Doing it by Hand: Learning Domesticity

There is, in my opinion, a lack of "doing things by hand" these days. We are a throw away society, especially in well to do, Western countries. Things must always be instantaneous. Here, in the middle of the North Sea, on an island that looks rather like it is stuck in 1935, I have learnt to take life slower, and to "make do and mend."

In the weeks leading up to my imminent move to my new room, in a new city, in a new country, I've had to get a lot of things organised and sorted. Sifting through clothes, old letters from friends, that poster I just had to have about four years ago...oh golly, do things pile up. And with moving to a new place you need things you were sure you had, but now can't seem to find.

I arrived at my grandmother's with all my bits and pieces, feeling rather like a vagabond. Worn clothes, holes in rucksacks, and very travel weary - I am sure those around me must have despaired. So, it was with immediate effect that all my things were pulled out and washed, examined with scrutiny, and I was stuffed to the gills to bring back the glow of healthiness. (Thank goodness for family!) It was during all this, however, that I realised I didn't know much about anything at all. How, for example, should I wash that old, but favourite, wool jumper? How on earth do I set about mending that well-used bag? What, in fact, is the best way to cut up chicken, or even to slice fruits and veg without a cutting board? And really now, how have I gone without learning to hang up laundry properly?

I was about to learn quickly. Did you know there is actually a way to properly hang laundry? (I certainly never knew!) Growing up in the States, hanging up laundry was something you saw only in films. Everyone had a dryer (or a drycleaner's). I honestly had no clue. In my nearly four years in England, my washing was always rather in a state of hopelessness - not to say it wasn't clean, but the drying process was rather hit and miss. This was partially due to the weather (thanks, rain), and in part due to a lack of a clothes horse. Chairs and radiators it was then. I came to my grandmother's and suddenly realised that hanging up washing properly could save you mountains of time. 

It's also bloody hard work. My shoulders ached after the first two loads. My grandmother, being a sailor's wife, has a wonderfully rigged laundry line both inside and outside, all with twine and sailing knots. (Of which I also had to learn). Hauling the line up with heavy, damp cloth is hard work! Never have I seen such white and pristine whites, nor such un-faded darks though - it was a washing revolution. Hanging it correctly can also mean you can get away without ironing (BIG plus for me, as I'm rubbish at it).

Then came the jumpers. How to wash wool and not ruin it? Like so: get a bucket of lukewarm water with a drop or two of colour washing liquid. Knead the jumper in the water like you would dough; let it sit for five minutes; squeeze out water and soap, dunk in fresh water, again kneading (this time kneading out the soap). Again squeeze out, rinse with fresh water, repeat. Then here comes the fun part: lay out jumper on a towel; roll it up then place on the floor and stamp on it (such fun!) - this gets out any excess water, leaving the jumper only damp. Then lay flat to dry (may take up to two days depending on thickness of jumper).

In preparation for my new room, we washed all sorts of linens and towels (I'm quickly discovering my new calling in life); we also washed out old pillows (similar process to above, actually.) What's lovely is that my linens now consist of things handed down from my great-grandmother, my great-aunt, my grandmother, and my mother. Everything is nearly twice as old as I am, and yet, it doesn't look it. It's been well cared for for over 50+ years. I've never had anything so old (nor perhaps anything so nice.) The quality of these linens is astounding - it is no wonder they are still looking great.

And this brings to me to my gripe - today, trying to find decent materials isn't easy. Things I bought four years ago in England are now disintegrating; favourite clothes I brought over from America are feeling shabby. Things aren't made to last anymore. In this week alone I've washed, scrubbed, threaded and dusted things that I would have once said no to. Amazing what a bit of soap and elbow grease can do! And vinegar! There should be whole books on the wonderful properties of vinegar!

To look around me and see these women who can sew, knit, mend anything you like; who can cut up a chicken before you can say Jack Robinson; who know the many ways buttermilk can be used; who know all there is about flowers; who understand the mysterious properties of making jam...the list goes on and on. It's like magic. I am stunned by it, in fact. This is not to say my dear mother didn't try her best. I just wasn't interested - there were trees to be climbed, books to be read, mud to jump in, and these domestic things all took patience that I never had.

But it is a eye opening thing when you realise in your late twenties that you really know nothing at all about the simple things in life. During my twenties I have learned more than I thought possible about "making a home" - how to make cakes and bread from scratch, how to rotate linens (and now wash them!), how to polish leather shoes, how to mend a cotton shirt.

There will be whole groups of people shouting that I shouldn't be worried about these things, but I am in fact. I know this isn't 1950 any more, but don't people realise how useful this knowledge is? How giving a child applesauce or mint tea can calm an upset tummy better than some modern pill? How being able to sew up that new shirt you've worn only once but is so badly made that it rips easily is handy? How, in fact, to "make do and mend" is something we should heed in this day of overwhelming waste? Would it be such a bad thing to have entire classes on cookery, needlework, gardening, and how to look after others in modern schools? (Granted, these may still exist in some places, but I can't name one person that I know of my generation that had such a class).

All I know is, I am extremely grateful to be heading off to my new city armed with old linens and the knowledge of how to hang laundry.

Cinematic Lamentations

Though not one to dwell on negativity, I am feeling a bit put out. The beginning of 2014 has seen a significant rise in "decent" films and cinematic endeavours, and here I am, in the middle of the North Sea, with no access to any of it! And not just film, no indeed: television has decided to produce some wonderful series, and the West End is awash in Shakespeare. Typical.

I can't really complain, as I'm having a jolly adventure here...but film has always been an avid interest of mine, and when the line up came out for "What to expect in 2014", well, I could hardly believe my eyes. We've seen some great things come out of cinema the last few years, and television as well, but never have I seen such an incredible list for the first few months of a year.
(If film isn't really your thing, please feel free to skip ahead. But...I would implore you to read on - you might find something of interest!)

A section of the line up:

JANUARY

The Best Offer - starring Geoffrey Rush; the story is about an antiques dealer (Rush) who becomes obsessed with an heiress who has asked him to evaluate some rare paintings she owns. The trailer looks very mysterious, and has an array of familiar faces.

The Railway Man - Colin Firth stars in this true story of a victim of the WWII "Death Railway" in Burma. It will likely be compared to Bridge Over the River Kwai, but in my opinion it stands apart. The main character is faced with a chance to meet his Japanese torturer, so while very much a historical drama, this will no doubt be a captivating story. A three tissue film, I should think.

Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit - based on the character in Tom Clancy novels, starring Chris Pine. (Not sure I can see him as anything but Captain Kirk now...). I don't think this particular film is based on a Clancy book, unlike the Harrison Ford films. Pine will be the fourth actor to play Jack Ryan, following Alec Baldwin, Harrison Ford, and Ben Affleck. I'm interested in this film, because 1) I do love a good action flick, 2) it's about spies and hankers back to the Cold War, and 3) surprisingly enough, it's directed by Kenneth Branagh. Yes... I'm curious! (Plus it has Kevin Costner alongside Pine!)

Inside Llewyn Davies - about a young folk singer in 1960s Greenwich Village, New York, that echoes strongly of Dylan. It's directed by Joel and Ethan Coen, with an incredible soundtrack, and a stellar cast. I go rather weak at the knees at the music - Marcus Mumford, Dave Van Ronk, Chris Thile, and Oscar Issac (Davies) who gives them all a run for their money. I'm sceptical because I'm not usually a fan of the Coen brothers...however, the music is drawing me in, and I will certainly see it.

And the television channel, Sky Atlantic, is releasing the mini-series, Fleming, at the end of the month. About Bond's creator, Ian Fleming, obviously. Dominic Cooper stars amongst a brilliant cast, and I'm hopeful! Television has been looking good so far this month! We've seen the return of Nordic Noir delight, The Bridge, as well as Call the Midwife, and The Bletchley Circle.

FEBRUARY

(This is the month where things really begin to heat up!)

The Invisible Woman - Ah, the wonderfully talented and silk voiced, Ralph Finnes (pronounced the old fashioned way, "Rafe," by the way). Not only is the clever man directing, he is starring as Charles Dickens. I go all a-flutter when I see the trailer as it looks beautiful. Creatively shot, interesting story line (Dickens had a secret young mistress apparently, the scoundrel), and lovely costumes. Cannot wait!

Winter's Tale - this film, starring Colin Farrell and Russell Crowe is being released in the US on Valentine's Day, which leads me to believe it will be rather soppy. But then again, who doesn't love a bit of romance and fairy tale? It also stars the ill-fated Sybil from Downton Abbey (Jessica Brown-Findlay). The trailer itself is somewhat confusing - it's set in a mythical New York, and a burglar falls in love with a young lady who is dying. I think. Anyway, I am intrigued. It's based on a book by Mark Helprin.

The Monuments Men - First off, they filmed part of this near Cambridge, England! It was in the papers and everything: "Matt Damon and George Clooney come to Cambridge" - (only slightly less exciting than when the Duke and Duchess visited...). It's about a group of men (true story, by the way) who have been tasked with saving Europe's art from the Nazi's and returning them to their rightful place. Art, WWII, great cast - I'm already sold.  

MARCH

The Grand Budapest Hotel - This is the one I'm waiting for. I think it will be even better than Wes Andersen's last, and it has a most amazing cast. With, guess who - (yes, You-Know-Who!) - Ralph Finnes, as the lead. He really has been a busy bee. This film looks amazing on so many points - cast, obviously; hilarity and great one liners; beautifully shot; and the ever intriguing characters Wes Andersen is truly brilliant at creating.

Some other films that are coming out this year that look interesting are, Osage County (Oscar nomination for Meryl Streep, surely); Labor Day (Kate Winslet being her usual talented self, though stuck in another mother role); Grace of Monaco (Nicole Kidman in the starring role);
And the one I am most impatient for (they haven't even given us a release date!?) is The Imitation Game - starring Benedict Cumberbatch as Alan Turing. All about Bletchley Park and the WWII codebreakers, with Turning at its head. Not only historically fascinating, but it has the lovely Benedict looking dishy in braces (suspenders), and riding a bicycle in a rather fetching grey suit.

So, as you can see - a tremendous line up, and that's only the first three months of the year! Of course, the films might be horrible, but I somewhat doubt it. I'm chafing at the bit because my old independent cinema in Cambridge is having special events and themed nights galore to celebrate all this wonderful art.

For me, going to the cinema is nothing to do with popcorn or best mates or a night out; no, for me it is about celebrating an artform where it was intended. Bring down the lights, turn up the sound, roll the projector - bliss. Go when it is quiet and cheaper (afternoons or Monday evenings); go to your local, independent cinemas (they usually serve beer, always a plus); support cinema and film - don't just settle for downloading; on the big screen is where film comes to life after all.

On Being a Fangirl

The Oxford English dictionary describes "fangirl" as a female fan, especially one who is obsessive about comics, film, music, or science fiction. Urban dictionary suggests that it is a derogatory term, and I believe it is often used that way. Usually towards fifteen year olds "obsessed" with Doctor Who or who stand about for hours for a glimpse of One Direction.

It would not be often said of me that I am a fangirl. Certainly not the screaming, hand flapping, typing all in capitals, and/or fainting type. I think I am, in fact, a closet fangirl. I don't jump about madly, but I just get silly grins on my face and go all wobbly inside. A stealth fangirl, if you will. 

I have had the great fortune to meet lots of my favourite musicians, authors, and actors. Please do not think the next few paragraphs are name dropping; I am merely trying to illustrate my point. 

For example, growing up around the American bluegrass and folk scene in the mountains of Colorado, I met and chatted with many folk musicians. I think this is where my love of music came from - sitting on a hillside and hearing music, and getting to chat with the band afterwards. They were such normal, lovely people, and eager to discuss songwriting or their particular love of the banjo. The group Eddie from Ohio I met many times, and were particularly inspiring in the songwriting category; Tim O'Brien, a fantastic and highly talented musician, showed us how simple is sometimes best; and The Waifs, an Aussie trio who were a prime example of how music is just so darn fun. 

The list goes on, but it was meeting and listening to musicians like these that shaped my own musical endeavours, for which I shall always be grateful. Getting to meet your icons is definitely cause for fangirl moments. I did, for instance, nearly stop breathing when I met Joan Baez. Who wouldn't!?

While living in England I was able to indulge in my fangirlish-ness to a surprisingly terrific degree. Everything is so accessible. I visited National Trust properties that served as backgrounds and sets for films (Mr Darcy not included in the tour unfortunately). Wilton House near Salisbury where Pride and Prejudice and The Young Victoria were filmed; Castle Howard in Yorkshire where Brideshead Revisited was filmed; the town of Hastings where they filmed Foyle's War; and so on and so on... (I had nearly four years after all!) 

Most of my favourite authors are from last century, so it is a point of visiting where they lived. Most of the time there isn't a whole heap to see, but just outside of Nottingham I was able to visit the birthplace of author, D.H Lawrence. I think I was the only visitor all week, so the old lady there gave me a personalised tour. We had the most splendid time talking about the author. It gave such great insight to see where the author grew up - how it inspired his stories and his characters.
(You too can visit places of literary connection: visit the National Trust website).

So while most of my favourite authors aren't in the land of the living, I did have the great opportunity to meet two prominent staples of Television at book signings: Stephen Fry and Sir David Attenborough. Most certainly fangirl moments meeting such legends! Mr Fry was a delight, and is enormous in person. The telly doesn't prepare one for his height. I don't know how I kept my head while Sir David chatted with me. He was such a lovely man, and I walked away that day feeling much taller. 

Actors in Britain are also accessible (this sounds slightly stalkerish, but I assure you it isn't). Many return to the stage, so popping down to London to take in a play very easily places you in their vicinity. I once sat in the front row at The Apollo Theatre (the one in which the roof fell in last month) seeing David Suchet perform in an incredible production. I've seen so many great actors on the stage - what I love about it is that I get to see another side of their acting ability. Film is one thing; stage is quite another.

I think people would hate watching British television shows with me because I find myself constantly recognising people and thinking, "oh yes, I've seen them in such and such play!"... While working in a bookshop, I did in fact serve Brendan Coyle, the delectable Mr Bates from Downton Abbey, who was charm itself. My face went very red and stayed like that for about an hour afterwards...I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest. Worse part was, NO ONE knew who he was. (This was when Downton had only just begun, but still!).

And herein lies the problem with my fangirl tendencies: no one knows who the hell I'm on about! For years my friends wrote it off to, "Who - another old British dude you like?" 

In the "old days" I think people took out magazine subscriptions to things which turned them into screaming fans. Thank goodness for the Internet! Now we can join plenty of others who appreciate splendid, enigmatic acting; those of us who have slight (or not so slight) obsessions with all things Nordic; and can chat about our favourite books or upcoming films. I can go on and on about how Michael Kitchen is brilliant, or why Benedict Cumberbatch and Alan Rickman are by far the best British baddies in the history of American cinema, and there are whole groups of people that agree with me! (Very nice, for a change!) 

Through forums, Facebook appreciation pages, blogs (ahem), fanfiction, conventions, and more, we can express our enthusiasm for things we are interested in and passionate about. We can learn so much from channelling this enthusiasm. For me, visiting the places my favourite authors wrote about gives me such a better idea of the stories; getting that background became part of the reading experience. Or brushing up on some history to better understand a new film - the list is endless of how our interests can broaden our horizons . Equally, being able to meet people you've seen on telly, or admire musically is a terrific (if not slightly terrifying) thing. It brings it all that much closer.

Enjoy your passions. Indulge yourself. The things we are passionate about are important, and should be explored and shared. I know I always will ... (whether you really want to hear about them or not!)

Nautical Life

After spending a weekend rushing hither and thither from the continent by boat, I've come to realise something: travelling by boat is the way to do it! Second best after trains. In fact, I spent more time on boats than on dry land this weekend. I found it to be very relaxing and good fun. And why, you may ask? Boats take longer, there is the potential possibility for seasickness, and the ever present danger of icebergs....ok, only if you are crossing the Atlantic in 1912, but still. Well, here's why I think it's rather jolly:

Nautical terms! How much more fun is it to say things like, "I am going aft" (this sound slightly risque, I realise, but in context it makes sense...) or something like, "You will find me on the starboard side, on deck 10, amidship...", or "Come aboard". Things like sundecks at the stern, or stepping into cabins, and all the different knots. Also, good looking captains with white caps and crisp uniforms (hello, sailor!). Hearing horns, feeling the constant rumble of the engines, life rings with the ship name on it, large picture windows on every side, cabins with bunks and toilets that go whoosh. It's all a bit exotic and wonderful.

I've not been on a cruise before; this is mostly by choice, because although travelling by boat is my new favourite thing, being stuck on said boat for a week or more with the same people would be maddening. At least on land you can attempt to get away from the loud and/or obnoxious tourists. On a boat you can go forward or aft. (Or overboard, I suppose).

After living on the island of Terschelling for a few months, the only way to get anywhere is by ferryboat. Although trying to plan your life around a ferry schedule is at times frustrating, it does bring an exotic air to the place. It is exciting to hop on a boat for the mainland; for me it is still a novelty. The ferries to and from the island are wonderful; very clean, comfortable, and have wifi. You hardly feel the waves at all unless the Waddenzee is particularly choppy.

The Stenaline ferries from Hoek van Holland to Harwich are also very modern and luxurious. It makes travelling that much easier because you can take overnight ferries. Hop on the boat, have a drink in the bar on Deck 9, and then back to the cabin for a sleep. Easy, fairly afordable, no stress, and comfortable - what's not to like?

Outside Cabin aboard Stena Hollandica

My channel crossings have certainly been better than the crossing we had from Egypt to Jordan last spring. That was a nightmare, and luckily we arrived in one piece. It was meant to be a catamaran - a type of boat (or should I say ship?) that has two hulls, making it more stable and usually quicker (so often used for ferries).

Well, it wasn't the catamaran, but a huge, hulking beast of ship. It wasn't too bad - you could get a cup of tea and the seats were all right. But the waiting for hours (five or six hours!) before setting sail was a trial of patience to say the least. All the Egyptian families were setting up camp on the sundecks, bringing out large picnics and getting settled in. That was when I think my travel partner and I realised we were in for the long haul. The bathrooms had flooded and sloshed with each dip of the waves. People were sprawled out everywhere; it was hot. The crossing itself was quite smooth, and the lights of Israel and Jordan were a welcome sight after being stuck on a ship all day.

It's in my bones to enjoy the sea. I come from a long line of sailors, so it is only natural that I feel a pull towards the water. I've always admired it from a wary distance, but have rather enjoyed spending so much time around, and on it, recently. I would love to wear lots of stripes and a jauntily set cap, and sail about in warm climates, saying things like, "Hard to port," or "What's our heading, skipper?" - well, perhaps one day!

By the way, if you want to have a laugh looking up nautical terms, this website has a whole list. Some may be familiar, but others are quite peculiar!

On Being Understood in a Second Language

To be understood and listened to is, naturally, satisfying. But in a different language it is truly a relief! Carrying on any sort of conversation that includes questions and answers that is not in your native tongue is great. I would hazard a guess that more people spoke another language (or two!) "back in the day", especially in places like Europe. With neighbouring countries a two hour train ride away, it makes sense.

Nowadays, I would say that English is our world's common language. The language of technology, air traffic control, marine radio; found in all corners of the globe in the form of music, television, and perhaps most specifically, film. So, great for English speakers - easy peasy! However, because of this, it also means those of us who speak English might not take that extra step of learning another language.

I should add though, that even if you are an English speaker and want to speak another language, the speakers of that other language might not be helpful. They want to practise their English, and so very often you are left jabbering half heartedly. I was once checking into a hostel in Hamburg, Germany, very proud of the German I had been practising on the train from Denmark. (The rest of the carriage thought I was probably crazy, muttering to myself, but there we are...). When it was finally my turn, I stepped up to the desk, handed over my passport and began my rehearsed words. The girl behind the desk nodded, spoke back to me, then stopped, looking at my passport.

She looked up and said, "Why are you speaking German?"
"Er...to practise?"
"Oh. Right. But you're English?" She handed the passport back to me, shaking her head, and began launching into the hostel spiel in perfect, though German accented, English.

So much for that.

Even in Amsterdam when I was speaking Dutch to people behind the counters in the shops, they still replied in English. It makes me wonder sometimes, do I have a massive stamp on my head that reads "British - please only speak English"?? It is infuriating when trying to speak to people in their own language and they insist on speaking English in return. Even in Mexico it was like this. I know my Spanish is bad, but come on!

It can be terrifying when someone asks you a question though...you know you have to answer and there's always a fear that nodding and smiling won't cut it.

Did you hear so and so was juggling on his bicycle while texting and eating a sandwich? Fell right off and the other cyclists didn't stop. (By the way, this is how I picture myself dying - Dutch cyclists are mad...)

Nodding and smiling to stuff like this will leave you alone in a corner at a party, for sure.

So, as I say, being understood and not sounding like an utter idiot is always a HUGE relief. This week I had to have an interview at de Rijksuniversiteit Groningen. It was simple in principle - I had to speak with someone to figure out what level I should be at for a Dutch language course. The interview was all in Dutch, naturally.

Spelling my name was the hardest part of the entire interview. (In Dutch, the letter 'a' is pronounced "ah", the letter 'e' is "a" as in "say", and 'i' is "e" as in key. And I have a lot of vowels in my full name [no pun intended], so you can imagine my trouble). I felt a right idiot - couldn't even spell my name properly - but the rest of the interview went surprisingly well.

I was so relieved once I left the office - I'd only used four English words in a pinch, and I was on my way to joining a class. We even joked a bit and had laugh. Phew! Then today I went to a hairdresser's - now THAT is a time you want to make sure you are understood! I can report that it went successfully.

So far, so good. I am really looking forward to learning more in a classroom setting. It's one thing learning from family and "on the street" as it were, but understanding grammar and the "why" of it all will be helpful. In this day and age, although English is used all around the world, we have so much more access to other languages. We English speakers have a better chance than before to learn another language. From Rosetta Stone programs to good ol' YouTube - "we have the technology"!

Learning another language is such a wonderful thing - it brings you closer to another culture and is really fun. One of the things that older people often say that they regret was not learning another language well. I find too that once you learn one, the second and third will come that much easier. I am in no way a linguist, and am only fairly average when it comes to these sorts of things, but I enjoy it, so therefore it becomes that much easier.

Imagine, arriving in a new country and being able to read some of the signs or even the menu; being able to say a few words - it is great for the life of traveller. I know a few words in lots of languages, which on the surface seems fairly useless, but in my travels I have found that it has helped beyond belief. Along with a smile (and lots of hand signals) it clears the way to better communication. Give it a go!

Nordic Noir and Swooning over Sweden

"Nordic Noir" is not my term, but rather has been coined to encompass Scandinavian crime fiction and crime dramas. There is quite a following for all things Scandinavian (guilty party, right here!) and the guys over at Nordic Noir do a wonderful job bringing it closer to those of us outside Scandinavia. And who doesn't like a bit of gritty detective drama to keep you cosy on a wintery night?

I first experienced the wonder that is "Nordic Noir" after Stieg Larsson's Millennium Trilogy was published in English. I had actually just been in Sweden visiting a good friend and she mentioned it. Had I heard of the book about "men who hate women"? Naturally I hadn't, because (typical!) the Swedish title, Män som hatar kvinnor (literally, Men who hate women) had been changed to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

Can I just take a moment to interject just how much I love Sweden? I do, I really love the place. First, however, let me say the only negative things I have ever thought about it are a) asking 65 Kroner (about £6) for 568millileters of beer is really rather a cheek; b) the sun setting at 3pm, after only have risen at 9am in wintertime is just cruel; and finally c) it's bloody freezing come September until about May. 

So, I make a point only ever to go in July or August when the weather is perfect, the sun never sets, the fields are in bloom, and the men all walk about in nice trousers and boat shoes. In fact all the young men are strikingly gorgeous, looking as if they've just walked off a photoshoot for Björn Borg, and drive about in Volvos with their beautiful, blond girlfriends. Of course they are never single - that would be too easy...

I think this is why I love Sweden: it actually fits its sterotypes to a tee. And they are all delighful! Every house you walk into (likely painted red with white trimming) is like an Ikea showroom - classy, understated, and modern. The streets are clean, the buildings well maintained, the hospitals are to die for (erm...sorry...great health care is what I mean to say...), everyone under the age of 30 speaks perfect, accentless English, and the modern trains have better wifi than most homes.

The Swedes are crazy about ice cream and therefore it can found everywhere (how is this not amazing!?); actually, all their food is yummy; everyone could be models for H&M; over half the population either has a boat or a summer cabin - plumbing optional; lots of nature and water; families regularly jump into lakes naked; beer can be bought for 80pence per can in a government run liquor store (begging the question, why do bars even exist?), and public transport is so effortless. It is a beautiful country, with interesting history, fantastic people, and the style of living is enviable.

I could go on about Sweden for ever, and while this is all overgeneralising, my point is: how can a culture so full and bright produce such dark and, frankly, shocking crime fiction? And this isn't just Sweden - neighbouring countries of Norway and Denmark, with similar cultures, produce equally chilling stuff. Some may even call these stories disturbing. It is incredible to say the least. Some things that have come out of Scandinavia in the past twenty years are shocking good reads. The Millennium Trilogy, Henning Mankell's Wallander, Jo Nesbo's books - the list goes on an on. This is before we get to films and television series.

So, for me it began with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I stood reading it voraciously, elbow to elbow in a packed train at the end of summer travelling from Bristol to London. It was the beginning of the end. From there it was on to the Wallander series, then The Killing (Forbrydelsen), then Arne Dahl, Borgen, and The Bridge (Bron). I was even lucky to see Krister Henriksson, who plays Wallander in the Swedish series, in London at an event put on by Nordic Noir.

And many of these tv series have been remade in the English language. Normally this annoys me more than anything - why can't people just read subtitles, honestly? Why must Hollywood get their grubby fingers on it, or even the BBC? However, after some thought, I realised people loved the genre so much, they just had to give it a go themselves.

Wallander was remade with the lovely Kenneth Brannaugh, playing Police Inspector Kurt Wallander solving all sorts of insane crimes - filmed entirely in Ystad, Sweden. It was good... Then the Yanks played merry hell with Denmark's, The Killing (that one I boycotted, as you can't really out-do Sofie Gråbøl). This story follows a Copenhagen detective solving a complex, twenty episode, abduction and murder case. Incredible captivating and horribly gritty. And Sarah Lund's jumper is wonderful.

Hollywood also remade The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - shooting on location in Sweden did help, as did the number of Swedish actors, but it actually felt like Daniel Craig was playing his character of Bond. If Bond had given up spying and become a chain smoking journalist...The original Swedish version of the film was terrifyingly well done, so Hollywood didn't stand much chance.

Then Americans remade The Bridge, in 2013. This time, instead of Malmö/Copenhagen, it was set between the US/Mexican border.  It was filled with cowboys, and pitiful shots of Juarez, and shock, horror - subtitles for about five minutes per show. It was like they were filling a quota...Awful. I gave up.

And then, would you believe, the Brits got hold of the idea, deciding to remake it, set between France and Britain on the Eurotunnel, renaming it The Tunnel (...aren't they clever...). This one, so far, I've actually been impressed with. It feels appropriately depressing...

I've just realised I've gone on quite a bit about this. The thing is, Scandinavian crime is in a league of its own - full of dark, gritty, often horrible stories. Yet the acting is understated, the filming superb and suitably bleak, and scripts often complex. The worst things in human nature usually pop up. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo alone has all of humankind's depravity: murder, serial killers, rape, Anti-Semitism, torture, incest...yes, I know, sounds charming - but believe me, it's a bloody good read.

Why is all this gritty crime so compelling then? I'm not sure I know the answer, but what I can suggest is that you take a look as soon as you can. Get on to Netflix or down to your local bookstore immediately. You'll never look at crime drama the same again. And also go to Sweden if you haven't done so already. Even if you have been, go again. It's wonderful!

How to curse in Dutch

If you have clicked on this post thinking you are about to learn how to swear dramatically in a foreign language (and we all know how fun that is), I'm afraid you are in for a disappointment. It would be very unladylike of me, and as my mother used to say, "We don't speak like that." (The royal "we"...)

However, I have discovered in The Netherlands, that the Dutch have a rather unique way of cursing. They have the usual run of the mill swearing of course, which I will not be sharing with you. (Learn the nice words first in a language - it will do more good in the long run!) I do see a difference in the terms, by the way. Cursing brings to mind witches and fairy stories, whereas swearing brings to mind oaths and heavy things dropping on toes. 

Dutch curses are unique in that they use old fashioned diseases (and some modern ones) that are literally translated to things like, "I hope you get typhoid." Er...pardon? I was sitting with my great aunt in her front room, which hasn't changed much since the 1930s, listening to her stories and drinking tea. This particular story was about children, not long after the War, who went around the street asking each neighbour for a penny for Sint Maarten. Some would hand them out, whereas other neighbours would send them on their way. When this happened the children would walk away saying, "Catch diseases," or something similar. I did a double take when I heard this, wondering if I had just mistranslated in my head. Then I remembered reading about this way of cursing people, and asked about it.

Sitting there and drinking tea, only to hear my old aunt reel off a string of old fashioned diseases in forms of curses was the most bizarre thing ever. She ended by saying with a grin, "Well, we weren't allowed to say things like that, of course."

I nodded rather weakly, thinking to myself, No, I should think not..." Imagine telling someone who has perhaps just run you down with his bicycle (extremely likely in this country) to go get cancer and die while he's about it!? Bloody hell! (Whoops, sorry, Mum!).

There's a whole list that include things like tuberculosis, typhoid fever, syphilis, smallpox, cancer, and even the plague! Perhaps the worse the disease, the more cross they are with you...? It's rather harsh on the face of things, but hearing it makes me want to laugh because it sounds so odd. Certainly more entertaining than some of our English "curses" (you can use your imagination here...).
We've been doing it all wrong - next time you are mowed down by an entire posse of 14 year old girls on bicycles, all texting and laughing, remember your 18th century diseases and epidemics!

Remember them, don't actually say them - we don't speak like that, after all...

Nederland New Year

Happy New Year! A new year, a new country, a new language, a new city. Lots of changes and new experiences. New experiences such as celebrating Oud en Nieuw (literally Old and New) or New Year's in the Netherlands. The last time I was here for this was when I was one year old. At least this time I could make it until midnight!

It is always such fun learning about how other cultures celebrate popular holidays. Here in the Netherlands, Oudjaarsavond (New Year's Eve) begins at about 10am with people setting off firecrackers to chase away the old year to bring in the new. Well, as you might imagine, cracks, booms, and whistles going off every five minutes from the morning time got old quickly. It sounded like we were sat in the middle of a war zone or The Blitz! Especially when the windows rattled after larger booms...I was just waiting for the air raid sirens... 

A popular snack, that I have completely fallen in love with, is Oliebollen (literally oil dumplings). They are dough balls dropped in hot oil, on which you can sprinkle icing sugar - when they are still warm they become a wonderful, sticky, oily mess. They often have raisins or currants inside. Here on Terschelling there is another version - cranberries - which the island is famous for. SO yummy! The bitterness of the cranberries mixes well with the sweet icing sugar. Honestly, it is amazing I haven't had a cardiac arrest after eating so many. Another treat is appelflap or apple turnovers.

Oliebollen

Last night, the television was full of special programs for New Year's Eve, often with Dutch musicians and popular people. It's all a bit silly and fun; at one minute to midnight a clock comes on the screen and counts down until midnight.

Here on Terschelling the ferry boats and ships in the harbour sounded their horns for a minute at midnight. Fireworks started shooting off all over the village, so it was a lovely moment of noise and spectacle.

There were signs of pranks all along the street (a good day to hide your bins and lock up your bicycles!), and at every corner people were setting off their own fireworks. Many friends and family members hang out together at home before going out to see the fireworks, and perhaps for some, continuing on to the bars. Everyone we met on the street yelled out "Gelukkig Nieuwjaar" (Happy New Year), even though we didn't know each other.

Fireworks over the harbour, Terschelling

It was a interesting and fun evening of celebration (and in my case, stuffing my face with oliebollen). I love that traditions are still strong in this country. For example, today, New Year's Day, over 10,000 people across the Netherlands ran into the sea for a dip in the water. Brrr!

I wish you all the best for 2014 and hope it is all you hoped for. I know I will endeavour to make it a memorable one.