The Next Chapter

Welcome to Dutch for Beginners Part II, which in theory I suppose should be called Dutch for Intermediates, but as my linguistic skills are shamefully still very much at a child-like level I’ll stick with the Beginners title. It does seem a very long time since I last posted on this blog, enthusiasm for all things Dutch taking a backseat while I spent a very happy summer in the UK catching up with family and friends,  but now I am back  and ready to tackle a second bite of the Dutch apple-cake with renewed vigour.

There’s nothing like a change of scenery to provide inspiration for a burst of creativity. Within days of my return to Haarlem, our rented town-house overlooking the canal was packed up. ‘Oh no I don’t need fifty boxes,’ I told the girl from the removal company as she insisted on filling my hallway with flat-packs. ‘Half that will do, I don’t have much that stuff.’ Fortunately she ignored my protests. So much for me being the know-it-all serial house-mover.  

Using all fifty boxes plus more we made the move 60 kilometers south to Den Haag, and a rental apartment in a purpose built block in the city centre. The move itself went pretty smoothly - My main concern had been for the removal men’s safety  (or more importantly my furniture’s safety) on our narrow steep Haarlem stairs but of course these death-traps present no problems to Dutchmen  who see adversity as a challenge. It was the patio table that left them perplexed – there was even mention of sawing off the legs to make it fit through the door. Mr T had to point out that as it had come in through the house in one piece, logically, it should go back out.  In the end my suggestion that the removal boy’s fingers should be sawn off instead seemed to do the trick. He re-adjusted his grip and rolled the table out of the front door.

After just a couple of days in the south I realise they do things differently here.  I thought Haarlem was up-market but The Hague does up-market on a much grander scale.  When you walk past a sign for a shop selling hand-made shoes you know you’re dealing with a different league.  We’re in the land of the diplomat, and diplomats have wives who need that high-end retail therapy. An abundance of ‘conceptual’ art shops are sure sign of affluence; as are the numerous mani-pedi-waxing salons available for those who have nothing better to do. Apparently there are over 1000 restaurants,  bars, cafes and coffee shops in The Hague, and for once, I do mean coffee shops where you sit and drink, as opposed to the other sort, which I haven’t seen one of yet (not that I have been looking I hasten to add). 

The Hague is a big city and it's early days. I will obviously miss our home in Haarlem, although not the black carpet, to which I wish a very heartfelt  good-riddance. We have to adjust to new surroundings and apartment living, but first impressions? The sunshine obviously helps, but so far - good.