A Farewell Party

Had a farewell party at Bram and my house, 329a Obrechtstraat. It was a lot of fun. Everyone seemed to be in a good party mood and by the state of the place the following morning, people had fun. Everyone came to say goodbye, even the police. I made a Pavlova. It wasn't very impressive, but it was the best I could do without electric beaters, and let's face it, it tastes the same- there's not too many ways to ruin egg white and sugar mixed ina bowl. Anyway, here are a few select shots from the night, just to keep you interested. I know you only look at the photos anyway. I mean I could write anything right know, like, you're a real tool. You're not even reading. It's like shooting fish in a barrel. (For those easily offended, this is a quote from a movie, wayne's world, and does not in any way represent the opinion of James Pender).

My Swedish mate Daniel (pronounced Dawn-yell).
Bente (Norway) and Jerome (French - Marsaille. I play guitar with him Monday nights)
Acadia from Boston. May we both find a job we like one day.
Megan from Melbourne.
Bram de Man, my Belgian flatmate. Yes, he is taller than me. Bastard.
It's become somewhat of a tradition for Bram and I to re-enact the lift from Dirty Dancing every time Nhu (Vietnam/America) arrives at a party. What can I say. She's so tiny, she's just asking to be lifted above your head.
Megan (america) and Tones (Australia- oi oi oi)
Daniel, Namita and Chelsea (Swede, Yank, Yank).
David, Marie, Namita and Claire (Yank Frenchie, Yanke Frenchie).

Anzac Day in The Hague

The War Cemetary in the Hague. You can see a little Aussie flag in front of the Australian graves. A nice touch I thought.
War Grave of A Sergeant, member of the Royal Australian Air Force, shot down over Holland in 1941.
The Dutch Guard surround the cenetaph. The Australian and New Zealand Ambassadors, as well as officials from many other countries, including Canada, US, Britain, Belgium and France laid wreaths to mark the occasion. I though the most touching wreath was from the Australian Woman's Association. Two old Australian ladies stepped forward to lay the wreaths. I don't know how or why they ended up in the Hague, but it was nice to see them.


It wasn't exactly a dawn service, but it was pretty close to it. 7am saw a group of puffy eyed Australian and New Zealanders pile onto a bus at the Central station in the Hague. As the bus rolled out on the 45 minute journey to the Hague's War Cemetary, those on board turned to each other to exchange pleasantries. I always thought Australia lacked an identity, a real "culture" so to speak, but the more I travel the more I notice the difference when I'm just talking to Australians/New Zealanders with no other nationalities present. There's a easiness to it. A common understanding and an understated optimism. "G'day, I'm Paul. I'm from Perth and I work for Shell. Bloody hell it's early isn't it."

We arrived at the Cemetary. There were lots of forein notables there. Lots of ambassadors, army officials etc. We sang the national anthems of Australia, New Zealand and Holland as well as a traditional mouri song. Then they read the ode and played the last post (at triple speed - not sure it translates into Dutch). It was a very touching service, I guess, made all the more touching by the fact that we, like those soldiers all that time ago, were a long way from home ourselves, and you start to get a feeling of how scared and lonely these guys and girls must have been, to travel half way around the world, to fight in a war they knew very little about. After the ceremony, we headed to the New Zealand Ambassador's residence for brekkie. Sure enough, Anzac biscuits were on the menu. I took about fifteen.

Touch Footy in The Hague

Been meaning to get some photos up of the old touch footy for a few weeks now. We play every wednesday night and Sunday arvos. It's a great way to wind down after a day of war criminals. These photos were taken at about 8:45 at night so as you can see, the sun goes down pretty late, which makes for a nice twilight session.

Un diner sur le trottoir.

A sign of the times in the Hague. As the weather gets better and better people will do anything to remain outdoors for as long as possible to enjoy the sunshine. Bram and I had some people over for dinner and Bram suggested we eat outside. Not having a nice little courtyard out the back, we decided to go out the front. So this was the result. Us, having a romantic dinner with Daniel (Swede) and Aurelie (French - my previous flatmate at the crazy Croatian lady's house) and Bram, eating out in the street. Lots of Dutch people passed us by and although I could tell they were slightly miffed that someone had so flagrantly broken the rules of Dutch social etiquete, I could tell they were also a little jealous that they had not done the same thing themselves.

Greatest jump shots/handstands 2007

It's become a tradition ever since a certtain photo taken in Copenhagen 2004, to do jump shots whilst travelling. (Tony Jennings, if you are out there, I'm sure you have a tear in your eye, a tear which would be carefully protected by a stunning looking mosquito net hat)

Latvia: Paris of the East

I spent this week in Lativa with Mark Rodgers (from exchange in Copenhagen), his Latvian mate Ravis and Antonia (Australian) from The Hague. Ravis showed us an amazing time. We spent three days in the capital Riga and the rest of our time in the country side.

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Latvia is a country that is booming. Shopping centres, buildings and skyscrapers are springing up everywhere, and there's a real sense that people are revelling in their ability to pursue individual wealth. In our short time we managed to see an old soviet prison, go kayaking, check out the Riga nightlife, smoke a turkish water pipe, have a Latvian Sauna as well as check out the local markets, which were housed in an old German Zepellin hanger. It's an amazing country. If you ever get the chance, go there!
Old man in front of Cafe.



The Monument of Freedom is Latvia's prize possession and has been a rallying point for all Latvians whilst under control of the Germans and Soviets. Two guards stand completely still in front of the monument at all times.
The Turkish water pipe, or "Hooka" (a word that needs to be carefully pronounced when ordering in Riga, the capital of English Bucks party weekends).
Me, Ravis, Antonia and Marky. Latvia for Life.

The Societ Prison, where political prisoners were held and Marky being dominated by the guard. Prisoners were walked around like this to prevent them getting away.


Poignant tourist photos. Barbed wire album cover and guard tower frollicks.

Marky and I escaping from jail.
Marky, Ravis and I in front of a magnificant Russian Orthodox church, which was situated in the middle of the poorest region we visited.
Lativian beaches.
Flying Pender.
These were some of the buildings that surrounded the Russian Orthodox church, deserted, delapidated and quite frankly, unsafe.

Marky and I in front of deserted soviet era buildings. They were originally constructed for the army, but with the army having left, they have been left to disintegrate.
Album cover no. 2.
Latvian Ladies catching up on gossip after doing their shopping.
We drove past this strange collection of dolls in the middle of no where. Bit of a where's wally special.

The sun sets on Latvia.

Till

Till Zimmermann, a most dangerous looking German friend, finished his internship in the Hague and headed back to Bonn to finish off his PhD. Till, you will be missed.

Latvian Teaser

I just returned from a week in Latvia, Paris and London with Markie Rodgers. I will be posting more soon but in the meantime here's a panorama of a Latvian swamp that we walked through... It was beautiful, desolate and a little scary. Mark and I kept thinking a hand was going to pop out of the water and pull us under.