Kat got a tattoo the other day! Last year she got some small script on her wrist and now she has added the outline of jasmine flowers. Ever since we started this trip she has gone back and forth on the whole matter, whether to get it en route or just to wait till we return to Austin. There is something to be said about getting the tattoo while in the process of this whole bike affair because even if the image itself loses meaning over time, it will always signify this specific moment in her life.
I don't know if Kat mentioned this or not, but in Berlin, a shopgirl recommended a certain tattoo artist up the street. As is customary, we went to check her out. The shop is called ElfenZauber, which I feel should have prepared us beforehand. The name translates into "Elfen Magic". Elfen Magic! After pouring through all of their photos, I feel like the one below really sums up the whole experience.
Although among the many wall photos like this, I learned they also specialized in realistic tattoos of demonic girls, or boy, I can't tell. And then in the middle of that, one could also get quite a good rendering of Britney Spears circa "Hit Me Baby, One More Time". Kat talked to her for a while, pulling out all her inspiration photos, but it just wasn't a good fit. Off we went to Amsterdam in search of ink. After scoping a couple artists out on the internet, we found Heinki from House of Tattoos, and went to talk to him. Whenever Kat and I have first walked into any tattoo parlor, people always seem to be really gruff--haha, it was totally like walking up to meet the Billy Goats Gruff on the damn bridge! But then with our charm and soothing voices, and Kat got him on the same stylistic page, we slowly coaxed out Heinki's flamboyant side, and yes, it was fabulously flamboyant. When it was time to do the deed, he was confessing his Madonna fan status and showing us youtube videos of Britney Spears' and Beyonce's real singing voices. He also told us stories of he and a friend traveling to perform freak shows at parties; burning each other with irons and stapling themselves...the 'burning' was just a little red die on the bottom of an unplugged iron and well, the stapling was real. He told it with this sighing air of, 'oh, the silly things we did when we were young'. Kat's tattoo turned out really well and unfortunately we have pictures, we just can't get them up on this computer. Ugh, slow computers.
Heinki
We both talk about possible other tattoos we would get in the future, because you know, once you go black ink, you never go back. And I think it's quite telling about our personality differences, because all the images she chooses (trees, botanical root systems) are really grounding, whereas mine (air balloons, boats) are all about flight.
Speaking of body alterations of a less permanent nature, I got a haircut. Apparently certain things (ie. haircuts) are really cheap, while random other things (gallons of house paint) are crazy expensive; 20 euros and 50 euros respectively.
Kat and I in Vondelpark. What you can't see in the background are hundreds of stoned people passed out in the sunshine. We are miraculously still awake because we have not just finished a joint, but an entire bottle of fizzy red wine (bought at any supermarket for 2 euros. Best stuff ever, called Lambrusco. Just saying.)
You see those rather large sunglasses we both sport? They are no longer a fashion choice, they are, after yesterday, a matter of necessity. We took a day trip along the eastern coast to a little town called Marken. It was really supposed to be this 9 hour loop, but it was so wonderful and sunny at the cafe we stopped in for coffee, that we just sat and read our books for several hours. A foiled day trip. Map found here.
It was the best day trip ever though because for the majority of the time the bike path is actually on a strip of land that cuts through the ocean. It's fantastic. Periodically the land widens and there are the cutest little coastal towns ever. It was such a lovely day that all these sail boats were out on the water and oh dear, just breathtaking.
However, I have never ridden through that many bugs before as on that strip of land in the ocean. Tons of them! They are these little green guys who are no bigger than mosquitoes and look like crickets. They jump up, catch the wind that we were riding through, and land on our clothing. Every once in a while we would have to brush off a whole nest of them off of our shirts. The sunglasses were mandatory as a bug shield and when they slammed against the large frames it sounded like a woman lightly hitting your lens with her nails, over and over. Poor Kat came back with a rather sad face from the cafe toilettes during our reading extravaganza. She said that when she briefly lifted up her shirt, a hundred bugs fell out. Unfortunately she was wearing a low cut shirt that acted as a funnel tunnel of bug love.
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