Antwerpen

Graffiti Art Park - Some of our European friends would be rolling their eyes that after spending two days in Antwerpen these are the photo's that I decided to post. In truth, Antwerpen is a beautiful city with a great blend of old architecture, cobblestoned streets, and ultra modern office buildings. We had a wonderful time exploring. There were so many restaurants to choose from that we decided to "graze around" and just ate appetizers at 5 different places one evening for dinner.

Of course, Beth and I are always trying our best to get off the beaten path and see how the locals really live. We discovered this little park just south of the historic center....not on any tourist map. It's set in a mix of older buildings and looks like it is actually formed over a demolished building site. It did have grass, but there were many brick foundations scattered about. The city must encourage graffiti here, because every square inch was painted. We spent nearly an hour wandering around the murals and trying to figure out each artists message. Some of this work was incredible! I took a particular interest in the bottom painting. Something about the futility of the snowmen trying to cross the water to be with the woman, and her apparent lack of fear or encouragement hit home for me....Beth - can you explain that one for our readers ? ;-)

Bicky Burger - Antwerpen

I don't know why I'm drawn to these bizzare little window advertisements in Belgium. I get the biggest kick out of trying to figure out why anyone would be more apt to eat here just because a chubby old naked lady looking lasciviously at an overtly phalic bundle of fries is painted on the window. Well, ok. We went in for some fries....so I guess it worked - but that still doesn't explain the psychology of it all.

What a Life!

Beth was traveling to Seattle for work this weekend, so I thought that I'd head into Amsterdam for some fun on my own. Did I hit a few coffeeshops and then saunter through the red-light district? I have no recollection of that and to the best of my knowledge no evidence to the contrary exists. However, I do remember exploring some of the islands and ports scattered around the city and I have the pictures to prove it. These cargo barges, which were docked in the inner harbor, fascinated me. They double as a house boat, complete with car and motor boat. You can see the crane that will lift either mode of smaller transportation off the main boat so that the owners can get out and explore their port-of-call. This particular barge looked like it had some very cozy living quarters decked out with plants and cats in the curtained windows. And keep in mind, those are full size, trans-continental shipping containers that he's carrying....it's quite a load. I'd guess it's a lucrative business by the number and quality of these rigs that I saw. And I bet it's one hell of an interesting life hauling stuff around the world in a self contained house, dropping into exotic ports. The bottom picture shows the beautiful inner harbor of Amsterdam, beckoning the owners of the barge to come on in and stay a while!

Herman Renz Circus

A classic traveling circus, this little troupe arrives each year in Haarlem for the holidays. Beth and I had never been to a circus before and we were intrigued by the old-fashion style show, the small, intimate venue, and the local holiday tradition. However, our experiences with the Idaho Stampede Rodeo back in Boise had us a bit nervous about going to see performing animals...not exactly our taste in entertainment. But after talking with some of the locals and doing a little background checking on the internet, we decided to give it a go. So, we borrowed a friend's 11 year old daughter and went to the evening show last Monday.

Once the lights went down and the ringmaster entered the big-top, we were in for a brilliant, fast-paced show that kept a smile on our face for most of the 2 1/2 hours. The performers were outstanding and exhibited some great (and bizarre) talents. Their knack for showmanship belied their well rehearsed routines. A pair of clowns (of course 1 was a midget) kept the action moving as the crew cleaned/setup between each act. Some of the strong-men and gymnast sets were really well done. And only in Holland can one see a Russian babe in a studded leather g-string gyrating on the flying trapeze to entertain the "kiddies".

The dogs, horses, goats, and chickens (yes, chickens) loved performing. They went into the ring with gusto and really appeared to be enjoying themselves. On the other hand, the lions and elephants seemed a little bored with the whole ordeal. The only animals that outright did not like being there were the house cats. They hissed at the trainer before they would do a trick. Once the trick was over, they jumped back into the carnival cart and seemed to be much more content watching the action from the sidelines.

An excellent light and water shows were the only high-tech additions, but when these were synchronized with the live orchestra it all came together with a lot of old world charm.

We'll adopt this as one of our own new Christmas traditions

Holland Holidays

Our first holiday season in Holland was starting to feel a bit grim. Since moving here in August, we always knew that the fall would be the toughest time of year for us. Back home in the Appalachian mountains of the Eastern United States the crisp fall air, brilliant changing leaf colors and smell of spiced rum in the apple press all portend the start of the holiday season. This is the traditional time of year when Americans gather to celebrate with family and friends.

In Holland, fall is a rather dismal time of year as far as the weather goes. Starting in October the jet stream shifts and brings endless waves of clouds and dampness to Northern Europe. There is nothing “crisp” about the daily fog and drizzle and a steady northerly wind cuts sharply through however many layers of clothes we manage to squeeze into. Worst of all, there are no traditional gatherings to look forward to. No Halloween. No Thanksgiving. No deer hunting.

Little did we know the surprises that our adoptive country had up her sleeves for us. It turns out that the Dutch love their holidays and they seem to be able to pull one out of thin air just when you need it the most.

Here in North Holland the holiday season starts with Saint Martin’s day. We began catching wind of this little gem one day in Mid-October in the dog park across the street. There is a really comical older lady with two pugs (Boris and Snitzel) who doesn’t speak much English. Oddly enough, everyone else at the park also complains about her Dutch….they say her thick Amsterdam accent makes it hard to understand her. Remember, Amsterdam is only 15 kilometers away from Haarlem so we’re not talking about remote linguistic relationships or anything. 15 stinking kilometers. I guess it’s like someone from a “blue state” trying to understand someone from a “red state”…never mind, bad example.

Anyhow, this lady took a quick liking to Beth and I. She is a real hoot to talk with even though we can barely understand a word she says. The only reason that we understand anything at all is because she uses her whole body to talk. And she is a “poker”. Every point that she makes comes with a “Ja”. And every “Ja” comes with a poke…and believe me, she always has a lot of points to make. Well one day, she started singing songs to us, in a very childish character voice, to try to get us to understand that Saint Martin’s day was approaching and that we should “prepare” for the festivities.

So I turned to the Internet for a coherent explanation, because she had Beth and I somewhat worried about going into this holiday “unprepared”. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a lot of background information on Saint Martin. Apparently he was a pretty cool dude who lived back in the 10 century. One dark night he found himself almost starving to death with only a loaf of bread and a lantern to his name. Along came a beggar in worse shape than he and good old Martin gave the beggar half his loaf of bread and led him back to a church with his lantern. I think the “church” part is what got him the saint title.

Anyhow, 500 years later this event translated into a holiday in The Netherlands.

The tradition goes something like this: Little kids make plastic and paper lanterns at their schools. On Saint Martin’s evening (November 11) they walk around the neighborhood with candles in their lanterns playing the very appropriate role of “beggars”. As a homeowner, if you want to participate in the evening’s festivities, then you put out your own lantern on the front stoop. Having a lantern at a house gives the kids permission to ring your doorbell. You then open the door and stand there while they sing you some really funky singsong tunes. Naturally, all we could understand was the occasional “Sinta Maartin”, but when they finish singing, everyone claps and you give them a loaf of bread. Of course the modern version of “loaf of bread” is candy….lots of candy. We went through 4 bags.

This was actually a pretty cool holiday. The neighborhood was crawling with kids and families. There were more people out that night than I remember even in the best years back in Greensburg as a beggar kid myself. Laughter and singing filled the streets; and Beth, Sage and I had a great time listening to the same wacky songs over and over and over again late into the evening. The older kids (12) got the additional pleasure of burning their lanterns as they went running through the streets all hopped up on sugar, screaming and throwing molten plastic at each other. Now THAT is good fun.

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The next big holiday of the season is Sinter Claus. It starts almost immediately after Saint Martin’s day. Sometime around November 15th Sinter Claus comes to Holland from Spain (go figure). This being a seafaring nation, naturally he arrives by boat. It’s somewhat reminiscent of George Washington crossing the Delaware when he lands standing on the bow of a long rowboat. The festival starts with a big party at his landing at which time he switches modes of transportation to a horse and starts his journeys throughout The Netherlands. They don’t wind this one down until December 5th.

Sinter Claus himself is a saintly looking old guy, all decked out like the pope in a cheap Wal-Mart Santa Clause outfit. Or maybe it’s more like Santa Clause in a cheap Wal-Mart pope outfit. Either way he carries a long staff and brings with him “Zwarte Piet” - Black Pete. Black Pete is sometimes referred to as a Moorish Elf and sometimes, by those few less politically correct Hollanders, as SinterClaus’s slave.

Sinter Claus does all the “judging” stuff that comes standard with a religiously based holiday. You know, the typical naughty and nice routine. The kids put out their shoes each night and if they were good they find a small present or candy in it in the morning. However, if they were bad, they have much more to worry about than a simple lump of coal in their shoe. No, no, no. Their fate is much darker over here. A little kid that is deemed less than cherubic awakens to Zwarte Piet stuffing them into a burlap sack! He loads the nasty little buggers up and hauls them off to Spain! Fate unknown.

You have to reflect on the historical context of Europe to really understand this tradition. Spain brutally occupied large parts of Holland for several hundred years. Being dragged off by Zwarte Piet was a realistic punishment 500 years ago…and one that was not a pleasant thought for the little kids. Of course, over the past 499 years this has all been watered down and now Zwarte Piet is a smiling, overdone black faced minstrel-show character. Seriously. You should see this guy. As an American it’s actually kind of “cliché” to even talk about him. Just do a google search on “Zwarte Piet” and you’ll see what I mean. It’s an endless source of fascination for us foreigners, but it’s a perfectly natural caricature for them here. Zwarte Piet is always a white person, with black face paint, bright red lipstick, and a wild 60’s style afro wig. Even the children dress this way for Sinter Claus. I still laugh when I see it. It would cause “nights-o-fire” if someone walked down the street painted up like this in Detroit (or Dover for that matter).

Anyhow, from Mid-November until December 4, the kids put out their shoes each night and Zwarte Piet comes by and puts treats in them - because just like everywhere else in the world, Dutch children can do no wrong and are always little angels in the eyes of their parents. Finally, after many days of festivities, on December 5th Sinter Claus shows up and every kid gets a bunch of presents. And when I say, “shows up”, I mean literally “shows up”. I saw no fewer then 5 SinterClaus’s walking around various neighborhoods (with Zwarte Piet’s in tow) going house to house to visit with the children. He never carried a sack of presents so I guess it was just reassurance that the kids wouldn’t be sold into a life as a black slave down in Spain. Each neighborhood must pick a person to be Sinter Claus to do the rounds that year. I can just picture a group of nervous adults hovering around in a circle with an old geezer tapping each out-stretched fist as he chants “auka bauka stona crocka auka bauka boo, in goes Sinter Claus and out goes Y-O-U”.


The next holiday is Christmas. The real Christmas. December 25 and this one is for the adults (09061750). I was beginning to wonder if they celebrated this holiday at all since there were very few decorations up and everything seemed geared toward Sinter Claus. When I finally asked someone about it I uncovered a prime example of Dutch culture and how ambidextrous it can be at times. Ok, we all know that The Netherlands is one of the most liberal places on the planet, right? They smoke pot, they allow prostitution, they support gay marriage, and they generally have a very refreshing “live and let live” attitude toward their (and your own) existence on the planet. Then come the “rules”. These are those odd little codifications that just don’t seem to fit in Holland. Get this - It is ILLEGAL to sell Christmas trees or decorate the streets for Christmas until December 6th. They impose this restriction to protect their own unique cultural celebration of Sinter Claus and not water it down with western commercialization of Santa Claus. Don’t get me wrong, I actually think it’s pretty cool to limit the commercialization. But isn’t it kind of bizarre for such a liberal place to legislate the selling and placement of holiday ornaments? ….and not marijuana ?

Hmmmm……

Anyhow, here we are on December 12 and Christmas in Holland is in full gear now. Today was KerstMarktdag in Haarlem – the opening of the Christmas market. The main square was filled with vendors and echoed with the voices of a choir singing in Saint Bavo’s church, which was electronically amplified around the city. For those few nooks and crannies too far from the square for the music to reach, bands of singing carolers decked out in full period-costumes prodded a festive smile out of even the greenest of grinches. Hot mulled wine complimented with a soft puffy tart sold for a single Euro and helped to take the edge off of the chilly afternoon.

I know that several of you reading this are somewhat grinches yourselves. You’ve been tainted by the commercialism of “forced” gift buying. Or you’ve become hostile toward the secular evolution of December 25. The Christmas of “others” no longer carries a meaning or relevancy for you and you don’t like what it has become in the modern world. It’s a holiday celebration that is best enjoyed in your distant past.

For you, I wish that you could experience what Beth and I did today as we walked through the medieval cobble stoned alleys of Haarlem. The streets sang with laughter and the pubs and café’s overflowed with merry makers. The sights and sounds of Christmas were everywhere. And I hope that if you had experienced what we did today that it would have made Christmas yours again. That it would have planted a smile squarely on your face and put fluttering wings to your soul – just like you remembered as a kid.

Cheers and Merry Christmas!

The next two postings are also pictures of Sinter Clause (Zwarte Piet) and Christmas in Haarlem.

KerstMarktDag

Christmas Market on the square.

Zwarte Piet

The Moorish elf.

"Castleing"

Can the word "Castle" really be converted to a verb?

Sage and I went to hit a few of the local castles today. The castles in this part of Holland are primarily fortified houses/manors – nothing like what you see in France or Germany. These were simply large private landholders who had the means to build such fortifications and staff them with small private armies. From what we can gather, there was also some protection provided for the local villagers, but it was very limited.

We started out at Broederode Ruins in Santport Noord, just a few minutes drive from Haarlem. It is also strategically located on the way to one of Sages favorite dog parks so we were able to begin with an hour romp in the woods. This particular castle was sacked by the Spanish in the 14th century and it was never rebuilt. They have stabilized the ruins and now allow visitors to walk the grounds, climb the towers and generally explore all the different areas of the fortification. The main hall has been somewhat restored and the locals have evening fires and ghost tales by candlelight. I’ve also been told that they hold an annual Shakespeare event that has the actors and audience throughout the grounds….but we haven’t seen anything official about it yet.

We then drove a bit further north, under the North Sea Canal, and into the town of Heemskerk. This town has a castle from the 15th century, but it has been added onto over the years and is still used today as a venue for weddings and parties. Unfortunately, it was in use today so we couldn’t get onto the grounds for a closer look or historical overview.

The last picture is of Bruge, Belgium. There was room in the photo compilation for one more and thought this was a good one. I can still hear the “clomping” of the horse draw carriage echoing off the wet cobblestone.

Finally - any feedback on the photo compilations? Can you see them or are they too small?

Punctuating the move!

Dutch plates on the car are the final step in our move to the Netherlands. We now have all the trappings of local Dutch folk and can start to explore further afield, including a driving trip to a x-country skiing mecca over in Germany. By the way, the car is intentionally up on the curb. The streets in our neighborhood are pretty narrow and since the sidewalks are wide, most people pull up on to the curb to give enough room for other cars to get by.

Belgium

We spent the weekend in Brussels and did a day trip out to Brugge. Brussels was pretty nice...in my mind it was "just another big city", but there were a few highlights. The new EU parliment building was very impressive and the war museum was the best I've ever seen...although they did not have a Stuka...bummer.

Brugge was outstanding. It's a fully intact medevial town loaded with canals and cool nooks and crannies to explore. It's been a UNESCO world heritage site since 2000. Beth and I have hit a few places on the world heritage list now and have been very impressed. I think we'll start using it as a basis for future travels.

However, rather than just post pictures of monuments, museums and Euro scenery we thought you'd enjoy this little compilation. The first one is the world famous Mannekin Pis statue in Brussels....a bit cliche, but we thought that the Christmas outfit was hilarious. We missed them loading the fountain with beer by a week...a once annual event where the boy pee's beer.

The second picture is again from Brussels. Jesus Paradise Cafe - Peace, Love & Food Cocktail Bar. Now there is a religion I can deal with....only they ought to move it to Amsterdam and convert it to a coffeeshop!

Finally, some serious news upon our return to Haarlem. Mac, the little one year old beagle that was Sage's best friend in Zannenpark was killed by a car on Friday evening. It happened at the same park and at our usual 7:00 pm meeting time. Several dogs were playing in the hedgerow and Mac spotted something across the street. He bolted in front of a car before anyone noticed. Inclusief ga mogen u rust in vrede.

Pictures fom home 

Ijmuiden

Pronounced "eye mauw den", this is the seaway entrance for the port of Amsterdam. It sits just north of Haarlem and is bordered by the National Dune Park. I know that my last post was about wide beaches, but these shots really capture how wide they are. We enjoyed a beautiful sunset on the beach and then went to the overlook restaurant for fish -n- chips and beer. Superb!

Wide Beaches!

Now that we have the car, we're a bit spoiled. It only is a 10 minute drive to Parnacia Beach. These beaches are incredibly wide. There are 3-wheeled trikes that use sails to catch the wind and spin around in the sand. As you can see, dogs are allowed here year round. I hope that Sam doesn't get jealous! Actually, it was a bit "overstimulating" for Sage to have so many dogs around. We ended up having to put her on the line when we got nearer to the crowds....after she took out a woman when chasing another dog.

Mom - This one's for you!

You wanted to see a picture of me with the newly shaved head.

"Shaved" might be a little strong of a word. But Holy Cow - That's a LOT of forehead!

Same park - different worlds.

Here are a few pictures from Zannenpark right across the street from us. The wild animals get the cage.

TGV

My anticipation was building. I was standing on the platform in Brussels about to board the Cote De Sur express - French TGV service on the fastest train in Europe. It would wisk me the width of the continent in only 6 hours.

There was no mistake that this was my train. The letters TGV were painted onto the side of each car. The lettering style was modern graffiti…almost as if some punk had found his way into the rail yard the night before and defaced the gleaming train in front of me. The light grey, multi-tiered engine towered over me as I stood on the platform in awe. I was expecting a sleek, svelte bullet shape like the German ICE trains I had seen in Amsterdam Centraal Station. Those trains appeared capable of aerodynamically carving out their top speed. The behemoth in front of me looked more apt to bullying it’s way to the advertised 300KM/hour.

I found my reserved car and settled into a quad seating deck….4 seats around a small table. Only one other woman was in my compartment and she had staked out her own quad. The train started forward precisely at 9:25…right on time. It pitched and swayed as it climbed out of the underground station. The skyscrapers of Brussels glowed in the morning sun as we emerged from the tunnel. The train screeched its way across a switch and onto the outer track. Once on the proper track, it straightened up heading due south, but still refused to break it’s sluggish, methodical pace.

Ten. Fifteen minutes went by and the mighty TGV was still plodding along like some intercity tramway on the crowded streets of Amsterdam. We were now surrounded by open countryside and my anticipation was peaking. Surely they would start cranking up the massive engines now.

Five more minutes passed. I was starting to lose focus. Maybe the acceleration had been so steady that it would be imperceptible. But tracking the slow, steady pace of the passing scenery out the window confirmed the obvious lack of speed.

About 25 minutes outside of Brussels, just as I was starting to doubt the concept of “High Speed Railway”, an audible groan came from the engine. The sound vibrated down the length of the train. There was a perceptible tug in acceleration. I had the distinct feeling of being on a roller coaster as it clatters to crest the initial hill. Still climbing up, but oh so close to plunging down. We were there.

Faster. Faster. A broad smile came to my face as the train picked up speed. The farms in the distance were flashing by now and the feeling changed from a fun amusement ride to a commercial airliner barreling down the runway ready for liftoff. Only I was in a massive, earthbound carriage and there would be no assent skyward to break the perception of velocity. Just raw, in your face speed.
And terror. The terror that accompanies you on your first airplane trip; or on a 30 meter barrier reef scuba dive; or riding the bull in a 4 man raft on a class IV rapid. The kind of exhilarating terror that screams, “Hey! You are alive!” There was no turning back now…and no reason to want to.

Fifty Year Wedding Celebration 

Haarlem's Grote Market - This is the main market square in the center of old Haarlem. On weekends, during the day the square is filled with vendors hawking everything imaginable - from fish to dog food. The prices at the market are significantly better than in the stores, so it gets very crowded. In the evening, if the weather is good, all of the restaraunts and bars pull their tables out and the square turns into a giant, ad-hoc festival atmosphere.

North Sea Beach

We finally made it out to Zandvoort last weekend. The town itself comprises a lot of non-descript highrise apartment blocks, although there is a nice old downtown with shops, restaurants, and cafes. The main attraction is of course the sea. There is a large dune that hangs about 15 meters above the broad, flat beach. A wide boardwalk rides on top of the dune, overlooking a line of bars and equipment rental shops nestled between the dune and the water. There is a constant breeze from the sea, making windsports like catamarans, windsurfers, and parasails all very popular.

Ancient gates of Haarlem.

The city had a large series of motes, canals, and rivers that protected it from attack and controlled the flow of commerce (taxes). This is the only surviving gate that allowed people and goods through the defenses. It looks kind of odd now because the mote that it sits on is pretty much filled in and no longer functioning....but the gate is still really cool!