I Guess Riding the Bus/Tram Isn't So Scary After All

Since arriving in the Netherlands this past fall, I've tried to be open to new experiences and willing to go beyond my normal comfort zone. One thing that I had not mastered until yesterday, however, was the use of public transportation. You might remember that we did manage to use the tram while in Den Hague, but that was only with specific directions from the hotel staff and the old Strippenkaart method. Since last year, the country has been in the process of phasing out the Strippenkaart and introducing the OV-chipkaart. Since the Strippenkaart was developed in 1980 and has been used ever since, it seems like everyone here, Dutch or not, has an opinion on the new method. I was confused about where to buy the new chipkaarts, whether I could use the same card that I had been sent for my train discount pass, and how to load the chipkaart with additional funds. Well, yesterday, in the midst of a trip to Amsterdam to play the 18-hole disc golf course at Sloterpark, I figured out the process. (Yes, I can just use the card I already have. I can load it at the machines or at the customer service desk for an additional 50 euro cents. And, additional, anonymous cards can be purchased in the train station machines.)

Armed with this new information, a loaded card, and a couple tram schedules I picked up at the tourist office in Amsterdam, I found the trams easy to use and navigate. I didn't even get lost! (Well, maybe once, but I knew the tram stop was somewhere along the block. It was just hidden by a huge construction trailer, so I didn't see it immediately. After inquiring at the tourist office, I was on my way.) At first, I wondered if remembering to scan the card when entering and leaving the vehicle would be difficult, but with the number of reminders played along the way, I don't think anyone could forget. Plus, just scanning your card seems a whole lot easier than figuring out which zone you will be traveling to and stamping the right amount of spaces on your Strippenkaart. And, now that I know how to use the trams and the busses, I feel like I have so much more accessibility to places that once seemed too far away.

Anyway, enough with my public transportation rant and on to the rest of my day.

After getting on the first tram in Amsterdam, I went to grab my keys out of the pocket of my jacket. When I left my bike in Utrecht, I stuffed my keys in my pocket and zipped it up, thinking that I needed to transport them to my bag once I got on the train. On the train, I distracted myself with a bit of journaling and forgot to make the switch. Now, on the tram, I reached into a surprisingly unzipped pocket and felt, well, only the bottom of the pocket. I checked the other side, the pocket at the top of my jacket, all four pockets in my jeans, each compartment of my disc golf bag. The keys were nowhere to be seen... or felt. I decided that I must have unzipped the pocket to shove my hand inside and forgotten to rezip it when I got on the train. Since I took my jacket off for the ride, the keys must have fallen out then. I was almost sure they were sitting on the train seat, but the train was long gone and I knew I had to move on with my day. There was nothing I could do at that moment.

When Tram 14 dropped me off at Sloterpark, I looked around. Buildings lined my view on one side. A grassy area was in front, but construction clouded this view. To the other side, a bike and running path led the way to what appeared to additional trails, and I headed that direction, convinced the disc golf course had to be somewhere nearby. I passed the Sloterparkbad, a indoor swimming complex, and tried to decide which direction to turn. Just as I decided to cross the road, I noticed a basket on my side, down one of the many sidewalks. A sense of calm swept over me. It's funny how disc golf has such a powerful and unique affect on me. No matter where I am or what's going on, when I walk onto a course, I feel a sense of belonging. I guess it's the combination of being surrounded by nature and of sharing a common interest with other people who are on the course.

Since, I couldn't immediately find hole 1, so I started my round on the 4th hole. After almost 2 hours of travel, including loading my chipcard, grabbing transportation schedules, and wondering around looking for the tram stop, I was ready to start playing.

Hole 4 - Sloterpark, Amsterdam

Helpful maps, posted at each hole, helped me figure out which way to throw (or at least which way to try to throw).

Map for Hole 4

Sometimes, however, the map didn't tell the whole story. For example, examine the hole on the map below.

Hole 13 Map

Sure, the darker green is supposed to represent some type of vegetation, but I didn't expect to see this:

Hole 13

Still, the course is put together pretty nicely, and the signs definitely did help me figure out where the baskets were located. After playing through hole 18, I found holes 1-3 and began a second round. I let myself play the two rounds for the first 3 holes simultaneously, throwing 2 discs for each of the holes.

After completing both rounds and tallying up my scores, I called Mr. Traveler and updated him on the lost key situation. He agreed to come home a little early and skip going to the gym so that I could get back into the house. Before leaving, I sat on a bench near the final hole and thought about the day so far. In the scheme of things, the lost key seemed like only a blip on the radar. Even lower down on my list of concerns was the growing hole in my jeans, which had expanded from only a little tear to a rather large hole as I climbed over a cement ledge on the course. What stood out to me was a sense of accomplishment. Not only had I treated myself to 2 rounds of disc golf, but I had learned to use the public transportation system and opened new doors for myself in the process.

It was getting cold, so I picked up my bag and began my trek back to Utrecht. Except for a 5 minute train delay, the travel back was uneventful. I even used my new found knowledge to take the bus from Utrecht Centraal to our house. When I exited the bus and rounded the corner to our street, Mr. Traveler pulled up right behind me. Perfect timing to end a less than perfect, but very satisfying day.