What a difference a day (or two) makes...

I've used that title before - but warrants repeating!!

I am home, in bed, early morning, flanked by Tabby and Van and listening to the silence (you are right PG, in the earlier hours it was total). Such a contrast with the past seven weeks.

My last day in Rijswijk saw Lauren and Merel returning from their UK holiday and our lunching together before they kindly took me up to Schipol Airport. Very sad to farewell the cats, the house, the street and, most especially, Lauren and Merel whose friendship I will treasure. 'He tangata, he tangata, he tangata' took on a whole new meaning on this trip. 

Amsterdam to Frankfurt. Late arrival and a speedy transit to boarding area for Frankfurt to Singapore leg. In Changi airport, time for the luxury of a shower - sufficient to keep me going for the final, Singapore to Christchurch haul.

[Reminder to self - this should be the last time I fly straight through without a stopover!!]

Lovely to see Claire at the airport on a sunny, mild Christchurch morning. A stop-off to see Claire's Auntie Joy and Uncle John then back to Earl Street ('hi' to Gen and Luuk) before picking up some essential supplies and heading over the hill. I would like to be able to say that my return was full of the peace and beauty of the harbour on a lovely, sunny, almost Spring day. Unfortunately the heavy rain has wreaked some havoc. Inside, rain has clearly come in through windows - saturated and significantly stained carpet. Outside, at the bottom of the section ... well the 'bottom' isn't quite there any more -   two sizeable slips mean that some of my section is much closer to the foreshore track than previously!!  And more is likely to go. Emma hadn't picked up any of this - maybe it was good that I was unaware while away. On top of the travel tiredness it felt a bit overwhelming yesterday. This morning - well, that's life isn't it - we just deal with it.

For me travelling is a necessary part of living. It is about pushing my comfort zone, learning about new places and people, experiencing the rich diversity of the world. I love hearing every possible language - bar English. While this trip was not China or Cambodia or Korea or Israel (some previous destinations), it had its challenges and its down times. But I can honestly say it was a wonderful experience. Just very, very special. I leave behind some new friends - Mozza, Rebecca, Lauren, Merel, Jaap, Gerda, Raymond - and reconnections with old friends - Lily and Les, Jenny, Deidre, Tony and Ruth, Christine and Marjorie. 

I was going to write a post that collected up some of the small things that have dropped through the cracks. I will have to do it soon, knowing how quickly the experience recedes, overwhelmed by the 'other' life (all the one life, but you know what I mean). Maybe tomorrow morning - maybe not...

In case not, to those of you who have taken the journey with me, thank you for your presence, whether silent or conversational. I was always surprised to find readers on the other end and have much appreciated the comments; also the support at times when I was weary. The recording of the days' events is a part of the travel experience for me (once it was letters/diary) and it is nice that modern technology enables such sharing.

Whether there is a final post or not, thank you all :-)))

Saying 'goodbye' to friends...

Lasse...

Nina...

Benjamin(a)...

Lauren and Merel...

XXXXX

Returning...

My last morning in Rijswijk. I'm sitting in bed (still dark outside) with the doors to the balcony open, listening to the traffic sounds and surrounded by the detritus of packing. I'm sad to be leaving. My time here - and in the UK - has been special. I have felt very 'at home' in this house and neighbourhood. 

Today Lauren and Merel return from Calais about midday so we will be able to have lunch together and a catch-up. Then up to Amsterdam for me from where I fly to Frankfurt and then Singapore - Christchurch. To resume 'normal' life and responsibilities. Hmmm....

Amsterdam again...

Train up to Amsterdam yesterday. Part of me felt almost too tired to tackle what I knew would be the busy-ness of Amsterdam (seven weeks of constant exploring, navigating, absorbing, walking, walking...takes its toll) but I felt I couldn't leave Holland without returning to Amsterdam - my first visit (this time round) having been focused solely on the galleries.

So I fled the hoards of tourists around the palatial Amsterdam Centraal Station and the medieval Old Centre and wandered the canals and side streets of the Canal Ring. The Canal Ring is on UNESCO's World Heritage List as an area of 'outstanding value'

The historic urban ensemble of the canal district of Amsterdam was a project for a new ‘port city’ built at the end of the 16th and beginning of the 17th centuries. It comprises a network of canals to the west and south of the historic old town and the medieval port that encircled the old town and was accompanied by the repositioning inland of the city’s fortified boundaries, the Singelgracht. This was a long-term programme that involved extending the city by draining the swampland, using a system of canals in concentric arcs and filling in the intermediate spaces. These spaces allowed the development of a homogeneous urban ensemble including gabled houses and numerous monuments. This urban extension was the largest and most homogeneous of its time. It was a model of large-scale town planning, and served as a reference throughout the world until the 19th century.

It is difficult to do justice to in photos and I found myself looking for details...

Note the hooks projecting from the top stories. 

Elderly gent sitting on his steps, smoking a cigar and watching the world go by

I went into the Begijnhof.

This enclosed former convent dates from the early 14th century. It’s a surreal oasis of peace, with tiny houses and postage-stamp gardens around a well-kept courtyard. The Beguines were a Catholic order of unmarried or widowed women who cared for the elderly and lived a religious life without taking monastic vows. The last true Beguines died in the 1970s.

Enclosed entrance

Always, however, it comes back to the water...and the bikes...and the gables...

You would need weeks, months, to explore Amsterdam properly and my photos don't do justice in any way to its magnificence. Just a taste...

From Delft...

From a later afternoon, quick trip to Delft the other day...

And no, I haven't 'posed' these pictures. It really was just like this.

Nieuwe Kerk concert...

Yesterday a lunchtime concert in Nieuwe Kerk (mid 17C), now a central-city concert venue known as Prinses Christina Concours. Miyu Haraguchi (14 yrs old) played Schubert and Debussy, and Lena ter Schegget (15 yrs) on violin and Kanako Inoue on piano, played Elgar. Performances of astonishing confidence, technical proficiency and emotional depth which brought a standing ovation from the audience. I went with Raymond, who lives diagonally across Bilderdijklaan from Lauren and Merel, and afterwards we had coffee and apple tart (what else?) on the Lange Voorhout, lovely under the trees in fine weather and with surprisingly few people about. Raymond, it tuns out, was, until recently, Director of Research and Policy at the Ministry of Defence. Oooh, I had to suppress all sorts of political questions - well, I asked a few but so much wanted to know more. People are endlessly fascinating and the world full of surprise :-) 

Nieuwe Kerk today

Heemstede - Haarlem by bike...

Here I am (on the bridge), ready to take on any Olympic medalist... 

Yesterday was very special. I caught the train from Holland Spoor to Heemstade where I was met by Jaap and Gerda, Merel's parents. We went back to their lovely home for coffee and apple cake (to celebrate Merel's birthday of the previous day) and then set off to bike to Haarlem. I had no idea this was planned! Fortunately the day was a little cooler - perfect for cycling. I got to experience an 'upright bike' and the privileged position afforded to cyclists on Dutch roads. The countryside we biked through was just beautiful - farms, canals, old woods - impossible to do  justice to photographically (especially while on the bike).

19C pumping station for draining a polder

Gerda and Jaap ahead

We biked into Haarlem, secured our bikes in a 'bike-park' and had lunch in the city centre, by the river, where we could watch the passing boats and barges and the bridges opening for the water traffic.

Jaap and Gerda

The green bridge opens by swinging sideways rather than opening from the centre

We discovered the Haarlem red light district by accident...

Gerda and red lights

I wondered what Osh would make of this...

We stopped outside a community garden where Gerda and Jaap do some work...

...and I saw a stork nest...

We biked 25km in all - and I couldn't wipe the big grin off my face the whole way. I felt so happy!

Thank you Gerda and Jaap for a truly magical day.

No photo with this post!

The last several nights I have slept naked, no duvet or sheet, with double doors three metres away wide open. I have never been as hot as this in Christchurch. Even in Cambodia I wasn't a constant little puddle as I am here!!

Talking of heat, I've seen some raging suntans - mahogany verging on black. Usually older people. It comes as a surprise because most of us in New Zealand are well past the toasting stage - we know better (and this from an ex-toaster!).

Voorburg and the Huygensmuseum Hofwijck...

Voorburg is the next 'village' over from Rijswijk. Once - and maybe not so long ago - these would have been villages separated by farmland. Now they are all part of the greater Den Haag metropolitan area. But the heart of the villages remains. The part of Rijswijk I like best - and posted about early on - is the little shopping area centered on the old church. In Voorburg, a short tram ride away, there is an almost intact shopping street of old buildings set quietly off the main road.

On Herenstraadt in Voorburg

On Saturdays there is a market in a leafy green lane at one end of the shopping area...

At the other end of Herenstaadt, is a charming building and garden (somewhat overwhelmed by the modern railway station), now the Huygensmuseum Hofwijck. The country house was built by Constantijn Huygens (1596-1687) as a retreat from the busy court life in Den Haag. Huygens was a poet, a scientist, a composer, father of five and secretary to two Princes of Orange. His famous scientist son, Christiaan Huygens, continued to live and work at Hofwijck.

I have been curious about the number of buildings in the Netherlands constructed on water. How do they prevent 'rising damp'?? (Venice must have the same issue). The musty smell in the ground floor (the kitchen) of Hofwijck suggests that it is a problem. 

The design proportions of Hofwijck are classical, mathematical in their precision - a deliberate challenge to the ornate Dutch architecture exemplified in the first photo...

.

Toilets at the railway Station in Leiden...

Why can't all toilets be a pleasure to do business in???

Noise...

Noise has been a constant on this trip. And I have become more aware of different layers of noise and my response to them. 

For example, in my little room in Allen Hall, London, with the window open because of the heat, the noise was constant - loud traffic hum all night, frequent police and ambulance sirens, planes and helicopters overhead, rubbish trucks... To my surprise I was able to treat this night-time noise as wallpaper and sleep despite it. It is a part of the very heart and buzz of a big city.   

In Tavistock, which is a small rural town in a very rural and quite remote part of the UK, I would have expected less noise. However Rebecca's cottage was hard up against the A384(?) that runs along the western fringe of Dartmoor and the traffic noise was constant and penetrating. I found it more difficult to deal with in Tavistock than in London. London I expect to be noisy, Tavistock I don't. The only way to avoid the noise at the cottage was to shut all the windows. 

In Rijswijk there is also a constant, though slightly more distant and less intense traffic hum, penetrated regularly by the sound of the passing trams. The 'noise' in Rijswijk is more local. The last few days have been very hot which means all windows open at night. Terraced or tenement housing means you have lots of very near neighbours and the balmy nights bring them outside to eat and chat. There was a bunch of maybe Turkish men in the little courtyard next door whose voices and laughter continued late into last night. (As an aside, in this warm weather you also get all the cooking smells mingling in the air and that is rather nice).

Then there are other noises. Loud shop music, as prevalent here in Holland as anywhere. It drives me OUT of shops.  Tired children screaming - a pitch designed to gain attention! Loud conversations on trams and trains. Loud cell phone conversations. The distinction between public and private seems to have diminished. The private is public and loudly so. 

I don't mean this to be a moan - though I suppose it is - so much as an observation from someone with very acute hearing who, from childhood, has hated noise. It is a form of pollution that we have come to take for-granted. However I have never taken for-granted the comparative silence of Governors Bay - and I shall treasure it all the more on return. 

Leiden...

Spent yesterday in Leiden, only 15 minutes on the train from Holland Spoor. Just the loveliest old town, surrounded and bisected by canals. And it was sunny!!! Leiden has the oldest university in The Netherlands and heaps of young people riding bikes. I think the best thing I can do is post a selection of photos to try and give a sense of Leiden's character. (Most of these photos were taken in the morning when the streets were still quite quiet).

Very close to where Rembrandt was born and grew up

Date on door, 1612

Car parks, bike parks, boat parks...

Rapenburg - the most prestigious area in 17th century Leiden for the textile merchants

Pieterskerk

Many similar gravestones in Pieterskerk

Very thin, very sad...

Hooglandsekerk from Burcht

Keys are Leiden's city symbol

Weighing station

Stained glass in Museum De Lakenhal

At the train station - quadruple this number...