Groningen: Snow and Sun

It has been far too long since I last posted about Groningen. There has been plenty happening to write about (concerts in Groningen's venues, playing music at local gigs, outings to nearby nature areas, a long holiday for Christmas in Denmark [Jul], and a recent pandemonium in this northern city I call home caused by a wee bit of ice and snow). However, as it often is when things are happening, there isn't nearly enough time to think, let alone write. In addition, being a teacher just eats away the hours. It is wonderful, rewarding, and hugely gratifying, I grant you - but very time-consuming all the same.

Pavement skating in the park

Noorderplantsoen

Snowfall in Groningen

It was back to work (school) again today, and not only was it an early start, but my bicycle lock was frozen shut by the lovely -6 degree Celsius temperature we were having. Walking it would be then... Actually, the first week of January saw me walking a lot in Groningen as well; after our first snow day when classes were cancelled, I found myself stranded the next day on a different campus with buses and trains suddenly stopped as a "code red" was called. I had to walk home on icy pavements. I was lucky I could walk home, in fact, as some of my students were thrown into panic about how to get home to neighbouring provinces (Drenthe and Friesland). People were skating on the iced over roads and pavements, and I even saw a video clip of students engaged in "beer crate curling". Only in the Netherlands!

Today was beautiful, however. I had to walk, but it meant that once I was finished with my first class, I could enjoy the sun and my beautiful city. The sunshine seemed to put everyone in a good mood! As I was taking a photo of the Westerhaven from the bridge, a young chap walked past and said in Dutch that "it will be a good photo!" which I thought was very nice. The ships and canal were certainly beautiful! Then, a bit further down the road as I stopped to take a photo again, another man grinned at me and said, "Mooi, hé?" which translates to "Nice, isn't it?" Goodness, what a change in outlook to the previous snow fall. The city was abuzz with a good feeling, even though it was Monday morning and below freezing. Can the sun shine more often, please?

Dreaming of Vacation

The first week back to work and teaching is under my belt, and it is hard not to let my thoughts stray back to the summer vacation. It's 26C (79F) most days, the sun is shining in a gorgeous blue sky, and my mind keeps saying, "Yes, but...it still feels like summer!"

Bateman's - Rudyard Kipling's former home

The vacation was much needed after a hectic semester, and being able to relax and put my mind to other things than comma rules, infinitives, or the continuous tense was, in a word, bliss. Not that the vacation was all sleeping in until 11 and long afternoons in the sun: there was moving into a new place, assembling Ikea furniture, and realising that I really do have more things that I had imagined. But once the move was made, it was off on the road!

Highclere Castle

 The first few weeks of the vacation were spent on the English south coast. I managed to fit in some research for a writing project in between sightseeing and getting my fill of pub lunches. There was camping involved, which, after nearly 15 years of avoiding, was a slight shock to the system. Getting in and out of a tent (and up and down off the ground, for that matter) seemed much simpler 15 years ago... The rain chased us out of that idea, and I was left with the thought, "Well, we did try at least." Seeing Bateman's, Rudyard Kipling's former home, and Greenway, Agatha Christie's former home, were probably the two highlights of the trip. I also really enjoyed seeing Highclere Castle, where Downton Abbey was filmed. Before I knew it, two weeks had passed, and it was goodbye pub grub and access to shortbread. I stocked up on the necessities like shortbread, tea, and Boots products before leaving. Can you believe that shortbread is nigh impossible to find in Groningen!?

Himmelbjerget, Denmark

The second half of the vacation was spent in Denmark. I retreat to Scandinavia most summers, though often to Sweden, so it was nice to see more of a country I'd only been to a few times. I stayed in Jutland (called the real Denmark by those there - "Copenhagen" is like a swear word and involves eye rolling when said...). Jutland is beautiful in many ways: rolling hills of wheat that move north to dark pine forests and long white sand beaches. Århus and Ålborg are wonderfully Scandinavian cities in which to lose oneself, with lots of cute cafes and trendy places to shop. I was astonished to learn that the entire population of Denmark is about a third of the Netherlands. In fact, I shouldn't be writing about how wonderful the country is; I should be saying it's awful so that it doesn't become overcrowded!

Skagen

While the cities were interesting, as were the bunkers from WWII and their history, it was the nature that captured my attention. The beaches of the north specifically caught my eye. It felt remote and wild in some ways, which I liked. The pine forests and white sand reminded me fondly of Terschelling, and it felt like coming home. Skagen (pronounced "Skain") was particularly beautiful, and I very much enjoyed standing at the top tip of Denmark where the two seas meet. Its wild landscape was once a haven for artists, and seeing the most famous paintings of that time (1890s) collected in a gallery there was such a delight. The paintings reminded me of the Cornish painters of the Newlyn school ilk. Some of my favourites were by P.S. Krøyer.

Viking site: Lindholm Høje

Den Tilsandede Kirke

Unlike in England, the weather was gorgeous everyday, and the trip became a glorious mix of museums and culture, such as visiting Viking sites like Lindholm Høje, Aggersborg or Fyrkat, eating good food, and soaking up the sunshine in pristine nature. Skagen was certainly a highlight, as was seeing Den Tilsandede Kirke (the Sanded Church). The north of Denmark really is a place to lose oneself in beautiful landscapes and history.

It was a wonderful holiday away, and now, I must do my best to focus on work. However, the memories of the holiday will keep me going until the next time I can hit the road!

Melting, Moving, and Making steps

Phew! Is it hot in here or what? That's right, folks, you have indeed read the thermometer correctly: Groningen experienced 36 degrees Celsius recently (96F), which, without trying to sound like I'm complaining, is a bit much. I have been teaching summer school (three days to go, not that I'm counting or anything), and am so grateful that we have been put in the new wing with Air Con. It keeps the students awake, too, which is always a plus.

In addition to teaching, I am saying goodbye to the attic room (which in 36C is really not funny), as I have been fortunate enough to find a nice little place a bit further out from the city centre near to the park. It has been a slow and steady progression of boxes and sorting, moments of "when on earth did I get this?", and heaving stuff down two flights of the steepest stairs known to mankind (have I mentioned The Stairs of Death before?) only to haul them up another two flights of normal stairs. I somehow managed to get a small set of drawers up the stairs, and thought I might indeed melt onto my new hardwood floor from the heat. Needless to say, all other haulage has now been conducted after 7pm.

While I'm looking forward to the new place very much, I do feel slightly sad to be leaving this old attic room. It has character and a certain cosiness, and I have had a lot of nice memories here (if we forget about the mouse incident). I have written a lot here, both fiction and music, and when I look around the place it hits me that this was my first home in the Netherlands, and therefore will always be rather special.

I must say, however, that moving 1.3km (.8 of a mile) is by far the shortest distance I have ever moved in my life, and it is certainly massively easier than moving countries! I have moved countries multiple times, and would do so again, but being able to move just down the road is some kind of bliss. I have even stocked the new fridge with beer to help ease the process.

It is exciting to start on a new chapter in a new place. In the past, that has often involved me moving to another part of the world, across oceans, or finding myself in the midst of a new culture. Now, I merely have a new neighbourhood to explore, and Groningen's large park, the Noorderplantsoen, at my feet to stroll through on long summer evenings or enjoy a drink on a terrace by the fountain. A very exciting start to the summer holidays!

Moving day!

Market Meandering

Ahh, Saturdays! Time to sleep in (or in Dutch: "sleep out"- uitslapen); time to read quietly over a big cup of tea or attempt to do a crossword; time to do things around the house or in the kitchen; time, in fact, to do those small things that the rush of the day to day seem to make impossible. And here we come down to it: time. It has been a busy, hectic, and altogether manic spring with teaching five days a week at full steam, marking half incomprehensible essays, and generally going a bit cross eyed. At last the students are busy with their exams, and I've had a chance to recoup a bit and find pleasure in those small things.

My favourite thing about Saturdays besides the above is also putting the radio on and listening to both music and chat from the BBC (some days better than others), and going down to Groningen's Vismarkt to poke about the stalls a bit and buy fresh produce. Today was such a day, with the added bonus (danger?) of finding a second hand bookshop I'd never been to before. I managed to find three paperbacks (Robert Goddard, if you must know, and whom I highly recommend for a good summer read) for 4 euros, which felt extra nice because the chap stocking the books refused to sell me only two books when I could get three for the same price. Now that is my kind of book salesman! I should hate to disregard a good bargain. My bookshelves, however, are beginning to protest...

Vismarkt, Groningen

After this, and feeling rather pleased, I went to the market to wander around a bit and pick up my usual fresh produce. What I like about the market is that it offers not only fresh supplies, but the people working the stalls know their products well and can help you find just the right cheese to take home for a Saturday evening, or can explain just what went into the biscuits made from local honey and so on. I like the atmosphere: the press of people, from frazzled young mothers to old grannies with baskets on their arms; the young couple deliberating over just which fish they should buy in for their parent's visit the next day; the shouts of the stall owners "three avocados for an euro!" "Get your strawberries here!" "Who is next? Who can I help?" The bustle and buzz of the place is so gezellig (a wonderful Dutch word that has no equivalent in English, and the closest thing would be the word "cosy"). It is very alive and busy.

I enjoy walking down towards the end of the market where the fishmongers are; they bring the smell of the sea with them, and I find it curious to see the slimy things with eyes or claws encased in ice. I don't particularly like eating fish, so I tend to observe these stalls with a polite curiosity and slight morbid fascination. It is haring (herring) season at the moment, so there were many stalls set up just for this purpose. It is a Dutch delicacy that I have not yet been brave enough to try. I don't much like fish anyway, and raw fish is certainly not my first choice off any menu. (Ok, actually the hering is salted, or "soused", but still...) It is a popular snack, however, and the herring is often served on a bit of bread with onions or pickles, or eaten by holding it by the tail and letting it slide down one's gullet. Appetising, eh? Well, apparently, as there were queues all over the place for fresh herring. It is the best moment of the season just now, so the vishandels are very busy.

Broodje haring

Yes, going to the market and buying produce from those who know all there is to know about potatoes or cheese or fish is a pleasant thing; it is nice to catch the stall owner's eye and share a smile or small chat over the counter, or to go with a pocketful of coins and walk home with having spent less than 10 euros on fresh food. I like the atmosphere and unique, almost old fashioned quality. It certainly beats standing in the queue in a supermarket. There is something to be said about that interaction and being able to see what it is we are eating up close, rather than packaged away behind plastic or cardboard.

I bought my usual appelflap pastry treat (it's Saturday after all!), and a whole grilled chicken, the carcass of which is currently boiling pleasantly in the kitchen to make stock from later, and lots of vegetables. The avocados were at a nearly crazy discounted price of four for 50 euro cents. Must have hit the market at just the right moment!

Whatever your Saturday schedule is, perhaps think about heading down to your local markets if you have one. The experience is more than just buying food; it is also about making a brief connection with those who provide us with what we choose to nourish ourselves with. Happy Saturday!

Groningen's Liberation: 70 Years Commemoration

Re-enactment in the Grote Markt

The last few weeks have marked and commemorated some memorable anniversaries. In April, Groningen saw a re-enactment of the Battle of Groningen, which took place in 1945 from April 13 - 16. I continue to find it fascinating to live in a country that was once occupied and which takes the commemoration of liberation quite seriously. What also strikes me, as I've mentioned in previous posts, is the openness in regard to reconciliation. It is truly inspiring and encouraging.

May 4th and 5th are also important days: Dodenherdenking or the Remembrance of the dead, and Bevrijdingsdag or Liberation Day. What is particularly striking this year, however, is that it is 70 years since the end of the war in Europe. Seventy years. (And remember last year was 100 years since the start of the Great War!) That is really no time at all. People still remember the Second World War - members of my own family, for instance. In the span of time, it is not so long ago, and the memories, painful ones as well as others, can still be felt and recognised. This is why reconciliation is so important; we must continue to come together in remembering so that such things may never happen again.

Allied tanks

WWII Memorabilia

The the re-enactment on April 12 in the Grote Markt was both interesting and moving. There was a vetran there from Canada who had fought in the Battle of Groningen, and also an older lady who was just a child at the time and remembers the liberation of the city of Groningen. In addition to the re-enactment (rather exciting with tanks and "explosions"!) there was also real footage being played out on a screen. Unbelievable to both hear and see the play-by-play of what happened in 1945. There was also a map we could follow - "De Sporen van de bevrijding" (trail of liberation) which took us to different points of interest around the city: they included four on my very street, one being where the SS interrogated people, and another where the officers lived! There was also a display with memorabilia at the library which was quite interesting to see.

Following the footsteps...

And now, as we move into the month of May, countries all across Europe are commemorating the end of the war. Today, May 4th, saw services of remembrance all across the city of Groningen: at church yards, memorials, and along the streets themselves. At the Martinikerkhof (Martini churchyard) there was a remembrance service this evening with music, the chiming of the Martini clock bells, the placing of wreaths and flowers at the foot of the St. Joris monument, and, of course, a two minute silence at 8pm. The Last Post was played, which always make me rather emotional, then we were silent for two minutes before the band played the national anthem, Wilhelmus. A quite old man beside me pulled off his flat cap in such a reverent, old fashioned way; it occurred to me only then that he had probably been old enough to remember when his country had been liberated seventy years before. Around me there was a mere murmur of words of the anthem (myself included), but as the song went on the voices grew, and the crescendo seemed to reach a peak at the line, "Een Prinse van Oranje". I began to blub, as per usual when it comes to national anthems and such. It was an incredibly moving moment: an entire churchyard of the very young to the very old; veterans, government ministers, religious and community leaders, and everyone in between, all singing together and remembering those who died.

Dodenherdenking

May 5th is the commemoration of Liberation Day; this year it is a national holiday, and there will be events all throughout the day, including a music festival. I think back to all the family stories about the liberation (which for my family on the island of Terschelling came quite a few days later than on the mainland) and marvel still at the hardships and sacrifices that were made. I find it fascinating, of course, as it is my own family history, but I also find it inspiring to think about the strength and determination shown by the allied troops within Holland, as well as the Dutch people. We live in a world that continues to see its fair share of horrors, and I only hope that we will still come together in these times to combat issues and show a similar determination to overcome things that are unacceptable.

Flag at half mast

In my travels around the world, I have yet to come across a place that has been untouched by either of the world wars, and for some, the conflicts that came after. The memories still linger in some of these places in an almost surprising way, and again I am overwhelmed by the fact that is is merely seventy years ago that the war ended in Europe. I am glad to have been a part of remembering, and am, as ever, hopeful about the reconciliation that continues.

Wreaths and flowers

Here is a link that has some details about the liberation in the Netherlands, including some interesting photos.

   

Places of Song: Groningen and Cambridge

The bells in the Martinitoren are ringing quite gustily this morning; more so than usual. There are 62 bells connected to the carillon, and as I live not 200 metres away, it means that when the wind is in the right direction, the bells are very loud. It is Palm Sunday today, of course, which is why the bells are more vigorous than usual. The tower of the Martinikerk is iconic here in Groningen, as well it should be. It is a beautiful and impressive structure. Groningen's other well known church is Der Aa Kerk, which has a rather magnificent organ. There are quite a few beautiful churches here, actually.

Martinikerk

My thoughts tend to run towards churches and cathedrals at this time of year. As Holy Week begins, it is a busy (if not hectic) time for these places. Last year, Groningen played host to the Easter musical spectacle, The Passion. While Groningen will be a bit quieter this year, there will still be many concerts in the churches, namely Bach's famous oratorio, "St Matthew's Passion", and "The Crucifixion" by John Stainer. Both are beautiful, and Bach's music is especially pleasant (though my attention does tend to wander as all the singing is in German).

Inside the Martinikerk

Easter is a particularly important time for religious institutions and their parishioners. It is also a time of hope with the arrival of spring and warmer weather; in some places it means a long weekend; in other quarters, the holiday is merely an inconvenience, with public transport or openings hours pared down to bare minimum. And for others still, it is just a time to break into the chocolate.

King's College Chapel from the River Cam

When I lived in Cambridge, this time of year was lovely. The flowers blooming, the promise of warm, lazy days by the River Cam...and Easter. The Easter service at King's College Chapel (iconic for Cambridge) is nearly as famous as the Christmas Eve Carol service. The crowds are huge, and the queues begin early as it is so popular. In fact, during Holy Week, the concerts and services all across the Cambridge colleges and churches are magnificent. Religious significance aside, the music is truly wonderful to listen to. The music is so steeped in history, and there is nothing quite like listening to such powerful pieces in spaces they were designed to be heard. The great organ in King's College Chapel, for instance, is quite breathtaking in accordance with the boys' choir.

Top of the organ and the fan vault

This is perhaps one of the few things I miss about my old city; I often enjoyed going to listen to the choir at King's. It always felt such a privilege, which of course it was, really. To hear those young boys' voices rise up to the fan vaulted ceiling (the largest in the world) was quite humbling; a reminder of the beauty of innocence.

I know little about these iconic structures; I couldn't explain the hows and whys of the naves or transepts or chancels. But they are beautiful and acoustically perfect for the music of this time of year. In our world, in these troubled times, perhaps acknowledging the beauty of voices raised in song in places of fellowship is worth something.

Stain glass inside the Chapel

King's College Chapel from
inside the college

Taking in the Present Moment

There are times when I sit down at the end of the day and think "I really should write on the blog"... and yet I feel I have nothing to say. Which, of course, isn't at all true! This is a benefit of living as an expat: there is always something that comes up. There are new adventures to be had everyday. But even so, between work, social commitments, coming down with colds passed on from my students, visiting family, and trying to stick to some sort of writing schedule...well, it's easy to see how the blog can simply be forgotten.

It is quite easy to be caught up in the daily hectic rush; finding time (or making time) for things can be a challenge. Not too long ago, I was riding my bicycle to a friend's place just north of the city centre; it was a beautiful evening and the bicycle path ran right along the canal. I was struck by the peacefulness of that brief moment when day slips away into evening: long shadows rushing in to capture the remnants of the day. I always find that moment rather wistful. It's the end of another day, and I tend to look back a bit on what has been accomplished (or what hasn't been, as the case may be). It's when I start making lists for the next day. But on this bicycle ride, I put all that away and thought just about that moment. I felt the cold air of February nipping at my exposed skin on my face; felt it sneaking in over my collar. The sky was awash with pink and red, and along the canal you could hear the lapping of the water, and birds singing somewhere. Although still in the city, that moment was truly peaceful. The dying of the day... there is something rather magical, yet sad about it.

Evening in Groningen

It was nice to be reminded that sometimes we just need to take in the present moment. I wonder if we do it enough?

It's now the end of another day, and I find myself looking back to last year. Is it really only a year since I began one of the greatest adventures? I was taking a course, experiencing an early spring "heatwave" (certainly not the case at this moment!), and making ready to start my dream job. The time has flown by in the most wonderful way, and I have learnt and experienced so much. But even after a year or more here, I am glad there are still new things thrown my way that I can appreciate. For example, this week I had to do my Dutch taxes. I was lucky that mine weren't overly complicated; however, it wasn't the most fun I've had of an evening (taxes in a foreign language is not high on my list of invigorating activities...), but it was definitely a new experience.

I suppose it is good that there are new challenges to keep me on my toes! Having been here a year also means that there are things to look forward to again, such as boekenweek. I can hardly wait to nip down to the bookshop to choose a new Dutch book and receive a free one with it; this free book will also allow me to travel for no cost on the following Sunday. (And let's be honest, anything free in the Netherlands is something to celebrate. That it has to do with books, well, even better!). Then there's King's Day and Liberation Day... and the spring and summer to follow. Quite exciting, when you stop to think about it. Warm days, beers on cafe terraces with friends, reading in the park, evenings that stay light for ages... whizzing about Europe on long weekends... I can't wait. 

There is something quite satisfying in looking back and seeing how far one has come. For myself, I just can't believe how lucky I am: I get to wake up every day and do what I love (though some mornings I really wouldn't mind staying in bed for another hour...).

At the risk of sounding like a motivational poster, please go live your dreams, folks. Get out there and make your dreams come true. I couldn't imagine living any other way.