Grown-up millenials

We've all heard about the 'millenial' phenomenon by now, haven't we? That strange period we are currently going through where kids born in the eighties and nineties (although I think it's more nineties than eighties) are displaying certain characteristics never seen before, as a result of the internet age - the nose in their phones, not listening, not reading and wanting to be spoon-fed phenomenon?

Well, I've got news for you all. I've realised it's not just the kids. Don't put all the blame on them. No, no, no. I have personal and intimate experience of dealing with some fully grown forty to fifty-year-old, matured in wine, cheese head millenials with more holes in their memories than a lump of good Edam. You don't believe me? Well, I have proof...indisputable, unputdownable (oh no, that's books isn't it?), irrefutable proof. You see, I know them; lots of them.

Let me explain. My day job is to teach Academic Writing and Business Communication at the university in Rotterdam and also for students at the University of Amsterdam. Now without going into too many details, many of these students are not youngsters, but PhDers and Research Master's students who have returned to academia at a later stage in their lives, for what reason I don't really know, as I tend not to have time to get involved in their personal lives. By the way, the same goes for me too in their eyes.

When I go into class, I think they regard me as some kind of android. I have no existence outside the classroom. This conviction is so strong that if I inadvertently bump into one of them elsewhere in my other guise as a human being, they don't quite know how to handle it. It's true!

Anyway, that's beside this particular point. Where was I? Ah yes, Edam cheese. The truth of the matter is they are just as bad as the teenagers. When I teach their classes, half the time they are fiddling with their phones under the desks (at least I think that's what they're doing; I dread to think what else it might be), or they're checking their Twitter or Facebook messages on their tablets. Then they they seem to have to rush out of the room for urgent calls in a sort of cyclic rota system throughout the lesson. I swear they've arranged it all in advance! There's no pretence that they need the loo; no, nothing as subtle as that. They have about as much finesse as a bull in a china shop and the tact of a northerner stripped of his charm (apologies to any northerners reading this, but you're much better, I promise). This of course means that they don't listen, they don't read, and they don't know what they're supposed to be doing at the end of the class, and then they blame me when things go wrong. They do. It leaves me speechless. The Edam cheese analogy is no joke; it really isn't, Any gems of information I impart seem to disappear into the holes and out the other side. Nothing is retained.

Then there are the written assignments that have to be submitted online. After dealing with the torrent of emails they dump on me when they realise in panic that they haven't understood (for that, read 'listened to') the assignment and the deadline is a matter of hours away, I then start receiving their offerings. If that's what you can call them. I have a very strong suspicion some of them might be trying to write their theses, or at least their papers, on their smartphones. I mean it! I say this because I'm totally convinced they do their assignments on them.

Firstly, they manage to overlook instructions that are written in capital letters, bold type and outsize fonts, which are as clear as flashing neon signs without the neon; secondly, they can be guaranteed to upload them in the wrong style format even though every assignment has aforesaid neon sign equivalents telling them how to do it, and finally the end result is so shoddy, messy and badly presented that I cannot believe they have the temerity to send them in as an academic writing or business document.

Now everyone makes the odd typo (see my tweets, says she hanging her head in shame), but these, dear readers, these are supposed to be serious, graded assignments. I am, I have to say, flabbergasted. This evening (and after this I'll shut up, climb down of my high horse and shuffle off to bed) I read an assignment where the word 'synopsis' was spelt in each of the following ways: synops, synopse, sinopsys, and synopsise. And all in one paragraph. Yes.

So, my friends, you want to tell me about a millenial generation? I'm not buying it. I think it's a complete millenial society, or should I call it a symptom of close encounters of the Edam kind?

Happy Sunday everyone! I'll be spending at least some of the day trying to unscramble gobbledegook and answering daft questions that Google has much more patience with than I have.

A flurry of activity

Well here we are at the beginning of March already, and it's been quite a busy time in a number of ways. The trouble is I don't quite know how and what to say about it, but let's see what comes out!

As you all know by now, I published my new book last weekend. I haven't launched it as such, so there's been no party or fireworks lighting up the Oude Haven (hmm, that was a missed opportunity) ; maybe I'll celebrate more when I've brought out the paperback which I still have to do. Having the real book in my hands is still something I cherish. Nevertheless, it's going well and so far, those who've read it have enjoyed it - or so they say.

Then last Monday, we were treated to a visit by some very special people. John and his Dee from Yorkshire popped in to say hello while visiting Rotterdam for the weekend. John is a friend of my sister and brother-in-law and has in fact known the latter since they were kids. I met John some years ago, and knew then that he had lived in Rotterdam for a while back in the seventies. He was blown away by the changes to this great city; something I can well imagine as when he was here last, there were still massive wasteland areas that had not yet been rebuilt after the bombing in 1940. Rotterdam is now famous for its fabulous modern architecture, most notable of which is the new Markthal.  We had to take them to see it, of course, so here's a photo I took from inside it with my not very smart phone. I love the view of the famous Potlood building!

And here's another I took outside. This is the library with its unusual exterior pipe design. I really like it but I know it's not everyone's cup of tea. The light on it was amazing after a day of constant rain, but the photo isn't really good (see remark re phone). Still, you get the idea.

Then on Thursday, poor Koos had to have some surgery - nothing serious, but it's kept us harbour bound for the last couple of days. The handy thing was that he had it done at the local Havenziekenhuis hospital, so as they wouldn't let him out before I had to go to work (later than anticipated), they took him back to the barge in the hospital electric taxi, an odd little contraption that looks like a fully covered golf cart. We'd decided he could wait till my daughter could fetch him, but the nurses offered him the ride, which he gratefully took.

Then yesterday, I had to have my annual training session to maintain my position as a Cambridge ESL speaking examiner. Given that I've only done one lot of examining ever (this time last year), it was very necessary, believe me. I'd forgotten a lot and as I'm actually going to be examining next week, I was very glad of the refresher. I'm not sure who's more nervous about it - the candidates or me!

So we are now on board this wet (again) Saturday morning when we would normally be at the crumbly cottage. Still, all is otherwise well, Koos is on the mend, and I'll catch up with everyone next week. Now that wasn't bad for someone who didn't know what to write, eh?

Is it really spring?

I've been realising recently how much I struggle with winter. When I was a teenager in the UK, I had a very hard time with it and almost without fail, every February would find me at the doctor with my exasperated mother who didn't know what what wrong with me. It was just winter. I know that now.

In all the years I spent in South Africa, I never once had the winter blues. Winters there are just glorious. They are very cold at night, but during the day, it is wall to wall sunshine and warm. And best of all, it doesn't rain. I loved it and never once complained because the winters were too dry. Quite the reverse.

Winter in Africa - a happy visit to Postmasburg in 2008

Then in 2001, I returned to Europe. Enough said. I struggle my way through every winter and what has made things worse in recent years is an allergy to the cold. I won't go into to how that manifests itself, but it's a form of dermatitis and it's not nice at all. Anyway, enough of that. This morning I saw snowdrops in the garden at the crumbly cottage and we had a wonderful walk in bright sunshine that even had a hint of warmth to it. Last week, I walked into town in the sunshine without even needing my hat! That was a major lift up or uplift; whatever you like to call it, I felt a whole heap better.

I'm sure there will be setbacks but it's so heartening to know that spring is definitely on the way. I have to say I am very cheered by the prospect - as I am every year. And as I also say every year, next winter I am going somewhere warm for a serious amount of time. But that's in the lap of those who employ me - and I know that too!

For now, I'll just revel in the oncoming spring and the longer days, and of course that first spuddle of the year! It's coming soon and I can feel it... Happy spring holidays everyone!

A walk into town in the sunshine

View from the bridge

I wish I could have been on this one going south!

Winter back to normal: wet, windy, whiteouts

Following my lovely trip to Spain at the end of January, I am now grounded for as many weeks as it takes to get my new passport. When I booked my ticket, I only just realised in time that my passport expired at the beginning of this month, so I just managed to get back with a day to spare. Phew! The funny thing is that even though I needed to produce my passport to fly to Spain, no one really looked at it, so it made me wonder if it would have made any difference if I'd come back a couple of days later. Now, I'm back, though, it feels odd to think I can't really go anywhere for a while, but on the other hand, this is not the time of year for travelling unless it's to somewhere nice and warm, is it? I shall just dream up some warmth instead until I am free to go again.

Here in the flatlands we have the resumption of our normal winter weather. I enjoyed the earlier cold, sunny days because the sky was blue and the light gorgeous, but I suppose it was destined not to stay that way. February has brought the usual whiteout and we have snow, wind, ice and those spooky white skies. Yesterday, I was in Amsterdam to teach and the snow started then. It was bitterly cold, the wind was like a razor and the snowflakes felt like hail battering my face. Trains were cancelled and the roads in chaos - condition normal during winter 'wevver'. It crept southwards over night and this morning we had a good layer of snow on the hatches. Then it snowed fairly steadily for most of the day even though most if it didn't settle. Typically for the Netherlands, it's all a bit too wet to last.

Still, there were some people determined to enjoy the day regardless of the prevailing conditions. This is what we saw from the boat this morning. Even though I think they are totally bonkers, I can't help but admire their cheerful stamina, can you? It certainly made my day to see them!

Thanks to Koos for catching them before they disappeared!

Seen from a neighbouring barge

And yes, that is snow on the decks

Keep warm everyone! I hope it's not too miserable where you are, and if you're lucky enough to be in the southern hemisphere, send some of your sunshine this way....please?

A trip of the switch: another shabby blog story...

Stunning view across the valleys north of Alicante

In case any of you are wondering what happened next after the cliffhanger that I finished the last post on (well that's what I hoped it would be), I thought I'd continue the story of my adventures in a Spanish Airbnb. The rest of my stay wasn't half as eventful although it was absolutely lovely as I shall go on to show in photos, but the first night was the one made for storytelling.

Where was I then? Oh yes, I'd managed to scramble into bed after my dark and dangerous encounter with the switches from hell in the stairwell.

So there I was lying on the bed with my iPad for company when I felt the evening chill starting to creep up my legs from my toes. My hostess had shown me there was a small fan heater and had indicated by means of extensive sign language that I could use it if I got cold. She also pointed to an extension cable that would make it possible to do so without having to haul the wardrobe out of the way to plug it in. I'd peered at the cable rather doubtfully as it didn't look all too new, but deciding this was the right moment to trust her, I pulled the heater off the shelf and plugged it in. With some trepidation, I turned up the dial, and then with relieved gratitude, I felt the warm air flow into the room. I climbed back on the bed, put my feet under the duvet and started reading. Bliss. After all my adventures, this was just what I needed. The room started to heat up and I was comfortable. I began to think my mistrust had been unfounded. Big mistake.

Just as I was getting to a good bit in my book (I forget now what it was, but let's assume I was going to find out who dunnit), a sharp clap announced the end of my fun. The lights went out, the heater went off and I was left in pitch darkness again. Oh no? Oh yes!

So much for the extension cable. I felt sure that was the weak link in this particular situation but for a moment I felt guilty and rushed over to turn the heater off. What had I done? One night in Alicante and I was causing electrical mayhem. Of course I realised soon enough it wasn't like that and in fact it was nothing to do with me at all.

However, now I had a problem. If I wanted light in my life again, I'd have to report this to my hostess, but her rooms were right at the other end of the apartment. To reach her, I'd have to find my way through the dining room, into another passage and figure out which door I should pound on to get her attention. I peered out into the passage. Everything was black. Oh dear. I had visions of re-enacting my spider dance on the stairs only with the greater risk that I would start bashing into obstacles and break things other than myself if I had to grope my way all that distance. This prospect didn't seem very inspiring.

After plucking up courage and then losing it several times (picture a speeded up film of someone going in and out of a room - that was me), losing it won and I decided the world could get stuffed for the night; I would just go to sleep. Stumbling around in the dark, I unplugged the heater, pulled the blankets off the other bed, piled them on mine and crawled under. Fortunately, and in spite of the fact I was still quite cold, I went to sleep quite quickly. Unfortunately, I woke up in the middle of the night needing the loo.

I lay there for a moment sort of hoping that the lights would have miraculously untripped by this time, but no such luck. I got up, groped around for the switches and tried them all. The lights remained rather uncooperatively off. Then I had the genius stroke of remembering my iPad. Down to its last 3% (because of course I couldn't charge it up), I prayed it would last long enough to light me to the bathroom and back. So there I was again, holding my screen out like some kind of shield to negotiate my way through the inky darkness and whispering 'The dining room, the final frontier' and  'may the force be with me' to cheer myself up. It's amazing what fun I can have by myself.

The iPad survived until, business accomplished, I was halfway back to my room, but by then I'd noticed a ghostly light creeping through one of the windows. When the screen went off too, I managed to make the last few steps without disaster.

In the morning, I reported the incident to my hostess, who merely shrugged, walked to the switchboard in the passage, a mere couple of metres from room and pushed up the switch. If I'd only known.

I didn't fess up about my night time adventures, nor did I say anything about the cable. I expect she knew, but given our somewhat limited communication means, I think neither of us wanted to complicate matters any further. I had my breakfast (a curious combination of dry toast, fruit and coffee), packed my bag, and with broad smiles (what more could we do?) we bade each other farewell.

The remaining three days were heaven. I spent them in great company in a beautiful location and visited a charming local animal blessing festival in Teulada. For this, though, some photos will suffice. Enjoy the rest of your week allemaal!

Moraira sea front

The shack I'd adopt if I could

View from just below the shack

Wonderful walks

Beautiful almond blossom alive with bees

Lemons ripe for the picking

Waiting for the procession to begin for the animal blessing

Heading towards the church. All creatures
great and small

The great ones...beautiful!

And the priest dispensing holy water on all
the furry friends

Adventures with Airbnb in Alicante

I have had so much fun this last weekend. I really have. I've been on a four day trip to Spain to stay with and see friends. I was due to stay near Moraira (between Valencia and Alicante) for most of the time, but the first night, I booked an Airbnb room in Alicante itself as I'd never been there before. I've also never used Airbnb before and it proved to be quite an experience.

Now I'll admit that I have little to no Spanish at all, and since Airbnb is often offered by people who have spare rooms in their own homes (actually what normal B&B used to be), this means that you are likely to be staying with local people. I won't name the lady I stayed with here or give her address, because she was really very sweet and I wouldn't want to put anyone off. Added to that, at least some of my problems were caused by a) the fact that I left my phone at home in Rotterdam (duh) and b) communication difficulties, which were hardly her fault. Anyway, all that aside my stay at her flat proved to be very good meat for a blog post, which is what you're getting here.

For the sake of giving her an identity, I'll call my host lady Sara. Well, Sara and I had been arranging things over the internet using the useful if not always accurate Google as our interpreter. So far so good. Even if the messages were slightly offside at times, we did at least understand I was going to arrive at her address at between 3 and 4 p.m. Which I did.

Last Friday afternoon, I found my way easily from the airport into Alicante by bus and walked the short, but very steep 400 odd metres to her house from the bus stop. To ensure I was at the right address and about to press the correct buzzer, I double checked the details. All was well till I rang the bell.

I pressed, pushed, leant on one side and then the other of the little button, but nothing happened and nothing I did would persuade it to ring. There was no sound and no one came to the door. Somewhat perplexed, I wondered how I could contact her. It was soon after 3 p.m., so I thought maybe she wasn't home yet. But how was I to find out without a phone? What a predicament.

What I did have, though, was my iPad, so I decided to go back down the hill to the centre and find a café with WiFi where I could email her. Which I did too. Again with the help of my friend, the sometimes mischievous translator, Google, I composed a message and sent it to her. I told her I'd left my phone at home, that I'd been to the flat and that it seemed no one was there. I then said I'd go back at 4:30 p.m. and try again. The message that came back translated like this: 'I hope you get your phone back. I'll be on the floor. The bell is 4b' As you can imagine, I was puzzled and my imagination went into overdrive.

Finishing my coffee, I hefted up my bag, which had gained weight significantly by this time (funny how they do that, isn't it?) and staggered off back up the hill to the BnB. Again, I tried the bell and again nothing happened. I peered through the glass and there was no one lying on the floor either.

Then (at last) it occurred to me that maybe the bell didn't work. I furtively pressed another one to see what would happen. Its loud and peremptory buzz made me jump out of my skin, and I prayed its owner wasn't in. How embarrassing that would have been! I began to sweat trying to imagine what I would say to any possible 'Qué?' that might come through the intercom. Luckily for me, no one answered, but it certainly confirmed that Sara's bell wasn't working.

What to do now? She patently wasn't on the floor and her bell wouldn't work. Was I really going to have to crawl back to the café with my ten ton load, buy more coffee and send her another message? Just as I was preparing to gather up my courage, a light came on and Sara appeared, right there 'on the floor'. She was clearly puzzled that I hadn't rung the bell as she was pointing at it when she opened the door, but when she realised hers was the only one in the whole block that didn't work, she was duly very apologetic.

We climbed up the eight flights of stairs to her fourth floor apartment, by which time I realised I was not as fit as I thought I was. I was practically on my knees by the time we got to her door. Well, she kindly gave me a restorative cup of coffee and introduced me to her daughter who did speak English. Apparently Google had played with my message too and they thought I'd lost my phone at the café which was why I'd gone back there. A litany of confusion, but anyway, they gave me a key for going in and out.

The next fun with breaking and entering - sorry, getting in - occurred when I went back to the BnB after taking an evening stroll round Alicante. It's a lovely city and I spent a lot of time walking around until well after dark, so by the time I got back, the entrance was dark too. Going in, I looked for a light and found one of those timed switches - you know the type. They stay on for a while and then turn themselves off. Lots of apartment blocks and hotels have them. I pushed this one and the light came on, so I started up the stairs, but it wasn't long before I realised I couldn't remember how many floors I'd climbed or how many storeys the building had. Oh dear. And there was nothing on any of the landings to say which one I was on. Oh dear, oh dear. I tried a key in the door I thought was the right flat and it didn't work. Oh dear, oh dearie dear. Not knowing now if I had to go up or down, I hesitated, and at that moment my time was up with the lights. Everything went black. And I really mean black.

Now just picture this - Val groping her way all around the walls in total darkness like a manic spider. It was crazy and I still couldn't find the light switch, so then I had a mild (micro) panic. I didn't dare go down or up the stairs. Firstly, I didn't know where they were and secondly, I was sure I'd break my neck if I tried. Can you imagine it? I could have sat down and pushed myself around on my backside I suppose or crawled, but didn't want to risk that either. I mean supposing someone came out of their flat, switched the light on and found me crawling up the stairs on my hands and knees. I was cringing at the thought. Then joy of joy, I remembered my iPad, which I'd thankfully taken with me. If I opened it, I would have the light from the screen. Talk about 'let there be light!' What a relief!

With the help of my trusty tablet, I confirmed my key was wrong for the door I was looking at and after shining the iPad around up and down the stairwell, I decided I needed to go up one more floor. I still couldn't find the light switch, though, so I used my screen light to find my way upstairs. Such was my gratitude that I'd got to the right door, I unlocked it, crept into my room and went to bed.

Now then,  shall I tell you about what happened when all the lights and heater in my room tripped out too? Hmm, no, I think I'll leave that for now. This is quite enough of a shaggy blog story :) More on the beauties of the Spanish coastal areas next time. Have a great week ending everyone!

Real Winter Wonders

As most of you know by now, I hate winter. I endure it because, well, there's no other choice, but in the world of wishes and dreams, I'd be the sort of creature that hibernates until spring. Alternatively, I would have the time, freedom and money to spend my winters somewhere that it isn't - winter, that is.   But wishes and dreams are what these will remain, and so I have to resort to my fall back position and endure.

This winter has been/is being proper cold! Quite a shock to the system after a few years where wet and windy have been the overriding features of our flatland Januaries. We've been having sub zero temperatures overnight for a couple of weeks now and it's not been much over freezing during the day. This means a few things (some of the time) that I do like: 

Sunshine! Yes, beautiful, cloudless blue skies with lots of glowy golden light! I also like the fact that even when it's cloudy, Dutch skies nearly always have a lightness to them and I never feel oppressed by the weight and density of the cloud cover the way I used to in England. The flatness has its own beauty in the cold weather. The endless horizons have a kind of mystical quality and in the evening light when the haze starts to rise, it is magical.

The rooftops of Leiden

Mist. Some days there's too much of this and it's simply fog, but I like it when it hovers over the ground in the mornings and you can see the sun through it. It usually means it will be a nice day later on. On other days when it's not so thick, it just drifts in layers over the fields, which is lovely.

Ice! When the ponds and ditches freeze over, it isn't long before we see the Dutch doing what they are born to do, and that's skating. I can't skate myself, but I love watching the way the Dutch relish and enjoy the ice. Whole families get their skates on and go out to play, even tiny toddlers, and of course the dogs go too. It is a wonderful sight, a real celebration of winter at its best.

Last weekend, we went for a walk in and around Willemstad with my daughter and her man. The ice skaters were out in force, the sun was shining and it was a truly beautiful winter's day. If that is what the real cold brings, then it will do for me. I cannot wait for winter to pass, but this at least I can appreciate. I hope the sun is shining wherever you are!

January in the flatlands

Here we are already halfway through January and I haven't posted anything about the start of the year or what's been happening. Well, briefly, not a lot!

I can sum up the year's events so far in three sentences: I've finished writing my travelogue and it's now out with Beta readers as my aim is to publish it next month as a Kindle book; teaching work has started, but very slowly so we (that's Koos and I) are filling in my gaps by redecorating the crumbly cottage; we've been for lots of lovely walks and most notably our traditional New Year's trek across the beach.

This year we went to Cadzand in Zeeuws Vlaanderen, so my traditional photos with dogs and people frolicking on the sands are below.

 And these next photos are from our walks around the crumbly cottage when the sun has shone. As they say on the weather forecast, sunny intervals, and as intervals have gone, they've been just about long enough for a brisk 4kms and then it's been a case of diving inside before the sleet and hail has hit again.

My aims for the coming months are a bit more extensive: I want to finish the South African novel I started about a year ago and which was interrupted by all sorts of other commitments. I still have no real idea where it's going, but I keep writing in the hopes that a pattern and a good story will emerge from the jumble of half formed plans that I keep mentally sifting through. I then want to start on my WWII novel.

In the meantime, we have to prepare our Hennie H for going to Poland. That is the big plan for this year, and we hope to spend about four months travelling. I'm both very excited and rather nervous about it as not being the youngest of couples, I don't want to go anywhere too far from civilisation in case something happens to either of us. We will need to plan our route very carefully.

In between all this, I would like to go to Italy and to the UK again to see friends, although these are likely to be long weekends if they happen. However, I am definitely going to Spain for a weekend in two weeks, but more on that later. Last but not least, I have to finish renovating my back cabin on the Vereeniging, but I'll wait until it's just a bit warmer to do that!