Dogs, Delft and a dad's birthday

This past week has once again been dominated by the heatwave here, which is probably no news for anyone in Europe now. Suffice to say, it's been pretty intense here in our corner of Zeeland, but compared to France and Germany, we have been much better off.  Their temperatures have been beyond belief. That said, the nights here have been the hardest part as they didn't cool down and the temperature in our living room never dipped below 27º with a correspondingly high humidity; the bedroom was still over 30º. Needless to say, I sought the lowest point in the house and slept in our sunroom, which, with the sliding doors open, was marginally cooler. The downside came in the squadrons of mosquitos who flew in en masse to snack upon my recumbent form. Unfortunately, the itching has lingered longer than the heatwave, which broke in somewhat noisy style on Sunday night with a thunderstorm that caused havoc elsewhere in the country, but was merely a sleep disturbance here.

Thankfully, it is now cooler and more pleasant, so we and the dogs are much happier. Zoe has been particularly stressed by the heat and has been making much use of her cooling mats. Here she is in the garden with her best friend, Lucy.

But in other news, last Thursday I went to Delft – you know, that Dutch town famous for its lovely blue and white porcelain? I haven't been there for many years and I'd forgotten how heartbreakingly pretty it is with its myriad canals, charming bridges, gorgeous old houses, beautiful city hall, bustling market and everything you'd expect from a traditional Dutch town. The reason for my visit on one of the hottest days of the week was quite special. An author friend, Simon Michael Prior, whose books (both memoirs and fiction) I've enjoyed hugely, was visiting the Netherlands with his daughter. We agreed to meet in Delft where he had last been at the age of 11.

I drove half the way to Bergen op Zoom and from there took the train to Delft, a pretty efficient way of doing the 170 km journey although it was determined more by the closure of the railway line from Goes to Bergen due to work on the tracks than to my personal choice. At the sation, I wrapped the car up in a white sheet leaving it shrouded and in as much shade as I could find to await my return.

I've often had mixed feelings about air conditioning, but for once I relished the wonderfully cool carriage in the train that sped me the rest of the way to Delft. Walking from the station to the Market Square where I met Simon and duaghter Candi was a fairytale meander through cobbled streets, and over delicate arched bridges crossing the town's network of picturesque canals. 

We wasted little time in finding an ideal waterside café with shaded tables where we had lunch and chatted about all manner of subjects. Simon is one of those people I am quickly convinced I've known forever and felt so at ease with that I may just have asked some unforgivably nosey questions. Simon, if you read this, I apologise, but, oh my, you've led such an interesting life and have travelled so much! I had no idea! Candi, his daughter, was a real sweetheart and I'm sure Simon and his wife are very proud of her. I'm sure she will go far in life with her lovely personality.

Anyway, the time passed much too quickly and before we knew it we'd walked a circuitous route back to the station, where we said our farewells and I made my way back to my mummified car in Bergen op Zoom. The drive home was like being slowly grilled, but I made it before I was reduced to charred remains. Okay, slight exaggeration, but my little Fiat is a basic model without airco and open windows  only serve to circulate the hot outside air rather than offering anything refreshing. I was very glad Zoe wasn't with me.

Here are a few of the snaps I took in Delft. Isn't it gorgeous?

Boats can be restaurants too.

A classic view of Delft

Boats and bridges on a Delft canal

A canal, a bridge, bicycles, flowers and trees.
What more could you wish for?

And here is the obligatory meet-up photo with Simon. Don't you love his sunglasses? They are just so cool!

Me with Simon on one of Delft's pretty bridges

Back home again, I spent the next couple of days trying to avoid being fried. My favourite time of day was early evening when I could sit in the garden and enjoy my chaotic corner of flowering shrubs. The buddleia bush has brought special rewards. The butterflies and bees love it and it's been enchanting to watch the red admirals and peacocks dancing over the florets or landing on my hair. These were moments of relief after the gruelling afternoon temperatures. 

My chaotic corner of my little garden

The problem here in the Netherlands is that our homes are designed to retain heat, not dispel it, and we don't have air conditioning, so when summer temperatures like those of the past two weeks hit, there's little escape. Note to self: maybe a mobile airco would come in handy for such spells in the future?

And that brings us to today, the last day of June. This also happens to be Koos's birthday, which we celebrated with his son and daughter-in-law, together with my daughter, at a local restaurant. I think I can honestly say the meal was enjoyed by all and the birthday boy was warmed by his son's visit. Given that they'd only returned from their holiday in Greece yesterday, it was lovely of them to make the trip down to see Koos. Thank you, Sanne and Marije!

Menus printed like old newspapers need careful
reading

The birthday boy :)

So that's it for this week and for June, allemaal. Tomorrow we begin the month of summer holidays, so let's see what July and August bring. For now, enjoy the rest of the week wherever you are, and I'll be back soon with more news and views from our world.

 

Heat waves and harbour ways

Most of my readers here know that I lived in South Africa for nigh on twenty years and also that I loved the climate there. It might surprise you, then, to read this admission: the heat of a European summer can be hard to endure. The thing is, South Africa, or specifically Johannesburg, had a very stable climate; it was cold, dry and sunny in the winter with practically no rain, and hot, dry and sunny in the summer. Winter was often frosty but rarely snowy, while summer days were generally punctuated by an afternoon thunderstorm around 4 p.m., following which the sun would return and everything dried up leaving a freshness that invigorated us all. And yes, it really was that predictable most of the time. I'm not sure about these days as the climate patterns have undoubtedly changed, but the stability and regularity of the weather is something I remember with fondness. For me, it was the best climate I'd ever experienced.

Here in the Netherlands, things are much less certain. April, typically known for showers, was, this year, cold but dry and bright. May, which I'd mostly regard as being the lead-in to summer, was plain miserable until late in the month, when things changed dramatically. Since then, we've had two very hot, extremely humid spells and, like most of the region, we're experiencing one now. And surprisingly, at 30+ºC it's hotter and considerably more humid here than it generally was in Johannesburg, where the average summer temperature used to be around 26ºC; hence the hard to endure remark.

I love summer weather, but I have to confess I'd rather it stayed outside and didn't make the house or the boat so stifling. Zoe suffers too, which is even more of an issue.

Anyway, what else is new? Well, last Sunday we went to Middelburg, the Zeeland provincial capital to see what their harbour festival had to offer. Middelburg is an enchanting town with beautiful traditional Dutch houses and gorgeous back streets that look like something from a fairytale.

The harbour was busy with boats of all types and ages, but I was slightly disappointed there weren't more historic ships and barges. I think perhaps we'd missed the best of those on the Saturday. All the same, it was fun, lively and a popular event judging by the crowds of people attending. Here's a short video I made of the harbour: 

And here are some other photos I took around the backstreets of Middelburg. It is, I feel, a place where people live very graciously. It's totally unpretentious, but in many ways, the town exudes the confidence of a population sure of its place and history:

Beautiful Dutch town houses all in a row, row, row!

Along a sidearm to the main canal

A wonderful view of the city's church

I love the random way in which plants are 
allowed to simply grow wherever they may.

Bicycles and hollyhocks growing through
the paving.
How Dutch can you get?

Three lovely tjalks in a row, row, row.

Looking down the route from or to Vlissingen

A former neighbour from our own harbour

Lots of lovely old saling fishing boats.

At the end of the festival harbour

Another lovely collection of potted plants
adorning the street

The door of a stunning art nouveau building
hidden in the backstreets of Middelburg

Higher up this lovely Art Nouveau building

No garden? We'll do pots then!

I hope you enjoy these images from our lovely capital, allemaal,  and when the temperature drops a bit, and I have more energy, I'll fill you in with the rest of my doings. For now, enjoy your week and wishing you temperate temperature wherever you are!

Village Vending and Vintage vehicles

Life isn't all about boats down here in Zeeland, although you'd be forgiven for believing that's mostly what I think about, which is proabably true.

Anyway, I'm pleased to say that there are subjects which will distract me from them on occasions and one of these is our annual village festival. The Dyke Party, as I will call it, starts on Friday evening and goes  on until Sunday afternoon. During this time, we have a garage sale, a vintage car tour, an art fair and live music performed by local bands specialising in covers of popular rock music. And, of course, there's a beer tent and food provided by our local Spar.

It's very jolly and always well attended. Those participating in the Garage Sale set tables up outside their houses and display all the second-hand goods they hope to dispose of for a few euros. We pay €5 to be on the official garage sale route so that interested shoppers can get a map showing all the participating houses. Ours was the last one in the village, but that didn't stop us from having a steady stream of interested purchasers. It's always good for clearing out the cupboards, but some items are definitely more popular than others. Vinyl LPs, for instance, are hot sellers. We managed to sell almost all of ours. It was pretty hard to see them go but we realised we haven't played records in years. In fact, we don't even have a turntable. So, like everything we don't use anymore, it seemed pointless to keep them even though many of the older albums were part of our history. 

Cameras, however, don't sell at all.  Between Koos and I, we have quite a collection of old but excellent digital cameras that we'd love to find homes for, but no one showed any interest in them. I even have two lovely little analogue Olympus Trip 35mm cameras that you'd think someone might want for a collection, but not one person gave them even a passing glance. There's no accounting, is there?

Also on the vending front, but of a higher and newer quality was the art fair. I was a proud mum when I saw daughter #1's display of paintings she had put together. As a themed set inspired by her trips to the Isle of Skye in Scotland, they were captivating and she not only sold four of them but also generated tremendous interest with her evident passion for Scotland and its scenery

Across the aisle from Jo's table was one displaying equally beautiful ceramic work. It was crafted by a lovely lady in the village who I first met when I went to the optician for some new glasses a couple of years ago. I didn't know then that she was such a talented potter, or that she had her own kiln at home. If you look to the left of the photo below, you might see bowl at the back of the table that looks like an upturned mushroom with a green glaze. I loved it so much I bought it and am so pleased I could support someone local as well as have a piece of ceramic art that I  can cherish.

As you can see from the photo below, though, the work on display was extensive and most of it was high quality. Our village has an unusually high proportion of artists among its residents, and many of them were represented at the fair, although there were others from elsewhere too.

My other favourite attraction was the vintage car collection, which is always impressive. However, I have to admit I got stuck gazing at these two beauties and the 2CV below them. Karmann Ghias and VW Beetles are my absolute favourite cars and these two were really stunningly restored.

As for this little Citroën duckling, its colours are something else and probably not original, but isn't it lovely? Thanks to Koos for the photo, which is lovely too.

I didn't go to the live music, given my general aversion to crowds. I'd already had my fill of mingling for one day, but we could hear the band from some distance away and they were giving a pretty convincing rendition of some good classic rock and roll.

By Sunday night, our village streets had resumed their usual quiet where the noisiest occupants were the jackdaws, pigeons and blackbirds. The annual festival is great but I'll take the peace any day, as well as the opportunity to sit by the Kreek (creek) and watch the ducks like daughter Jo here below.

 Enjoy the rest of your week allemaal and I'll hopefully be back with more boaty progress next time – that's if the rain decides to give us a break!