A ripple in my routine

This last week has been a bit different from the usual routines that we've fallen into since lockdown and curfew have become part of our lives. Two events occurred to disrupt the pattern I've personally fallen into of work, walk, work and write. The first of these was a national event of some importance and a great occasion for me personally. 

We had an election on March the 17th, a day more commonly known for being St Patrick's Day. Mind you, there wasn't much of St Patricke's favourite colour about the voting results because the Green party here (Groenlinks) didn't do so well. That said, the Animal Rights party (Partij voor de Dieren), which is also focused on environmental issues, had a better showing and managed to gain two seats. However, the outcome was very much as predicted and Prime Minister Rutte is set to serve another term as head of the government, albeit with a different mix of parties in the coalition (probably).

So why was it an occasion for me, you might ask. Well, it's the first time I've ever been able to vote in a national election here and is actually my first vote since 1994 in South Africa – that momentous year when Nelson Mandela became president. So yes, 27 years (the same number as Mandela spent on Robben Island) since I've been entitled to cast my ballot. I even got a red pencil to mark the occasion – okay, everyone did, but I'm keeping mine as a souvenir! And yes again, it felt pretty good to walk to the voting station and have my say. The right to vote is one I value, given that it's been so long since I've had that right.

The other change in my routine was the start of a new course in what is today's face-to-face mode: Zoom. It's been a few months since I've sat in front of my computer screen and talked to students in real time. So far this year, all my courses have been asynchronous although they've been pretty intense and a lot of work. As a result, it was both refreshing as well as slightly nerve-wracking to be on the spot again and explaining things verbally. My students are lovely, though, and it all went well so I am looking forward to the coming weeks with them.

All that aside, I'm still doing my best to continue my daily walks. Sunshine hasn't been too plentiful of late, but when it comes out, I'm out there marching through mud and mire to maintain my minimum of 4kms a day.  The photos below are of my tramp through the puddles on the nature reserve near our canal on Friday.

Then yesterday, Koos and I discovered a lovely new wooded area to the east of the crumbly cottage. It lies on the Belgian border and is in what is called a water collection and extraction area. In Dutch this is called waterwinning. What this means is that the acres on which the woods stand are designated for 'winning' drinking water and irrigation from the ground. Throughout the woods there are deep channels that look like moats and it is from these and the water table below that our potable water is drawn. The woods and the water are protected but the locals are still allowed to enjoy the forest paths and walk there with their families and dogs. It was a beautiful discovery and I'm pretty sure we'll be going there again.

Belgian border post
Remember No. 1 in last week's post?

Koos with his personal prosthesis :)

 

A dry channel in the waterwin area

One of the water collection channels in the waterwin area

Looking into Belgium from the Dutch side of the woods
Note the Belgian border post seen in close-up above.

I'm itching to get going with painting on the Vereeniging and the Hennie H again, but despite the sunshiny photos, it's still pretty cold and so not good for paintwork. I know to my cost in both effort and money it's not worth trying to paint when the overnight temperatures are under 10C. Before it is properly dried and set, the paint can be badly damaged by the cold, which is what happened when I pushed my luck last autumn. I know. I'll just have to be patient.

Anyway, for now I'm busy enough. Have a good week allemaal and I'll catch up with you all again soon.

A weekend of superlatives: from the highest hill to the deepest lock in the Netherlands.

 Last weekend, we went away. I know. It seems almost unbelievably adventurous after having been confined to my weekly commute between Rotterdam and Zeeland for an entire year. Given that we are in lockdown, you might well wonder why we went at all. Well, there were three reasons: the first was that I'm doing research for a project I’m busy with and needed to go to there; the second was that my daughters had extolled the beauties of the area I needed to go to, this being south Limburg, and thirdly, I knew it would be very quiet and empty of people. The town we stayed in was Valkenburg, which most of the time exists for tourists. However, there are no tourists now so we could be assured of a peaceful time with virtually no one about.

South Limburg is the southernmost province of the Netherlands and is distinguished by having real hills of the rolling, gorgeous and unexpectedly scenic variety. I have to say this was a complete surprise to me because although I've been to Maastricht a few times, I've never explored the countryside to the east of the Maas river there. Mostly, when you speak to Dutch people, they will tell you the Netherlands is completely flat except for 'a couple of hills' in Limburg. I took them at their word and had no idea I would be driving through rural scenery that would equal the prettiness of England's Devon or Belgium's Wallonia. What a delight it was, and worth every metre of the additional 130 kms each way that we had  to drive so as to avoid going through Belgium. 

The black line is the obvious route; the blue
line is (more or less) what we had to do

From the crumbly cottage in Zeeland's southernmost point, the direct route to Limburg is straight across Belgium from Antwerp. However, Belgium is currently off-limits, so we had to drive north to Breda and then east to Eindhoven before going south to Maastricht. Valkenburg is to the east of Maastricht. This meant that instead of a 140 km drive, it was 270 kms – each way. We took it gently, though, and shared the driving. The weather was beautiful too, which was a blessing, and the whole trip was just the tonic I needed.

The Wilhelminatoren

Valkenburg from the Wilhelminatoren

Valkenburg was originally the stronghold of a family of the same name. It is the only castle in the Netherlands built on a hill (now there's a surprise, I hear you say), and even then is only on the foothill of the real thing, the top of which is where I took the photos above. The castle began life in the 12th century and went through several stages of building in the following centuries, mostly due to being sacked by marauding invaders and then rebuilt. However, its final demise as a complete fortification occurred in 1672, when the French King Louis the 14th conducted a long and devastating siege of Maastricht, using Valkenburg Castle as an outpost for fighting. Eventually William III of the Netherlands retaliated by destroying the castle to such a degree it would never be rebuilt. For the next few hundred years, the castle ruins were neglected, until in the early 20th century a foundation was set up to preserve them and keep them safe for future generations.  I must admit I found it really impressive to look up at it from the city and to walk around its perimeter walls, but from the top of Heunsberg Hill, it looks positively small. The Wilhelminatoren, however, which you can see in the first photo, looks impressive from any angle. It is a much later addition. You can read about it here with Google Translate's help :)

The castle looks impressive from the town

Beautiful, but not Dutch as we know it

The river Geul

Valkenburg is a very pretty town, completely unlike anything you would expect in the Netherlands and with none of the influences that grace Amsterdam, Utrecht and all the other beautiful Dutch cities. It is very much its own place, as is Maastricht, and I had a powerful feeling of being in another country completely. What with the hills, the panoramic vistas, the limestone buildings and more Belgian or even French architecture, it was hard to believe we were still in the Netherlands.

Our visit was a short one, but one thing we both wanted to do while we were there was visit the 'Drielandenpunt' some 22kms away. It's the point where Germany, Belgium and the Netherlands all come together at the top of the Vaalseberg, the highest point in the Netherlands and a hefty 322.5 metres above sea level. At this one point, you can straddle three countries without moving.

Drielandenpunt. B is for Belgium. At the back it's Germany
and to the left is the Netherlands.

A German barrel organist

And as if to underscore its international flavour, the barrel organist above was German. I think he was actually standing in the Netherlands although I'm not completely sure, but that's the beauty of this place. It doesn't matter.

And for those who remember a post I did a while back about Belgium's border markers, this is number 1 that Koos is leaning against, the first in the series of 369 that were placed over a border length of 458kms. In fact, Koos marks the spot.

While I'm on the subject of superlatives, I'm sure readers here know by now that we cannot stay away from the water and boats for long, so on our way home we stopped at Maasbracht to look at the Netherland's deepest lock, which is found on the Juliana Canal that runs parallel to the Maas. I should say that most locks in the country reflect the flatness of the landscape and are rarely more than a couple of metres deep. The fall on this one is almost 12 metres, which is impressive by anyone's standards. We just struck lucky when we saw this container barge coming in and had to watch the whole process, of course.

The container barge arriving

At the bottom

Starting her exit

Squeaking out under the road bridge

And off she goes, south into Belgium

Back home again, it's been a stormy week. The weather broke on Tuesday and by Thursday, the winds were howling. We had to go to Terneuzen, so we took a walk along the estuary of the Westerschelde. It's hard to tell from the photos below, but the wind was so strong I had trouble keeping to my feet. I think you can just see the white caps on the water.

The boats below were in the safety of the harbours. The blue one was dredging, which was interesting to watch. It doesn't matter what the weather's doing, work must go on!

It is odd to think we are now at the opposite end of the Nethelands. In fact, the last Belgian border marker (No. 369) isn't all too far from where we are now, and yet the country we are so close to is so far away at the moment. I do so hope we can cross that border again before too long. Belgium is very much a second home to me and I miss it. 

Have a good weekend, allemaal. 

Tankers, ships, barges and tugs

These last twelve months have been incredibly difficult for us all and it's not over yet, it seems. As readers of this blog will know, though, my sanity (such as it is) has been saved by being able to spend time on my barge and also on our Hennie H. We haven't been anywhere by boat since 2018 due to the Hennie H's engine problems and we're still going through plenty of ups and downs where that's concerned. However, being able to be on board the Vereeniging, do jobs on both boats and make plans has been a blessing.

The other thing that's kept me going is my daily walk. I always take a camera with me, even if it's just my (not very good) phone, and I often walk along the sea canal, always in the hopes I'll see some of the big boys going past. Well, yesterday I hit the jackpot. I was just walking over the bridge when I noticed a queue of six vessels waiting for it to open for them. I have never seen so many, and the odd thing was that they were all lying still, hovering (if ships can do that). There must have been some kind of glitch with the opening mechanisms as they are rarely required to wait. But when I was halfway across the bridge, the bell rang and the booms came down. I'd have loved to get a better full on view of the ships from the centre of the span but I had to hotfoot it to the other side. Even then, I had to climb under the boom to escape, so I ran down to the water side to take these photos. 

Aren't they a fantastic sight? I feel so privileged to see these huge craft come past so often. It's soul-stirring stuff.

I love these muscular tugboats

What a sight to see. These ships are massive

When the sun catches their superstructure: beautiful

The last two of the group approaching the bridge

I love this vivid colour

Heading for Ghent

On a smaller scale, one of the harbours adjacent to the canal is home to these historic barges. I know I've taken and shown photos of them before, but I never tire of seeing them.

The historic harbour, known here as the Nostalgic Harbour

Such beautiful examples of old Dutch barges

And then, these are some pretty views from the town next to the canal, Sas van Gent. At one time it was fortified as many of these border towns were, and there are still many places where the fortifications have been preserved. Hulst is one of the prettiest examples, but it is further to the east. The fortifications at Sas van Gent were demolished when the canal was increased in size as it cut a swathe through the built-up area. In fact, the historic barges are in what remains of the second version of the canal, while this little bridge below is over a harbour that was the original canal to Ghent. 

Classic Dutch design

Sas van Gent is so named because it was where the 'sas' (an old word for a lock) into Belgium and Ghent was situated. There is now no lock here as the huge sea locks in Terneuzen have replaced it, but you can still see the former sas at the end of the historic harbour. I find it a pity that the constant widening of the canal has meant that Sas van Gent has lost much of its charm, but it still has some pretty parts. The bridge above (and below) and the quayside are lovely.

The old charm of Sas van Gent on the quayside

That bridge again

 As you can see, I have no shortage of beautiful walks and there's plenty of eye candy for a boat lover like me. The huge ships on the canal are breathtaking, but there are so many other boats, barges and tugs to look at too. In that sense I know we are very fortunate and I value these sights, as well as the open spaces we have around us with our extensive nature reserves.

Lockdown is tiresome and tedious; I miss the contact and interaction I used to have with my students terribly, but at least I have work and we have all this too. Many people have neither and I really feel desperately sorry for them. When I look at it this way and see how rich my surroundings are, my life could be a lot worse, couldn't it? 

Enjoy the rest of your week, allemaal. 

The wonderful support of We Love Memoirs

This week's post is a bit of a departure for me. I don't normally write about my books or even the books I've read. My review blog is for those and I prefer to keep this one about life here in the Netherlands, my boating world and our various travels.

This week, though, I want to pay tribute to a group on Facebook without which I wouldn't have half the readers I do have either for my blog or for my books. That group is We Love Memoirs founded by Victoria Twead and Alan Parks, two memoir writers who brilliantly saw the opportunity to start a community on social media for both readers and authors to get together. From this group alone, I have gained many, many lovely friends across the world just by being a member of a community where reading is the glue that binds us. I've also 'met' dozens of brilliant authors, some of whom have also become dear friends in real life.

I can't remember exactly how long I've been a member of We Love Memoirs – it's been several years now – but I have to say it's my favourite corner of Facebook. In fact, it provides everything I personally want from social media: likeminded people in terms of both readers and authors, and a wonderful platform on which to share stories, photos, reviews and events. I get most of my reading recommendations from WLM, not to mention numerous free books from promotions, competitions and giveaways.

The other thing I love about the group is that it's strictly non-political and non-denominational, so the discussions are all completely without any rancour; exactly, to my mind, what the 'social' part of social media means.

We Love Memoirs is, for me, the perfect example of what a well run group should be. It has getting on for 6000 members, and because of that, there are numerous moderators, all of whom seem to have special focuses. They are amazing, they really are. They don't only make sure the posts members put up conform to the group's rules; they organise daily features, competitions and promotions, all of which must take a huge amount of time and dedication, and guiding them all is the endlessly inspiring Victoria Twead. 

For those of you who've never read much in the way of memoir, I was amazed to discover the wide range of genres that fall within this umbrella: everything from lighthearted travelogues to inspirational accounts of people overcoming the most appalling difficulties. There really is an enormous selection of possible books to choose from. My Kindle is positively bulging with all the books I've bought, won and found through the various recommendations, games and links on the group's page. 

In this lockdown time, especially, I think WLM has been a huge boon to me and so many of the members there, and so I just wanted to say thank you to We Love Memoirs, to Victoria and Alan for founding it, and to all the marvellous moderators, members and authors for making it the truly great group that it is.

And as if you haven't already noticed, the link to the group is here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/welovememoirs 😁

Many of my friends say it's their happy place on the Internet, and I agree with them. Come along and make it yours too!

Enjoy the rest of your week allemaal.

My Crazy Life Full With Books: Author in the picture: Valerie Poore

An interim post. I really enjoyed answering these questions on Kathleen vam Lierop’s blog!

My Crazy Life Full With Books: Author in the picture: Valerie Poore: Valerie Poore is the lovely author of many books mostly wonderful memoirs such as Waloon Ways (about Belgium), Faring to France on a Shoe, A...

Dutch winter play

 I'm not going to write much today (I hear you all sigh with relief) because this week, I think the photos and film clips will simply speak for themselves.

As portented (is that a verb?) last weekend when it snowed so heavily, we were subsequently hit with a week long period of intense cold. The upside (if such there can be) was that the sun came out as the temperatures dropped and even I can admit the scenery looked very beautiful. But what was even lovelier was that as the big freeze went on, ponds, canals and even large lakes froze up all over the country. 

As the night time temperatures plummeted to -10C and below nationwide, the Dutch dug out their skates and gleefully dusted them off. It's been several years since there's been a freeze prolonged enough for skating on natural ice. Locally, we saw it back in 2017, but I think the last big one was in 2012. Of course, everyone gets excited about the possibility of an Elfstedentocht, that famous Dutch marathon on ice that passes through 11 towns in Friesland, but sadly, it wasn't freezing for quite long enough this year. That apart, last Friday, Saturday and Sunday, saw the Dutch glorying in their favourite winter sport, and it really was a joy to see despite the breathtaking cold. Below are my own photos taken of the nature reserve ponds not far from the crumbly cottage.

It was such a delight to see whole families out on their skates with tiny tots as well as grannies and grandpas too. As for the teenagers and young adults, I could see how at home they were on the ice, spinning along as if they were born to it – which I suppose they were, really. I've only ever tried skating once, I must admit. However, since I spent more time on my backside than on my feet, I decided I was better suited to a sledge, preferably on flat ground and pulled by several strong huskies!

Anyway, I sadly no longer know how to embed a video here from anywhere other than YouTube, but the one in this link is well worth a look. It's from the Dutch news site NOS and I think it's quite magical. It shows how throughout the Netherlands, happy Dutch people took to the ice in vast numbers to enjoy a mini holiday from Covid and all the other cares that have come with it. I hope you enjoy it too. And if you want another look (I find it so compelling) here's another video I found on YouTube.

By Sunday afternoon, it was all over, though. The thaw had set in and Ice Skating clubs were warning people to get off the canals and go home. As for accidents? Sure, some people took a dunking when they literally skated on thin ice; others fell and had various bumps and bruises, but no one was seriously hurt as far as I know. The vast majority of people enjoyed the break from everything and just had good, old-fashioned, joyous fun. Today, we're back to the usual: grey, wet and gloomy, with +5C, but what a lovely weekend it was. 

Oops, sorry! I seem to have written a lot anyway. I can't be helped...

Enjoy the rest of your week allemaal and I'll be back with more sundry news and views soon!

And so came the snow

I'm shivering in my timbers here in the flatlands this week. You all know how much I loathe the cold and the snow, don't you? Well, it's really come to get me this week. 

Last night we were supposed to have had a blizzard, but  (to my relief) it didn't really materialise in our part of the world. However, it did snow quite substantially. Here's a photo of my Vereeniging in her new, fluffy white coat.

Apparently, it will snow again tomorrow, but then it will simply freeze for a few days and won't even make zero centigrade until next Saturday. Fortunately (or not) I have now escaped to Zeeland where it is a) a couple of degrees warmer and b) easier to manage than skating over a frozen foredeck and negotiating a snowy (and long) gangplank before leaving my own premises. However, I hope I can get back again before it all thaws as I'm very anxious about frozen pipes and pumps. Since being a master worrier is my most advanced skill, I can dream up worst case scenarios that none of you would never have thought possible (oh yes, I can do that and more). So, I shall be distinctly uneasy until I can check on my lovely barge's bits in person.

I did my best to prepare for the big freeze by unplugging the water pump, emptying all the pipes, emptying the cistern in the loo and leaving an electric anti-frost thingy on. Then I wrapped my water pump in a quilted cover and any exposed pipes and stopcocks are swaddled in disposable nappies and towels. Now, I can only hope for the best and say a few prayers to the water gods. We don't often get prolonged cold spells, so I sincerely hope this won't be one of them.

For the time being, I'm still trying to get out and walk but today's efforts were a bit feeble. All the same, I captured a few photos just to prove we have snow here as well (and that I went out in it!). I must say, though, I'm very impressed with our municipality. They always manage to salt the roads to make sure everyone can get out if need be. I did a bit of salting myself in front of the crumbly cottage but mine was table salt and not the real stuff. I'm proud to say it worked a treat and our pavement is completely clear. I can imagine it looked funny to see me there with our salt pot, but hey...whatever works!

Have a good week allemaal, wherever you are. Tomorrow, we shall have to go and check on the Hennie H...boats! Who'd have them? 

And so it gets colder

As often happens in this country, real winter only begins late in January and sometimes not until February. Well today, I can confirm we have real winter. Actually, it started yesterday when I walked around the harbour here and I became suddenly, horrifyingly aware it was snowing...yuk! The wind was biting, so I scurried home as fast as I could get there. It carried on snowing for a while, but then turned to rain. Phew, I thought. What a relief! I'm sure you all know how I feel about snow by now. My distaste is so great I won't even 'like' photos people post on Facebook with snow on them unless there's blue sky there too. Yes, sorry, but I am that petty. 

Anyway, this morning, the sky had cleared and there was even some sunshine for a while, but by the time I wanted to go for a walk again, everything had turned grey and wow was it bitter?! Koos and I agreed it was the coldest day of the year so far. We differed in our reactions, though. He likes snow and welcomes it. I don't. Of course. Even so, we had a nice wander along one of the side branches of the canal nearby but I have to admit it was a bit bleak and bone rattling.

It was good to take a walk, however. I have to tell myself so because I know staying inside doesn't suit me at all. I have a tendency to suffer from winter blues (SAD) and struggled with it throughout my youth although I didn't know what it was at the time. When it miraculously disappeared during my South Africa years, the penny dropped. So now I'm back in northern Europe, I have to get as much daylight into my system as possible to avoid the glooms. Having the incentive to get out and about was much easier when we had a dog I have to say. These days I need to encourage myself with promises of rewards when I get home. Next thing I'll be buying myself balls to chase...

Before I get carried away, though, I thought I'd post a photo of this abandoned farmhouse. It is all that's left after the area was taken over for industry and glass houses. Such a shame, really. Below it, I've posted a couple of photos of similar houses in a village quite close to this where the houses have been renovated and are now lived in. They are gorgeous and I wonder what the future of this dilapidated old place might be. It would be lovely if someone could rescue it before it collapses, but I doubt if it will happen. I always feel a sense of loss when I see the homes and farm buildings that have been vacated in areas taken over by 'development.' It's as if the dignity has been stripped from them; homeless homes, so to speak.

Abandoned farmhouse and barn

I love the garden of this house. It's a lovely place

This one used to look very sad, but it's quite pristine now 
and look at the beautifully rebuilt barns behind it. Someone's
saved it and made a huge investment here

Back to reality, tomorrow I'm starting two big online courses and then another one next week, so I'll be very busy again for a couple of months. I hope I'll be able to keep up my daily walks and my blog, and with a bit of luck there'll be more canals, boats and rural scenes on this page in the coming weeks. I'll do my best anyway but if you see an empty space for a while, I hope you'll be patient until I can get going again.

Have a good one allemaal.  Here's one final photo that I took on my Friday walk, which I rather like. Keep well and keep warm!