The Concept Shop

I was not familiar with the concept shop before I came to the Netherlands.  Is it a shop? Is it a coffee-bar? Is it someone’s front room?

There are a growing number of these stores popping up in Haarlem. Concept shops sell everything from  designer clothes to handicrafts, ornaments, odd bits and pieces of furniture, and kitchenware.  Some of them are quite compact with a rather sparse eclectic mix of high-end and  vintage stock. They specialise in those added little extras for yourself and your home; you don’t need it, and lots of cases you don’t actually want it, but because it is in a rather exclusive setting, you think, well, it must be highly desirable, mustn’t it? 

Go on, spoil yourself. How many button necklaces and alpaca purses does a woman need?

To be fair, Mr T and I are  are not immune to the lure of the concept store. We have bought decorative items for our home. Who isn't attracted by the thought of owning something a little bit  unique?

Sometimes we don't go to buy, we go to have a laugh. 'Industrial cast-offs' are very popular right now. There is one particular store in Haarlem that has been trying to off-load a 'vintage' dentist’s chair for the whole of the past year. Of course everybody wants one of those in their front room.

I know the Dutch are very keen on recycling, and they really do hate throwing things away, but there are some items that don’t belong in anyone’s front room, they belong in a skip.


It’s out with the new and in with the old. Nolstagia is what it's all about. Mr T and I stumbled into a shop in Amsterdam this weekend and discovered a shelf of old leather footballs. Wow, said Mr T, look at that, just what we need. For what? 

Personally, I rather fancied the rustic looking hand-knitted pouffe. Since the cold of last winter I have filled our large living room with lots of additional ‘stuff’ in an attempt to give it some extra warmth. We have acquired  another sofa, a few more lamps.  I could easily find room for an extra pouffe, and as Mr T continually complains about Ed ruining the furniture, something that already looked like a cat had scratched it to pieces would be perfect.  

Just because something is old, it doesn't mean it is any good. Likewise, hand-made isn't necessarily  best-made. 

Many items on sale in these stores are expensive. Exclusivity comes at a high price.  There’s only one tatty battered school desk left. Buy it, quick!

That’s the other thing I don’t get. The Dutch won’t spend their money frivolously. Everything has to have a use, but are there really people out there who say, hey I’m not going to waste my money on a brand spanking new storage unit and a soft, comfortable sofa, I’m going to buy an old drawing office filing cabinet and a couple of old cinema seats instead…Surely not? 

Forget all this trendy up-cycling. I've a sneaking suspicion the whole concept of the concept store is to appeal to people with more money than sense. 

When the Boat Comes In

It’s that time of year again. Even though we knew what to expect it still didn’t make the spectacle of Sinterklaas’s arrival in Haarlem any less bizarre.

In the UK Santa arrives in a sleigh. In the Netherlands he arrives by boat from Spain, and with him comes his helper, Zwarte Piet (Black Pete). When they disembark Sinter rides through town on a white horse, while Zwarte Piet dishes out sweets to the waiting children.

Over 100 people were arrested in riots protesting against Zwarte Piet throughout the Netherlands in 2014. I thought Black Pete had had his day. 

Retailers appeared to have got  the message that Black Pete dolls and memorabilia doesn’t actually make attractive, appealing window displays. I've seen Christmas wrapping paper in the shops with images of pale-faced Zwarte Piets. This year, I had heard, Sinterklaas' helper would have soot on his face, not black-paint. He would be a chimney sweep.

There were definitely  less blackened-up faces amongst the eager young audience as Sinter’s ship sailed up the Sparne, but unfortunately the organisers of Sinter's arrival in Haarlem didn't appear to have got the message at all. The merry musicians and all the other grown-up hanger-ons masquerading as Zwarte Piet were out in force in their curly wigs and blackened faces.

Sinterklaas' arrival is a huge event, but it is wrong on so many counts. Strangers in fancy costumes handing out sweets – don’t you warn your kids about that one?

Even more wrong – who told the kids at the swimming party to stand in the window, in their swimmers, to watch the procession go by, waving at all the happy snappers outside.  The elderly gent dressed up as Zwarte Piet in front of us loved that one. 

Maybe my own 1970’s childhood memories have become so tarnished that I see bad in something that is just an innocence piece of traditional fun. But grown ups, dressing up, knowing they will cause offence? That's really not a good lesson to be passing down to the next generation.

Berlin

It was probably about four hours into our six-hour train journey to Berlin that I started to think, umm, maybe we should have flown…

We’d chosen the train because we thought it would be something different, no waiting around at airports, lots of leg-room in our reserved first-class seats (only 10 euro’s extra), and plenty of opportunity to enjoy the wonderful Dutch-German countryside. Of course the Dutch-German countryside isn’t wonderful, but the autumnal colours added an extra interest and the German countryside did undulate, just a little more than the Dutch.

Once in Berlin, those negative thoughts about the journey immediately dispersed. I liked it instantly. The city is still very much a work-in-progress. 25 years after re-unification and there is still a lot of building work going on. A new metro line is being constructed through the heart of the inner-city and several buildings were under-wraps, but we could get the gist of the place.

Naturally we had to see the wall – or what little is left of it. We wanted to stand under the Brandenburg Gate and visit the trashy tourist trap that is now Check Point Charlie.  We did all these things and so much more. Check Point Charlie House is a privately run museum dedicated to telling the story of the daring escapes across the border. It would have been quite possible to spend all day there reading the individual stories of hand-dug tunnels, home-made zip-wires, collapsible  ladders, customised suitcases and concealed-hidey-holes under the bonnet of cars, people desperate to escape from the East and join their families and friends in the West. Sadly, these stories resonate today with the current immigration crisis. Desperate people resort to desperate measures and the more you walk around Berlin, and take in its history, you realise just how much this beautiful city has suffered over the years.

And it’s not just the Wall that makes you stop and think. There are plenty of reminders as you walk around the city of Germany’s troubled past.  The Topographie des Terrors built on the site of the former SS headquarters chronicles the rise and fall of the Nazis, while Hitler’s Bunker is now a car-park, but still you feel compelled to see it. Just a stone’s throw away is the holocaust memorial, 2000 or so slabs of concrete, which I couldn’t help but think somebody in years to come, might just regret commissioning. I suppose they are supposed to look like graves, and I know they had to create something solemn, but maybe something just a little more hopeful and reflective?  It didn’t seem a particularly creative or fitting memorial – more like an opportunity for coachloads of tourists to play peek-a-boo. 

Two days probably wasn’t long enough to appreciate everything Berlin has to offer, but the train journey home certainly was.

Only In The Netherlands

I’m thinking of re-titling this entire blog ONLY IN THE NETHERLANDS – although I think that blog might actually already exist.

Every country has its little peccadilloes. I’ve remarked numerous times how hardy and weather-resistant the Dutch are. So, when you have an almost unbroken 130 km stretch of North sea coast, why not invent an annual autumnal mega beach cycle race? What better way to spend a  quiet Sunday than cycling on sand for four and a half hours (and that’s the quick people).

We literally stumbled across this race as we decided to explore the small Dutch seaside town of Wijk ann zee. Like most Dutch resorts Wijk had already packed itself away for the winter. The beach restaurants have been dismantled, even most of the cafes in town were closed. But as we fought our way through the fog (and it was a VERY FOGGY DAY) to the beach we realised we had arrived in the middle of some major event. At first we thought the beach was the end of the race, as crowds had gathered, but then we were told this was only about half way – the race had started at the Hook of Holland at 9.00 am in the morning, and continued all the way up to Den Helder. The only reason we had passed cyclists on the road heading towards the beach was because the cyclists have to detour inland to cross the North Sea Canal.

It was had enough walking on the heavy sand of Wijk beach let alone cycling, and it did seem to be a particularly good place to stop and watch several tumbles as the cyclists hurtled down the dunes to continue racing along the tide-mark.

It was an unusually calm day. As the friendly Dutch observer who was explaining the race to us remarked, almost with a trace of disappointment in his voice, can you imagine how much tougher it can be in the wind?

Yes I could. Rather them than me.