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Lost in Translation


When my ex-boyfriend and I split up, he left me with two good things: a friendship with Louise from Louise Chatters, and a (sort of) healthy interest in his football club, VVV-Venlo. I started following the matches out of pure necessity: a loss meant walking on eggshells and a depressed and/or irritated boyfriend. After the break-up, I kept following the matches out of habit. Both the sport and the team grew on me. I didn't know a thing about football, which made discussing it with my friend Stefanie all the more fun. She was pretty clueless too, but as she's from the Breda area we developed a friendly rivalry between her team, NAC Breda, and mine. This went so far that when I quit college, we promised we'd see each other again, next season at the match between NAC and VVV. It started out as a joke, but then something unexpected happened in January: we actually went to that football match.

On January 27th I took the train to Breda. I still couldn't quite believe what was going to happen that day. I hadn't been to a major league football match since early 2007. To say I'd enjoyed that match would be a lie. My classmates, with whom I'd attended the match, had either been mean to me or had ignored me the entire time. This match was going to be different though. I was going to see my team play for the first time, as I'd always followed matches on Twitter, and I couldn't be more excited to see the match with Stefanie. It was going to be an amazing night, I just knew it.

Just after 7pm Stefanie and I arrived at the stadium with her father-in-law, who'd gotten us the tickets. At that moment I finally fully realized what I'd gotten myself into. I was the only VVV supporter waiting in line with tons of NAC supporters. I'd be sitting right in the middle of them. During the wait, the bus with my team arrived and I freaked out. Supporters of other clubs might have put me into hospital right then and there, but not those of NAC Breda. Sure, they frowned or looked surprised. Some might have been annoyed. They probably just found it very weird But they let me be excited to see my team arrive and I appreciated that. 
The police must have found my excited behaviour a little suspicious though because the second I entered the stadium I was pulled out of line so they could check if I was carrying any illegal items. I laughed this off; I know it must have been weird to hear a girl with a western accent visiting a southern derby, shouting how much she likes the opponent.

The stadium was still mostly empty when we arrived at our seats. I immediately felt my vertigo kick in, as the stands were steeper than I'd ever expected. I was glad when a man sat down on the seat in front of mine: at least he'd break my fall if I went down. And falling down quickly became a real option, as Stefanie's father-in-law was kind enough to buy me a beer. Now I liked that beer, but it made me a little less steady on my feet. I already wasn't that steady anyway, because I was literally bouncing up and down with excitement. I don't regret drinking the beer though. I jokingly called it 'a way to blend in with the football crowd'.


In hindsight, I don't really know why I even tried blending in with the NAC supporters, as my continuous appreciation for VVV made me stick out like a sore thumb. I was actually quite proud of being there for my team, only more so when Stefanie's father in law introduced me to people with the words: 'This is Envy. She supports VVV and makes enough noise for an entire bus full of supporters.' I had to be that loud though, as there were barely any other VVV supporters there that night.

After about 45 minutes of waiting in the cold and watching players of both teams warm up (NAC already with shouts of support from the stands, while VVV was booed at right away), the match started. It was a goosebumps moment like I've never witnessed before. The stadium exploded with excitement and support, flags were everywhere and supporters were chanting songs and such. There was even a Carnaval song about flowers that got stuck in my head for days. On top of that NAC started the match strong. We sat behind the goal, just to the right of it, and had a perfect view of every attack NAC placed. Every single time NAC came close to the goal and VVV's goalkeeper had to make a move everyone around me would stand up, sit down when NAC failed to score, stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down. This happened so often in the first ten minutes that it felt like a workout. Lucky for me, NAC didn't manage to score in the first half. Neither did VVV. I have to admit I was shitting bricks though. NAC was strong and I loved the way they played the game, but I didn't want VVV to lose. They needed to move. I tried to keep most of my thoughts about my team to myself though. Not everyone around me seemed to be okay with me supporting the other team (an older man in front of me kept giving me death stares) and I wanted to show some respect to the people who were basically having me as a guest in their stadium that night. However, I couldn't help myself when the thing I'd been waiting for the entire night happened: my favorite VVV player got some playing time as the second half started.
'Opoku, my man!' I shouted, which resulted in another death stare from the old man in front of me. 'Now we're gonna score, just watch!'

The wind changed its direction in the second half. Rain came pouring down. Stefanie and I watched and watched, following Opoku's moves closely. By that time I was actually secretly hoping NAC would win. Like I said, that team was playing beautifully. VVV, on the other hand, was more like a brick wall when they were in the defense. And once that wall started moving forward, it was like an indestructible tank, pushing everything in its way aside. Not the kind of football I was hoping to see that night from my team.
Yellow cards were suddenly awarded left and right. As the second half passed by, players became more desperate and Stefanie and I saw our teams through rose-colored glasses: whenever NAC made some kind of foul move, Stefanie would yell that the VVV players involved were just being crybabies. When VVV pushed a NAC player to the ground I'd shrug and say: 'Barely touched the guy.'
Then, when I wasn't expecting it anymore, VVV came up strong. Approached the goal. And finally scored! While all the NAC supporters around me stood up, yelling and whistling angrily, I bent over and let out a silent victory scream. 0-1. VVV didn't give NAC another chance. We won.
'I told you I'm VVV's lucky charm!' I said to Stefanie. 'I told you we were going to win!' But deep down inside, I wished NAC had won, for the beautiful way they'd played that night.


Stefanie and I left the stadium in an adrenaline rush that night, one of us slightly happier than the other. It might have started as a joke, but it ended as an amazing experience. Right then and there we decided to go to NAC-VVV next season as well. We have no idea when that will happen (if it will happen at all, as NAC has been in the relegation zone almost all season), but I already can't wait. Here's to many more matches between our two favorite football clubs!

x Envy
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4 Fellow Ramblers

Cuba. Land of communism and cocktails. The country had been on my wishlist for so long that I literally did a happy dance (in private) when I bought a ticket to Varadero. I spent a lot of time on the plane thinking and wondering about this unique Caribbean island. I wanted to experience it for myself, the classic cars, the communism, the Cuba Libres. I was filled with giddy excitement to explore a world so different from my own. But when I got off the plane, all I felt was... confusion.

Varadero's international airport was small and not the most professional one out there, but compared to that of Laos' capital Vientiane it was luxurious. Tour operator employees picked me and my parents up from the arrivals hall. So far so good. Then I spotted my first classic car - right next to Cubans with expensive-looking smartphones. Modern day technology next to a car that was already around in the 60's. My mind did a very poor job at handling that anachronistic image and became even more confused when I saw horse carts next to the highway on our way to the hotel. It was like seeing the entire past century compressed into a single day.

I spent the rest of that first day near Hotel Tuxpan. I only left it to explore Varadero's beach, which is 12 kilometers long and known as the most beautiful beach on the planet. That night I felt like I'd missed something on my walk. Like I hadn't seen the real Cuba yet. Sadly I didn't get the chance to see the real Cuba either, as we were welcomed to the island by a tour operator employee in the bar of the villa of an arms dealer who'd become rich during the First World War.


While I was enjoying my first Cuba Libre and realized I quite like the taste of rum, my dad booked us excursions to the Yumuri Valley and Havana. The bar's walls seemed to be closing in on me, so I stood outside on the balcony for most of the time. Something wasn't okay, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I was not seeing Cuba's real face and felt disconnected from the country I was visiting. It made me feel restless. The all-inclusive hotel was nice and way cheaper than any of our other options for a Cuba trip, but it struck me as a facade. An illusion made for tourists. I was so relieved when we left the hotel that day and walked to the center of Varadero.

I saw beautiful classic car after beautiful classic car in Varadero, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was living in a Cuban theme park. I still wasn't seeing the real Cuba I was longing for, but at least I was getting closer. I was just touching the surface, almost there yet still pretty far away. We took a cab back to the hotel that night. Not just any cab, but an old American car that would be perfect for a wedding. During the ride home, with music blasting from the stereo, something clicked. I broke through the surface. I felt the vibe of the island.


In the days that followed, I saw the Cuban countryside in the Yumuri Valley, I visited the city of Matanzas and walked through the streets of Havana. I got a feel for the country and its friendly people. I tried speaking Spanish, which the locals really seemed to appreciate even though my Spanish is rusty. I felt safe walking the streets and beach by myself. Even though I felt like I'd escaped the carefully crafted illusion, I knew that I still wasn't all there is to Cuba. But I was seeing enough. I was happy. Relaxed. And in a new way, completely confused about Cuba.

The new dose of confusion was injected into my brain during my visit to Havana. It was the sixth day of our trip and even though I'd seen poverty in the countryside, I felt like most places I'd seen had their shit together. The people were friendly and every single Cuban has access to excellent health care and free education. You'd think that'd give Cuba a solid base to build its future on. You'd think communism at least did this stuff right. So why wasn't the country flourishing? Cuba reminded me a bit of my blog in that way: the groundworks were in place, but success did not follow.
My tour guide on the Havana trip explained that Cuba could be a much more prosperous country if it weren't for the US embargo. For what seemed to be the millionth time on that short trip, I was confused. Why is this embargo still in place? Only the US and Israel are in favor of this thing. Is the US really still afraid of communism? Because if you ask me, you won't see the Cubans invade other countries to spread their ideology. They're too busy gradually introducing tiny capitalist elements into their society and making tourists feel welcome. I felt sad for the island that decided to do things their way and still gets punished for it on a daily basis. Sad the Cubans still don't get a new chance, despite Obama's efforts...


I remained confused about Cuban's political situation until the day I left. Its ideology fascinates me, but I didn't see a sign of it being a threat. The only things reminding me that I actually was in fact in a communist country were murals and the dual currency system. So my confusion stayed with me, came to the airport and traveled home with me to the Netherlands. Sometimes I still find myself wondering about Cuba's real face and future. I'm afraid I won't find answers to my questions here at home. Maybe I will find them one day, but for now, I'm happy I got the chance to see the place with my own eyes. Cuba welcomed me and showed me just enough of itself to keep me intrigued. It takes a very special kind of place to have that effect on me. I hope Cuba will intrigue you as well over the next few weeks, as I'll take you on a digital trip to my new favorite Caribbean island!

x Envy
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15 Fellow Ramblers

My first ever trip abroad was to Ghent in Belgium. I was six weeks old at the time. It was my first of many, many visits to the country on our southern border. By now I've been to just about every major Belgian city and you'd think I wouldn't be all the impressed by the country anymore. You'd be wrong though. In those twilight zone days between Christmas and New Year's Eve, I went to Belgium once again. Here are the things I thought about this time visiting one of my favorite countries!

Belgian trains are much more comfortable than Dutch ones. I like this train.

Antwerpen! I can't believe it's been ten months since I climbed that tower near the river without paying for it.

So much good street art on the Belgian trains and along the tracks.

How am I almost in Leuven already?

Oh my god, this is really happening. I'm doing a blogger meet-up with Ella from Ella Was Here!

Leuven's city hall is gorgeous, even with the weird-looking Christmas lights.

A hill! I see a hill! I haven't seen hills since I left Thailand!

Why are so many food places closed? I was looking forward to some Belgian fries... You can't just go to Belgium and not eat any Belgian fries!

Everything in the Begijnhof is so pretty and Instagrammable.


These doors are so tiny. I feel tall. Finally. I'm a giant here!

That is the most messed-up whale I've ever seen.

Who leaves full packets of sauce and salad on gazebo banisters? They'll ruin our pictures, but I'm not touching that with my hands. I'll ninja kick them off.

Oops... I didn't expect those packets to explode on the ground... At least they're not in our pictures anymore!

Brownies are amazing, even though they'll make my face look like the Himalaya tomorrow morning.

Nothing's better than discussing blogging with a like-minded blogger. Wait, no, it's even better when there are brownies.

Okay, but what do I do when I go to Belgian again? Do I make another one of these posts with my thoughts or not?

Seriously, this bus ride reminds me of bus rides in Laos.

No way does Ella have the manga I used to read when I was 14! Also, I love her apartment.

Do I want to go to Liège tomorrow? Why not? Let's go!

The clock on the church tower doesn't work and it irks me.

Falling asleep on the train to Liège suddenly sounds like a good idea.


Liège Guillemins is the most futuristic train station I've ever seen.

Why is it freezing here? I can't feel my feet!

I don't know how to eat a bagel like a normal person, so I'm going to eat it like a cavewoman.

The Christmas market is still here! I love Christmas markets, even though it's not Christmas anymore.

You'd think a ginormous staircase would be easy to find, but no...

Shit. That staircase is steeper and longer than I expected.

Someone please stop me next time I get it into my head that I absolutely have to climb a hill.


The view over Liège is amazing from up here. Totally worth getting completely out of breath.

I'm frozen. Completely frozen.

Thank god for warm train rides back home.

It's funny how much I still think about and appreciate Belgium, even after all those visits. I think Dutch people take Belgium for granted, which is a real shame. I mean, they have hills and we don't (for the most part). So I'll definitely go to Belgium again. I honestly don't know if I'll do another post like this one when I do go again, so let me know what you think about that idea. I'll see you soon and don't forget to check out Ella's blog as well! Without her, this blog post never would have been here.

x Envy
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11 Fellow Ramblers

This time next week I'll be high up in the air, flying over the Atlantic Ocean towards Cuba. The fact that my flight from the Netherlands to Cuba via Mexico takes about 8 hours doesn't bother me. I'm used to long flights, always have been. No surprise if you take into account that my parents took baby me on multiple intercontinental flights. I enjoy those flights now. That time between departure and arrival is a true break from everything. Everything except my hyperactive thoughts, that is. The minute I board a plane, my thoughts go crazy. Don't believe me? Let me show you what I thought about on my last intercontinental flight from Helsinki to Bangkok!

Can we go already?
Okay, I know we're not scheduled for take-off for another 15 minutes, but can we go already? Everyone is seated and if we go now we'll be in Bangkok even sooner! Wait, did we just move? Are we moving? It seems like... No, that was just my imagination... Or is it? Seems like... we are moving! Ready for take-off. Finally!

The world is so beautiful from up here
This is one of my favorite things about flying: seeing the world from above. It's so beautiful. I always hope I get to see my hometown from up here. Everything looks so calm and peaceful, as if there's not a single problem in the world. It makes me calm down a little. I could look out of this tiny little window for ages.

If I start watching now I could watch at least three Marvel movies
As much as I love the airplane view, I still like movies a little bit better. Especially when there's nothing but grassland to see. So if I start watching now, with 8.5 hours of this flight left, I could watch at least three movies of two hours each. One more if I don't take breaks and don't fall asleep. I want to watch Deadpool first, then Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. Maybe I'll watch a few episodes of American Horror Story as well. That'll keep me entertained till we're somewhere above Myanmar. Now less thinking, more binge watching!

Did we just fly over Delhi?
We flew over Delhi and I missed it! I've been wanting to see that city since forever, even just seeing it from above would have made me so happy. And now I missed it because I fell asleep after Guardians of the Galaxy... Stupid sleep, what do I even need you for?

I hate airplane toilets so much
I don't really want to go, but I'll have to. That sound when the toilet flushes... It's like the whole plane is going to get torn into a billion pieces. Okay, calm down Envy. Here's the plan: do what you have to do, wash your hands, open the door, step outside, reach into the bathroom, hit that flush button and run as fast as you can, away from that awful sound. Ready? Flush! RUUUUUUUN!


Why can't the guy in the seat in front of me sit still for more than five seconds?
Seriously dude. Is there something wrong with you? I know these seats aren't the most comfortable seats in the world. I know we've been here for hours already. But please, don't do a full-on body slam every time you change positions. Please. You shake that thing so hard that my phone just fell off my table!

I just want to slee-hee-heep!
Dude. Stop moving. Every time you move, a shockwave travels through all the seats around you. You've woken me up five times now. Five times! Just sit still for a second or two and let me fall asleep. Please. I don't want to be a zombie on my first day in Thailand. Please... I'm begging you... I'm desperate...

I'm going to listen to the weirdest music this flight has to offer
I don't know why, but I'm awful at binge watching. And since sleeping isn't an option thanks to a certain someone, I might as well check some of the music in the library. I'm curious to see what the international section has to offer. What're the weirdest things I can find? Let's see... What's this obscure Asian band? Okay no. This is too weird. Too weird!

I can't wait to take these clothes off
I always feel so disgusting towards the end of an intercontinental flight. It feels like I've been wearing these clothes all my life. I don't remember what it's like to walk around without these old shoes. Hell, I don't even remember what walking around in a non-confined space feels like! I just want to take these clothes off, jump in a shower and put some fresh, clean clothes on. That's all I ask.

I can't wait to see what Thailand looks like!
Oh my god! We're here! I can't believe we're finally here! I can't wait to go out and explore Bangkok. I wonder what the city will look like. There are a lot of trees here near the airport, which is always a good sign. I guess Bangkok itself won't have that many trees though, but maybe Chiang Mai will be really green. I've heard so much about those jungles in the north already. I can't wait to see it all! I'm so excited, I would run out of this plane right now if I could!

So you see, even a relaxing plane trip makes my hyperactive brain go crazy with excitement. This time next week I'll probably be thinking a lot of things along these lines - but more excitedly because Cuba is my dream destination. And hopefully, there will be less annoying people in the seat in front of me and loads of Marvel movies for me to watch.

x Envy
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6 Fellow Ramblers

I'm quite stubborn. This means I'm usually your worst nightmare in any kind of discussion. Sometimes it means I will not give up on what I want just because I thought it'd be fun. But most of the time it means something much simpler: when I see a climbable hill or mountain, I have to climb it. It doesn't matter if I'm half-crippled like I was in Scotland. I see a hill, I climb it. Simple.
Sadly I don't get to climb that many hills, living in a country as flat as the Netherlands. That's why I mentally did a happy dance when I was in Belgium and Ella from Ella Was Here came across Montagne de Bueren when researching Liège. This city has one steep hill with a citadel on top, which you can reach by climbing an enormous staircase with a funny name. When I went to sleep that night, all I could think about was the trip to Liège that Ella and I had planned for the next day. I was easily going to conquer Montagne de Bueren!

The sun was shining on a freezing Liège as we arrived late in the morning of the 28th of December. Before even thinking about climbing hills, or doing anything at all for that matter, Ella and I had to defrost and find the courage to continue our adventure in almost sub-zero temperatures. We had bagels at Get Your Mug, a bagel place where we learned that Ella is good at eating bagels while I attack them like a starving barbarian.
When we went out into the cold again we first had a look at the Christmas market, then pulled up Google Maps to get to Montagne de Bueren. It's basically a sidestreet of the Rue Hors-Château, exactly in the opposite direction we took even after consulting the almighty Google. Let's just say that reading maps isn't our forte...
We did manage my favorite ginormous staircase, only for me to realize I'd taken a liking to this thing way too soon.


Montagne de Bueren was way steeper than it'd looked in the pictures. Ella and I just stood at the bottom of the stairs for a while. I could only stare and wonder what I'd gotten myself into.
'Do you want to climb it?' Ella asked me. 'You can go if you want.'
I did not want to go up that monster of a staircase. At all. I was already getting vertigo just looking up at it.
'Yeah, I want to go up there,' my mouth said despite everything my eyes and brain were warning me for.
'I'll wait down here and take some pictures,' Ella said. She was being sensible. Me? Not so much. Because when I see a hill, I climb it. Simple. So while I still had the opportunity to turn around and say 'Nah, I'm good', I put one foot in front of the other and started climbing Montagne de Bueren.

The first few steps were no big deal - until I realized the whole staircase got steeper after the first ten meters or so. That's when I started to hate myself a little bit. Just a little. Giving up was no option though. I had to conquer Montagne de Bueren, all 374 steps of it, even if it was the last thing I'd do. I focused on my breathing and didn't look more than five steps ahead of me; I didn't want to get discouraged by constantly being confronted with my snail's pace. My approach worked until some kids came running past me, overtaking me like I wasn't moving at all. Not the best thing to happen to my self-esteem that day.
I walked on. Slow and steady wins the race. Slow and steady also becomes slow and painful real quick. My calves were burning, but I refused to give up. Then I made the mistake of looking up, thinking I had to be almost there. At least halfway, I told myself. I was so going to set a record time. I could practically feel the top of Montagne de Bueren under my feet already. So I looked up - and I saw I was only a quarter of the way. At the very best...
I sighed and swallowed a curse. I wanted to scream with frustration, but figured it'd be better to use that energy for walking. I trudged on, feet heavy, eyes focused on the top of the stairs this time. I wanted to take pictures from every possible angle, but couldn't bring myself to stop just for some pictures. I knew that I'd never make it if I'd stop, even if it was for half a second and three pictures.
My breathing became heavy. I was cranky as could be by then. A never-ending stream of swear words now found its way to my lips. I muttered curses in three different languages under my breath every step of the way, thinking Led Zeppelin probably didn't have Montagne de Bueren in the back of their mind when writing a song about a stairway to heaven. This stairway wasn't taking me to heaven - it felt like it was taking me straight to hell. I could see why the Huffington Post named it as their number 1 extreme staircase in the world.


Three-quarters of the way up my eye fell on the words spray painted on the base of the staircase's railing. They seemed nothing more than random French words like 'ou est', meaning 'where is'. I tried to make sense of these random words, not because I really wanted to decipher the message, but because dragging myself from word to word was the only thing that kept me going at that moment. That was until I saw 'j'aime ça' in bright orange. That's when I burst with anger and exhaustion. J'aime ça? J'aime ça?! I love that?! I had no idea who'd written those words on that freaking staircase, but I was not loving it. Not at all. Whoever wrote it probably didn't even get up there in one go. Stupid person.
I climbed on angrily, trying to suppress the urge to find this annoying anonymous spray painter and bash their head in with one of the staircase's cobblestones. I looked behind me, down at Ella. She was still taking pictures. She'd had the right idea, I was now more than aware of that. She wasn't dying on some dumb hill in Wallonia. Why had I ever thought that this was a good idea? This was worse than climbing Arthur's Seat with a busted knee.
My internal monologue was now just a bunch of random swear words. Then, just as I was completely convinced I'd die right then and there on those steps, they became less steep. And then, suddenly, there were no more steps. None. I'd made it!


I looked around in surprise. There was a wooden bench I refused to sit on. I was exhausted and weak, but not that exhausted and weak. There were still building rising high on both sides of me. Nothing special to see up here, I thought. Still, I felt euphoric. I'd freaking made it! I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the way down. I turned around - and stopped dead in my tracks.


I finally saw the vies. The promised view, which I didn't expect to see because of all the building on the Montagne de Bueren. From up there I could see almost all of Liège though. The sun broke through the clouds and made the waters of the river Meuse sparkle and shine like a diamond. It was amazing.
I immediately forgot about my cursing, my burning muscles and the serious hate I'd felt for this stairway. The view made up for most of it. I proudly left one of my Envy butterfly stickers on a lamp post at the top.


I stood there for a while, just taking in the view. It was extremely cold and I could not hold my camera steady while taking pictures of Liège. Yet in that moment, with my hands and feet freezing and my legs hurting, I was happy. That's what climbing new hills does to you. No matter how much your muscles ache, how much your body protests and how aggravating signs along the way can be, it's always worth it once you reach the top - especially if you reach it in one go. So please do me a favor and climb some hills for me.

x Envy
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Disclaimer: Pictures 1, 3, 4, 5 and 6 by Envy Fisher. Picture 2 by Ella from Ella Was Here
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About me


Envy. Dutch blogger. Est. 1996. No relation to the famous biblical sin. Worst bio writer on this side of the blogospere. Lives on cookies, apple juice and art. Friendly unless confronted with pineapple on pizza. Writes new nonsense every Thursday.

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