The Venice of the North

Memories of a beautiful day in Ghent. Probably my favourite city in Europe, I love it's waterways that snake though the city. I've been through here by boat, both public and private, and on each occasion, I have marvelled at its ancient splendour. A little shabby, it's true, but that just adds to its charm.

Coldplay Comfort

Up until 7.00 last night, I had given up hope of going to see Coldplay here in Rotterdam. Originally, I'd booked for the only concert they were going to do in the Netherlands at Arnhem. However, in May, the venue was changed to Rotterdam, and the ticketing company assured me that my booking had been transferred to the new venue too. At first sight, this looked great. My favourite 21st century band was playing in my home town and I wouldn't have to travel across the country to see them. However, I had some misgivings about this change, and asked for further assurance that the booking was confirmed. I got it, but even so, things went wrong.

In the week to yesterday, I spent an inordinate amount of time on the phone and on the Internet trying to find out why my tickets hadn't arrived. Eventually, the ticket company told me they were very sorry, they wouldn't be able to send them, as the suppliers had not provided them. All indications were that when the venue was changed, those who had booked for Arnhem were 'forgotten' and all the tickets re-sold. I was devastated, and made my feelings known widely around the Internet, and also on the Coldplay website's Oracle page.

Well, this was the best thing I could have done. I never expected those around a band of Coldplay's fame would be bothered about a single fan's disappointment, but I was so wrong. The Oracle not only sympathised with my situation, but actively tried to help me, and when that failed, passed my tale of woe on to the Band's liaison manager. The result was amazing!

At 7.10 last night, I received a mail telling me where to go and collect two tickets for the show, which was due to begin at 8.00. I couldn't believe it; didn't believe it in fact. I called Jodie, my daughter, straight away and screamed at her to get over to Rotterdam now now now! She was going to come with me in the first place and was equally disappointed when the tickets didn't show.

I think she must have broken all speed records to get here, but it was only by 8.15 that we were on our way. Luckily, there was a support act on first, so we didn't feel too badly about missing them as long as we were there in time for the beginning of the main event.

On arrival at the stadium, we were even more amazed to be sent to a special door, marked 'Gasten van Coldplay'. We suddenly realised we were the band's guests! Wow and even more wow! It turned out that they had put us on the guest list so that we could get the two tickets, and we had the absolute best seats. We had a moment's fear when our tickets wouldn't go through the scanning machine, and we had to wait in trepidation while the security guy went off to check them. Such relief, though, when he came back and smiled us through.

In fact, in the end, we were so close to the stage, we could practically see every bead of perspiration on Chris Martin's face. The Ahoy is a very large venue, so the risk of being too far to really see anything was quite serious. The concert was fantastic. If I had to write a list of all my Coldplay faves, they played them all, plus most of the tracks from their Viva La Vida album. They started with Clocks and finished, very fittingly, with Yellow. Their energy, charm and sense of fun infected the whole audience. Chris Martin is just such an unbelievably nice person, and he makes even a venue like the Ahoy feel warm and intimate, and that the audience are all his personal friends.

Twice, they made forays into the audience to play songs surrounded by stunned and happy fans. The second time, they turned up right at the back of the auditorium 'up in the gods' and sang two songs there. The look on the faces of the people around them was enough to show how well these guys win hearts and minds with their empathic attitude. With an awesome light show, reflected on swirling orbs above the stadium, and the eruption of the audience every time they started one of their best known songs, it was a concert I will remember as one of the best ever.

What I will remember even more, though, is the kindness and caring of Coldplay's support group. Firstly the Oracle, whose name I don't know, and secondly, the wonderful fan liaison manager, Debs. Without these two, Jodie and I would still be nursing sorry and disappointed hearts for missing this rare visit to our shores by my most favourite group of musical geniuses this side of the millenium! Thank you so very much for making it happen for us, guys. We will never forget it.

Vlotburg - the Floating Castle

It could only happen in Holland, couldn't it? There I was, taking Sin for her first constitutional of the day, when my morning blur was interrupted (if not invaded and assaulted) by an incredible sight. There, against the quay of a familiar harbour, lay a fully fledged medieval castle. Not built deep in granite, as one normally expects to see, but erected on an apparently stone hull, and rocking with the current on the incoming tide.

Sindy and I stopped to inspect this marvel which had literally risen up (or floated in) overnight, and sure enough, our eyes were not deceived. We were not in phase two of our sleep cycle, and we were definitely not dreaming. A castle it was, complete with ramparts and fully armoured soldiers keeping watch. On closer inspection, it proclaimed itself. It is named the Vlotburg, and is apparently a floating museum. So far I have no idea what its purpose is, although I mean to find out; nor do I know what it is doing in a normally quiet harbour out of the usual tourist circuit, but no doubt all will soon be revealed. If so, and as and when, I shall keep you posted!


The Vlotburg from its bows


An armour plated sentry keeps guard - somehow I don't think he moves a lot!


A close up of the 'stone' rudder

Once again, photos courtesy of my phone, so apologies for the poor quality, but as I said before, this could surely only happen in the Netherlands!

The Hennie H moves south

Saturday was the day. After two months of wrestling with mechanical problems on our new bargelet, the Hennie H, Koos finally decided that it was now or never, and quite impulsively for such a trip, we set off on a cool and cloudy Saturday afternoon. It was much colder on the water than I expected, and although I really enjoyed the faring, it would have been difficult to tell from the shivering blob sitting on the back deck next to Koos. We made good time, though and by 6.30 we were at the entrance to my watery nemesis - the Hollandsch Diep. It was a toss up whether to keep going and head across to the Volkerak Sluis (lock), or play it safe and stop at Strijen Sas. Given that we had no lights, and couldn't be sure of making it across before sundown, the latter won. Not that I was sorry, because we had time for a long walk in peaceful country and something to eat at the local 'eet café' before settling down for the night. At the lock, that would have been it - just the lock.

Sunday morning dawned crystal clear and bright with the sparkling water and bright sunshine. The Diep didn't get me this time, and neither did the Volkerak (another Diep). It was truly beautiful as we passed through the Rijn Schelde canal and then into the lock before the Oosterschelde (a monster Diep). This lock was quite a small one and we were the only ones in it. It only had a few inches to go up or down, but we waited...and waited...then the foot tapping started. Twenty minutes later, an apologetic lock keeper appeared to tell us the door wouldn't open, and would we mind waiting half an hour? We smiled - not much choice really! Still, it gave Koos a chance to set his mind at rest about his mechanical nightmares, and indeed, half an hour later we made our way out of the lock into - the Sea...eeek!

The Oosterchelde was very choppy with strong winds, white caps and lots of waves. It was also very beautiful but hard for me to appreciate given that I was clenching my teeth to keep my stomach from making a grand and messy exit. An hour and some later, both my innards and I were relieved to enter the South Beverland canal and still waters again. We'd made amazingly good time, and by 4.30, we'd reached the big locks at Hansweert, and the entrance to the notoriously busy and sealike estuary, the Westerschelde, where I elected to leave Koos. Two reasons. I had to be sure of getting back to Rotterdam for work today, and secondly, I didn't really want my stomach to have a second attempt at parting company with me. The last picture here was taken at the top of the lock, up which I'd climbed to get off the boat. I was a little worried about leaving Koos as the traffic on the WS is also notoriously large and plentiful. As I watched him leaving, I saw a sea ship the size of a whole town passing the entrance to the canal. Gulp! The Hennie H is so small. Would they even see it?

An hour an a half and an 8km walk later, as I was waiting for the train to take me back to Rotterdam, the phone rang, and it was Koos. I could hear something was up. "I've arrived in Terneuzen," he said "Wow!! That's fantastic. Well done!!" I shouted with relief. "Yes, well that was the good news. The bad news is that as I left the Westerschelde to turn into Terneuzen, the rudder got stuck and wouldn't turn anymore."

I'm not sure at all that was bad news now. It's terrible that there is yet another problem with the Hennie H, but I think the angels were watching over Koos yesterday. If the steering had got stuck when he was still on the open waters...well, it just doesn't bear thinking of, does it?

Luckily, with the help of the Terneuzen lock keeper, and a kindly commercial skipper, the Hennie H was towed the remaining 15 odd kilometres, and is now at its official mooring in Sas van Gent. On to phase 2 of its restoration. Ah well, at least it's finally where we want it!


The Hollandsch Diep


Past the Volkerak Sluis


Not a very good one of you know who


The Lock where we got stuck


Koos leaving to cross the Westerschelde. Apparently it was calmer than the Oosterschelde, so I'd probably have been ok!

PS: Apologies for the poor quality of the photos. All are from my phone. In our rush to leave, I forgot two important items: My book and my camera!

The Vereeniging's new look interior walls

My 'office' - just ignore the usual clutter and look at the new panelling - sans paint still, but nothing's finished yet!


Still a window frame to make, and yes, that is Koos and Sindy in their favourite spots! Sorry about the fuzzy bits. Must have had a wobbly hand with this one!


And from the other direction

Overall, I've lost about 15 centimetres width due to the amount of insulation I've put between the panelling and the steel, but it doesn't feel too different. There is a sense of reduced 'volume' though. You can see the difference if you look at the section in the kitchen which still has its old panel sitting there. There's going to be a window in that one place, so no steel and no new panelling there yet, so that is still at the old width.

The beauty of the Thames at the barrier

On Friday I went to London to visit my brother and my sister. As I flew in very early (the price you pay for cheaper flights is being dragged out of bed at uncivilised hours), I had some time to spare. Landing at London City Airport also meant that I was close to the Thames Barrier, which I'd never seen before, as well as to Docklands, a region of the city I remembered from my childhood but had never re-visited.

At 7.30 in the morning, I was the only mad soul wandering next to the Thames. It was a grey day, but even so, at low tide, the river was extraordinarily lovely. It has an untamed quality that our Maas here doesn't have, and I love the mud flats and the waders. Below are just a few of the photos I took that morning. The Barrier itself is strange but also rather beautiful in this soft water colour light.










We're back in Rotterdam now, and it's back to work tomorrow. Lots to do on the home front as well with Maryssa arriving next week, but I'll keep you posted on that front too. xx

Here are more of my pics if you'd like to see them. They are totally unedited so no lines or horizons straightened. Sorry.

Buried in the Bundu

This past week has been so restful. Koos and I have been at the little house in Westdorpe, and to be honest I have no clear idea what we've been doing apart from sleeping, painting windows and doors, walking and (for me) writing. Nothing has been particularly rushed, and we haven't been very far either. To Ghent a couple of times, once to a second hand furniture shop, and the second time to follow the waterway through Ghent as part of the research I needed for my writing. On both occasions it rained as it has been doing for most of this month, but we didn't mind at all.

On Friday we went further afield on a memory lane trip to La Louviere, south of Brussels. For some reason this old mining town next to the canal with the famous ascenseurs (boat lifts) has a deep and lasting place in our affection. It rained again, but we didn't care, and walked along the peaceful, disused canal, loving every dripping moment. We also have a tradition of buying shoes there (go figure that one!), and returned to a favourite shop where the proprietor was expansively French, wreathed in smiles and bonhomie and smoking shamelessly in his shop. In fact, the no smoking bans in the rest of Europe seem to have escaped the Belgians as everyone seems to smoke everywhere..ironic considering most of the legislation comes out of Brussels.

On Saturday, we made further inroads into village life by going to the neighbourhood barbecue, which far from being the provincial village bash that one might expect, was great fun. The people from our dyke village were warmly welcoming and we soon got chatting to a small group of lively, interested and interesting people. Then there was good rock music and dancing, plenty of smooth red plonk and the end result was a great evening. When we left, everyone waved cheerful goodbyes and we felt thoroughly accepted.

Yesterday, we finished painting the front door and window frames of the house a rich and glossy dark green and cream, accompanied by cheerful commentary from our English neighbour, who claimed that watching us work was the most relaxation he'd had all week.

The front of the house as it looks now. Still the fascia board to do all round, but it looks so much brighter


Just a reminder of what it was like when I first saw the house


Extreme close-up of the front door. I love the colour combination now. It looks so much classier than the dismal brown it was before

We'll be here for the rest of this week. Tomorrow I'm going on a mission to Brussels in search of a bedroom cupboard for the house, having discovered that second hand furniture in Belgium is of a better quality and cheaper than it is in Holland. I'll also be winding myself back into work gear during the week as I have some big projects starting in September. However, on Friday, I'm off to London for the day to visit my brother who had a brain aneurysm a few weeks ago and is still rather unwell as a result. It was a shock to us all, as he has always been so fit. The doctors say it will take up to a year for him to be well again, so I'm hoping to take him so good cheer at the very least.

Take care all of you until I am back in Rotterdam. xxx Val

A Break at last

These past weeks have been crazy. Since my last post, I've been working against the clock to re-build the interior of my barge, much of which had to be dismantled for the new steel sides to be welded on.

The problem was that the green wooden panels formed my 'walls' before, both inner and outer, but with the new steel, I've had to add insulation and timber on the inside, and then put the old panels back on the outside of the steel. I know I should have taken photos, but I've just been too tired to even think of that. I wish I had though, as it all looks very nice now. I've used tongue and groove pine planking over 5cm thick insulation, which gives it a rather different look and feel inside. I have, however, kept the separators between the panels so it still feels quite familiar, and I still have the continuous line from the floor and up the walls and over the ceiling, which I've always liked.

On the exterior, it all looks exactly the same as my dear friend Alex kindly and nobly painted the green panels for me and Koos and I put them pack into place yesterday. The outside appearance is of course what is important as far as its historic image goes, so as long as that looks the same, no one is going to complain. For my part, though, the barge is now stronger, more weather proof and will be able to take the waves on the river without letting water in. As we say in the boating world "water outside boat:very good. Water inside:BAD!!"

We are down in Westdorpe now for a much needed break. While I was busy with my re-building project, Koos was hard at work on the Henny H. Sadly, there has been one problem after another with its engine and technical apparatus. Somewhat soul destroying for poor Koos - and Bruce, who has been helping him. Just as they thought they'd got the last thing fixed, something else has cropped up to cause further delays, so we decided to cut and run for at least the next week to ten days to give ourselves some respite.

Hoping you are all enjoying your summer/winter whichever side of the line you happen to live on. Love from us here in cloggieland.