Madrid for the Weekend

     It was the weekend before Christmas, classes were winding down for Christmas break, and it seemed like a good time to go somewhere really festive.  So we did!  Off to Madrid for a long weekend.  It’s only a two hour fight, and we  had come across some cheap tickets.  We had never been there before, so there was no excuse not to go.  We loaded up the carry-on bag, joined our friends David (in the same program at the University with Don) and his wife April, and scurried off to the airport.

Welcome to Madrid, Earthling!

     We arrived about 8:00 in the evening and, after a little confusion figuring out the metro connections, finally got on the right line to our hostel. We had gotten a really good price for the room, so I was a little concerned about the location, but when we emerged from the metro, we were greeted by a huge lively square filled with throngs of people, surrounded by stately ornate Spanish style buildings, decked out with an electric blaze of lights, and a 100 foot tall electronic Christmas tree.  We were in the middle of Plaza de la Puerta del Sol, Madrid’s version of Times Square, in the heart of the city.  Our Hostel was a block and a half away.

     Madrid is a very social and lively city, and the square only got busier as it grew later.  We checked into our room and decided to join the crowd and explore the city center.  Of course all the shops were open, so it wasn’t long before Veronica and April fell under the spell of the impressively inexpensive Spanish prices, and Boot-and-Purse Shopping Fever set in with a vengeance.  Much later, we made our way back to the hostel loaded down with goods. 

Plaza de Cibeles

     We had signed up for a “free” (tips please) walking tour of the city the next day, so we were up and out early.   Our tour guide, a bilingual grad student, was full of interesting historical and social facts, so we felt like we got a good feel for the city.  We started at the Plaza Mayor, a 17th Century Square surrounded by stunning grandiose facades, once the site of the condemnation of heretics during the Spanish Inquisition, then later the scene of spectacular bull fights. It is now filled with street vendor booths and tourists.  We wondered down the winding streets to the Chocolateria de San Ginés, famous for its chocolate con churros (churros dipped in melted chocolate). We spent the  next couple of hours going from plaza to plaza, past the original moorish city wall, the Iglesia de San Nicolás de los Servitas, the Palacio Real, and heard story after story.  It was delightful.  When our guide invited us back for a tapas bar tour that evening, we jumped at the chance. 

     Tapas, the Spanish custom of eating a variety of small sampler dishes with your drinks, is a uniquely Spanish experience.  There are many stories about how Tapas originated.  One says that medieval travelers often arrived in town with only enough money to buy either something to eat or something to drink, but not both.  Usually, they would opt for drink, and trouble would soon follow.  To prevent drunken rowdies, the government decreed that inns could only serve beer or wine with food, so the owners would place a slice of ham or cheese on top of the glass, like a lid (tapa).  This also conveniently kept dust and bugs out of the drink.

 Traditional Paella- Yummy!

     Fortunately, we didn’t have to worry about dust or bugs on our tapas tour.  We had a wonderful time in La Latina quarter going from tapas bar to tapas bar with our guide, sampling the various dishes, and sharing laughs and experiences with her.  The night life in Madrid starts to ramp up about 10:00, when groups of friends start accumulating at the various favorite watering holes, and often goes long and loud all the way through to the next morning.  Hemingway described it by saying that “nobody goes to bed in Madrid until they have killed the night.”  In our case, however, the night was winning, and we were back in our hostel shortly after midnight.

This baby needs a shave....

     The street performers in Madrid were undoubtedly the cleverest and most entertaining we have seen anywhere, including San Francisco. With unemployment currently hovering around 20%, they have a plentiful supply.  Of course, you have your standard selection of human statues and cartoon characters.  But you also have a wonderful variety of interactive street performers, including a magician worthy of any stage in Las Vegas, an invisible man with his hat and sunglasses suspended by a thin wire above his jacket, a clacking tinsel covered llama, and our favorite: the man-baby in a carriage.  His body is concealed beneath the carriage and his head pokes up into the carriage on top of the baby body with little movable arms.  He was engaging all the passerbys and flirting with all the women, and was totally hilarious. 

    Our final day was spent quietly at the world famous Museo del Prado (Prado Art  Museum).   It houses an impressive collection of Goya, El Greco, Rubens, Rembrandt, Dűrer, and others.  We returned home both culinarily and culturally enriched, and ready for our next adventure.

Veronica's new friend

Metropolis at Calle de Alcalá

April, Veronica, and David at the Puerta de Alcalá

The Clacking Llama (with person inside)

Dutch New Year's Traditions

     Holland on New Year’s Eve is no place for the faint of heart.  Just like the other holidays, they have their own quaint traditions unique to Hollanders, which for New Year’s, includes “Olliebollen” (literally “Oil balls”), a sort of deep fried (of course) ball of doughnut dough, frosted or sprinkled with powdered sugar, loaded with raisins or creme or whatever.  Its the kind of treat that would make Krispy Kreme proud, and should probably come with a coupon for two free defibrillations.  You can only get them for one month out of the year during Christmas season.  The stands start sprouting up right after Sinter Klaas avond (December 5) and go away shortly after New Years until next year.

The other quaint tradition they enjoy is legal fireworks, as in totally legal for anyone to own.  I don’t mean little whistling petes or ground flowers, we’re talking anything goes, no age limits.  As near as I could tell, there were no restrictions on the size or type, or if there were, nobody knew what they were.  One of our friends told us there was some kind of size limitation, but with so many kinds available on the internet, the limits are mostly unenforceable.  I wondered if maybe the Dutch were a little jealous  because they did not get to shoot off fireworks like us on the 4th of July, but I was not prepared for the magnitude of the fireworks display on New Year’s.  Although individuals are allowed to set off fireworks in Germany, Scandinavia, and Eastern Europe, the Dutch set off more fireworks per capita than anywhere else. It surpassed by far anything I had seen in the US.

It started with a few cracks about 10:00 in the morning on New Year’s Eve.  It quickly built to an on-going din, with the constant rattle of smaller ordinances echoing near and far throughout the city, sounding much like small arms fire, punctuated by an occasional huge window-rattling boom that would have triggered a red alert from Homeland Security at any other time.  Having just watched “Rise of the Planet of the Apes” the night before, I was sure the battle for Utrecht had just started.  No, our neighbor assured us, it was just young boys having fun.  Veronica, the constant mother, asked if perhaps young boys and big fireworks didn’t seem to him like a recipe for disaster?  He conceded that there was the occasional injury to the hands or eyes, but he remembered how much he had enjoyed the tradition when he was that age, so he assured us most people didn’t think it was a problem.   The typical easy-going Dutch attitude toward life in a nutshell, I thought.  “I got to play with unexploded ordinances when I was a kid, so my child should have the same opportunity.”

Sure enough, when we went out on the balcony to watch the live action, we saw groups of teenage and prepubescent boys walking around the neighborhood with their plastic grocery bags full of fireworks.  Some stopped to make elaborate piles of fireworks to set off, and others just casually tossed out lighted cherry bomb things as if they were hand grenades while they ambled around.  The noise was annoyingly constant throughout the day, but I have to admit I did not see any serious misbehaving of the type that American parents would fear most: throwing fireworks at each other, under cars, or putting them in planters, bottles, or small domestic house animals.  I can imagine that if groups of 12 year olds armed with unlimited supplies of recreational explosives were released on LA, half the city would be leveled by the end of the day.

Utrecht did somehow manage to survive until the kids’ bed time, and somewhere around 9 pm, the constant battle sounds began to subside.  The truce seemed to hold for the next three hours, and I thought the worst was past.  Then suddenly, at the stroke of midnight, the city erupted.  It was the adults turn now.  Across the city and the country, thousands were taking to the streets.  It was time for the skyrockets.  

Its one thing to go to a fireworks show where all the fireworks are going off in basically the same area.  Its quite another to see them going up all around you, near and far, 360 degrees, all across the horizon.  There probably was someone else besides us in Utrecht who hadn’t gone out and blown their entire food budget for the year on skyrockets, but you wouldn’t know it from our vantage point.  There is no public fireworks display- with all the private fireworks, there is no need.   On our street alone there were tons of rockets going off, some exploding right at roof level, and some going up 100 or 200 feet and exploding into huge patterns.  There were all types of ground and arial displays where ever you looked, down the street or across the town.  The spectacle continued non-stop for an hour before it finally started to slow down a little, and eventually became quiet again by 2:30.  It literally took hours for the smoke to clear.  The next morning the red paper debris left behind by the multitude of fireworks had been reduced by the early morning rain to a huge fields of red sludge.

With the fervor that the Dutch have embraced their fireworks, you might think this is an old tradition, but not so.  They were not legal prior to World War II, and such spectacles did not become traditional until the 1960s.  Such a tradition, however, does not come without a price.  Dutch opposition groups have recently mounted an effort to ban fireworks.  The government estimates that the New Year’s celebration causes 10 million euros damage each year.  This year, 16 cars in The Hague were burned and there were nearly 250 eye injuries related to the fireworks, and last year, two young people died in fireworks accidents.  Notwithstanding this, the tradition is not likely to change soon.  Members of Parliament and other officials say that it is impossible to imagine Dutch life without it.  With such a tradition, it is probably not a coincidence that, where we would say “Happy New Year,” the typical Dutch greeting translates literally to “Lucky New Year”.

You can see an excellent example of this typical Dutch tradition on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XBYlcf2cttI.

       

Christmas comes to Holland

     Its hard to believe that we have been here 5 months already.   Winter has set in, with its chilly temperatures, 30-40 degrees most days.  Some days are wonderfully sunny and crisp and others drab and overcast.  No snow yet, but our neighbor tells us that we will eventually have some.  He also tells us that if we get 3 or 4 days of below freezing weather, the canals will eventually freeze as well.  And when they do, all the ice skates come out.  Its a wonderful way to get around town if the weather cooperates: much faster than walking, and more fun than riding the bike.

    All the Christmas lights are up around town, and the Christmas tree lots are springing up.  The Dutch really know how to celebrate Christmas right- they have four days, not just one like us.  The season starts to ramp up soon after St. Maarten’s Day (November 5), which is the day that children go door to door and get candy treats in return for singing St. Maarten songs.  I guess this makes up for the Dutch Halloween, which does not include “trick or treating”.  

Dutch Christmas Parade

     Anyway, soon after (around the time of our Thanksgiving), the excitement (and publicity) starts to build for the annual Christmas parade, when “Sinter Klaas”, which is short for “Sint Nicolaas” (St. Nicholas or Santa Claus to us) comes to town.  The Christmas parade is a real community event (as well as being a TV event) and the whole town, or at least the ones with young kids, turns out.  However, in true Dutch fashion, the parade does not come down main street, it comes down the main canal, by boat.  The sides of the canal are lined with crowds of cheering kids while Sinter Klaas and his entourage float through downtown, waiving from  the boats.

Sinter Klaas

     The original St Nicholas was a catholic bishop, and here Sinter Klaas still looks very much like that, with a pointed hat and long staff curled at the top.  After disembarking the boat, he makes his way through the old town to the 17th Century "Academy Building", where he addresses the crowd from the balcony, looking very much like the Pope at Vatican Square, on a much smaller scale, of course. He is accompanied by a platoon of helpers, called “Zwarte Pieten” (Black Petes), who pass out small christmas cookies (“pepernoten”) and play traditional christmas songs.  Sinter Klaas leads the crowd, which enthusiastically joins in the lively songs, and then regales the kids with stories about his travels and adventures, and promises of what will happen over the Christmas season.

     True to the Dutch character, Sinter Klaas is much more practical than his American cousin: he lives in Spain in the off season, not the North Pole.  Probably hangs out at a Mediterranean beach resort drinking Margaritas with umbrellas in them.  Anyway, the Spanish connection probably comes from the fact that traditionally he gave the young kids oranges, which only came from Spain way back when.  His helpers, the “Zwarte Pieten”, all appear in black face and colorful costumes.  Traditionally, this was based on the Moorish or African servant that the original St. Nicholas had, but now the more politically correct explanation given to the kids is that the "Piets" are all black from chimney soot, from making so many trips up and down through the chimneys.  This would NEVER work in the US, so we just have elves instead. 

Sinter Klaas entertains the crowd

      Dutch kids don’t have to wait for the 25th to open presents, like American kids.  Christmas is still celebrated for two days on the 24th and 25th, but this is a more quiet time, reserved for family gatherings and big meals.  For kids, the climax comes on December 5, which is “Sinterklaasavond” (Santa Claus Eve).  This is the night when Santa comes to the houses and delivers presents to the kids.  I think the Dutch Parent Lobby was responsible for this tradition, which saves a lot of dealing with “Can we open the presents NOW PLEEEEEEEASE????”  

     The Dutch Santa Claus doesn’t arrive in the middle of the night, like the impractical American one.  He mysteriously arrives before the kids go to bed, either by knocking on the door and leaving a sack with presents, then disappearing before they  answer the door, or leaving a note out for the kids somewhere in the house telling them where the presents are hidden.  Similar to their American cousins, before going to bed, Dutch kids put a shoe in front of the fireplace for Sinter Klaas to leave a treat in (typically a chocolate “S”), and they may in return leave a treat for Sinter as well, and maybe a carrot or an apple for his horse (no reindeers in Spain, remember?). By the next day, Sinter Klaas has gone back to Spain, the Christmas trees go up, and things quiet down.

"Zwarte Pieten" helpers

     Adults may exchange gifts as well, but they are more likely to be personal, home made, or even gag gifts.  Christmas in Holland does not involve the super-charged extravagant gift frenzy that it has taken on in the US.  Some big retail companies here have tried to import the frantic consumer orgy related to Christmas shopping in the US, but so far, the practical Dutch have resisted.  Lets hope they can continue to hold out and preserve the homey and simple traditions they have enjoyed for generations.

Veronica and a Musical "Piet"

Merry Christmas to all...

They are quite friendly, even with older kids.

The Weather

Thursday, September 29, 2011

It’s  astonishingly beautiful outside. Funny that one of the things we read about the Dutch people is that they love to talk about the weather, because they usually find it so poor. So far we have found it to be the exact opposite. We’ve been here since August 11 and, with the exception of a handful of days, the sun has been out in all its’ glory. Even the days when it didn’t command the center of attention it managed to come through the clouds in smatterings throughout the day. It really has been very pleasant here. It is more like California coastal weather, than Modesto, minus the morning fog that envelopes the Coast, which we have only seen  one day since our arrival, and that was earlier this week. So maybe indeed we are getting ready for winter. Bring it on! 

Indeed there have been thunderstorms, but they have been short-lived. What they lack in their length though, they make up for in their intensity. It is breathtaking  to sit at the window and watch the lightening light up the room and hear and feel the thunder as if it were shaking the very foundation under our feet. And the rain drops, they are huge. So big in fact that at times they have looked like water cascading over a Fall in one continuous stream. 

Possibly there is another explantation as to why the Dutch talk about the weather so much. It is totally unpredictable. Tell me again why we have weather forecasters? Oh yes, to gainfully employee individuals. They can study the cloud formations, measure the wind speed and make all the predications they want, but mother nature will have it her way, and like the two year old child, it will be opposite of what you say. The answer lies somewhere between intuition and preparedness. Don’t leave home without your umbrella, but go ahead and leave it in your saddlebag while you are shopping. You probably won’t need it anyway. 

#5 Exploring Amsterdam

Sunday, September 18, 2011,

  Hello to all of our friends and family. I know Don has filled you in with a lot of history, a lot of facts. He is a Lawyer, after all, and a darned good one, except at home. I really appreciate him keeping specific records of our activities because I am not good sorting things out chronologically later. I’m better geared to share with you some of my feelings that come along with this Gigantic Undertaking. First, you all know that I was totally supportive of our move, though I wasn’t sure of what I would be doing while Don was in Class. I do know that I love adventure and am usually open to it, especially when it’s with the love of my life. If you’ve read the previous blogs then you read about our pass-ports getting stolen off the train in Antwerp. I don’t think Don told you about the part where I actually got off the train and started chasing the man across the station. I’m still mad that I didn’t get him, but at least I got back to the train before it left. Misfortunes are often turned around to become fortunes.

  Our stolen passports expedited our trip to Amsterdam where we had to reapply for new ones. We took the train from Utrecht to Amsterdam and arrived an hour earlier than our appointment, so rather than find a nice cafe to have breakfast, Don said, “Why don’t we just walk to the embassy? It’s just a 40-50 minute walk, and that’s how our day progressed. Walk Walk Walk (And by the way, for all you ladies out there, walking does not make your thighs thinner. I am living proof). But on a positive note, I have to give Don credit, the walk was very interesting. Right outside the train station The Red Light District sprawls over several city blocks.  It is very much in business still today, and supported by the Dutch Government. So if you are ever having married problems, don’t send your husband to Amsterdam. I was having ill thoughts about the whole thing and so I avoided doing the  typical tourist thing of walking through there, and of course Don was not going to go without me. There are just too many other good things to see in Amsterdam.

Amsterdam Centraal Train Station

  Also in direct view from the train station are towering old Cathedrals and Castle Like structures. When you come out of the train station you cannot help but be overwhelmed and awestruck by  all the marvelous works that were constructed hundreds of years ago and are still kept in pristine condition today. The embassy sits in the center of town and so we casually made our way there. It was still early and so the sidewalks weren’t swarming with people yet and the roads only had a few automobiles on them. This gave us a chance to get a really good look at the architecture surrounding us, and peer into the store front windows and dream about having all  the money in the world to buy all the latest fashions. After window shopping we passed Queen Beatrix Palace. It is said that this is her main palace, but she stays mostly in The Hague because it is more private. The palace in Amsterdam sits on a thoroughfare road. It doesn’t feel fitting for a Queen, but I certainly wouldn’t mind residing there. We’ve posted some pictures for you.  

Some serious competition for Starbucks

  Since we are talking about  the area of the palace let me tell you what I discovered in the adjacent narrow street, of which there are many.  Not one, not two, but several “Coffee shops” (marijuana bars).  The street was lined with them. I took  two minutes to explore inside one just to check it out, but Don was not comfortable hanging outside waiting on me.  Did he think he was going to see some old friends there. huh?  hee! hee!  Mostly I just noticed the many and varied bongs, of  which I have no personal experience. The shops are always marked with plants in the windows, and old guys hanging around out front. It really is interesting because you don’t see people walking around looking stoned and they don’t have the homeless population that Modesto has. There are signs posted that say, “Get high responsibly.”  Now there’s something to think about.

   Finally reaching the Embassy, we filed our papers for our new PassPorts and got them turned in. The officials in the office were extremely helpful and kind, and it only took 8 days to get our new passports in the mail. Once we left the embassy, Don said, ”Where do you want to walk to now?” I said, “A little food in my stomach might be a good start.”  And so we ate at this  quaint little restaurant filled with locals and tourists alike and they served us a breakfast fit for a king. I am so glad that we usually share because there is no way either one of us could have consumed it alone. With our tummies full we set off for the Rembrandt Museum. It was the first time I have ever had to stand in line to get into a museum. They put your backpacks through the X-Ray machine and then promptly made you check them in before you entered the rooms. Talk about security. What an awesome place it is.  I love so many of the Rembrandt pieces, but I couldn’t bargain a good price for them. For whatever reason I really like Vermeer's painting of the “Girl with the Pearl earring” and also his painting of the “Maid.” Don’t be surprised if I come home with them. We will be spending more days at this museum, and we have to go  to The Hague to the Maurits House, where the original painting of “The Girl with the Pearl Earring” is. Museums are mostly appreciated by visiting them several times and so that is our plan.

   We left the museum and Don reminded me that Amsterdam was the place that Anne Frank and her family hid out for 25 months during the German occupation of Holland. Such a sad story, as so many are. They were discovered hiding just a month or so before the Liberation. And all of them were sent to different concentration camps. Anne’s father was the only one to survive and with his permission their living area  was restored to the exact replica of how it was when they were living there, so that all of us could remember. I felt honored to have such an intimate setting shared with me, and humbled and ashamed for what happened to the Jewish People at that time. May we teach our children to respect all people.

  The Embassy, the Museum, and the Anne Frank’s House was enough emotional intake for me for one day. And, we had been walking for hours now. So upon my insistence we stopped at one of the many canal  bridges that connect the streets in Amsterdam, and indulged in a  Large local beer and some Dutch appetizers. There we sat for a good hour or more and “people-watched.” They watched us and we watched them. It’s great!

  We left for Amsterdam at 7:00 AM and arrived back in Utrecht around 9:00 PM.  Ready to hit the sacks!

Streets of Amsterdam

St. Nicholas Church

End of the Day 

#4 Getting to know the Dutch

We are really enjoying the process of getting to know the Dutch.   They are very friendly and helpful without being gushy.  Its not like they go around smiling all the time like Mr. Rodgers, but they do not hesitate to just speak up and help whenever they can.  After Veronica decided to bake cookies, we were at the grocery store looking for ingredients and she was having a hard time finding baking soda.  The 18-year-old stock clerk boy didn’t have a clue what she was asking for, but a woman nearby jumped in and took her to the baking section, where they proceeded to spend the next 20 minutes going through all the products and translating labels and talking about baking. We mentioned to our downstairs neighbor that we wanted to buy a futon couch at Ikea, and he immediately offered to loan us his old work car to haul it home in.  We told our retired English teacher and engineer friends down the street that we had purchased our Dutch bikes and she gave us a pair of saddle bags for them.

These are just a few of many examples.  Helping each other out is just a way of life for the Dutch.  We received a package from home while we were gone for a couple days and the mailman didn’t think twice about leaving it with a neighbor, and asking him to deliver it to us when we got home.  No matter that we didn’t know each other- neighbors help each other out, thats just what you do.   

The Dutch are very industrious in general.  Despite being one of the smaller countries in Europe (134th in size in the world, even after reclaiming a fifth of their country from the sea), they have the 16th largest economy in the world, and are the second biggest exporter of agricultural goods in the world, after the US.  They have a strong economy and a very clean and modern country.  They constantly maintain their infrastructure- you won’t find anything dirty and deteriorating in Holland (except an occasional abandoned bike).  They go first-class on public projects, so, just like the trains, everything is clean and comfortable and efficient.  There is always a construction project going on somewhere.  They are very proud of their culture and country, which they show, oddly enough, by constantly complaining about it.  However, as a foreigner, you need to learn that you are NOT supposed to agree with them!  You are there simply to facilitate the venting. 

So as a reward for all this, they have an incredible devil-may-care relationship with food.  As Americans, we come from a culture where you feel you need to be constantly vigilant about what you eat, and feel guilty about eating anything that doesn’t taste like cardboard.  Not the Dutch- they LOVE their deep fried food.   Whether its vlaamse frietjes (gourmet belgian french fries), bitter ballen (the Dutch version of falafel), or deep fried fish filets, you name it, they will batter it, drag it in meal, deep fry it, and eat it with abandon, and because they do so much walking and biking, they don’t seem to gain weight.  You rarely see a fat Dutch person.   

This is not the place to live if you don’t like fish.  They drag every kind of fish they can up from the North Sea.  There is so much fresh fish, its considered a mortal sin to sell frozen fish.  The Dutch version of the Taco Truck sells fresh fish on the street and they are everywhere. The classic Dutch treat is the “new herring”, raw herring in salt water that you roll in onions and drop into your mouth whole, bottoms up!

  Did I mention that they love their bikes as well?  There are 16½ million Dutch living in Holland, and 18 million bikes, so do the math.  There is an incredible network of paved bike paths connecting nearly all the cities in the country, complete with directional signs to and through the cities.  The government does everything it can to encourage bike use, including taking space out of the roadway to make bike lanes, giving tax credits for bike use, giving bikes priority over cars in traffic laws, and giving them their own traffic signals just like pedestrians.  The shopping mall parking lot is full of bikes- hundreds of bikes.  There is no parking lot for cars.  

Everywhere there is a sidewalk, there is a bike path next to it, twice as wide.    First time visitors to the city are inclined to think “My, what a nice broad sidewalk!” and stroll down the wide brick pathway.  This is not a healthy inclination.  You are far more likely to get flattened by a bike than by any car in Holland. There are two kinds of pedestrians in Holland: the quick and those with twin sets of fat bicycle tracks going up their back. 

  Every Dutch bike rider has a bell on his or her bike, and they are not afraid to use it.  The Dutch are normally very polite.  If they accidentally step in front of you in line, they are quick to apologize.  If they accidentally bump you in a crowd, they are mortified at themselves and beg forgiveness.  But put them on the seat of a 20-year-old used Dutch city-bike, and they are a different person.  One casual step by an absent minded pedestrian into the bike riders domain, and you are flirting with death.  They will give you the bell in a heartbeat.  Stand in the bike crosswalk waiting at the stoplight, and you get the bell; start to cross the bike path without looking, and you get the bell.  They will hit the dinger on you with a vengeance for any invasion of bike lane territory.  I have never been dinged so much as when I come to Holland.

In fact, you’d have to say the Dutch are pretty good with their dingers.  Just the other day, I was strolling along on my part of the sidewalk and a biker dude blew right by me, barely missing me.  I was so angry, I grabbed for my dinger to give it to him, but unfortunately I wasn’t on a bike, so I was dingerless.  So instead, I just shook my fist and hollered “If I had a dinger you would really get it, buster!  You’re just lucky that you are the only one of us who has a working dinger!”  I guess I showed him.

And then, just when you think you have mastered the bike lanes, you see them: the kamikaze food bikes.  Actually, you don’t see them first, you hear them, but by the time you hear their loud angry buzzing, its too late, they are on you.  At 5:00 pm everyday, they come out, zipping around from here to there.  The air is thick with them.  These food delivery bikes are souped up Vespas with hot boxes on the back that sound like weed whackers on steroids.  They speed through the streets, across the sidewalks, through the crowds of cyclists and pedestrians with no regard for their own or anyone else’s safety.  I haven’t seen one go through a side walk café yet, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they did.  They make the average state-side pizza delivery dude look tame by comparison.

Old Town and sidewalk cafes

Class starts tomorrow, so I am looking forward to meeting my class mates, finding out where they all come from, and how many decades older than the average I am!

The "Dom" (church tower) dominates the city skyline.

Bike everywhere 

The Oude Gracht Canal through town

Dutch Utility Bike 

Utrecht- The Fashion Capital 

#3 Getting to know Utrecht

Utrecht has got to be the ultimate cool University town.  It is the fourth largest city in Holland, after Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and The Hague, with a population just over 312,000.   The University, the largest in Holland, has around 30,000 students, which includes nearly 4,000 at the Law School.   There are over 2,000 international students representing 70 nationalities from all 7 continents except Antarctica, and I think they are working on that one.  It is in the top 50 Universities in the world, and by one survey is ranked number 2 in Europe.  The University celebrated its 375th anniversary earlier this year. 

           So that means plenty of students around town to keep the population young and lively.  In the final weeks of summer leading up to the start of school, the parks around town are alive with rock concerts and parties welcoming back the returning students.  The city has a huge variety of restaurants including Indonesian, Thai, Greek, Argentinian, Italian, French, and, yes, even American, and an even bigger variety of pubs, clubs, and outdoor cafés.  The main square, the Neude (pronounced Nude-ah) is a huge open air cobbled square with an imposing turn of the century post office building on one side and a half a dozen restaurant/pubs on the other, each with outdoor seating for 50+.  It is filled with people lolling about causally talking, or sharing intimate conversation in a quiet corner, or just procrastinating over a pitcher of Dutch or Belgian beer.  It is the hub of social activity in the old town, but thats just scratching the surface.  There is plenty else to keep the local denizens occupied, with numerous “hang out” spots tucked along the winding streets.  When you throw in all the museums, festivals and other cultural events (Utrecht has the highest density of cultural treasures in Europe) and the tallest cathedral spire in the country (The Dom, built in the 14th century, 368+ feet tall with 465 steps up the spire) and the miles of canals criss-crossing the city, there is plenty to do.

The main canal bisecting the old town is the “Oude Gracht” (which I think means “old fart” unless my dictionary is defective).  The canal is sunken some 6 to 10 feet down from the roadway and the sides are lined in brick, with a brick patio at the water level, used as a wharf in the olden days.  The cellars that line the canal were used by the merchants during earlier times when the canals were the main transportation arteries.  Now they serve as homes for the numerous international restaurants found in Utrecht.  The canals are crossed by a series of low arched bridges, which are romantically lighted up at night.  All in all, its quite a pleasant stroll.

The weather in Utrecht is always a topic of conversation.  Although Utrecht is “centrally located” in Holland, it is only 40 miles from the North Sea, which still has a big influence on the climate here.  Its usually cold and wet in the winter, and dry in the summer, and the temperature rarely exceeds 70 or 80 degrees.  However, the weather is quite unpredictable.  The weather literally comes rolling in, with the result that the clouds rarely stand still in the sky, and always seem to be moving.  It is not unusual for a rain storm to start just like someone suddenly turning on the shower with no warning.  The weather rarely stays the same all day long.  If its cloudy or rainy in the morning, it will be sunny in the the afternoon, and vice versa.  The by-product of this is that the weather forecasts are always right- and always wrong.  Regardless of the forecast, whatever they say is bound to happen some time during the day.  At any rate, days that are sunny all day long are thoroughly enjoyed.

And then there is the Dutch and their ubiquitous dingers.  But thats a story for next time.

Along the Oude Gracht

Stadthuis Plein with the Dom in the background

Always something happenin' at the Neude