Three years and counting

On Wednesday I celebrated three years of living in the wonderful city of Groningen! It was somewhat of a shock to realise that three years had passed so quickly, seemingly without me noticing. The day-to-day routine moves on with only slight alterations due to holidays and travel, and suddenly it's three years later. I suppose living in a great city, doing a job I love, and travelling helps time move along.

It was fun to think back on when I first moved into the attic room, up those "stairs of death" and got myself situated into a new country and new place. It was nice to think about how much has changed and how much I've grown - not only personally, but in my career, too. I'm currently at a crossroads when many things are changing (in good ways), and that always tends to leave me rather reflective. It's an exciting time, if not a bit busy, and I'm glad to be here in this lovely city with spring just around the corner.

So, after three years, what do I have to offer about Groningen? Here are some of my recommendations (and favourite places):

The Noorderplantsoen is the place to be to enjoy a slice of nature in the city. There is also a little cafe in the middle where you can watch the world go by. I  try go to the park nearly as much as I go to work to create a nice balance!

Autumn in the park

Frozen pond in the park

The Vismarkt is certainly worth a visit on market days...plus, you can eat your way around it as well as buy flowers or vegetables! It is a different way of shopping for your weekly groceries. I don't get here nearly enough! The stalls are always exciting, and the people who look after them are very friendly.

Vismarkt

Bulbs at the market

The Martinikerk and toren are both beautiful and iconic. They are nice to visit (or walk past) and if you go to the top of the tower on a clear day you can see quite far (being in a flat country and all...). I can see this tower from home, which is really lovely and makes me feel I truly am living in the city.

Inside the church

Martini Tower

Lastly, I would recommend trying to eat at cafes and trendy places (the city is overflowing with them). It is hard to give specific recommendations because I don't have a favourite and they all provide something new to try. The Dutch cuisine can be peculiar at times (especially the raw herring...) but Groningen has its array of gezellig (cosy) cafes and bars. If you like cake (which I do!) Toet is an excellent place to go for homemade baked goods and gluten free options.

I've moved around a lot and seen plenty of places in this world, but I think Groningen holds a special place in my heart. There is a vibe here that is relaxed and pleasant, yet it is enough of a city that you can go out at 1 a.m. to find something to eat. Groningen is often forgotten after the likes of Amsterdam and Utrecht or even Leiden as a student city, but I think it has a lot to offer. Life is good here in the north of the Netherlands!

A frosty Academy building in the heart of Groningen

Springtime in Groningen

It is the nearly the end of May, yet I feel I'm still stuck somewhere in March. Time flies when you are having fun, so the saying goes, and aren't I just! In February I travelled over 5,000km; in March I travelled within the Netherlands, before escaping on a week long holiday up north; and in April, the fourth block of university began, which is our busiest, yet I still managed to nip away for a few weekends. It was rather a relief when May hit, as we had a few national holidays that meant long weekends (full of marking and travelling). Now, June promises to quiet down as exams take place and the long wind down to summer begins. 2016 has gotten off to a rather hectic start!

While the pile of essays to be graded teeters over my head, I took this weekend to relax and ignore anything to do with comma splices or non-academic word usage. The weather has finally become warmer once more, and so, in an endeavour to complete my to-do list, I went into town for chores and to soak up the atmosphere a bit. There is a kermis or carnival/fair going on at the moment, so the city is loud and busy. I cycled home through the city for a change the other evening after teaching and suddenly realised we have two massive new shops that have opened. How had I missed that?

Saturday was a mission, therefore, to inspect and suss out what I'd been missing in my lovely city. The Saturday market was in full steam, too, in addition to the kermis, and to say the city was buzzing would be an understatement. I found an oliebollen stand pretty quickly and was in seventh heaven; I explored the new shops, and browsed the market stalls while being deafened by the kermis.

After two years here in Groningen, I find that I have a deep fondness for it. There is something special here. Whenever I arrive at the train station, I feel at home again after my travels. Like the 'slogan' for the city says er gaat niets boven Groningen (literal translation: nothing goes higher than Groningen; meaning: nothing beats Groningen). It was lovely to reconnect not only with myself a bit, but also the city I call home. Besides, any day that includes munching on oliebollen is a good one!

To share the lovely spring with you, here are some photos from the last few weeks in Groningen:

Flowers in the park

Blue skies at last in town

Sun catching the fountain

King's Day celebrations

Sunset in the park

Sunday afternoon by the pond

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?

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.

A Year in Groningen

On the first of February last year I moved to Groningen, hauling all my bits and pieces from the island of Terschelling, and thankfully being helped by my landlord and his son to hump it up the two flights of ridiculously steep stairs (ie: the stairs of death). It has been an interesting year - a fantastic year in many ways, and always an adventure. I've met many nice people, somehow landed my dream job, which was both exhilarating and terrifying, and have been able to properly experience city living.

Groningen is a wonderful city in that it is the capital of the north, yet still has the ability to feel like a market town. It is vibrant, terrifically international, full of culture, music, and lazy terraces for those warm summer days. Personally, it suits me well because it isn't too huge, as I'm a country girl at heart, and while it has everything you could possible want (besides an airport with more than three destinations), it doesn't have the mad rush of true metropolitan places. It has character and style.

Which brings me to my next point: the attic room. I can distinctly remember (and my journal entries back me up on this) sitting down after unpacking and thinking, "Well, it's only for a year." I don't mean to complain, as it is a charming place to live and is only a stone's throw from the heart of the city, and came furnished with the wonders of Ikea. It has also allowed me to have a creative sort of bubble, high up under the rafters, playing music and writing. I've written more here than ever before, which is immensely satisfying.

However. The attic room, at the top of the stairs of death, is sweltering in summer and freezing in winter. As I type this, my fingers are veritable blocks of ice from the rather impressive draught that is whooshing through the room. There is still a rather odd smell coming from the drain of the washbasin that no one has been able to figure out. When it rains hard (as it is doing now), the sound is almost deafening, as is the noise from the street below and the occasional helicopter speeding towards the hospital at the end of the road. I've begun wearing earplugs. During the winter months I've been battling the presence of mice in the walls - pest control in a foreign language is certainly an experience, let me tell you.

This now brings me to my next little tid bit: I celebrated yesterday's "One Year in Groningen Anniversary" with a chocolate muffin, a bout of writing, and searching casually for a new place to live. I went to bed in a positive mood, and was enjoying my book (third instalment of Stephen Fry's memoirs) when I heard a scuffling sort of sound. This is not by any means unusual - just mice moving from one part of the wall to another. I've never seen them, just heard them. Well, there I was, minding my own business reading my book, when from the corner of my eye I saw a movement above me: there is a small gap between the beam of the rafter and the wall, and a little mouse was peeking out. This was right above my bed, and had the dear little terrifying creature missed a step, it would have fallen right into my lap.

It saw me and was gone with a flick of its tail, but not before I leapt from my bed, saying something very unladylike at the top of my lungs. Not quite the excitement I would like at quarter past twelve on a Sunday, to be honest. After a bit more scuffling and stream of further unladylike oaths, it was gone. Or so I hoped. Trying to be practical and calm my heart rate, I sat on the edge of my bed, reasoning that it was highly unlikely Mr Mouse was going to return in the dead of night and abseil down, Mission Impossible style, to see if I was good to eat. Though having read Mrs Frisby and the Rats of NIMH as a child, anything seems possible in the middle of the night.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep very well. My students suggested tinfoil to stop up any gaps, as the mice can't chew it. I think they would know, as the state of most student houses would be paradise to vermin. I shall buy reams of the stuff today and perhaps some duct tape. No more gaps means no more mice...right?

Throughout this first year in Groningen, whenever I've begun grumbling about my place, I try to remind myself that it has character: the house is from 1896; it's by the canal; I can walk wherever I need to go. It's much more interesting than some modern flat that has been churned out for some housing estate.

To be quite frank, I think my nerves have had rather enough of character for the time being... 

Snow in Groningen

At last! It has snowed here in Groningen! Only a few inches and most traces are already gone after 24 hours, but still. Waking up on Saturday morning to see snow outside was just magical. I'm not sure why seeing freshly fallen snow turns me into a five year old, but there we are. After spending years in Colorado where the snow can be on the ground for five months or more, I might be asking myself why I even still find fascination with the white stuff. I think I still find the transformative aspect of it appealing. I didn't have to go anywhere, which certainly helped in finding it delightful. Here are some photos from Saturday morning in the city centre:

Grote Markt

Look out, these fruits are frosty!

Vismarkt

Martinikerkhof

Provinciehuis

Terschelling's Bunkers

It is a strange business to wander around derelict remains of a war. It is, however, a common occurrence for someone like me who relishes all things about history, particularly WWII. It's just so interesting. Towards the end of the holiday, just after new year, the weather was surprisingly mild so we took a little jaunt to enjoy the day. Having had a most interesting discussion the previous week with a man who is working on a project to restore Terschelling's war bunkers, we went to have a look at the work they've been doing.

A small bunker in the dune

 I've mentioned the bunkers briefly in a previous post, but I'd like to take a deeper look. I have spent long summer days exploring these bunkers - there are roughly 90 still remaining on the island. They have, over the years, been filled in or boarded up for safety, and the ever changing landscape of sand has reclaimed many. Underneath the sand, however, is an entire warren of bunkers. Many of the bits that do stick out up above the sand have been grafittied to an inch, and open bits of the old gun or light turrets have been filled with careless garbage, which is a real shame.

One of my favourite summer (or any season, if I'm entirely honest) activities is "bunker hunting". As I mentioned, the sand is always moving and after each big storm, sometimes a bit more can be seen. I wish I was twenty years younger at those moments: can you imagine!? Playing at Famous Five in real bunkers and possible secret passageways!

Tiger Complex

After the war was over and the occupying forces had left, people wanted to forget and rid themselves of the reminders. And quite naturally too. Five years of occupation, on a small island less than 20 miles long, was no picnic. Things were dismantled, mines removed, and so on. The bunkers and anti aircraft batteries were built by Terschellinger hands, so though we may call them the "German bunkers", they are in many ways a part of the island. I believe there is one man still living on the island who was a part of the building team.

Obviously, they are built high on top of the dunes to have the best vantage points. The largest of these bunkers is now in the midst of a wood that has grown up around it, but in the '40s, it had a clear view out to sea. This set of bunkers, called the Tiger complex, is the focal point of the project that is currently going on to restore and reopen the bunkers.

The work that has been done to push back the sand and make the bunkers safe is quite astounding. It was all under sand, and now look at it! Inside there are two floors; it was where they kept track of aircraft movements (vliegtuigbeweging). Nearby was a canteen and a commando bunker. Huge amounts of radar equipment were also housed here. It is truly quite remarkable when you see some of the old photos and blueprints.

Tiger

The complex is massive - all through the woods you stumble (at times, literally) over another bit of evidence. I am very much looking forward to when the project is complete and we can go inside. It is important that this history is not forgotten. Here is a link that has some old photos to give you an idea of what it was like.

On my quest to find out more about the island's war history, I've talked to people and asked at the local museum, but there is very little information to be had. My family's own stories are fascinating - full of enough intrigue to fill many pages no doubt.

But I think my generation is desperate to remember a time that older generations wish to forget...

Top part of a commando bunker

A Year of Oliebollen

One of the advantages of living in a new country is experiencing new foods. While I've had most traditional Dutch dishes (except herring because I can't stand the thought of it), there was one I had never had before: oliebollen. This treat is hugely popular during the Christmas and new year period. I had one for the first time just before Christmas last year and absolutely LOVED it.

Groningen's Oliebollen stall

Oliebollen are basically round balls of dough with raisins or cranberries fried in oil then covered with powdered sugar. In Groningen, on the Grote Markt, a wonderful oliebollen stall was set up at the end of November. Which meant, of course, that each time I went past on my way home from work or the shops that I indulged in one or two. Still warm from the oil and covered with powdered sugar...so good!

To make at home!

Unfortunately, I caught a rather horrible 'flu and missed out on oliebollen for most of the month of December. I couldn't believe it - of all times to catch an illness...right when oliebollen are readily available at the end of my street! I've recently regained my appetite, thank goodness, and went immediately to the baker's and stocked up on oliebollen, appelflappen (apple turnovers), and appelbeignets (like apple filled donuts). Some people make these at home, but you can also buy them from the shops. The baker on Terschelling has a special stall open on New Year's Eve, and the queue forms quickly as they are particularly yummy with the island's speciality of cranberries.  

Stocking up on oliebollen

Last year I was lamenting the fact that oliebollen were only available at this time of year. How could something so tasty only come round once a year!? However, I luckily discovered that whenever the kermis (carnival/fair) came to Groningen, there was also a stall with oliebollen. I was so overjoyed! So, throughout the year of 2014 I've been able to enjoy this tasty Dutch treat.

Oliebollen w/ powdered sugar

I suppose that because they aren't readily available whenever the fancy strikes makes them that more special. I've got an entire bag full to enjoy as we bring in the new year and I'm very much looking forward to it!

Happy New Year, everyone - I hope you enjoy your own tasty treats this evening!