Marcel! Marcel!

I accidentally went to a birthday party this evening.

Last night I ate something that did not work in my tummy at all.  I was awake until 5 this morning trying to deal with the disagreeable foods so I skipped breakfast and lunch, took naps, and read a bit.  By 8:00 tonight I was finally hungry again and felt well enough to go look for some food.  I decided it was a good night to go to my favorite restaurant.  It has food I understand and it’s close to the hotel.

When I got there, I could see that there were exciting things going on.  Parts of the restaurant were closed off, there was a little stage set up, food and drinks were available in the bar, and lots of people were being organized in the closed area. 

Marcel is a first year university student who works part time in the restaurant as a dishwasher.  Today he turned 18 so his Dad organized a party in his honor.  He is very cute and very shy and obviously well loved by his family and friends.  There were some 50 people there to wish him well and they pulled me in to sing and dance to an amazing birthday song full of “hurrah”s and “Marcel”s and shouts and laughs.   It was great fun and I enjoyed the man who used the stage for a birthday show and encouraged everyone to sing along with him as he did a little song about the birthday boy.  I unfortunately didn’t understand enough to get the jokes but still enjoyed singing the syllables I could mimic and shouting Marcel! at the appropriate moments. 

A little singing and dancing, a little food and a little wine and then back to the hotel for a little nap.  Life is good.

Dad and Mom

One thing I’ve noticed in these travels is that the Dutch don’t smile as much as people in the US.  It’s not that they are angry or sad or dour; they just save their smile for an appropriate occasion, unlike the Americans who smile just because we have walked into a room or have made eye contact with a stranger.  The people of Leeuwarden do have a sense of humor as witness this particular joke, which is masterful, if a bit esoteric.

This portrait from the studio of Michiel Jansz Van Miereveld (1567-1641) shows Willem Ludwijk, Count of Nassau-Dillenburg (1560-1620). 

This statue of Willem Ludwijk van Nassau in Leeuwarden is known as “Us Heit” or “Our Father”.  He was known by this nickname throughout the Netherlands after becoming one of the most prominent Dutch heroes during the Revolt of the Netherlands against Spain. He served in the cavalry under William of Orange, and was largely responsible for developing the successful military strategy that led to the defeat of the Spanish Habsburgs. 

The Frisian Cattle Syndicate commissioned this statue of the perfect Frisian cow, an animal renowned throughout Europe for milk with a high fat content and perfect taste.    Leeuwarden has historically been the center of the Frisian cattle industry and the statue has been given a place of honor not far from the statue of Willem van Nassau.  Over the years, the little joke developed and the people of Leeuwarden now call the cow statue “Us Mem” or “Our Mother”.  

Caught in the Rain

For two days, it has rained and stormed and rained.  Lightning, thunder, dark clouds, wind.  So I was stuck in my room for most of the time for two days straight. 

When I saw sunshine yesterday, I was more than happy to grab the map I had drawn for a 4-mile walk through Leeuwarden to find some of the more out-of-the way spots I wanted to explore.  Everything was going well until two things happened about the same time.  The rain returned and I realized that I had made a wrong turn and had gone a mile or more in the absolutely wrong direction.  There was nothing to do but trudge back the way I had come and then correct the wrong turn I had made and struggle on home to my hotel.  This was now a six mile hike and the rain was landing on my nose.  I had my trusty new Ralph Lauren hoodie which for some reason does repel rain a bit so I wasn't totally uncomfortable.  But six miles is really too far for my poor old body so I'm exploring by internet today.  Which is fine because it is again a stormy day.

It isn't hard to get lost in Leeuwarden.  The main part of the city is built in a circle and there are rings throughout the city to route traffic into the several streets leading to the ring.  The streets are not always marked with a sign and it's possible to go several blocks before realizing you are not on the street you thought you were on.  Using a particular street is also dependent upon there being a bridge across the many canals and several bridges are under construction right now with detours to the next bridge necessary.  The street names are challenging and also change frequently for no good reason so the directions from Mapquest can look something like this:

Turn left on Zuiderplein
Zuiderplein becomes Zuidergrachswal
Turn Left
Turn slight Right onto Nieuweweg
Take a slight right onto Keizergracht
Turn left onto Oosterkade
Oosterkade becomes Niewekade
Niewekad becomes Amlandshof
Turn right onto Bonifatiusplein

I completed that walk and the only street sign along the way was the one for Nieuweweg.

On the other hand, there are wonderful street signs available such as this one:

And there are lots of maps posted in big plastic cases that look like the ones in the mall that say You Are Here.

The picture also shows an ad for Meekema Beerenburg.  Berenburg is a local liquor that is highly regulated.  Only a few distilleries are permitted to use the term Berenburg, but there are some pretenders who call their brew Berinbourg and Borenburg or in ths case Beerenburg.  It is a grain vodka mixed with herbs that give it the flavors of citrus, lavender, rosemary, cedar and juniper.  The resulting taste causes some confusion and the liquor is often assumed to be gin rather than vodka.  It's said to be an acquired taste but I thought my Sonnema Berenberg, one of the original distillers, quite delicious when I used one of those miniature bottles from my hotel minibar to ward off any evil effects from being caught in the rain.

Breathing Again

I’m always amazed that I don’t know I’m holding my breath until I breathe.

James met for the first time with his oncologist this week and it is the last time they will need to meet.  The diagnosis has been officially changed to stage one colon cancer, the surgery totally removed the cancer, there will be no need for chemotherapy, there is no need for any additional treatment, and there is no need for follow-up with the oncologist.  James will do his regular checkups with his primary care physician and the only thing added to his usual regimen is an annual colonoscopy.

The reason for this good outcome is of course early detection.  James has always been good about responding to the signals from his body and consulting with his doctor if something is amiss.  He is urging all of his friends to have the tests done that our primary care physicians are always recommending but we might put off because we’re busy.  I'll join him in urging everyone to make sure that any cancers lurking in our bodies get detected early.

I felt the greatest relief when I got the news about James’ visit to the oncologist.  On an intellectual level, I already knew that the evidence indicated that he was going to be fine.  But those worries that mothers carry around in their emotions had been keeping me awake at night and had been skittering around during the day.  The stress was definitely affecting me, although I had no idea that was true until the stress was no longer there.  I’ve had good sleep for the past two nights.  And I’m breathing again.

The Language Tax

This morning I chatted with the room maid, the young man from Vietnam who is so funny and cheerful. He was full of stories because he had walked and walked in the recent sunshine and it made him very happy. And then one of my hotel favorites, a tall brash young woman who is pretty and sunny, came to refill the minibar and we chatted about the book and how my research was getting on. I went downstairs to the main desk to deliver my laundry and the 20-something young woman inquired about my recent visit to the Frysk Museum and whether I had seen the WWII Jewish wing. I went back up to my room and was happily writing away in the sunshine and fresh breezes coming through the open door that connects to my balcony. A young man appeared on my balcony (!) carrying hoses and squeegees. Being a Mensan, I knew immediately that he was there to wash the windows so I asked if he wanted me to close the door. He laughed and suggested that closing the door would indeed be a good idea since he was about to spray it with water and soap. He and I giggled together as he helped me move the balcony furniture and close the door. Then I went over to the money exchange booth at the train station and the young man there helped me find the best nearby ATM. The store clerks at the drug store and the food shop helped me find what I needed today. The waitress at the sidewalk café apologized for greeting me in Dutch and I protested that it was her country and her language. She said, "No, no, my colleague told me you were English and I just forgot when I got to your table. I don’t like to make mistakes like that."

So there we have it. Two hotel maids, a desk clerk, a window washer, a travel assistant, two store clerks and a café waitress were all perfectly able to communicate with me because they were bilingual and in some cases multilingual. And I was suddenly embarrassed by my linguistic arrogance. I am a privileged visitor in this country and can only function because everyone around me has made an effort to learn a language and I haven't.

So tonight I thought I would atone. I ordered dessert from a Dutch menu and didn't ask for any translation. I was pretty sure pears and cheese were the main ingredients and I love pears and I love cheese. And I was right. A great mound of pungent blue cheese came to the table, surrounded by small dices of canned pear, tiny greens, and a scoop of vanilla and pear ice cream on top. Each individual item was OK. Together the mixture was...interesting. And a bit...inedible. When James and Elaine were living in Paris, they would sometimes order a menu item that would turn out to be ... interesting and they called that the language tax -- the price you pay for failing to understand the language. So I paid the language tax tonight but I will continue to atone.

Tomorrw I will say goedemorgen and dag and dank u wel and I'll learn how to pronounce the menu items and what they mean. I'll start learning some basic words and phrases and I'll stop being so arrogant just because so many of these lovely people are better educated than I am.

Cool Things To Do With Cell Phones

I saw a woman walking down the street today speaking into her cell phone.  And realized she was the first person I had seen talking in public on a cell phone since I’ve been here.  I thought perhaps I just hadn’t been noticing so I kept looking for cell phone talkers.  After a few hours, I did see a gentleman sitting in the hotel lounge area and he was on his phone.  I thought back to the last few days in Virginia:  standing in line at Whole Foods with three or four conversations going on around me; going out to my car from Lord and Taylor and finding ten or so people walking toward me, all intent on their phone calls; the woman in the Dulles Airport who spoke loudly and incessantly for the 45 minutes I waited for my plane; the 50 or 60 phones that came out for final goodbyes as we were called to board.  I know the Netherlands is well-wired and most people have a cell phone.  They just don’t use their phone quite the way folks in the US do.  And they are a lot less annoying.

I talked to both of my sons today on the phone.  James discovered that he could download a Skype application to his Android and he could call my computer on Skype.  I can also call his Skype Android app and even leave messages on his phone if he isn’t available.  I e-mailed Justin with the news and he quickly downloaded the same app and we talked as well.  I can of course call any phone number from my computer Skype account but the charges, while more reasonable than many companies, are still pricey for international calls.  Skype to Skype on the other hand is free.  So my boys and I chatted away without having to count the pennies and we had a great time.

To be perfectly clear, Skype to Skype is free for now.  I read today that Skype is being acquired by Microsoft so I’m not sure how much longer we can expect free calls.

Heat Wave

Have you noticed that the photos I've posted all seem to have grey skies and flat light? It's not a problem with the camera or the photographer; it's a problem with the sky, which is grey a lot more often than blue. It's usually cool and overcast and the local joke is that when the temperature hits 72 degrees Fahrenheit that a heat wave is in progress. It happened today.

The person who cleans my room is not the same person every day but often is a young man from Vietnam who chatters happily as he plumps pillows and cleans every surface of the room. He was quite giddy about the weather and really thrilled that it was so warm and sunny today. He said he was hurrying through his work so he could go walking in the sunshine. He kept insisting, "I know you want to write your book, but you must go out and play in the warmth. Walk! Walk! There is sunshine everywhere!"

The temperature has been in the 50s and 60s ever since I got here and this, they tell me, is quite typical for August near the North Sea. There’s a little sun during the day, there are lots of clouds during the day, and most days it rains a bit. There is air conditioning in the hotel but I don't use it. I do use the duvet at night though. It’s really been very pleasant and I got a little uncomfortable this afternoon during my walk in the 72 degrees with the sun shining on my back. Thinking back to the 100 degree Washington DC summer we endured this year makes me wonder how in the world 72 degrees can be uncomfortably warm.

I've eaten my meals at the outdoor cafes almost every day. A couple of times it's been too chilly or too wet to stay outside but usualy it's perfect weather for a breakfast or dinner al fresco. I’m usually glad for the long sleeved shirts and the sweaters and light jackets I brought along with me. I have couple of items that were great for a US summer but really would be inappropriate here so they are back in the suitcase until I leave. I thought about getting that short-sleeved red sweater out today, though, just for this 72-degree heat wave.

Leggings

Leeuwarden is like most cities of 100,000 or so.  Cosmopolitan enough to support restaurants and theaters and antique shops.  Small enough that the cab drivers know where everything is.  I’m sure there must be a “bad part” of town but I haven’t seen a slum nor anything else to indicate that poverty or crime is a major factor in the life of the city.  There’s a young man at the train station, very clean and nicely dressed, who appears to be mentally ill and asks for money.  But there are also hundreds of bicycles parked at the station every day and only a handful of them use bike locks.

Lots and lots of tall white people live here.  I notice when I encounter someone of African or Asian descent; I don’t notice national origin in a more diverse community.  The tall white people come in all sorts of ages and shapes and physical attributes.  If they are male, there is a 99% chance they will be wearing long pants.  If they are female, there is a 75% chance they will be wearing leggings.  Knee length or calf length or ankle length leggings.  Sometimes black but more often made of that ugly thin off-white stretchy clingy cotton that looks like old fashioned long underwear.  The leggings will often be paired with a polyester tunic in a garish print, long enough to be worn as a dress.  Skin tight leggings aren't all that attractive on young girls and on older heftier women, it's an abomination.  Sorry that I haven’t been able to sound neutral about this fashion but I didn’t even try very hard to be fair.

As a university center, Leeuwarden has a fair share of students and I love seeing them and their youth and energy and love of life.  I’ve had coffee a couple of times at a café/bar that attracts university students.  It’s not so much that I need the coffee but I do need to hear the laughter of young people and I go away refreshed.  Besides, the university girls tend to avoid leggings.

Walking for Food

I’ve had some unfortunate food in the short time I’ve been here…overcooked beef, and undercooked bacon (including a pasta salad with RAW bacon), and a strange cheeseburger that tasted like sausage with curry, and pasta cooked to a mush.  But I have it figured out now.  My breakfast buffet is included with my room rate at the hotel and it is amazingly hearty, which it should be since it would cost $25 if I had to pay for it.  Beautiful breads and several kinds of meats and cheese and eggs and yogurt and fruit and juices, including strawberry juice and mango juice, and a variety of coffees.  My favorite waiter is introducing me to the best varieties of each item, especially the coffee, which he personally prepares for me each morning, a double espresso with whipped cream and brown sugar.  So I indulge myself in a protein-rich breakfast, caffeinate myself, and take a couple of pieces of fruit with me, usually a pear and a tangerine.  The fruit goes into the minibar fridge in my room where I also keep some items from the train station convenience store – small baskets of beautiful tiny strawberries and excellent cashews.  I eat the fruit and nuts during the day and as a snack in the evening so the only meal I need to purchase in a restaurant is dinner.  I’ve tried a few dinner locations and it’s pretty hit or miss and sometimes ridiculously expensive.  The only rule is that I must walk to dinner, wherever it might be.  This is my favorite restaurant so far. 

The Grand Café Wouters is actually right around the corner from the hotel and I’ve had two quite good meals there…a mixed grill of chicken, filet and beef and tonight’s salmon on a bed of tagliatelle with a white mushroom sauce, spinach and carmelized onions.  The food was quite tasty and so plentiful I couldn’t finish either dish.  Too bad there is no such a thing as a doggy bag in the Netherlands.  I also enjoyed the Tao restaurant near the hotel.  It is a sushi and tapas bar and has an interesting custom.  For a fixed price, you may order five items at a time and you may order as many times as you wish -- all you can eat -- but you must finish every bite of your food.  Any food left on the plate will be charged a sizeable penalty on your final bill.

I’m trying to walk at least one mile every day and I’ve now found my favorite walk that runs along a row of shops

Then next to a canal and the funny little ‘t Pannekoekschip restaurant situated on a boat in the canal.

Past the park across from my hotel.

Past the beautiful old house.

Then across the street from the Train Station

And back to the hotel for a coffee and research or writing or reading.  I’m loving my life.

No Walking Today, Just Gravestones

Yesterday I was feeling quite wonderful and spent some time exploring Leeuwarden on foot, walking about five miles in the process.  Yes, I know that isn't very far and many of you walk that far just to get to work every morning.  But this is after all an adventure for someone of advancing age and I've spent most of my life sitting in front of a computer.  And I felt those five miles in every muscle and every bone and every fiber this morning.

So it was a good day to move the computer onto the balcony and enjoy the sunshine and look for graveyards.  I've begun planning the road trip I'll take at the end of the month and I was hoping to identify the final resting places of the many ancestors I've identified over the years.  I already knew that the cemeteries in Twyzel contain the graves of many of our ancestors from the Sipkema, Hulshof, and Kloosterman families as we found when we visited several years ago. 

Jimmy is now 16 so you can see how long ago this was taken.

I ran into some difficulty when I went looking for the DeHaan family.  I found that the cemeteries in those villages rarely contained anyone who had died later than the mid-20th century.

You may know that in the Netherlands, land has literally been created from the sea and every inch is used for a purpose, habitation or crops or pasturage.  In order not to waste space on cemeteries, it is customary in many locations for Dutch graves to be rented, and reused after the rental period expires. Headstones and other monuments are destroyed, and human remains removed and often reburied in an anonymous mass grave.  When searching for the Evers ancestors some years ago, we were taken to the village church and given the opportunity to search the church floor, which had been created from the old headstones of the graveyard behind the church. 

I find this custom a little unsettling.  It's practical, I know, but still a little unsettling.

The Archives and de Oldhoven

Today was a fun day.  I spent several hours at the Leeuwarden city historic archives and at TRESOAR where the records of Friesland are housed.  I was tracking down a mysterious notation in the public records that seemed to indicate that one of my female ancestors had divorced her husband in 1845.  Turned out to be very true and I was able to obtain a copy of the original judgment.  I haven’t been able to do a full translation but the people at TRESOAR were wonderfully helpful and gave me a good feel for the juicy details of the judgment. 

Both the city and provincial archive buildings are in the very heart of medieval Leeuwarden and the old city buildings mix in with high rises in a delicious blend of old and new.

Leeuwarden is built around a series of canals and the boats vie with bicycles to be the transportation of choice.  In the historic district there are shops and cafes all along the canals. 

The archive buildings are right across the street from de Oldhoven, a medieval tower with a fun story. 

In the 9th Century a Catholic Church dedicated to Saint Vitus was built on a terp (artificial land mound) that would eventually become the city of Leeuwarden in Friesland, Netherlands. The church survived and in 1529 the citizens of Leeuwarden determined to build a tower for the church.  Now, the neighboring city of Groningen had just built a huge tower and the Leeuwarden folk demanded that the new church tower be even taller than the one in Groningen. During construction of the brick and Bentheim sandstone tower, it began to sag and the builders tried various ways to compensate. Unable to keep the tower upright, the project was abandoned in 1532 or 1533. In 1595 the church itself was demolished but the tower remains. It still sags and in fact now leans more than the Tower of Pisa.

When my son Justin spotted this story on Facebook, he wanted to know if the terp I mentioned had anything to do with the family name Terpstra.  So for those who never read the Terpstra family history and those who have forgotten some of the details (Justin!), I’m pulling up the story of the origin of the Terpstra family name. 

The people of Fryslan had never used surnames.  They had traditionally used a strict system of patronymics for naming their children.  A child’s name was paired with his or her father’s name and there were strict rules about the given name.  The first son was named after his paternal grandfather.  So if the father’s name were Gerrit and the grandfather’s name were Wybren, the first son would be named Wybren Gerrits.  The second son was named after his maternal grandfather.  The third son was named after his paternal great-grandfather.  The fourth son was named after his maternal great-grandfather.  Girls were named after their female ancestors using the same pattern.  Exceptions were made so that the names of babies who had died could be used for the next child of that gender.  Children whose mothers died in childbirth received her name regardless of gender.

Then in 1811 Napoleon ruled the Netherlands and he decreed that everyone had to have a surname.  The head of each family was required to travel to a designated city and register the new surname at city hall.  One of the branches of our family chose the surname “Terpstra”.  The “stra” ending of names is only found in Fryslan (and occasionally in Groningen) and means to originate from somewhere, in this case from the “terps”, the dwelling mounds that saved the Frysians from the rising sea.   

The ancestors of the Frysians colonized the coastal clay districts of current Fryslan and Groningen about 700 B.C.  In 500 B.C. the sea level began to rise, flooding was rampant, and the first terpbuilding period began.  A second terpbuilding period dated from 200 B.C. to 50 B.C.   In 250 A.D. the sea level rose so dramatically that it became impossible to continue living in the coastal areas.  People disappeared from the coastal lands and the area remained mostly uninhabited until 400 A.D. when the sea finally stopped rising.  A third terpgeneration dates from 700 A.D.

The terps were flat mounds built by our Iron Age ancestors on lands prone to flooding.  The terp was an artificial habitation platform on which they erected houses and in which they buried their dead.  Some terps were huge, large enough for several families.  When floods threatened the lands, the ancient Frysians crowded their livestock and perishable belongings onto the top of the terps.  

Flooding continued to be a life-threatening problem for the Frysians until the Middle Ages when an adequate system of dikes, canals and windmills was built.  The dikes kept the sea at bay and some terps were now miles from the waters.  The earth of the terps was very rich and some terps were leveled to provide soil for farmlands once covered by the sea.  

Terps were built throughout the coastal clay district, the prime land of the Netherlands; it was arable young land excellent for growing crops and raising food animals.  This was the first land to be inhabited in Fryslan and was the same land inhabited in 1811 by the newly-named Terpstra family.

A Practical Day

I can really tell that I’m older than the last time I traveled because it has taken me far longer to get past the jet lag.  Today was the first day that I kinda led a normal life and didn’t need naps to get through the morning.  We’re six hours ahead of EDT here so getting up at 8:00AM has been feeling as if I’m rising at 2:00AM.  Going to bed at midnight has been going to bed at 6:00 PM.  My body hated it.

Today I was awake before the alarm and hungry for breakfast.  Wrote straight through the morning until 2:00 when I decided it was time to handle practical matters such as getting more hangers for the closet, unpacking and rearranging the bags, sending the laundry out and handwashing the underwear.  The balcony is great – I can drape underwear over the chairs for drying and there’s nobody to be offended by my brightly striped underdrawers.  Perfect unless of course it rains – as it did today – and everything gets dripping wet all over again.

At the end of this month there is a huge all European dog show here in Leeuwarden and my hotel has been fully booked for months.  They told me about the problem when I was discussing a long term arrangement with them and they assured me they would make another hotel reservation for me.  Later I was thinking that I should have taken that time to travel around the countryside, taking photos of the villages where my ancestors lived and staying in Drachten or Dokkum for the 2-3 days I would be without my usual hotel.  So I wasn’t at all upset when the hotel apologetically told me that the best they could do was book me into a hotel about 20 miles from here – in Drachten where my DeHaan ancestors lived in the mid-1800s.  I think I’ll rent a car for that time and really visit the villages in the area.  I miss my car, by the way, and am finding it difficult to get around by public transportation, although that may be just another symptom of my general jet lag fatigue.

I can’t believe how much I love writing the novel.  The characters are just insisting on going their own way and I think they are just so much fun.  I find myself hoping the novel is never completed cuz I’ll miss my new friends.

A Writing Day

The plan was to research constantly during these first weeks and then settle in to write about what I had learned.  But I had so much fun yesterday at the Fries Museum that I ended up spending the entire day writing the first chapter of my novel.  The Museum is not that big and not that extensive for the period I have in mind -- mid 1800s -- but they had on exhibit a lovely selection of women's clothing for the time period and it allowed me to let my heroine Antje get dressed for her wedding.  I could do a lot of plot set up while she was putting on those undergarments and gold helmet. 

I had a great time finding out more about my characters as I wrote about them.   They are pretty well fleshed out in my mind but as I'm writing, they take off and do the most unexpectd things.   For instance, I found out I really like Antje's mother and I had always thought she was a rather weak character.  Imagine my surprise when she said and did things today that were really rather admirable.  Good for her!!

I was also surprised to find out that Antje loved to sew on the machine her father had given her for Christmas --  I didn't know until yesterday that she could even have access to one so it was only while I was writing that I discovered her talent.  It explains why her dress is so intricate even though she lives in a tiny country village.  This is the sewing machine I found in the museum:

It's exactly like Antje's sewing machine!  And looks a lot like an antique machine I once owned.

Here's what the fashionable women of the day were wearing:

The headress is my favorite part.  There were two muslin and lace caps worn close to the head to keep the hair covered.  Those were held in place with a gold helmet.  The gold was very fine and very thin and sat close to the head.  Over the gold helmet the woman would place a finely-meshed hood, intricately trimmed with lace and embroidery.  It was held to the gold helmet with two gold or silver clips.  The only other jewelry was a brooch worn at the neck.  I saw dozens of drawings and paintings and even photos of Frysk women from 1850-1900 and they all looked pretty much like this, unless they were royalty.  The royals felt confident with clothes cut down to here and cut up to there and they had no need for gold helmets.  None of my ancestors were royal and neither are the characters in my book so black dresses and golden helmets it is.

The  women wore a "filler" to pouf out the bottom of their skirts and a corset to pouf up their tops.  Made me think of Scarlett O'Hara.  "Tighter!  tighter!"

Sorry about the quality of these photos.  The items are all in cases and have lights shining on them and lights shining in from the windows everywhere.  I also had to be a little surreptitious about taking the photos.  Although there was no outright ban on photos and even though there were no guards around, I kept expecting a curator to pop out and scold me so I wasn't as careful as I might have been about setting up the photos.

Boerenjongens

My family in Indiana will appreciate this.  

The photo was taken in the Fries Museum in Leeuwarden and shows a series of silver punch bowls used throughout Friesland in the 19^th century.  These particular bowls are very rare and very ornate and belonged to the few remaining estate holders, a group of wealthy Fryslanders that moved from Fryslan to the Haag or whose families simply died out in the mid and late 1800’s.  Every Frysk family, no matter how rich or poor, had a silver punch bowl, however, that came out for special occasions.  I couldn’t understand why the punch bowls were so small; they couldn’t have held more than 2-3 cups of punch.  Then I read a little further and giggled with awe.  The punch bowls had been filled with raisins and the raisins had been covered in brandy and soaked for weeks before the party.  Guests used tiny spoons to scoop up the potent raisins during the celebration.  This is exactly what happened in my famiy’s homes in Indiana some 100 or so years later when the boerenjongens were brought out for Christmas celebrations.  I still prepare them sometimes.  So yummy.

Settling In

For the past eight weeks, I have been contacting leasing agencies and individuals, networking on linkdin and expatriate sites, and combing the internet for possible rooms or apartments to rent while I'm here in the Netherlands for book research.  It originally looked so easy as there were so many options to choose among.  As I narrowed the search, however, it turned out there were always problems -- I didn't meet age requrements (no one over 30 -- heh, I remember those days) was the most common problem.  I also got caught in a couple of scams -- just send the money by western union and then I'll save the apartment for you.  Hah.  I think not.

As a Plan B I decided to book a room in the most likely hotel I could find for five days, use that time to look for apartments, and then talk to the hotel about staying there for the duration at a reasonable rate.  I loved the Eden Oranje Hotel for its features and its convenience.  It has a nice restaurant with a lovely outdoor space although it's all a little too pricey for everyday use.  There are lots of comfortable couches in the lobby where people sit and chat and there are even toys for children carefully arranged around the room.  Lots of computers and lots of newspapers.  I decided quickly to talk to the manager about a longer term rental rate.  We worked out an arrangement today that took $50 off the daily room price and gave me free wi-fi and free breakfast.  That fits in my budget and means that I have easy access to all transportation since I am directly across the street from the train station that is the hub of all bus, taxi, train, and bicycle traffic in Leeuwarden and the outlying areas.  The train station also has a couple of restaurants and a couple of convenience stores, as well as a kiosk for changing currency.

My room is perfectly adequate with a kingsize bed, mini bar and fridge.

There is a desk, open storage unit, and a flat screen TV.  And the bathroom is huge by European standards and really quite large even by US standards with a full bathtub and shower, sink and toilet.  The room also has a small balcony (not much of a view unfortunately) perfect for coffee and even for the laptop.

So I've solved the immediate problems and I'm very happy and relieved to have a home here.

Adventure!

It has been coming on for some time – waking up in the middle of the night and needing an adventure.  Stuck in traffic trying to get to work and needing an adventure.  Sitting in front of my computer or TV and needing an adventure.

So it was a matter of selling and giving away the extraneous material possessions, packing up enough to get me through 3 months of travel, buying the tickets, making the reservations, and leaving.

LEAVING

Leaving was a bit of a problem.  As I was waiting for the big day, my son James was diagnosed with colon cancer and needed immediate surgery.  To compound the problem, my grandson Jimmy was scheduled for surgery to repair a chest cavity problem  at the same time and that surgery to take place in Norfolk could not be postponed.  Since Elaine could not be in both places at once and there were two little boys to consider, I opted to delay my flight by a couple of weeks and take care of James and Jack and Justin while Elaine handled Jimmy’s surgery in Norfolk.  Fortunately, James’ condition was detected early on, his cancer was confined to the tumor, and the tumor was successfully excised in the surgery.  He will probably need no additional treatment although that final decision will be in the hands of his oncologist.  Jimmy came through his surgery with flying colors and both guys were recuperating nicely by the time I left.  Elaine’s sister came in the day before I left so there was additional help for the family and I could leave -- comfortable in the knowledge that everyone was getting healthy and Elaine had some support as well.

ICELANDAIR

I decided to start my adventure with an unusual airline, and opted for Icelandair with a stop in Reykjavik.  The airline has a class called economy comfort with larger seats and additional leg space.  It’s more expensive than economy but is substantially less expensive than business class.  It allows for 2 free checked bags and 2 carry-on bags and gives free food, free drinks, free movies, and a pillow and blanket, all of which costs dearly in economy.  It also allows for early boarding and deplaning as well as access to the Icelandair lounges in each airport.  Because a flight earlier this year on another airline had left me feeling cramped, claustrophobic, and mightily uncomfortable, I opted for comfort and loved it.  Then I realized that comfort class was simply flying the way it used to be before the austerity measures moved in and airlines opted for profit over passenger comfort.

ICELAND.

There was a lot of cloud cover so I didn’t see much from the plane coming in nor did I see much at the airport itself. There was some clearing during the layover so I was able to get a small sense of the area as we departed.  It was a mysterious and fascinating blend of glaciers and turf and volcanoes and modern buildings and made me vow to change my ticket coming home so I can spend some time in the country before the final leg back to the states.  Oh, and when I arrived at the Reykjavik airport we had to go through security and customs again and I got my passport stamped!  In all my travels this is my first stamp.  None from France, Italy, Switzerland, or Belgium.  But I have a stamp now from Iceland!

THE TRAIN

Once I had collected my luggage and groaned that it was so bulky and unwieldy, I located the train station within Schiphol airport.  I used a kiosk, inserted my credit card, and received a ticket.  I couldn’t tell which of the six lines the train was on so I went to the seller of warm cokes and asked for help.  She looked at me as if I were a tragic case of not very bright and told me that the “ticket” was actually explaining that my credit card had been rejected.  She suggested going to the live ticket sellers across the way.  There the grumpy ticket seller impatiently rejected card after card insisting that he could only use one “with a chip”.  He also rejected my dollars and told me to go to the bank around the corner and get euros.  I had hoped to avoid getting euros in the states and at the airport because I remember getting a better exchange rate at ATMs outside the US and outside travel centers but the train ticket seller was pretty insistent so now I had to hope my credit cards without chips were going to work in that ATM.  Got the cash, got the ticket, was told to get on Train 3 in 10 minutes.  So I did.

NICE PEOPLE

The comforting thing was the sign at Schiphol told me the train was going to Leeuwarden and the announcer on the train speaking Dutch also mentioned Leeuwarden in every announcement.  The uncomfortable thing was that the list of stations at which we were to stop didn’t mention Leeuwarden.

The couple behind me took me in hand and explained that although I was on the correct train, I was  on the wrong portion of the train and this train was about to split in half with one section going to Groningen and one to Leeuwarden.  I was on the Groningen section.  They had watched me struggle in with my cumbersome luggage so they each grabbed a big bag and walked me through the rain and got me situated in a correct car.  It was a long wet walk and when I turned around to thank them, they were gone.  When I got to Leeuwarden, I was again struggling with the bags and a nice woman grabbed the 2 big bags and got them down the train steps and onto the platform for me.  She too disappeared into the crowd before I could get organized and thank her properly.

GOOD THOUGHTS

So for the three lovely people of the Netherlands who unselfishly helped a struggling stranger, please join me in thinking good thoughts for an unexpected and very happy event to occur in their lives.

THE HOTEL

The Eden Oranje Hotel is directly across the street from the train station, a stately old hotel with a pleasant outdoor café and rather nice rooms.  I’m going to try to work with the manager on a rate I can afford  throughout my visit here.  The room has a US style bathroom (yay), a flat screen TV, internet access, a good bed, and a balcony with table and chairs.  Not much of a view unfortunately but still a good place to drink coffee in the morning.

 Notice the white lines on the street (far left of the picture).  Those lines give absolute authority to pedestrians to step out on the street and walk across.  All cars will absolutely stop.  Not true for bicycles, however.  Bikes are the kings of the road and they will run you down.

FOOD

On my first night in the Netherlands, I pampered myself and went to the rather pricey hotel dining room.  I know better than to expect much of Dutch “cuisine” so I wasn’t disappointed, only amused, to find that the entrée selections were:  Fried hake, fried calves liver, pasta with deep fried cambazola (?) and roast pig.  I opted instead for a Caesar salad with a breast of chicken served with chips (French fries for dipping into mayonnaise) and hearty dark bread.  I was really hungry since I had only a croissant during a day of travel so the salad and chicken tasted especially good.

This morning I went downstairs for the breakfast buffet and was surprised to find scrambled eggs and bacon as well as a wonderful selection of breads and specialty croissants (including my favorite raisin croissants exactly the same as they sell at Whole foods), ham, cheese, roast beef and crusty rolls.  Lots of specialty coffees.  Loved my breakfast.

FIRST DAY

I’m going to stay quiet this morning.  I’m jet lagged and weary and my body needs some recuperation.   

I also stayed quiet for the afternoon.  And for the evening. I ventured out quickly for dinner in a new spot – menu full of fried fish with strange names and pasta with unknown ingredients.  Opted for an oriental salad with lots of good veggies and a nice stir-fried beef on top.  Then more sleep.

SECOND DAY

Started negotiations with my hotel for a long term stay.  Housing is very very tight here and my quick contacts with agencies did not go well.  The hotel on the other hand is eager to keep me here for the full term and I’m meeting with the manager and the sales manager tomorrow to see what we can work out.  In the meantime they’ve given me free internet and a complimentary breakfast.  The location is quite perfect.  All transportation units are directly across the street at the train station – intercity buses and local buses and taxis and trains and rental bicycles.  The hotel is in the heart of the city and there are dozens of restaurants and cafes and shops within walking distance.  The train station also has a couple of convenience shops for toothpaste and shampoo and cokes.  We’ll see what happens at the meeting tomorrow but I’m hopeful this will work out.

They are everywhere!!  This is the view at the train station.  The view is the same on all three sides.  Hundreds of bikes parked and awaiting their owners.
BICYCLES