Clowns in the morning hours (or A'dam - Ede - Arnhem - Ede)

I had a VERY interesting night. It finished at 06:40 AM. :)

So I go on the train, right, to Ede-W. I nod off between Driebergen and Veenendaal; whooh, that was close. "Should maybe stay awake for the next stop," I think to myself. Yeah, about that.

As it's only 5 minutes, I should've just ... got up, walk around a bit, stand by the door.

  Well, I didn't.

Instead, I wake up in Arnhem. On the last train of the night. Whoops. I get out, too sleepy to even remember to ask the conductors, when the next train is leaving or what the taxi number is or if, by chance, one of them lives in Ede.. So I go out and think a bit - with a slight drizzle, I go to stand below a nice tree. I put on some extra clothes (thank god for layers! (I had a nice shirt with me, and additional thin sweater, so good on me:)) and I see a naked man, walking down the street.

I mean, either he was naked or he had a see-through everything. I was pretty sure I could see some "bouncy-action" happening down THERE. Anyway, I can only see him for 10 seconds or so, as he goes into this alley and vanishes. This wakes me up completely and puts a huge smile on my face: life is crazy indeed! I will never say "I've seen it all," because life just keeps bringing up surprises for me:)

Anyways, I decided to check the train station again, for train schedule (why I went to a nearby park was .. well, I needed to get some of the tea we had, out), but it was closed. Euuh, OK. So I put on some music and as that didn't work for me, I put on a really nice podcast (Stuff to blow your mind) - just geeky and serious enough for me.

So I walk around, right, Arnhem - phuh, what's there to see at 2 AM? I check some store fronts, see three shops selling wedding dresses (apparently they are a huge thing in Arnhem - not the dresses, they're normal, the weddings, I mean), a games shop, etc. A guy on a motorcycle passes me twice. I mark him down as a potential threat to look out for. (Or just a local dude with nothing to do.)

So I walk down the street and a guy with two white bags in his hand looks like he's just closing up for the night. By the look of the bags, he's got Chinese or some food shop. We pass each-other, I say "hi!" and as he almost goes into his car, he turns around and asks: "hhfas fsahlkjfasldj". Mhm? I took my earphones out and ask him: "I'm sorry, what?"

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

I'm like: "Well, yes, a bit."

"Here, take this." He gives me a bag of fries! "It's not so warm anymore," he adds after a fashion.

"Wow, thanks! Thank you!" I reply and start eating it, as I continue my walk. I wave to him as he drives off and give him the (hopefully) international sign of 'dude, this is great!': OK sign. I hope he saw it, and didn't think I was giving him the thumb due to the fries indeed being warm and not hot.

As I walk further, I meet two cats, second one of which I hopefully fed 3 fries (or else, they're just there on the pavement still). I find a bench and sit, then lie down. It's 3:15 now. Jeez, "this is going to be a long night," I think to myself.

Lonely cars and trucks keep waking me up, but I manage to nod off in between. I'm nervous about the cops. Just in general, you know, nodding off in the street is frowned upon and I just want to get back home, no trouble and no questions asked.

"HEEEEE HEEEEEE HAAAAEEEEE HAAAEEEE!" two cars rolling down from the side street, just behind me. Just two retards, having fun and either trying to wake me or trying to wake people in the alley. Dicks. (I'm sorry, but they probably were.)

3:45. Ok, time to start back to the station. (I was kind of hoping the first trains would be there at 4:30, but a tiny voice kept saying: yeah, you wish. It's probably more like after 5 or so.)

So I start back, with another podcast and as I near the centre of Arnhem, I see this guy, in flippy-floppies, a shirt, two Amstel beers and a woolen sweater on his shoulder. He’s drunk, obviously. I sort of try to avoid him (not because I would be afraid, but because I too easily get into lengthy discussions with drunken people, preachers and elders), but he goes like: “Hey, you want a beer?”

  (Man, Arnhem at night is like, get-stuff-for-free heaven.)

I say that sure, the closed one. He goes: “What? Closed one! Are you Dutch!?”
After we establish, that no, but some of it might have rubbed off on me in the past year and a half, I say I’m from Slovenia.

He says his father, when separated from his mum, is now living for 10 years in Slovenia. OK, what does he do, I ask, as we are walking along the street.

He’s a circus man, the guy replies.

It turns out that the guy, Josma, is also a clown and a performer. And he goes: “Wow, the stars maan, they tell stuff, you know?”

I think: well, this is going to be interesting.

“Let’s go and make a fire!”
  I’m slightly dubious, as I don’t want to be the lead character of a front-cover matter in national newspapers, you know, just trying to find my way back home. But then he mentions “fire-pit”, which sounds more controlled, and “outside the town, in the fields”, which totally sounds more scary (than it actually was at the time).
 

As he said before that the first train leaves at 5:31, and it’s now about 4 AM, and as he looks harmless, I sort of go along. We end up walking next to the Arnhem’s park (Sonsbeek) and I ask him about the house on the hill. He says it’s now a restaurant, but that a young, 19 year-old lieutenant lived there and went to India and she hanged herself when he didn’t come back.
  Sorry, what? … After some explaining, I piece together a story of a lieutenant who apparently went missing and his young wife waiting for him, and hanging herself in her white dress (what’s with Arnhem and wedding dresses!?) from that top ledge – you see, just there?

And we go to the mill, and he explains about it and how he slept on the ridge in the roof, and we jump a fence and walk along; he tells me of animals that live in the ponds and how kids get assignments from the mill/centrum and go and find animals and plants and write down what they see. Aaw, that’s nice. Cool.
  Then we come to this larger pond, where some ducks are sitting, and some are standing in the water. I dismissed it, as they were probably standing on some ledge in the water.

Then he tells me: “There’s this path here, you can walk onto the island! You can walk on the water!! … I just have to find it!”

And I see the place where the ducks were: “I think it’s here, but …”

And before I can stop him, he’s already on it, ankle-deep.

Sigh. Ok, get ready, I say to myself, might be you’ll be rescuing the guy at some point. But hey, I still got 45 mins to kill and why notJ?

So he starts edging further into the water, now it’s slightly deeper, he’s all happy about it (who wouldn’t be, walking on water, like that, albeit slightly drunk) and he turns back to me and shouts:
“I can’t swim!”

Euh, what? “Sorry, did you say that you CAN or that you CAN NOT swim?”

The answer is even more doubtful:
“I can…(t), the DUCKS told me!”

Sigh. Ok, I’m getting mentally ready, might be some rescu-

and he’s gone. Flipped into the water. Of course.

I wait a second or two, before I start taking clothes off, but he’s back up, scrambling onto the treacherous pathway. He’s coming back towards me, all dripping and like a water-zombie. Huffing and puffing like one, as well.

It’s a comical sight, and I can’t suppress some laughter, but it’s all good natured.

On the way home now – I decide to accompany him, especially, after he mentions that he should not get hypothermia, and that he’s got minutes. (I’m thinking, well, it’s not that cold, and he should be fine, if we keep moving, but who knows, maybe he’s more experienced in this?)

And I find out about his wife (and that she won’t be too happy about this, oh, no) and daughter, and what he does and how he once put on a tall pair of stilts and went on a skateboard, downhill. I’m like, Jesus, really? “Yeah,” he says, “it was winter!”

Larks.

At the end, we part at his house and we shake hands again, and he starts telling me of his company (Verder Nog Iets) and half out of interest, half out of courtesy, and half out of already thinking I should have some proof of this night’s adventure (hey, back off about the halves, eh, it was late – now 5 AM) I want to write down his name.
“Nooo, wait, I’ll get you my card!”
“No, really, it’s fine, I’ll just write it here-“ And I realise I can’t, cause I don’t know how to spell it. And neither does he, so he – despite my insisting that nooo, you’ll wake up your wife, it’s fine – goes in to get his card.

So now I’ve got this 3 postcards (which are also business cards) of him and his girlfriend/wife at home. Want some? Write to me, I’ll send itJ.

I believe redonkulous is the word we are searching for, to describe this night in Arnhem.

PS – Got home safely, caught the first train and nearly fell asleep again. Had my bike at Ede station, and even though the first bus was 13 minutes away, I still cycled home, quite content with this night’s adventure … and the niceness of the evening before – but that’s another story.