar vooruit dan maar. We gaan ervoor. Hier met die poen!

Niet dus.

Wat blijkt? De opgenomen stem aan de telefoon vertelt doodleuk dat ik de negende beller ben en er wordt telkens alleen antwoord aangenomen van elke tiende beller.

Godgloeinde! Dat zetten ze mooi niet tussen de kleine lettertjes onder aan het scherm! Hoe durven ze het? Je wordt uitgenodigd om te bellen als je het juiste antwoord weet, je weet het antwoord dan ook gewoon, jou wordt verteld dat die €2500 gewoon van jou is, want er is verder niemand anders die het antwoord weet... Tja, iedereen heeft zijn grenzen, ik dus ook, en dan ga je dus bellen. Als het er toch voor het oprapen ligt, waarom dan niet?

Puur fraude dus. Al zoekende op internet kom ik verrassend genoeg geen verhalen tegen van mensen die zich hierdoor gedupeerd voelen. Zou ik dan de enige zijn? Van hoeveel mensen peuteren ze op deze oneerlijke manier 80 cent los? Hoeveel mensen krijgen hierdoor de verkeerde smaak te pakken en gaan dan keer op keer bellen in de hoop een keertje op een meervoud van tien uit te komen? Tja, als er al eerlijk wordt verteld welk nummer je nou eigenlijk bent. Wedden dat je ook wel honderd keer kan bellen om steeds maar te horen dat je een bellernummer tussen de 1 en de 9 hebt? Ik had geen zin om erachter te komen en zodoende nog kwader te worden.

Ik ben erin gestonken. Ik neem het vooral mezelf kwalijk dat ik ben bezweken, door de knieën gegaan voor zoiets stoms. Nu behoor ik tot in de eeuwigheid tot die groep mensen die zichzelf ingeluisde onnozele sukkels mogen noemen. Tja. Ik dus. Ben ik soms nog niet cynisch genoeg? Balen, man.

Anderzijds vind ik dit zoals gezegd puur fraude, want je kan gewoon niet weten dat jouw antwoord hooguit 10% kans maakt om geaccepteerd te worden. Dat zeggen ze er mooi niet bij en men doet alsof er gewoon niet gebeld wordt, alsof niemand het weet en alsof jij gewoon slimmer bent dan al die andere kijkers.

Nee, mensen; ik heb voor mezelf eens te meer bewezen dat ik net zo ongelooflijk dom ben als al die andere sukkels die iets voor niets denken te kunnen bemachtigen.

It's nice to live in a country that actually gives some of the money it collects in taxes back to the population, rather than blowing it all on military aggression. On the other hand, they certainly do know how to collect their pound of flesh here; dear oh dear.

Let's look at cars, for example, where it all starts with the purchase. Not only does one have to contend with BTW (Belasting Toegevoegde Waarde), the Dutch VAT, at 19%; but there's also BPM (Belasting op Personenauto’s en Motorrijwielen), the tax on passenger vechicles and motorbikes. That clocks in at a staggering 45.2%. There are slightly different formulas for petrol and diesel engines, but what it amounts to is that between 56.5% and 65.8% of the price is tax. If one compares car prices here with those of the same models in the US, one almost faints from the shock.

Then we have motorrijtuigenbelasting, motor vehicle tax. The amount you pay depends on where you live, whether you have a diesel, petrol or LPG vehicle, and the weight of the vehicle (SUV owners beware!). Noord-Holland is the province with the lowest tax (don't ask me why), but reckon on €700+ per year for a 1750 kg vehicle.

And the petrol? Thanks to the combination of excise and BTW, 67.2% of the price per litre at the pump goes to the government; and this country has the highest petrol prices in all of Europe. If you have a diesel car, that's 56.9%. LPG vehicle owners escape with a measly 28.1% tax obligation.

Even the damn car insurance premium is taxed with assurantiebelasting, insurance tax at 7%.

Man, paying for that new Audi A6 in January is going to be fun.

And what about our new house? Well, it's not new, which is to say that somebody already owns it. That means we have to pay overdrachtsbelasting, transfer tax, at 6%. If it were newly built, it would be even worse, as we'd have to pay BTW at 19%.

Then, of course, we have property tax or onroerende-zaakbelasting, as it's known here. This differs by city, but is broken down into two parts: an owner's part and a user's part. The owner is simply the owner of the property, the user the person who lives there. If the owner and the user are the same person, that person is responsible for paying both parts. The existence of a user's part may have led you to conclude that property tax is also paid here by people who rent property, as well as people who own it. This is correct.

In Amsterdam, the formula for the owner's part is €1.44 per €2268 of property value. The user's part is €1.15 per €2268 of property value. For the purposes of this formula, the property value is not the purchase price. Rather, it is the Waardering Onroerende Zaken (WOZ) value of the property, which is a value assigned to it by a local council assessment, which takes place every few years. This is generally lower than the actual purchase price of the property.

Ignoring the minor yearly fees for sewage and water management, we're left with the eigenwoningforfait, literally the 'own home forfeiture'. This is a tax on woongenot or -- wait for it -- living enjoyment. That's right, the Dutch government taxes you, based on the assumption that you will derive pleasure from living in property that you own.

For property with a value greater than €75,000, the amount calculated is 0.6% of the WOZ value of the property, with a maximum of €8500. However, this is not the amount of actual tax you pay. Rather, that amount is considered to be extra income, so it's added to your annual income and consequently taxed as such, so you pay according to whichever income tax bracket you happen to fall into.

They say there are only two things you can be sure of in this life. Firstly, you will pay taxes. Secondly, you will die. Tja...

I haven't done more than scratch the surface, of course. Vermogensrendementsheffing (asset tax), income tax and a host of others are enough to make your toes curl.

The fact that the government here levies taxes hardly makes it unique, but it does levy a lot of them in comparison with other countries. In spite of this, I'm happy to be back, as I feel that the money is more constructively and wisely spent than in many other places; certainly than in the US, my erstwhile abode.

We arrived back from Switzerland Monday morning at about 10:15, half an hour or so behind the train's schedule. I realised we'd be late when the conductor woke us for breakfast at around 08:00, as I checked my mobile phone and saw that it was roaming on a German network. Sure enough, we stopped in Emmerich soon afterwards: no way we'd get from there to Amsterdam in one hour and forty minutes.

Our first trip to Switzerland was a great success. After a few days in Zürich, we took the train to Bern and then on to Fribourg, where we witnessed Saint-Nicolas (or Samiklaus in German) ride into town on a donkey, then ascend the steps of the cathedral to its balcony, where he gave the assembled masses an entertaining speech about globalism, capitalism, fame-seeking and other hot topics. I didn't catch all of it, as my French is shite, but I got something out of it.

We stayed in Fribourg for a couple of days, having lunch with Roman, Carine and her parents in a suburb of the city on the last day.

On the way back to Zürich in the car with Roman, we passed through the pretty town of Solothurn, stopping at a wonderful non-smoking café for a welcome cup of hot chocolate.

Back in Zürich, we had a bite to eat with Roman and then took the bus into town to catch the train.

The train was a lot of fun, I have to say. Being served breakfast and decent hot coffee in your own compartment first thing in the morning is a very pleasant treat to which to allow oneself to succumb. The only downside is trying to avoid baring one's arse at precisely the moment the train happens to pull into a packed station.

It's somehow very relaxing to sit in a chair in the dim light of a cold, northern European winter morning and watch the world outside slowly perk up as an invisible sun rises into the sky. The only other night train I'd ever been on was the train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai in Thailand. That trip made a big impression on me, too.

I look forward to using the international train again next year, although I'm not sure where we'll go next.

The new 14th edition of the Van Dale Woordenboek Van De Nederlandse Taal (Van Dale Dictionary Of The Dutch Language) was released today, or the dikke Van Dale, as it is more colloquially and lovingly known here. This definitive dictionary of the Dutch language appears in a new edition only once every six to eight years.

I bought the 12th edition when it came out in 1992, but passed on the 13th in 1999. After all, it's an expensive, three volume set and doesn't change that much from one edition to the other. Since I no longer own that copy of the 12th edition, I was eager to purchase the new 14th edition upon its release today. I'm enough of a linguistic nerd that I'd actually been looking forward to this event since earlier this year, when I was still living in California and heard that a new edition would be released in the autumn.

For the first time, the dikke Van Dale has been released in two different versions, a limited version and a plain (for want of a better word) version. The limited version contains an extra volume, the Grote Spellingsgids, a comprehensive spelling guide. I've only glanced at this volume so far, but it looks very useful, so I'm happy I chose to purchase this version of the set. The limited edition also comes with a numbered certificate, which contains a code that can be entered on-line and used to order a personalised certificate. Unfortunately, that bit doesn't seem to work for me. Perhaps Van Dale hasn't got that part working properly yet or maybe the code on my certificate is a dud.

This edition of the dictionary also contains a digital version of the contents on CD-ROM. Previously, the CD-ROM was only available as a separate, expensive product. As a nice extra touch, the publisher has scanned and made available on the CD-ROM the very first edition of the dictionary, dating from 1864.

One neologism that has made it into the dictionary this time around is googelen, the Dutch version of 'to google', which is defined as 'to search on the Internet, to use information to perform research via the Internet' (the translation to English is obviously mine). The etymological data (printed in blue for the first time in this edition -- I told you I'm a nerd) gives the derivation of the word as coming from th 'English to google, which in turn is derived from Google, the name of a popular search-engine.

It's interesting to see that the trend seen in English, namely to use the word for the general act of searching for information, not just using Google, is paralleled in at least one other European language. I smell more work for the trademark lawyers, as they swim against the current of linguistic evolution and attempt to stop their privately owned word from becoming another sellotape, hoover, aspirin or spam.

It's unbelievable, really, but the summer still hasn't ended here. Basically, there has been more or less constant glorious sunshine since we arrived here on 12th August. It's going to be an extremely rude awakening when autumn does finally set in.

Yesterday, we walked over to Artis, the Amsterdam zoo, and purchased year-long membership for the two of us. Wiesje, of course, is still young enough to get in for free. We decided to leave the inside animals, such as the reptile house and aquarium, for what they were (on account of the great weather) and concentrated instead on the outside animals. It was especially great to see the new lion cubs and the elephant calf.

That was a lot of fun, but we didn't get to see everything we wanted to, so we went back again today and saw the seals being fed, plus the penguins. Having membership is great, as it means we can go as often as we like over the next twelve months. By that time, Eloïse will hopefully be interested in what she sees. As of this week, the elephants, tigers, giraffes, gibbons, penguins, polar bear and Uncle Tom Cobbly and all leave her absolutely cold.

Next time there's less than ideal weather and we have nothing better to do, we'll go back and look at the inside animals.

Funny; that's three visits to two different zoos in the last couple of weeks, which must be a record for me.

Geoff isn't here yet. I thought he'd be arriving on the 12th, but it turns out that he only leaves California on the 12th, so he won't arrive here until the morning. Another ex-Google friend, Brian, will be joining us on Friday for a hamburger somewhere in town. It was something of a tradition back in California to eat a burger at Clarke's every Friday. When I announced I was moving back to Amsterdam, the idea arose to have a burger in Amsterdam on 14th October. Not as many people are coming for the Dutch burger, but you have to admire their enthusiasm. I only hope I can offer a burger joint that doesn't disappoint.

Every time I write an entry here of late, I freak out my mother-in-law, who worries that we're not going to be happy here and have burned all of our bridges back to the US.

For that reason, I thought I should explicitly state some of the positives. Here goes.

Well, first of all, there's the food. It's so nice to be in a country that has bakeries again. Even Vroom & Dreesman has a great bakery these days. Then, there's the supermarket. The local Albert Heijn is a small concern, but it still has boterkoekjes, gangmakers, gevulde koeken, stroopwafels, kwark, vla and other favourites. Plus, let's not forget: bread. Yes, we can once again enjoy the gastronomic delight of tasty bread.

On the other hand, I don't know where you'd go for a decent milkshake or Mexican food. Bollocks; why can't you have everything in this life?

Walking is another advantage of living in Amsterdam. You can pretty much walk anywhere to reach your destination. You don't need a car, you often don't need a bike, and the same applies to public transport. We can just drop Wiesje into the sling, walk somewhere, do our business and leave again. No farting around with getting her in and out of a car seat. Furthermore, the walk is a pleasant one, too, along canals, narrow alleys and beautiful houses. It's a far cry from traversing the car park of the bloody San Antonio shopping centre.

Television is not to be forgotten, either. BBC1 and BBC2 are back on our screens, plus all of the Dutch and Flemish channels. Lots of news background programmes, interesting documentaries, nature programmes, foreign films and what have you. It's only television, but it's a breath of fresh air after American television. If only we could get HBO, Sundance and IFC as well. And let's not forget AT5, with its pleasingly amateur coverage of all things Amsterdam. AT5, how I have missed thee.

Good mobile phone coverage. Yes, it's another minor point, but I don't hit any dead spots with my new Nokia Communicator 9500. On the other hand, there's no flat rate available for Internet access (you pay per Kb instead) and there are virtually no open WLANs in this city to use to grab my mail over 802.11b. It's amazing to me, but virtually all WLANs in this city are at least trivially secured. In Silicon Valley, you can get WLAN access virtually anywhere.

Culture. There's no much going on here. In the last two weeks alone, we've had SAIL 2005 and the Uitmarkt. Those are pretty unusual, but the city is simply teeming with galleries, museums, buildings of historic interest, cinemas, theatres, concert halls, etc. There are plays and concerts every evening of the week at multiple locations. Not much use to us without a babysitter, but there you go.

The relaxed pace of life. I'm not sure this one should be listed just yet. Essentially, it's a positive, but it can also mask apathy, disinterest, lack of motivation, etc. We've run into some of those factors over the last couple of weeks and it has given me a strong reminder of how it was to work in many a Dutch office, where mediocre performance and poor results are good enough and few people are driven to extraordinary achievement. Yes, a little bit of American has creeped into my soul.

Life is a little easier now than it was a week ago. Things still feel strange, but not as strange as they did. Hopefully, this trend will continue and we'll wake up one day and think, 'Hey, I feel completely at home here (again).' That will be a joyous day.

Finally, I can reveal to you the plan that has been in place for, well, I no longer even know how long; more than one year, but less than four, that's for sure.

So, without further ado, beating about the bush, procrastination, delaying tactics or stalling: Sarah and I are moving to The Netherlands on 12th August; back to Amsterdam, to be precise.

In anticipation of this move, I have resigned from my position at Google and am now serving out my notice. My last day of work is expected to be 2nd August, but I'll be using up a couple of weeks of accrued holiday prior to that.

We have also given notice on our house, so we've pretty much sealed our fate on this side of the Atlantic. On the other side of the ocean, we have rented a house in the gezellige neighbourhood of Amsterdam known as de Jordaan and are looking forward to moving in.

As most of our friends know, we've actually had the plan of moving back to The Netherlands every year since 2002, primarily because I would reliably reach an annual point whereby I felt I couldn't stand another moment living in the US.

Somehow, with considerable encouragement and propping up from Sarah, I would manage to find it in myself each time to persevere with the pursuit of significant financial gain, rather than yield to the more immediately gratifying option of resigning and leaving behind the misery of living in the US.

The idea was that, if I could just bend over and take it like a man for a few more years, it might just end up being the very last time that I would be beholden to another person or institution for a living. Sarah was right; it made sound financial sense, but it went against the grain, because I have never before opted to remain in a situation that I felt was soul-destroying. It was hard and there were a multitude of moments along the way at which my spirit flagged.

This all makes it sound as if Google has been a horrible place to work, but that's actually far from being the case. On the contrary, the company has been incredibly good to me, paying me handsomely, feeding and massaging me, taking care of all of my US immigration bureaucracy and, most recently, allowing me a stupendous seven weeks of paternity leave. It's hard to have complaints about treatment like that.

No, it's more the case that the US for me, personally, has shown itself to be an incredibly suffocating and toxic place to live. I could ramble on incessantly about my experiences as a stranger in this strange land, but suffice it to say that I have experienced this country as obsessively politically correct, environmentally irresponsible, globally contemptuous, geographically ignorant, woefully poorly educated, historically oblivious, gullible, jingoistic, beligerent, falsely proud, maniacally religious, selfish, greedy, poorly integrated, uncaring, apathetic and generally bereft of any sense of community or collective purpose beyond self-aggrandisement, a pursuit fuelled by the usual government-instigated sabre-rattling and concoction of a common enemy du jour.

As usual, the rest of the world gets dragged along in the wake of this clumsy playground bully of a nation, sending shockwaves rippling across the entire globe, consequences with which the rest of us must live.

Again, another disclaimer is perhaps in order. I have nothing against Americans as individuals. I have many good friends who happen to be American (er, Sarah, for example) and they, too, are appalled by what they see happening to this country. They, too, are sickened by the religious psychosis of their so-called leaders and the apathy or resignation with which this is generally met by their fellow citizens.

It seems that after decades upon decades of being governed by self-serving profiteers in a two-party system, Americans as a people have come to expect no better. Huge numbers of them are resigned to the fact that, no matter who is in power, they are pretty much fucked anyway and at the mercy of whichever flavour of glib liar happens to inhabit the whitehouse at the time.

As an alien (such a lovely word), it's time to put my money where my mouth is and extricate myself and my family from the system. My feet are itching to walk on board a plane and distance myself from all of the god-fearing, Bush-voting, flag-waving, chest-beating, SUV-driving, latte-sipping numbskulls with a 'Support Our Troops' bumper sticker. You may all collectively kiss my arse.

It's time to pull the plug and resume real life where I left it five and a half years ago, far away from the tinseltown that is Silicon Valley. Thankfully, Sarah shares my belief that a better life awaits her elsewhere, so there's never been any disagreement over the decision to leave. With little Eloïse recently having put in an appearance, the timing really couldn't be better, as Sarah's life has also reached an important watershed.

Will I miss anything about the US? Definitely. Friday lunches with friends at Clarke's; free refills on soft drinks; criminally good milkshakes at The Creamery; Krispy Kreme; Pizza Chicago; the innumerable good places to get breakfast at the weekend; the scenery of the hills around the peninsula; biking up the beautiful Marin Headlands and looking down over San Francisco Bay; the Californian coastline; the wonderful National Park Service; the many squirrels in our area; the colourful birds that fly in our skies; the balmy climate; the relatively close proximity to Hawaii (a pleasant 5 hour flight from here); the amount of personal space living in an uncrowded part of the world affords you; and, not to be forgotten, having worked for one of the hottest and most influential companies currently on the planet, alongside the smartest team of sysadmins I have ever had the pleasure of calling my colleagues.

But that really does sum up the good points about living here, as far as I'm concerned. Every other aspect of living in the US irks me and has slowly eroded my patience to the point whereby I can no longer leave the house and walk in any direction of the compass for sixty seconds without being riled by some trivial, yet cogent testament to stupidity or grotesqueness. Fuck this shit; enough is enough.

So, what's next for us? In the immediate future, full-time parenthood. Eloïse won't be a baby for long, so we intend to enjoy every moment of her burgeoning youth and miss out on nothing. Obviously, that means that neither of us has any plans to work for the foreseeable future.

Naturally, some things cannot be put off. Sarah will enrol in Dutch language classes and I will be attempting to shed the 20+ kilos of tripe and flab that I have gained since moving to the US. Both of these projects will take some time to complete, although I sincerely hope to no longer be a fat bastard some time before Sarah can speak fluent Dutch.

Our new home is a six month lease with the option to renew for a further six months. We chose this particular construction, because we intend to quickly begin the search for a more permanent home to purchase. (Thanks, by the way, to Marc and Jo for viewing the property and voicing your opinions.)

In the meantime, the supermarket is just a few doors away, with a natural supermarket just a little further up in the same street. In fact, our street has its own home page, with a list of every business that operates there.

It's going to be so nice to be able to push Eloïse in her pram when we need to do groceries, rather than having to take the car. Indeed, we have no plans to own a car in Amsterdam, as bicycles and public transport will cover almost every eventuality. For the other occasions, there's Greenwheels.

In the longer term, Sarah and I will both need to find ways to socialise and achieve intellectual fulfilment, the most obvious voids created by the vacuum of our abandoned jobs. Sarah will have her Dutch classes and a mother's group; I have a number of computer projects that I can work on, but those are solitary pursuits, so the need for socialisation will remain.

I may therefore look into starting my own company. I'm currently considering what exactly such a venture would offer, but I'm sure it would have something to do with the Internet and possibly also music. I'm also entertaining the idea of running a coffee and cake shop, although I'd probably want to find an experienced partner to join me in such an endeavour, because I know bugger all about the catering business.

Lastly, I intend to show Sarah around Europe and then the rest of the world. We have a lot of ground to cover before Eloïse reaches schooling age. I've promised friends in Switzerland and New Zealand that we will visit them soon after relocating, so I have to make good on those promises, too.

So, just in case you were in any doubt, I can assure you that we're going to have no shortage of things to do. Between caring for Eloïse , Dutch lessons, house-hunting, world travel, our hobbies and looking into business ventures, we're not going to find ourselves twiddling our thumbs in boredom any time soon.

Sarah and I are both very excited at the prospect of living in Amsterdam (again). Whilst we've been extremely privileged during our time in Silicon Valley, it's been taxing, too, and I, for one, am feeling quite exhausted after the last half decade here. I'm looking forward to slowly recharging my batteries over the course of the next couple of years, Eloïse 's demands notwithstanding.

As luck would have it, we already have our first visitor booked to come and stay with us. My good friend Geoff has already purchased his plane ticket and will be coming to stay with us for a week in October. That's going to be a lot of fun.

If you're interested in the area in which we're going to live, check out some of the links below:

• De Elandsgracht

• Photos of the Elandsgracht

• Where is the Elandsgracht?

• Businesses along the Elandsgracht

• Het Claverhuis Community Centre

• Jordaan Info (Dutch)

• Jordaan Info (English)

• jordaanWEB

• Jordaan Online

• Streetmap of de Jordaan

When we eventually get back to The Netherlands, I think I'll be treating myself to a new bike for those weekend jaunts and maybe even the odd biking holiday or two, just like in the mid-nineties. Those were the days.

The new Koga Miyata 2005 model Globe Traveller-S is a beautiful looking trekker. I can't wait to blast off across the country on one of these. That'll replace my 1994 (or was it '95?) model Randonneur.