Never Mind the Tulips

Never mind the tulips - it's all about the magnolias in my front garden. Over the last few days we have finally glimpsed some spring sunshine - and with it these beautiful magnolias which have subsequently attracted a lot of (unwanted) attention from passers-by (remember I have no net curtains or frosted glass in my very large front window). I’m seriously thinking of charging people who stop to admire the glorious white blooms. Some pretend they can't see past the flowers - others do respond to our waves. I suppose I shouldn't grumble. I am just as guilty as any of admiring plants in other people's gardens - I just try and do it a little more discreetly.

We've had house guests again this weekend and I've faced the usual questions about how we feel we are settling in and what we like/dislike about living in the Netherlands.

 To be honest apart from the weather (and even that's looking up - stripped off to a T-shirt for a couple of hours on Friday afternoon), there isn’t an awful lot to dislike about living here. As a Brit it’s very easy to fit in.  I almost feel like a native, apart from the fact that I am too short, not fit enough, and too polite of course.

Would I ever have 'said s**t' in front of a customer when I worked in a shop? No. Do I move out of the way for people on a narrow pavement? Yes.  Would I move over to an empty seat on a bus or a train to make it easier for another person to sit down? Yes.

I've noticed the Dutch don’t exactly co-operate - and I don't just mean with me, I mean with each other. When our neighbour changed his mind and refused access to the builder our landlords had engaged to replace the chimney pots on his roof, our estate agent assured us his attitude was nothing personal. He explained our neighbour was just ‘being Dutch’ – as I suppose he has every right to be. Personally I just call it being awkward.

Last weekend as we sat outside a café we witnessed a lady whisk away a chair from an occupied table, only stopping to ask the lone man sat there if it was free as an afterthought. Presumably if his wife had just nipped to the loo the man would have said something sooner, but surely it’s polite to ask first?

On the other hand, when we enquired if a table was available for four in our local very ‘bijou’ pizza restaurant earlier this week, the waitress assured us she could fit us in if we didn’t mind waiting for a few minutes.  I assumed she meant someone was about to leave, but no, she promptly asked a couple sat at a table for four to move onto a tiny corner table for two – mid-mouthful. I suppose at least she asked them – rather than just whipping their plates across to the other side of the restaurant while they weren’t looking.

On arriving at another restaurant the following evening with a larger group of friends we were again asked to wait as two customers sat at the table needed to make up the eight places we’d reserved, were still finishing their coffees. Fine, we said, no problem.  Twenty minutes later the two women still lingered over their coffee and the waiter seemed in no rush to hurry them up. He needed lessons from pizza lady. If ever there was an occasion for someone to be presented with a bill before they’d had a chance to order a second coffee a la USA this was it. When he finally took the hint (because they certainly weren't going to) and asked if they minded finishing their drinks at the bar, it was actually another hour before they left.

And in case this sounds like we spend an awful lot of time eating out - we do. Haarlem is foodie heaven, so why not? And just to add to the food-fest here are some pictures from our recent visit to Alkmaar Cheese Market.