Dutch Summertime

"Dutch Summertime" seems to have been officially declared this week (even though actual summer began June 21st). I am not entirely sure this is a thing, but it certainly feels like it. Suddenly, there are loads of posters with, "Our last event before summer! See you again in September...". Schools and classes let out last Friday, on July 4th, ushering in summer vacation. My first summer vacation in nearly four years! I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself at first, but if I thought I was going to be lost for something to do, I was wrong. Because, it seems, with the arrival of Dutch summer vacation, the spontaneous comes out in people. I've been having lots of coffee meet ups, rushing off to have barbeques, and enjoying cold lager or ice cream with others without having to plan weeks in advance! (That famous Dutch daily agenda being thrown right out the window...) Very freeing, I must say.

Additionally, with this ushering in of summer, last weekend was absolutely scorching. I haven't been this hot since Mexico, and I was flaking out about the place in a rather pathetic fashion. I don't 'do' heat... It was also a weekend of sport: some cracking tennis at Wimbledon and of course, the football. For one who doesn't play sport, I found I have watched more in the last few weeks than ever before. I'll be honest, my idea of a marathon is watching an entire television series box set or reading a book trilogy over a weekend...

Grote Markt big screen

We watched the match between the Netherlands and Costa Rica in a place called De Drie Gezusters (The Three Sisters) - an infamous pub here in Groningen. I'd never been in before as it is usually packed with undergraduates, but was pleasantly surprised.  It's decked out with potted plants and booths, with a long table down the middle where patrons can read magazines with their coffee. The booths look like something out of a 1930s film, and at the back, just off the bar, it's been made to look like an old fashioned railway carriage. But enough about all that: the match!

Well, we were there until the wee hours, tense and anticipating each try towards the goal. The Netherlands made it through on penalty kicks, which is always slightly miraculous, since there is nothing worse than penalty kicks when it comes to football. The atmosphere was great, everyone wore lots of orange, and from the Grote Markt came the cacophony of revellers for most of the night. There were police everywhere, even on horseback. Not entirely sure what they were expecting...

The semi-final match last night...not so great. Again we were in the pub, watching with mounting tension as the Netherlands took on old rivals, Argentina. I wonder if the Royal household was divided, with Queen Maxima being from Argentina? It went to penalty kicks again, and this time, we weren't so lucky. No revelling in the streets last night. (A bit of sleep at last!)

Arjen Robben (Dutch football player) is Groningen's golden boy

So, with sport aside, I've had a bit more time on my hands for doing...well, nothing. Isn't that what summer is meant to be about? I'm not actually doing nothing of course; writing, playing music at pubs in the evenings, reading, and travel planning have filled most of my days here in the sweltering attic room.

Today, I'd had just about enough of perspiring with every movement, so I took myself to my local bookshop (and when I say local, I mean like a 6 minute walk!) where they have air-con. The second hand section seems to have grown twofold and there was a sale on (a most dangerous mix). Upstairs they have a little café, and its layout reminds me of old American diners with its high counter tops. I was able to have a slice of appeltaart and buy two books, all for less than 6euros, which, lets be honest, is nothing short of a miracle in this day and age. So, feeling very chuffed indeed.

If this is what Dutch summertime is like, bring it on! More ice creams, lagers, music, festivals, and long, lazy afternoons on sun-bleached terraces, please.

Summertime Reading

It is hot. Hot, that is by Netherlands standards: ie, it's 24C (75F) and everyone is in shorts and dresses, drinking beer on terraces, and looking chic in their sunglasses. Tomorrow it is meant to be even hotter. The attic room is setting a course towards sweltering, and I'm sat dreaming of ice creams and lemonade (not together, obviously). And with a weekend of nice weather, playing music, bbqs, and time with friends looming, I'm one happy camper. I love summertime for all the above reasons (yes, even the sweltering...), but most of all, I love summer because it means time for reading.

As a young girl I spent my summers running wild as only one can in the middle of the Colorado mountains. I have extremely fond memories of it all. Equally, I distinctly remember going to the library as soon as summer vacation started to sign up for the Summer Reading Programme. My mother and I would go every week to collect books from the library. I was allowed to take out seven at a time, which I thought was heaps and I dutifully raced through them all each week. The idea of the programme was to log each book you read, and if you reached the goal, at the end you would get a goody pack with a free book based on your reading history, bookmarks, and other random items.

I think about this each summer, and really wish there was a reading programme for those over the age of ten...Can you imagine!? I doubt I'd be racing through seven books a week at this stage, but still, the idea of that voracious reading you do as a child is a pleasant memory. I used to find all sorts of ways to keep reading (usually involving a torch after lights out...), and can remember being sprawled in the most unladylike fashions in chairs, eating ice cream with a nose in my book.

And do you know, I remember all those books - those summertime reads that kept me company as the July rains rolled in across the mountains. I will never forget reading Little Women for the first time and wanting to be just like Jo; or being really chuffed I suffered through The Count of Monte Cristo, even though I doubt I understand half it; or re-reading the first three Harry Potter's (yes, there were only three at that time!), delighting in all things Hogwarts and wizardry. Falling in love with Tarzan of the Apes, and re-reading all of Enid Blyton's stories, wishing I too could go off on cycling holidays with ginger beer and tinned peaches...

So, sitting here, feeling rather hot and sticky in my attic room, with a stretch of free time ahead, and plenty of my old favourites sitting on the bookshelf, I think I shall enrol myself in my very own Summer Reading Programme. I'll be sure to try to sit in unladylike fashions and keep plenty of lemonade to hand (honestly, is there anything better?); I'll read both "trashy" and classic books with untethered glee, and make sure my torches have new batteries. In this rush and madness of the adult world, there are times when escaping with a book is just the ticket.

The Independent, and indeed many other newspapers, have recently released this year's summer reading list, but I shan't read any they suggest. a) Because access to new English books isn't exactly as easy as it used to be and b) they all sound rather odd.

 I would however, be interested to know what YOU are reading this summer. Happy reading!