Festivals, firepots and fall

I know, I know. It’s still the last day of August for crying out loud. But fall is my favorite season, and just like the long cool dusks of mid-September, I like to draw this season out as much as possible. Now, as I sit in our sunny back garden to write this week’s blog entry, a crisp, salty breeze is pushing in from the North Sea, expressing agreement with me for the change of season.


Seeing this guy out in the dunes on my last bike ride didn’t help matters much. The photo is fuzzy because I was so far zoomed in and couldn’t hold the camera steady (Can we all say buck fever!) Look at that rack! Of all the things that I miss from America, the fall hunting has to top the list. I still debate whether I’d enjoy a wild boar hunt down in Belgium. For me it’s more about the ritual and the camaraderie than the kill. I’m just not sure if I’d get that from a guided hunt.



We wrapped up the last of the summer festivals this weekend with a bike ride up to Ijmuiden for their annual Havenfeest (Port Festival). Ijmuiden is one of the largest trawler ports in North Holland and is known for roughneck dockworkers and fishermen. It’s a great place to come for unpretentious, fresh fish restaurants- the kind with newspaper tablecloths and cold beer. The festival was jammed on a sunny day, but we had a good time wandering around and sampling the local port culture and food (of course).


Dutch women in traditional garb. Also note the funky crane in the background. The guy operating this was a master at his work. He put on several demonstrations where he’d pick up buckets of water, swing them around like a lifeguard with a whistle, then fling them at passing boats. It was really cool to watch this massive arm moving with such suppleness, like a huge Transformer robot.


While not our taste, this one-woman folk opera performance of “The Flying Dutchman” was interesting.


Ride the bull? Not in a Haven’s festival! See the guy controlling the surfboard in the back? He’d let the kids build a little confidence before he’d really try to throw them off. This little girl was incredible. She held on for almost four minutes…better than any of the little tough guys we saw trying to surf.

And after the bike ride home we broke out the firepot for one of those beautiful, cool, long dusks that I mentioned. Somehow the wine always tastes better in front of a firepot.

Dorpsfeest

Beth and I recently hit the dorpsfeest (village party) up in Santpoort. It was the 250th anniversary of the festival and I was a bit surprised to find out that after going up there for food, drinks, dancing, and general rabble-rousing over the last 5 years that the most famous event at the festival is a horse race through the village streets. We had never seen, nor heard of this before.

They dumped sand onto the only street that extended the 300 meters needed for the race. It was a very hot day and the streets were lined with rowdy people, placing bets, smoking cigars and drinking cold, cold beer. I had no idea what I was watching, so I didn’t place any bets and I quit smoking years ago...but the beer sure was good.

Later that evening we decided to go through the “Hotel of Traps” that was set up in the main village square. It was a great walk-through funhouse with all kinds of moving stairs, spiraling walkways, and blasting air canons. There was a conveyer belt floor that whisked you along at surprising speed and dumped you into wall of rotating punching bags that squeezed you (especially us adults) into a rubber net. Very cool! I haven’t had this much fun in a funhouse since Noah’s Arc in Kennywood…does that one even still exist?

Psychedelic groovy man.

This three story tight spiral slide was the most treacherous part of the whole funhouse. All of the adults that we saw walking through with their kids avoided this slide by opting to climb down a moving stairway. We decided to go for it. I went first, but since I was wearing short pants I laid mostly on my back and tucked my knees up so that I would go as fast as possible. Big mistake! The tube was too small for me and spirals were too tight. I did go bloody fast, but my right knee and right elbow were driven into and dragged along the the wall of the spiral and when I popped out the other side I had some of the deepest, nastiest brush burns that I’ve had since the time that I wiped-out on my skateboard at the bottom of Barkley Street when I was nine years old. My knee is still scabby today after two weeks!

At 30 kilo’s lighter and 20 centimeters shorter, Beth fared much better and came through the spirals unscathed.

The fun continues tonight with our favorite street festival in Haarlem. One last hoorah for summer!