Tourist Mode

Visitors are always a good excuse to get out and about and see the Netherlands through new eyes.

Yes, it's that time of year again, which means another trip to the Keukenhof Gardens. I like gardening and it's always good to get some ideas, but I couldn't help but feel this year's exhibits in the flower arranging section were just a little lacking!

Nevermind, the sun was shining and although it's very early in the season the gardeners had done their best to ensure colourful displays outside. It was more of a crocus-fest than a traditional tulip party, but definitely, some ideas to take home. It would never occur to me to plant rhubarb in a flower pot, but it's one to try, as is hyacinth wedding cake.

However, the most inspirational idea - the book chair. Perfect.

Making the Most of It

What is it about human nature that makes us wait until time is running out before we start using it effectively?

With the ‘last day in the Netherlands’ now pencilled into my diary, I’m in panic mode. But, I haven’t done this, I haven’t been there, I haven’t got my money’s worth out of my annual museumkaart...

The Museumkaart is a wonderful thing. For less than 60 euros a year it gives you access to nearly every museum in the Netherlands, and as individual entrance fees are between 10-15 euros, it’s a very good deal.  If you use it.

A wet weekend is the ideal incentive to seek out some culture. The Hague is currently celebrating 100 years of Mondrian and the De Stijl movement, so we took a trip to the Gemente Museum to view the more permanent works of art as opposed to the red, blue and yellow seagull floats outside the Binnenhof. Another lure of the Gemente Museum was to catch the last few days of the Hubert De Givenchy exhibition – a collection of the fashion designer’s most iconic costumes, including several worn by Audrey Hepburn, a Dutch national treasure. Quite naturally, the exhibition featured that Little Black Dress, and I too could don the Audrey hat and sunglasses for a dress-up session in the photo booth, or at least I could, if the photo booth had been working.

From the Gemente we went next door to the Foto museum, where Mr T was positively inspired by the idea of transforming mundane subject matter into pictures of interest. On our walk home he insisted on snapping pics of parked cars, the beginnings, apparently, of a possible coffee table book.

The following day we headed down to the Maritime Museum in Rotterdam, where one of the new features is the ‘off-shore experience’. More dressing up was required – hard hat, florescent jacket, and following a safety film about what to do if your helicopter crashes (if I was a child – and it is aimed at children - I’d have been completely terrified at this point) you head up a staircase to a simulated oil-rig in the North Sea – complete with wind effect where you can press lots of buttons and pretend you control pipelines. Home from home for Mr T.   

There are several old vessels to explore outside in the museum harbour, including a traditional Dutch barge which was used to transport coal, sand and peat, back in the day when Dutch people were considerably shorter than they are now  – even I had to bend my head in the living quarters, which incidentally were about the size of an average family bathroom. Even more fascinating was learning that the family who lived on this particular barge had six children - there wasn't room to swing a cat let alone a child. However, the kindly curator showed us a photograph of the children strapped together on the canal bank towing the barge - children being cheaper than the cost of buying and keeping horse. Not now they're not. 

A good weekend's worth of knowledge gained. Now I just have to get my money's worth out of the spa membership. It'll be tough. 

(Not a picture of ex-pat wives on a day out but more outfits from the De Givenchy range)

One Week In...

It’s the end of my first week back in the Hague; and the sun has come out. That’s not the only change since I left in December. Roads that had been closed since we first arrived way back in September are now open; barriers down, traffic cones removed. Whole new areas have opened up. There are new art installations, including several in celebration of the artist Piet Mondrian and the de Stijl art movement.

I’m not quite sure who came up with the idea of the floating blocks in the Hofvijver lake but the seagulls certainly seem to be appreciating them.

It’s almost like starting over somewhere new. I'm seeing the city with fresh eyes. The crocuses are out, creating swathes of purple beside the pavements.  At Scheveningen, quickly becoming my favourite place, the pop-up beach restaurants have already popped-up. On Friday night as we sat on the pier, sipping a pre-dinner beer and a wine, watching the sun set from a cloudless sky into an uncharacteristically calm sea, we could almost imagine ourselves, if we weren’t behind glass and still wearing our coats, back in the Caribbean.

We decided we would make the most of the weekend’s good weather forecast and head out for a hike along the beach. We thought we’d just wander and see how far we got – which wasn’t actually that far. It’s hard-going walking on sand. We did deviate inland onto the manmade paths across the sand-dunes for a change of scenery, but the scenery, if I’m honest, was less than spectacular.

The Dutch landscape isn’t the only thing that’s a bit subdued We spent Sunday morning watching the NN CPC Loop Den Haag, a massive running event involving 35,000 participants which saw most of the newly opened roads closed off again. Having been a spectator at the London marathon a couple of years ago it was quite noticeable how low-key this event seemed to be in comparison. There were several races on the agenda, including a 5 K, 10K, kids races and a half marathon. We seemed to be the odd ones out as we clapped and cheered as the participants ran, jogged and staggered past. We were at the 1K mark – but the crowds were pretty thin, and surprisingly (for the Dutch) unvocal, which seemed a bit of a shame.

However, with the sun out it was a day for doing stuff – not standing around. The bikes came out of hibernation and we decided to go for a cycle. My gears had seized up and Mr T’s front-brake had stuck, but after quick massage and a splash of oil off we set.

We headed for the Haagse Bos, an area of woodland we hadn’t explored before. The Dutch Royal family have a house in the Bos, and although we found the palace, sadly, there was no sign of Willem and Maxima pottering in the grounds. The house appeared to be undergoing a complete renovation but presumably if the Dutch Royals are anything like the British, they'll have several other residences to decamp to,  or  maybe they were hiding out in a mobile home around the back.

Disappointed, we carried on and came to a large garden centre. Now I love a good garden centre.  On a Sunday in the UK, a garden centre would be heaving with customers.  But this is the Netherlands. The garden centre was closed. My inner American screams why isn't everything open 24/7? While my it's so refreshing the Netherlands is so uncommercial side appreciates why Maxima wasn’t out there with her gardening gloves on. She was probably out on a family cycle ride instead.

Day One

Back in the Netherlands after an extended stay in the UK and my first day has been a day of queuing. This is not a result of food shortages that have mysteriously occurred in my absence,  but simply an issue of staff deployment. Generally I do my best to avoid Albert Heijn supermarkets first thing on a Monday morning. Our nearest shop is very small, and the aisles are full of staff restocking after the weekend.  However, with an afternoon mission already planned I had no choice but tackle the chicanes and other major hazards created by warehouse crates and boxes blocking every aisle.  No queues at the check-out, mainly because there were more staff in the shop than customers.

However, the real fun began in the afternoon,  when I had to return to a second Albert Heijn (I refuse to visit the same one twice in the one day) to pick up the goods I had (a) forgotten in the morning and (b) had not been re-stocked (that’s the trouble with going too early!).  But first, I went to Action. For those of you don’t know Action think Home Bargains. It’s one of those shops that sells everything from toothpaste to bicycle pumps, the sort of place you go into expecting to buy one item, and come up with arms full of stuff. It is also one of those shops that has six check-outs, four of which are for display purposes only. Action is the home of the queue. And typically, after a lengthy wait, just as I finally reached the point where I could load my several-more-than-planned purchases onto the conveyer belt, the inevitable happened, another check-out opened, and of course, those at the back who had waited the least, scrambled to the empty till.

 

Undeterred, I stuck it out. I had invested a great deal of time in my queue, and then, exactly the same thing happened next door in the second Albert Heijn supermarket of the day, where just as I reached that point...the till roll needed to be changed.  Outwardly calm, inwardly seething.

I appreciate that these situations are not unique to the Netherlands. It could happen anywhere. But they say Europeans don't know how to queue. Trust me, they do!

During my two months back in the Uk I had become re-acclimatized with those cheeky check-out conversations with shop assistants, which simply don’t happen here, mainly because ashamedly, I don’t have any Dutch conversational skills apart from a ja, ja, nee  and a dank Ju well in answer to the standard do I have a bonus card, do I want a receipt, am I collecting saving stamps and have a good day (I am completely thrown if I’m asked anything else). Back in the UK recent exchanges with shop assistants have included a lengthy conversation on the merits of bathroom refurbishment (stemming from the admiration of my new bathmat) and another five minute talk on the commercial viability of wine for cats. Anyone who has ever given their cat catnip will know that cats do not need wine.  And dogs don’t need beer either (yes we got onto that too).

Ed looking unimpressed with another spontaneous purchase from Action!

Carry On Cruising

Following the success of last year’s Caribbean cruise to escape the depths of a Dutch winter, Mr T insisted that a dose of new year sunshine should become an annual tradition. I was more than happy to oblige. This year, we opted for a P&O ship, Britannia, and set out for a week’s cruise around the islands of St Lucia, Dominica, Antigua, St Maarten and Barbados.

Our cruise was only seven nights, and after a friend had warned that she knew of someone who gained two stone on a two week cruise, a week sounded quite long enough. After all, we only had a limited luggage allowance and I needed to be able to travel home in the clothes I wore out.

So is cruising all about over-indulging? Is it one long food and drink fest? Well it’s certainly very easy to be lazy.  You don’t have to get off the ship if you don’t want to, on Britannia there are at least three sundecks, four pools and ample space to lounge around.

Haunted by the thought that I wouldn’t be able to fit back into my airplane jeans, I insisted that the lifts were out of bounds for us. We were going to walk up and down the stairs (there are 17 decks), we were going to complete the seven laps of the running track that constituted a mile every morning before breakfast (we did it twice) and we were not going to grab as much food as we possibly could from all inclusive buffet. With breakfast available from 6.00 am to 11.30 am, lunch starting at 12 and continuing until 2.30 pm, afternoon tea from 3 to 5, and dinner from 6.00, there really is only a very small window of time when food is not available – and even then you can always grab a slice of pizza or a burger from the poolside grill. Even people who eat in their sleep are catered for as late night snacks from 10.00 pm until 2.00 am and then there’s round the clock room service.

Formal dining on board was pretty special. We opted out of the main dining room a couple of times, once for a pre-booked evening in the Limelight Club where the food was definitely up a notch and the entertainment was provided by soul-singer Jaki Graham, and the second for an impromptu meal in the Glasshouse restaurant just to make a change. We’d originally opted for freedom dining which meant you can eat when you like, and with whom you like, either choosing a table for two, or ‘sharing’ which is a bit like speed dating, meeting a new couple every night. Sometimes you gel, sometimes you don’t.  Fortunately it’s a big boat, and we rarely met the same people twice!

If you like everything done for you, cruising is the perfect escape. Chocolates on your pillow, entertainment morning, noon and night; a theatre, a pub, a nightclub, a casino. What more could you want? Peace and quiet? Well you can even have that if you want to escape to the Serenity Pool, or even pay extra to sunbathe away from the rabble in the exclusive  Retreat.

Mr T and I like to explore. In Dominica we took an organised trip to the Rain Forest, in Antigua we took a local taxi to the beach. St Maarten was a bit of an anomaly – the island is split into French and Dutch territory. We landed on the Dutch side and took a taxi to the French capital Marigot, our Dutch driver (fifteen years in Rotterdam) filling us in on the history and customs of the island as we battled our way through the traffic. (Traffic jams in the Caribbean? Yeh man, there were five cruise ships in port that day.)   These islands rely on tourism and retail opportunities abound. Traders are very keen for your business; you end up saying ‘no thank-you’ an awful lot, and in fact, we had two rival beach sunbed vendors almost in fisticuffs as they competed for our custom in St Maarten. But most of the time, we found the locals pretty laid back.

Back on board, we took part in a ‘James Martin’ cookery class in Britannia’s million pound demonstration kitchen. Unfortunately James wasn’t on hand himself but his substitute, a jolly Irish Dara O’Briain look-a-like chef taught us how to make the perfect pasta, and yes of course we promised that we would retrieve our pasta-making machine from its permanent resting place in the back of the cupboard and make our own pasta as soon as we got home.

The highlight of our holiday? Snorkling with turtles in Barbados most definitely. Rum punch at 9.00 am in the morning? Why not?

And yes, I could still fit into my jeans for the flight home. (Just!)

Happy Smiley People

Despite intending to postpone any further posts until I return to the Netherlands, I watched an item on the news this week and decided to add my five pennyworth of thoughts. According to a recent survey, Dutch children are the happiest in the world. Having also watched a programme a month or so ago about obesity, and how it just isn't happening in the Netherlands, I thought I'd also give my opinion on that too.

All this positive publicity might start you thinking that the Netherlands is actually a very sensible place to live, especially if you want content, slim kids. And to be honest, it probably is.

So what is the magic formula? According to the BBC news report, the happiness is all to do with family time, and according to Channel 4, the lack of obesity has a lot to do with cheese. When we first arrived in the Netherlands it was quite noticeable the amount of dads I saw out and about during the day with their kids. Talking to other ex-pats and making friends with Dutch-long-lifers, I soon learned that this was because a lot of parents only work four days a week enabling child-care to be shared by both parents. In fact a lot of Dutch people, of all ages, only work four days a week. My hairdresser, a young girl in her 20's, only worked four days a week. My cat-sitter, another young girl in her 20's, works in HR four days a week and cat-sits the rest of the time. Mr T (who has spent far too long working for a big American corporation) complains, quite regularly, that half his workforce only work four days a week, and they go home on time, and refuse to work weekends! They even take all their holiday allowance and take days off sick when they are sick. Heaven forbid. These people know to enjoy themselves. Or have they just got that work-life balance sorted out? That's the key.

Family time is important time. For example, Christmas isn't about buying each other lots of presents; its about being together. The first year we lived in the Netherlands I struggled to even find 'grown up' wrapping paper. Presents (and it is probably only one) are for children.

The Dutch don't wrap their kids up in cotton wool. You don't see kids being dropped off and picked up outside the school-gates in a 4x4. Right from the word go the school run is completed on two wheels, and if the little-ones are not trusted to make their own way to school, mum or dad will cycle alongside until they are. Dutch kids go 'out' to play - whatever the weather. There's no point stopping activities just because its raining. It rains an awful lot in the Netherlands. Dutch kids grow up balancing on the back of bikes, they grow up playing on the banks of canals, and they grow up living in houses with treacherously steep narrow stairs. 

'How do you teach your kids to go up and down those stairs?' I can remember asking a Dutch mum quite early on.

'We put a mattress at the bottom,' she replied. 'And if they fall, they tend to fall only once.'

They either die, or learn to be more careful. Makes perfects sense. There are obvious risks, and there must be obvious accidents. But more importantly, they have freedom.

Dutch teenagers do have I-pads and I-phones and go to McDonalds, but they will also cycle to nightclubs, or the pub, or their after school-activity. And if you do have to catch a bus or train to work, you cycle to the station. You might even keep a second bike at your destination to complete the rest of your journey. And imagine doing the weekly grocery shop on your bike. You soon cut down on the amount of food you buy, and waste, when you have to carry it home in your paniers.

So the Dutch can eat lots of bread, and cheese and drink lots of milk, because not only do they burn it off with all this excessive activity, but apparently, calcium aids the dietary process as it interferes with the absorption of fat.

Personally, from my own forays into Dutch supermarkets I'd say there is far less choice and far less processed food than supermarkets in the UK, but that's obviously not such a bad thing.  Maybe we have too much choice; everything is very convenient, and we've become very lazy.

No country is perfect, and the Netherlands is not without issues and problems of its own. But they have got a lot of things right.  And they do have a great sense of humour (just check out the Dutch tribute to Donald Trump on You-tube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELD2AwFN9Nc&feature=youtu.be ).

Back in the UK

I'm currently taking a break from the Netherlands. It's nothing personal, it's just the thought of two solid months of dark mornings, grey skies, wind, rain, and a limited social life, so I've come back to the UK.

I'll post again if (and when) I go back. Like a little tulip, maybe I'll see you in the spring.