Today is what I'm going to term my first last-day. Owing to the odd circumstances of my impending departure I'm effectively leaving over two days. The eternally unbending SSH demand that I leave my room before 12 noon today, which I will, but unfortunately I don't leave Utrecht until about 6pm tomorrow. Luckily when my parents came to stay their hotel room had a number of faults, which, when subsequently complained about, resulted in them being offered another room for one-night free of charge. So later today I'm heading over to spend my last night here in some sort of comparative luxury.
It's hard at the moment to be cheerful about leaving this place. It's like anything, you don't appreciate it until you've left, but quite literally in the past days I've realised how much I will miss Utrecht. The year has been truly exceptional in so many ways and I'm so grateful that I filled in the form to apply, and looking back, I wish I was more enthusiastic in doing so. Still, I can rest happy in the knowledge that eight people are coming over from Cambridge next year, so the good experiences should be multiplied eight-fold next year, which is grand.
One up side though is that there are no shortages of good eating opportunities presenting themselves. On Thursday I went out for a goodbye lunch with Lobke, then had Emma and Fajar around for dinner as a last gathering of the remaining Mooting Crew. On Friday Andrew, Tineke, Chloe and I of us went out for lunch to celebrate the year and to have one last Duch pancake and in the evening Jeff and I went out for dinner in a little Italian place that I've walked past everyday but have never ventured inside. Today I'm heading off for my final appelbollen, and tomorrow morning I can gorge myself at the hotel buffet breakfast.
At least I'll leave Holland on a full stomach.
30/06/2007
29/06/2007
A Scandinavian Bridge Too Far
It's customary when things are coming to an end to try and go out with a vain last hurrah, or on a bang. It's also fitting that my attempt to do so backfired slightly. On the day after I got back from the UK I got on a train to visit Copenhagen in Denmark, on the Wednesday I was wondering whether it was such a good idea.
Way back in 2006 I'd planned on making a trip to Scandinavia, a place I've always had an odd fascination with. Originally my room rent lasted until the 15th July, which would have give me two weeks after my courses ended to make such a trip and I'd mapped out where I'd have liked to have gone. However, I soon realised that (a) it was going to cost a huge amount of money and (b) that my new room's rent only lasted until the 30th June. So I toned down expectations and wasn't even going to go at all until I discovered the half-price train deal a few weeks ago. So I guess the whole trip started out as the smaller brother of another more idyllic one, but still, I was really disappointed by Copenhagen.
It's harsh to say that I was disappointed because it's exactly like Amsterdam, but it's true. That's not to say that Amsterdam is all bad, it has grown on me since I got here, but to spend 16 hours on an uncomfortable train to visit a mirror of a place 30 minutes up the road is a little irritating. Admittedly the weather was rotten while I was there, and the 'Hostel of the Damned' that I stayed in was populated with people who seemed to have forgotten how to smile or talk, neither of which conspired to produce a happy atmosphere, but then, neither did the place itself. I usually have a problem when I go to somewhere new in that I take way to many photos and spend hours sorting through them - not a problem in Copenhagen which really didn't present that many opportunities. Although the harbour area around Nyhaven was an exception, and that's probably why it was so packed out.
In fact, I thought that one of the prettiest and nicest places was the one that comes in for the most criticism. Hans Christian Andersen's Little Mermaid sculpture is often compared to the Manneken Pis in Brussels as both are rather smaller than they're made out to be. However, while the Manneken Pis succeeds in being both located in a run down corner of a street intersection and a little vulgar, the Little Mermaid is located on the riverside and is actually quite elegant in being so diminutive and was worth the trek from the centre.
Aside from that the most stand out thing was Tivoli. There can't be many cities in the world that contain a theme park right opposite their main railway station, but Copenhagen is one. It's basically a traditional park with pavilions and restaurants, and a number of theme park rides ranging from peddle boats, to teacups, to roller coasters. I visited on the Monday night and was glad that I did as it had a really lovely atmosphere, but unfortunately after listening to several bands, it started to pour down, and with the final illuminations not being for another two hours I decided to call it a night so didn't get to see the crowning event.
Unfortunately the weather was a recurring theme in Copenhagen and it poured down on the Wednesday soaking me through, confining me to the indoors, and oddly even seemingly corroding both of my shoe laces meaning my shoes became glorified slippers on the way back.
As such, on the Tuesday I decided to leave Denmark and take a train to Lund and Malmö in Sweden across the Öresund strait. And I'm so glad that I did. To get to Sweden you cross Europe's largest bridge at 7.9km, and it's a truly impressive thing.
People say that Skåne (the area of Sweden containing Malmö and Lund) is very like Denmark, but I thought it a world apart. Lund is a famous University town of about 100,000 people, but most seemed to be away when I was there and it resembled a ghost town, but a pretty little ghost town nonetheless. I even wondered around and into the University buildings without anyone challenging me - I could have sauntered into a lecture on particle acceleration, but I resisted the urge.
After I'd spent a good few hours wandering around, I got on the train back to Malmö, which managed to be even nicer. Not only was in pretty, but it has an oddly appealing name, and it's also a city that I will remember as the place where everything was free. No sooner had I got off the train than a lady thrust a bottle of lemon water into my hand, and then another after I enquired as to what I'd done to warrant the gift. Then I was given a bag of sesame biscuits and a tube of (frankly disgusting) squeezey cheese to spread on them. Finally I was also given a bag containing lots of fliers and money off vouchers which would have been great could I read them to find out what I could have got money off. And people were smiling again - including me. Happy days indeed.
But the crowning glory of Malmö had to be something that I'd never associated with Scandinavia - it's beach front. Lonely Planet said it was a bus ride away, but a 20 minute walk later I'd arrived and spent the next four hours just strolling over the dunes to the harbour near the big bridge. There was hardly anyone there.
Apart from a bridge and unexpected stumble into a naturist area it was a lovely afternoon. Of course, as soon as I got back to Copenhagen, it was raining.
As trips go this has to be the most mixed bag that I've had this year. It was interesting noting how late it got dark, and how early it got light, and I'd like to go further north to see the midnight sun. Using different currencies again was novel, but oddly welcome as well, a nice bit of unhegemony never hurts. Perhaps I'm being overly harsh on Copenhagen, and having just come back from the familiarity of the UK couldn't have helped, but I'd heard some great things from people who'd been, and perhaps I'd set my sights too high, but the little bit of Sweden that I saw really impressed me and I'd certainly go back. But I wouldn't do it my train again as my train affinity only extends so far. My journey first took me to Duisburg in Germany, a unremarkable commercial city that became my home for three hours on the way there and back (first at 9pm in the evening, then at 6am in the morning - not great times). The journey up to Copenhagen wasn't too bad, but the compartmentalised coaches were a pain as your legs end up entangled in those of the person opposite you meaning neither gets that much sleep. The way back was both better and worse. I shared a coach with Alex, Larry and Charles (Canadian, Finnish and Finnish) and we chatted most of the way. This was great as it was probably the longest time I'd spent with fellow travellers this whole year, but it also meant that we got no sleep. The train was also delayed for two hours in Hanover, then cancelled, meaning we needed to transfer onto a little regional commuter train before getting on the train back to Utrecht to find someone sitting in our seats. Pah, although I am entitled to 20% off my next journey with Deutsche Bahn... It was really interesting talking to them for the evening and finding out what they were doing, where they were going and what Finland and Canada were like. I wish I'd done more of that this year. I'd been something of a lone traveller and I think it got to me a little in Copenhagen. Travelling alone has the great benefit that you're your own person, you can do what you want when you want. But that's quite a selfish benefit compared to the benefits that you can get from having a companion to share in the experience, and I imagine that as with anywhere, Copenhagen would have been just fine had I not been on my own.
I've been so lucky this year to have had the opportunity to travel to so many places for the first time, and I've had such a fantastic time doing so. Some places have been better than others, and others have been unintentional diversions, but I can't help but wonder whether Copenhagen was a case of travel fatigue in the sense that it's time to try something a little different. I don't know how people who travel around Europe for months on end manage it, I'd be shattered after the first week if I didn't have some sort of base like Utrecht to return to and recuperate. I wouldn't change anything that I've done this year, not even a little, but if anyone's looking for a travel partner in the near future then I'd be pretty eager to put myself forward as a candidate. Europe's not that far away after all.
Way back in 2006 I'd planned on making a trip to Scandinavia, a place I've always had an odd fascination with. Originally my room rent lasted until the 15th July, which would have give me two weeks after my courses ended to make such a trip and I'd mapped out where I'd have liked to have gone. However, I soon realised that (a) it was going to cost a huge amount of money and (b) that my new room's rent only lasted until the 30th June. So I toned down expectations and wasn't even going to go at all until I discovered the half-price train deal a few weeks ago. So I guess the whole trip started out as the smaller brother of another more idyllic one, but still, I was really disappointed by Copenhagen.
It's harsh to say that I was disappointed because it's exactly like Amsterdam, but it's true. That's not to say that Amsterdam is all bad, it has grown on me since I got here, but to spend 16 hours on an uncomfortable train to visit a mirror of a place 30 minutes up the road is a little irritating. Admittedly the weather was rotten while I was there, and the 'Hostel of the Damned' that I stayed in was populated with people who seemed to have forgotten how to smile or talk, neither of which conspired to produce a happy atmosphere, but then, neither did the place itself. I usually have a problem when I go to somewhere new in that I take way to many photos and spend hours sorting through them - not a problem in Copenhagen which really didn't present that many opportunities. Although the harbour area around Nyhaven was an exception, and that's probably why it was so packed out.
In fact, I thought that one of the prettiest and nicest places was the one that comes in for the most criticism. Hans Christian Andersen's Little Mermaid sculpture is often compared to the Manneken Pis in Brussels as both are rather smaller than they're made out to be. However, while the Manneken Pis succeeds in being both located in a run down corner of a street intersection and a little vulgar, the Little Mermaid is located on the riverside and is actually quite elegant in being so diminutive and was worth the trek from the centre.
Aside from that the most stand out thing was Tivoli. There can't be many cities in the world that contain a theme park right opposite their main railway station, but Copenhagen is one. It's basically a traditional park with pavilions and restaurants, and a number of theme park rides ranging from peddle boats, to teacups, to roller coasters. I visited on the Monday night and was glad that I did as it had a really lovely atmosphere, but unfortunately after listening to several bands, it started to pour down, and with the final illuminations not being for another two hours I decided to call it a night so didn't get to see the crowning event.
Unfortunately the weather was a recurring theme in Copenhagen and it poured down on the Wednesday soaking me through, confining me to the indoors, and oddly even seemingly corroding both of my shoe laces meaning my shoes became glorified slippers on the way back.
As such, on the Tuesday I decided to leave Denmark and take a train to Lund and Malmö in Sweden across the Öresund strait. And I'm so glad that I did. To get to Sweden you cross Europe's largest bridge at 7.9km, and it's a truly impressive thing.
People say that Skåne (the area of Sweden containing Malmö and Lund) is very like Denmark, but I thought it a world apart. Lund is a famous University town of about 100,000 people, but most seemed to be away when I was there and it resembled a ghost town, but a pretty little ghost town nonetheless. I even wondered around and into the University buildings without anyone challenging me - I could have sauntered into a lecture on particle acceleration, but I resisted the urge.
After I'd spent a good few hours wandering around, I got on the train back to Malmö, which managed to be even nicer. Not only was in pretty, but it has an oddly appealing name, and it's also a city that I will remember as the place where everything was free. No sooner had I got off the train than a lady thrust a bottle of lemon water into my hand, and then another after I enquired as to what I'd done to warrant the gift. Then I was given a bag of sesame biscuits and a tube of (frankly disgusting) squeezey cheese to spread on them. Finally I was also given a bag containing lots of fliers and money off vouchers which would have been great could I read them to find out what I could have got money off. And people were smiling again - including me. Happy days indeed.
But the crowning glory of Malmö had to be something that I'd never associated with Scandinavia - it's beach front. Lonely Planet said it was a bus ride away, but a 20 minute walk later I'd arrived and spent the next four hours just strolling over the dunes to the harbour near the big bridge. There was hardly anyone there.
Apart from a bridge and unexpected stumble into a naturist area it was a lovely afternoon. Of course, as soon as I got back to Copenhagen, it was raining.
As trips go this has to be the most mixed bag that I've had this year. It was interesting noting how late it got dark, and how early it got light, and I'd like to go further north to see the midnight sun. Using different currencies again was novel, but oddly welcome as well, a nice bit of unhegemony never hurts. Perhaps I'm being overly harsh on Copenhagen, and having just come back from the familiarity of the UK couldn't have helped, but I'd heard some great things from people who'd been, and perhaps I'd set my sights too high, but the little bit of Sweden that I saw really impressed me and I'd certainly go back. But I wouldn't do it my train again as my train affinity only extends so far. My journey first took me to Duisburg in Germany, a unremarkable commercial city that became my home for three hours on the way there and back (first at 9pm in the evening, then at 6am in the morning - not great times). The journey up to Copenhagen wasn't too bad, but the compartmentalised coaches were a pain as your legs end up entangled in those of the person opposite you meaning neither gets that much sleep. The way back was both better and worse. I shared a coach with Alex, Larry and Charles (Canadian, Finnish and Finnish) and we chatted most of the way. This was great as it was probably the longest time I'd spent with fellow travellers this whole year, but it also meant that we got no sleep. The train was also delayed for two hours in Hanover, then cancelled, meaning we needed to transfer onto a little regional commuter train before getting on the train back to Utrecht to find someone sitting in our seats. Pah, although I am entitled to 20% off my next journey with Deutsche Bahn... It was really interesting talking to them for the evening and finding out what they were doing, where they were going and what Finland and Canada were like. I wish I'd done more of that this year. I'd been something of a lone traveller and I think it got to me a little in Copenhagen. Travelling alone has the great benefit that you're your own person, you can do what you want when you want. But that's quite a selfish benefit compared to the benefits that you can get from having a companion to share in the experience, and I imagine that as with anywhere, Copenhagen would have been just fine had I not been on my own.
I've been so lucky this year to have had the opportunity to travel to so many places for the first time, and I've had such a fantastic time doing so. Some places have been better than others, and others have been unintentional diversions, but I can't help but wonder whether Copenhagen was a case of travel fatigue in the sense that it's time to try something a little different. I don't know how people who travel around Europe for months on end manage it, I'd be shattered after the first week if I didn't have some sort of base like Utrecht to return to and recuperate. I wouldn't change anything that I've done this year, not even a little, but if anyone's looking for a travel partner in the near future then I'd be pretty eager to put myself forward as a candidate. Europe's not that far away after all.
24/06/2007
A wonderful reminder
After I'd finished in Bath I braved the unknowns of First Great Western Railways and travelled up to London to meet Lottie on my way up to Cambridge. I hadn't seen Lottie since December, which was quite a long time ago, so it was great to meet up again even if only for a few hours.
It's always odd when you meet friends that you haven't seen for extended periods of time - I never know how to react, a bit like when you're saying goodbye. Do you make a big deal of the time, or just react like you've seen each other yesterday? I suppose the good thing is that whatever you do, it doesn't feel awkward, which I guess is the mark of a good friendship. But after I moved on from London to catch a train up to Cambridge I certainly had a lot of that!
I was last in Cambridge only four months ago, but such a lot happens in such a short space of time that it felt like an age, and it was an odd feeling being back. I'm now firmly in between years - I'm not a third year or a second year and I spent the four days I was there skating over the surface of the place. Yesterday was results day and it felt very peculiar being there when everyone else was getting there's, knowing I'd have to wait another year. It's an odd feeling knowing that the people I've basically grown up with at Selwyn won't be there next year, and it'll be like starting over in a way, but most will be living in London next year, and I'll probably be doing the same the year afterwards.
As a kind of celebration of the past year a group of us went to the Downing May Bay on the Wednesday night, after the Law Society garden party, and thankfully the rain stayed away the whole night. I think I speak for everyone when I say that we all had a fantastic evening spending time with good friends. The Ball itself was good fun as well, and better than last year's at Sidney Sussex.
Unfortunately I now have to decide which subjects I want to take next year when I'm back there, and this is about one-hundreds time harder to decide than it sounds. I had to have two meetings with my Director of Studies discussing the issue and I still never really reached a conclusion. Utrecht's spoiled me with its huge choice of subjects, such that the 10 or so I can choose from next year seem a little stingy. I think I'll have to do some pondering this summer, but it's good to be able to consult those who did them this year.
Lots of people asked me whether I'd missed Cambridge and whether I felt like I'd be able to get back into it next year. I don't think I could answer 'yes' more strongly to both questions if I tried. This year has been fantastic and I'd do it again in a heartbeat - and I told as much to the people I met who are coming here next year - but I left a lot behind to come, and while that's not lost, it wasn't quite the same being back as it would have been had I never left. Of course, that's to be expected, but there's a part of me that will wonder about that. As for getting back into it, there's an odd idea that once you get out of the Cambridge 'bubble' you can't get back in, but I can't disagree more strongly. I already feel more grown up than this time last year, and there have been times this year when I've felt so frustrated by the work here that I've longed to read an article or a case judgement properly, and I'll be able to do that with a vengeance next year. I know I'll be complaining the opposite way next year, but at the moment that doesn't matter. I'll be more than happy to move into my room in September to start my final year, but I'll be sad to leave Utrecht and the Netherlands as well. I would never have thought about living abroad unless my job took me there prior to this year, but now moving to Utrecht, or Amsterdam seems no more of an upheaval than moving to London. A small world it is.
It's always odd when you meet friends that you haven't seen for extended periods of time - I never know how to react, a bit like when you're saying goodbye. Do you make a big deal of the time, or just react like you've seen each other yesterday? I suppose the good thing is that whatever you do, it doesn't feel awkward, which I guess is the mark of a good friendship. But after I moved on from London to catch a train up to Cambridge I certainly had a lot of that!
I was last in Cambridge only four months ago, but such a lot happens in such a short space of time that it felt like an age, and it was an odd feeling being back. I'm now firmly in between years - I'm not a third year or a second year and I spent the four days I was there skating over the surface of the place. Yesterday was results day and it felt very peculiar being there when everyone else was getting there's, knowing I'd have to wait another year. It's an odd feeling knowing that the people I've basically grown up with at Selwyn won't be there next year, and it'll be like starting over in a way, but most will be living in London next year, and I'll probably be doing the same the year afterwards.
As a kind of celebration of the past year a group of us went to the Downing May Bay on the Wednesday night, after the Law Society garden party, and thankfully the rain stayed away the whole night. I think I speak for everyone when I say that we all had a fantastic evening spending time with good friends. The Ball itself was good fun as well, and better than last year's at Sidney Sussex.
Unfortunately I now have to decide which subjects I want to take next year when I'm back there, and this is about one-hundreds time harder to decide than it sounds. I had to have two meetings with my Director of Studies discussing the issue and I still never really reached a conclusion. Utrecht's spoiled me with its huge choice of subjects, such that the 10 or so I can choose from next year seem a little stingy. I think I'll have to do some pondering this summer, but it's good to be able to consult those who did them this year.
Lots of people asked me whether I'd missed Cambridge and whether I felt like I'd be able to get back into it next year. I don't think I could answer 'yes' more strongly to both questions if I tried. This year has been fantastic and I'd do it again in a heartbeat - and I told as much to the people I met who are coming here next year - but I left a lot behind to come, and while that's not lost, it wasn't quite the same being back as it would have been had I never left. Of course, that's to be expected, but there's a part of me that will wonder about that. As for getting back into it, there's an odd idea that once you get out of the Cambridge 'bubble' you can't get back in, but I can't disagree more strongly. I already feel more grown up than this time last year, and there have been times this year when I've felt so frustrated by the work here that I've longed to read an article or a case judgement properly, and I'll be able to do that with a vengeance next year. I know I'll be complaining the opposite way next year, but at the moment that doesn't matter. I'll be more than happy to move into my room in September to start my final year, but I'll be sad to leave Utrecht and the Netherlands as well. I would never have thought about living abroad unless my job took me there prior to this year, but now moving to Utrecht, or Amsterdam seems no more of an upheaval than moving to London. A small world it is.
B(re)aking Bread in Bath
Last Saturday I boarded an Easyjet flight for my first visit back to the UK since February. I hadn't quite appreciated how long it had been since I'd been 'home', but I really noticed it on landing. Perhaps flying into the home of the West Country accent had a large something to do with it, but on the train to Bath I was sat along from a group of rather drunk lads with thick accents, and I don't think I've been more content for quite a little while. Smiles all around, apart from those sitting opposite them I imagine.
Anyway, why was on my way to Bath? Well, for one, it ranks as my favourite English city, despite the fact that it's been a number of years since I was there last and I've never been there for more than a day at a time. So it was great to be able to spend four days there getting to know it a little better. Bath is one of those places which appears to be effortlessly charming - like a lot of European cities, and it's a pleasure just to stroll around and sit outside watching the world go by (and there appears to be a lot of the world in Bath).
But the main reason was to bake bread. As you'll probably have gathered, I have a weakness for all things dough, so I was there to attend a two-day bread baking course at the Bertinet Kitchen, run by this very affable Frenchman.
And fantastic fun it was too. I had absolutely no idea what to expect as I've never done anything like it before, was I going to be the youngest? The least, or the most, experienced? The only one? As it turned out there were about 11 of us each day of all ages and backgrounds. I was in fact the youngest, but only by a year, which doesn't count. It was interesting seeing how to bake bread 'properly', and I was quite amazed at what we managed to turn out at the end of each day before sitting down to lunch to munch on it all.
His method is fantastically messy, and I ended up with a worrying amount of dough in my hair on the first day. But it was all great fun and it's given me the confidence and enthusiasm to try some new things when I get back home. Highlight of the two-days though had to be the doughnuts that we made, they're definitely going to become a staple.
The course was actually four-days, so I missed the final two, and after having such a great time I was considering staying on, but as I was going up to Cambridge, it would have been quite a commute each morning, so I'll have to go back at some point this Summer to finish off. It would be nice to head back to Bath as well. On the Sunday I found a National Trust walkway around the city called 'Bath Skyline' which was remarkably poorly signposted, but provided a really nice ramble through the hills around Bath and some great views.
It all reminded me how lovely our country is and how much we don't always appreciate that. It's been easy for me to be blown away by some of the things I've found here, but on my way back to Utrecht yesterday I met a Dutch guy who'd been in Cambridge who was lamenting the blandness of everything in Holland compared to the UK. I guess it's a case of the grass always being greener, but Britain can be a lovely place, and I think Bath provides a perfect example of that. Perhaps next time I'll have to take to the skies for a better look.
So I don't think I could have asked for a much better reintroduction to the country, aside from a dodgy moment in a Starbucks on arrival where I started to ask for a drink in Dutch, and the fact that I'm still not sure which ways the cars should be coming from.
Anyway, why was on my way to Bath? Well, for one, it ranks as my favourite English city, despite the fact that it's been a number of years since I was there last and I've never been there for more than a day at a time. So it was great to be able to spend four days there getting to know it a little better. Bath is one of those places which appears to be effortlessly charming - like a lot of European cities, and it's a pleasure just to stroll around and sit outside watching the world go by (and there appears to be a lot of the world in Bath).
But the main reason was to bake bread. As you'll probably have gathered, I have a weakness for all things dough, so I was there to attend a two-day bread baking course at the Bertinet Kitchen, run by this very affable Frenchman.
And fantastic fun it was too. I had absolutely no idea what to expect as I've never done anything like it before, was I going to be the youngest? The least, or the most, experienced? The only one? As it turned out there were about 11 of us each day of all ages and backgrounds. I was in fact the youngest, but only by a year, which doesn't count. It was interesting seeing how to bake bread 'properly', and I was quite amazed at what we managed to turn out at the end of each day before sitting down to lunch to munch on it all.
His method is fantastically messy, and I ended up with a worrying amount of dough in my hair on the first day. But it was all great fun and it's given me the confidence and enthusiasm to try some new things when I get back home. Highlight of the two-days though had to be the doughnuts that we made, they're definitely going to become a staple.
The course was actually four-days, so I missed the final two, and after having such a great time I was considering staying on, but as I was going up to Cambridge, it would have been quite a commute each morning, so I'll have to go back at some point this Summer to finish off. It would be nice to head back to Bath as well. On the Sunday I found a National Trust walkway around the city called 'Bath Skyline' which was remarkably poorly signposted, but provided a really nice ramble through the hills around Bath and some great views.
It all reminded me how lovely our country is and how much we don't always appreciate that. It's been easy for me to be blown away by some of the things I've found here, but on my way back to Utrecht yesterday I met a Dutch guy who'd been in Cambridge who was lamenting the blandness of everything in Holland compared to the UK. I guess it's a case of the grass always being greener, but Britain can be a lovely place, and I think Bath provides a perfect example of that. Perhaps next time I'll have to take to the skies for a better look.
So I don't think I could have asked for a much better reintroduction to the country, aside from a dodgy moment in a Starbucks on arrival where I started to ask for a drink in Dutch, and the fact that I'm still not sure which ways the cars should be coming from.
15/06/2007
Done, but not quite dusted
This morning I woke up at 7:45, got up, then decided it was a bad idea, and went back to bed. I then re-woke up at 10:15. Much better.
Today I finally finished all 28 pages of my final paper of this term, detailing the differences between methods of constitutional interpretation in the United States and the United Kingdom. The downside of this was that I needed to buy a new pack of paper just to print it out. The upside of this was that I've now done all of my work for the year - assuming the paper's worth a passing grade that is! It's odd, I had expected that I'd feel a sense of relief or elation after I'd handed it in, but I didn't at all. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I had to go straight to what was probably my third 'final' mooting meeting (over three months after it finished!). But I suppose it's more to do with the fact that there hasn't been that steady build up to a round of final exams at the end of the year. Breaking the year up into self-contained periods means that today in reality I've only finished period 4, which only really started at the end of April.
But still, I can hardly grumble that I don't feel good enough about finished, for being finished is all that matters. To prove that I know how to celebrate I even stopped by the Dick Bruna Huis on the way home to see the birthplace of the creator of the Netherlands' favourite rabbit daughter, Miffy. It wasn't that great.
Tomorrow I'm heading back to the UK for a week, and I'll be in Cambridge from the 20th until the 23rd. I haven't set foot in England since February, and I beleive you've gone and changed the £20 note since I've been gone and that you're due a new Prime Minister soon after I come back. Can't I trust the country with anything?
Today I finally finished all 28 pages of my final paper of this term, detailing the differences between methods of constitutional interpretation in the United States and the United Kingdom. The downside of this was that I needed to buy a new pack of paper just to print it out. The upside of this was that I've now done all of my work for the year - assuming the paper's worth a passing grade that is! It's odd, I had expected that I'd feel a sense of relief or elation after I'd handed it in, but I didn't at all. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I had to go straight to what was probably my third 'final' mooting meeting (over three months after it finished!). But I suppose it's more to do with the fact that there hasn't been that steady build up to a round of final exams at the end of the year. Breaking the year up into self-contained periods means that today in reality I've only finished period 4, which only really started at the end of April.
But still, I can hardly grumble that I don't feel good enough about finished, for being finished is all that matters. To prove that I know how to celebrate I even stopped by the Dick Bruna Huis on the way home to see the birthplace of the creator of the Netherlands' favourite rabbit daughter, Miffy. It wasn't that great.
Tomorrow I'm heading back to the UK for a week, and I'll be in Cambridge from the 20th until the 23rd. I haven't set foot in England since February, and I beleive you've gone and changed the £20 note since I've been gone and that you're due a new Prime Minister soon after I come back. Can't I trust the country with anything?
13/06/2007
Forehand Farewells
Today has been an emotional day. At 10:30 I had my last face-to-face contact with SSH (the housing association here) when they came to inspect my room prior to my impending departure. To their seeming disappointment I hadn't wrecked the place, and everything on the inventory was present and correct. So, that little experience, along with the knowledge that I'm done with SSH, nicely covered 'euphoria', on my behalf at least.
Afterwards I'd been invited to take part in a workshop on student service for the Faculty members as a student representative. It wasn't terribly interesting from a student perspective, and I mainly nodded and shock my head at the appropriate moments - I'm always sceptical as to the use and effectiveness of these sort of presentation led workshops. But nonetheless, I was glad to be felt worthy enough to have been invited as my last act within the University. So there goes 'appreciation'.
I also got a phone call from Joe and Jaron who are in Holland for a couple of days, who invited me to a talk in Leiden this evening, but alas, due to the above meeting this afternoon, and a very special occasion this evening, I couldn't make the trip. So I guess that covers 'disappointment'.
Finally, the special occasion - my final badminton lesson. Tears almost welled in my eyes when the trainer proclaimed that he'd miss me. It's been a really fun thing to have done while I've been here, although today did give rise to the awkward question of what to do when you're saying goodbye to 15 people who you don't know all that well, but who you've seen every week for a year, that you're not going to see again? Do you shake their hand and wish them well? Just give the usual parting cry of 'Tot ziens'? Do you do the Dutch thing and kiss them on the cheek? In the end I adopted all three for different people, pretty much at random. But three events made this evening even better. Firstly, one of the Dutch people there spoke to me in Dutch without realising what they were doing - 'acceptance'. Secondly, I understood a joke that someone cracked in Dutch without having to wait for someone to translate - 'surprise'. And thirdly, I won my last ever game of badminton here - 'delight'.
Afterwards I'd been invited to take part in a workshop on student service for the Faculty members as a student representative. It wasn't terribly interesting from a student perspective, and I mainly nodded and shock my head at the appropriate moments - I'm always sceptical as to the use and effectiveness of these sort of presentation led workshops. But nonetheless, I was glad to be felt worthy enough to have been invited as my last act within the University. So there goes 'appreciation'.
I also got a phone call from Joe and Jaron who are in Holland for a couple of days, who invited me to a talk in Leiden this evening, but alas, due to the above meeting this afternoon, and a very special occasion this evening, I couldn't make the trip. So I guess that covers 'disappointment'.
Finally, the special occasion - my final badminton lesson. Tears almost welled in my eyes when the trainer proclaimed that he'd miss me. It's been a really fun thing to have done while I've been here, although today did give rise to the awkward question of what to do when you're saying goodbye to 15 people who you don't know all that well, but who you've seen every week for a year, that you're not going to see again? Do you shake their hand and wish them well? Just give the usual parting cry of 'Tot ziens'? Do you do the Dutch thing and kiss them on the cheek? In the end I adopted all three for different people, pretty much at random. But three events made this evening even better. Firstly, one of the Dutch people there spoke to me in Dutch without realising what they were doing - 'acceptance'. Secondly, I understood a joke that someone cracked in Dutch without having to wait for someone to translate - 'surprise'. And thirdly, I won my last ever game of badminton here - 'delight'.
12/06/2007
Hair yesterday, gone today
My final two courses here have now become one, although in truth they weren't really that separate anyway. This morning I had my oral exam for my US Constitutional Law course. I've never had an oral exam before so had no idea what to expect, so I made sure that I knew the cases that had been assigned and rucked up at 8:30. At 9:00 I was done and on my way home grade in hand. Eh? What happened there? Apparently that's the way it is, and everyone else seems surprised that I'm surprised. Not that I'm complaining, although I've always thought it odd that a years worth of study comes down to a final three-hour exam, so I guess six weeks of study coming down to a 30 minute chat shouldn't shock me that much.
What this means is that I've now only a paper to hand in on Friday then I'm academically done for the year. It's also on American law, although it's a comparison with British law. It's practically finished, so everything seems on course. It's odd how much I've enjoyed looking at American public law this year and I'm glad that I've had the opportunity as the Cambridge Tripos is too rigid to afford me the opportunity to do the same there. In fact, I'm even more glad that I had the chance here as Cambridge have shafted me somewhat. They sent me the Part II papers the other day, and the Public Law dissertation option, the option that I've been basing my entire approach to next year on, has been withdrawn and not replaced with anything comparable. This means that I'm left with a gaping whole that I'm going to have to fill with something I don't want to fill it with. Not impressed to say the least. But at least I got my public law fix while I was here.
After my exam finished so quickly this morning, before most of Utrecht woke up in fact, I took the opportunity to get my mop of hair cut. I've been meaning to do this for about two months now, and I had intended to take before and after shots, but I only remembered about the before shot half way through having it cut off, which I thought was rather too late for the exercise to have much meaning. But 'tis done now, so now I feel much lighter up top and all the more summery.
Discovering Den Bosch
When it comes to place names in the Netherlands, things aren't always what they seem. Amsterdam for instance is actually pronounced 'Omsterdom'. Den Haag (The Hague), is officially known as 's-Gravenhage (The Count's Hedge). Den Bosch is officially called 's-Hertogenbosch (The Duke's Forest), but for three days of Carnival it changes again so the city becomes known as 'Oeteldonk' (Frog Hill). But whatever it's called, that's where I went on Sunday.
Last Sunday I remarked that I intended to make Sunday a travelling day, and so after crawling out of bed at much too late an hour I boarded a train to Den Bosch, half-an-hour away in the south of the country. Many people had told me that it was a lovely place, and it supposedly has the finest Gothic churches in the Netherlands, so having missed out on the change to go during the carnival, it sounded like a good destination. And indeed it was, but not for the reasons I was expecting.
I'm used to writing on here about how nice Dutch cities are etc, but I'm not going to say that with Den Bosch. I didn't think it was actually that nice a place. Sure, the weather was miserable, but it didn't have that usual 'feeling' that accompanies most of the places that I've been to which had made them all lovely to walk around while all feeling quite the same. Instead, it was the people that made Den Bosch for me. On leaving the train station I passed a lovely scene of community that was repeated throughout the city:
I got there at lunch time and found a little cafe inside on old church where the waiters were so polite, friendly and curious as to where I was from, that it really made for a nice lunch. Afterwards I went for a wonder around the city, and wasn't really that impressed with doing so as everything felt a little soulless and empty, even the central Markt was dull and rather dispiriting despite the vintage car show being held there. So I headed over to the Cathedral to see what all the fuss was about. Well I can tell you that it's justified.
It's an oddly beautiful cathedral, all the more so being attached to a comparatively small city. I paid to take a tour up the tower, and it has to be the best €3.50 I've spent since I got here. The tour guide was so enthusiastic that it took us one-and-a-half-hours to do the tour, while people who started after us had left long before we did. He told us everything about the cathedral's construction and renovations, about the city itself, about other buildings in the city, what to see while we were there. The guy's passion for the place and for his job just shone through and I left feeling thoroughly contented with it all. Even the people from Den Bosch on the tour gave out the same spirit of interest.
Den Bosch itself is a fortress city and as such remained quite small until not that long ago when it started to expand, but following protests from the population, the expansion was halted in one direction, meaning that the city is surrounded by suburbs on only three sides, with the other side of the city centre stopping abruptly when it reaches the flood plain.
Building on flood plains is never a good idea, not least in Holland, but here, the sudden boundary line lends a peculiar feeling to an already peculiar city. Suffice to say I liked Den Bosch, but for more substantial reasons than the cosmetic ones that usually pepper these blog entries, even if I was being watched.
Den Bosch, a city with substance then.
Last Sunday I remarked that I intended to make Sunday a travelling day, and so after crawling out of bed at much too late an hour I boarded a train to Den Bosch, half-an-hour away in the south of the country. Many people had told me that it was a lovely place, and it supposedly has the finest Gothic churches in the Netherlands, so having missed out on the change to go during the carnival, it sounded like a good destination. And indeed it was, but not for the reasons I was expecting.
I'm used to writing on here about how nice Dutch cities are etc, but I'm not going to say that with Den Bosch. I didn't think it was actually that nice a place. Sure, the weather was miserable, but it didn't have that usual 'feeling' that accompanies most of the places that I've been to which had made them all lovely to walk around while all feeling quite the same. Instead, it was the people that made Den Bosch for me. On leaving the train station I passed a lovely scene of community that was repeated throughout the city:
I got there at lunch time and found a little cafe inside on old church where the waiters were so polite, friendly and curious as to where I was from, that it really made for a nice lunch. Afterwards I went for a wonder around the city, and wasn't really that impressed with doing so as everything felt a little soulless and empty, even the central Markt was dull and rather dispiriting despite the vintage car show being held there. So I headed over to the Cathedral to see what all the fuss was about. Well I can tell you that it's justified.
It's an oddly beautiful cathedral, all the more so being attached to a comparatively small city. I paid to take a tour up the tower, and it has to be the best €3.50 I've spent since I got here. The tour guide was so enthusiastic that it took us one-and-a-half-hours to do the tour, while people who started after us had left long before we did. He told us everything about the cathedral's construction and renovations, about the city itself, about other buildings in the city, what to see while we were there. The guy's passion for the place and for his job just shone through and I left feeling thoroughly contented with it all. Even the people from Den Bosch on the tour gave out the same spirit of interest.
Den Bosch itself is a fortress city and as such remained quite small until not that long ago when it started to expand, but following protests from the population, the expansion was halted in one direction, meaning that the city is surrounded by suburbs on only three sides, with the other side of the city centre stopping abruptly when it reaches the flood plain.
Building on flood plains is never a good idea, not least in Holland, but here, the sudden boundary line lends a peculiar feeling to an already peculiar city. Suffice to say I liked Den Bosch, but for more substantial reasons than the cosmetic ones that usually pepper these blog entries, even if I was being watched.
Den Bosch, a city with substance then.
When Sacha came to stay
If there's one thing that I've learnt while I've been here, it's been to expect the unexpected. So it was that with only the briefest discussion and arrangement beforehand, and a confirmation on the same day, I found myself waiting at the train station on Thursday to welcome Sacha to Utrecht - my first such visitor.
It's been six months since I went to Paris to visit him and Lottie, which is rather too long to between seeing friends, so it was great to host him for a few days. It's always really interesting to see the place you live from the perspective of someone visiting. I felt the same way when I researched Penzance for Emma and Laura who are visiting this summer - I guess you see 'home' in a new light, which can only be a good thing, especially when you're reminded of things that you now take for granted. The sheer number of bicycles here for instance, or the sheer oddness of the way Dutch traffic lights (don't) work.
We spent the Friday exploring Utrecht after I tried to prepare a semi-Dutch, semi-Scottish breakfast. Friday was ridiculously hot and humid, but it was a lovely day to see the city at its best. We started off by visiting all the University buildings, which were all oddly open to the public, even the administration block which is usually access by appointment, and the Academy building which is usually in some form of lock down. Quite a contrast to Panthéon-Assas in Paris where you need ID just to get into the faculty! After that we went for a walk along the canals before deciding to climb the Dom Tower. I've climbed it three times now, but the view from the top still amazes me. On a clear day you can see as far as Amsterdam where you can see the Ajax stadium, but alas, it's never been clear enough for that when I've been. After a lazy lunch we hired a canalbike despite the lady's warning that it was 'very hot'. Indeed she was right and one hour later I was indeed feeling the heat just a little. That evening it did the usual thing of pouring down after such a nice day, but that didn't stop a trip to the ice-cream place, where we were confronted by another impromptu music stage on the Neude. It never ceases to amaze me how often this happens here, and how many people go along despite the fact that there never seems to be any warning beforehand.
On the Saturday we headed off to Amsterdam where the weather was happily much cooler. We did pretty well in avoiding the tourist packed areas until the end of the day. We had intended to visit a few of the museums there as I've only seen a few, but unfortunately many seem to be undergoing renovation at the moment, so a walk down to the museum district was slightly wasted, but provided a good opportunity to see the canals. We eventually visited the Museum het Rembrandthuis and the Stedelijk Museum, both of which were slight let downs. I did however finally buy myself a musuemjaarkaart which gives me free access to most museums in the Netherlands for a year. The fact that I only have 6 days left in the country (eek!) just means that I'd better get a move on!
Sacha made the interesting remark that it was odd for him being in a country where he couldn't read anything. I guess I don't think of it like that any more; not understanding signs and sentences just seems to be routine now and I don't think anything of the vast gaps in my awareness. That's actually quite worrying, but quite normal at the same time. I was at lunch with a Dutch friend today who started reading the menu to me before I pointed out that I could in fact read it. She seemed surprised, which makes me wonder how much more clueless some people here must be when it comes to reading Dutch. I don't rate my Dutch at all, but I have to confess to feeling quite content after ordering two stroopwafles for Sacha and I at the market, in Dutch, to Sacha's seeming approval.
It's been six months since I went to Paris to visit him and Lottie, which is rather too long to between seeing friends, so it was great to host him for a few days. It's always really interesting to see the place you live from the perspective of someone visiting. I felt the same way when I researched Penzance for Emma and Laura who are visiting this summer - I guess you see 'home' in a new light, which can only be a good thing, especially when you're reminded of things that you now take for granted. The sheer number of bicycles here for instance, or the sheer oddness of the way Dutch traffic lights (don't) work.
We spent the Friday exploring Utrecht after I tried to prepare a semi-Dutch, semi-Scottish breakfast. Friday was ridiculously hot and humid, but it was a lovely day to see the city at its best. We started off by visiting all the University buildings, which were all oddly open to the public, even the administration block which is usually access by appointment, and the Academy building which is usually in some form of lock down. Quite a contrast to Panthéon-Assas in Paris where you need ID just to get into the faculty! After that we went for a walk along the canals before deciding to climb the Dom Tower. I've climbed it three times now, but the view from the top still amazes me. On a clear day you can see as far as Amsterdam where you can see the Ajax stadium, but alas, it's never been clear enough for that when I've been. After a lazy lunch we hired a canalbike despite the lady's warning that it was 'very hot'. Indeed she was right and one hour later I was indeed feeling the heat just a little. That evening it did the usual thing of pouring down after such a nice day, but that didn't stop a trip to the ice-cream place, where we were confronted by another impromptu music stage on the Neude. It never ceases to amaze me how often this happens here, and how many people go along despite the fact that there never seems to be any warning beforehand.
On the Saturday we headed off to Amsterdam where the weather was happily much cooler. We did pretty well in avoiding the tourist packed areas until the end of the day. We had intended to visit a few of the museums there as I've only seen a few, but unfortunately many seem to be undergoing renovation at the moment, so a walk down to the museum district was slightly wasted, but provided a good opportunity to see the canals. We eventually visited the Museum het Rembrandthuis and the Stedelijk Museum, both of which were slight let downs. I did however finally buy myself a musuemjaarkaart which gives me free access to most museums in the Netherlands for a year. The fact that I only have 6 days left in the country (eek!) just means that I'd better get a move on!
Sacha made the interesting remark that it was odd for him being in a country where he couldn't read anything. I guess I don't think of it like that any more; not understanding signs and sentences just seems to be routine now and I don't think anything of the vast gaps in my awareness. That's actually quite worrying, but quite normal at the same time. I was at lunch with a Dutch friend today who started reading the menu to me before I pointed out that I could in fact read it. She seemed surprised, which makes me wonder how much more clueless some people here must be when it comes to reading Dutch. I don't rate my Dutch at all, but I have to confess to feeling quite content after ordering two stroopwafles for Sacha and I at the market, in Dutch, to Sacha's seeming approval.
04/06/2007
Back to Belgium
A few days ago I bumped into a Dutch friend of mine who I haven't seen for a couple of months, and within a few minutes of catching up, we were both denigrating the Belgians, as is the custom here. Personally, I've something of a love hate relationship with Belgium. I've been to Brussels three times, and despite wavering on the second visit, I'm now pretty resolute in not appreciating it, and Liege was, well, such a horrible place that I'm trying to forget it. On the other hand, Brugges is a really lovely little town that really charmed me.
Yesterday I was facing the reality that I've only got a limited number of Sunday's left before heading home at the start of July. Fortunately though Sunday is also one of the days that the law library is shut (it's shut more often than it's open), and with the books I need being 'NOT FOR LOAN' there's little I can do. So yesterday I decided to make the most of my externally-imposed work prohibition, by going back to Belgium to try and solve the mystery once and for all. So at 07:17 I boarded a train to visit Antwerp and Ghent in Flanders, or northern Belgium.
Unfortunately things did not start out well and the morning mist that I hoped would lift only got denser the closer we got to the border. Until we crossed the border, when, I kid you not, quite literally vanished. Of the two trains in the Netherlands that are practically guaranteed to be late one is the international train to Belgium (the other being the train to Schipol), so I was amazed to pull into Antwerp ahead of schedule to a lovely sunny day.
Things were looking up, and Antwerp did not disappoint. I know two people who have been, and both remarked that they didn't like the town. I don't know what they were talking about. Sure it doesn't have that homely feel of Brugges, but it doesn't have that nasty city feeling that Brussels does either.
Unfortunately, yesterday was a koopzondag in the Netherlands, meaning that the shops were open, but this was not the case in Belgium where everything remained resolutely shut. But I did notice an odd number of pizza restaurants (by far the majority of eateries) all offering a 20% student discount - competition or cartel? I'll let you decide. Anyway, the fact that places were shut was offset nicely be the fact that there were markets just about everywhere they'd fit, and not just any markets, but the most eclectic markets I've come across. Including one sprawling example that sold everything from toys, to music, to gadgets, to food, to chickens. But not dead ones, no, this one had live ones. Right next to the geese and rabbits.
As for Antwerp itself, I'm sure that visiting on a relatively quiet and sunny day helped my perceptions, but it's a thoroughly calming place. It's located on a river and the architecture of the buildings, both ordinary houses and administrative buildings, is fantastic, especially around the main square, where the more impressive buildings fitted right in with the rest.
Of course, that's not to say that all the more imposing buildings fitted in, with some dominating the skyline in a rather grandiose way, especially the rather petite castle that someone had stuck on the riverside.
On the whole, the architecture is more ornate than the Dutch attempts, but it's quite similar in style nonetheless. Antwerp was exceedingly easy to wonder around, had a number of residential streets that seemed so tranquil and removed from the hustle of the town itself.
I also discovered a tranquil tunnel under the river to the other side which provided one of the those "Does this thing ever end?!" moments.
Perhaps more surprisingly though was the fact that you had to use a wooden escalator to get down there. I don't think I've ever seen one before, and after the Kings Cross fire I'm surprised any still exist - especially in a part of the world where smoking is practically obligatory.
Eventually the clouds returned, which was nice, as I was beginning to feel that if it got any hotter I'd have spontaneously combusted. At the same time I boarded what was probably the least aerodynamic train I've ever seen, to Ghent. I only know one person who's been to Ghent, and she lives there, so she's biased, but I'd heard it recommended as a less touristy-Brugges, and that was good enough for me to want to take a peek.
Oddly, it took longer for me to appreciate Ghent than it did Antwerp. The fact that the train station is about 3 miles from the centre, and that the main road between the two was just that. But when I reached the centre of town I practically forgot about Antwerp. I get the feeling that I'm gushing, but Ghent is beautiful. Really. I'll let some photos do the talking here.
It's one of those towns that just feels old. There were plenty of people walking around in period dress, and horse drawn carts etc, but it didn't feel out of place at all - as if people were putting on a show (which of course they were, but it didn't seem false).
One would imagine that in a place as small as Ghent, or in any other place for that matter, that one or two spires would be enough. But not for Ghent, which lays claim to officially three (right in the centre of town) but many more than that in reality. Of course, I had to climb one.
Of course, you can't go to Belgium without sampling a Belgian waffle, and I found a place that proclaimed itself to make "Probably the best waffle since 1950". I was impressed by its modesty, but was left wondering what was so good about that 1950s waffle I'd never get to sample. Nonetheless, their effort was very good.
Ghent also has a proper university quarter, which I strolled around to find people talking to other people in other buildings simply by shouting out of windows to the other party. There were also people playing what I can only term 'urban' golf in the streets and on the numerous squares.
So, where does all of that leave my feelings towards Belgium? Confused, that's where. As I walking around I was aware that everything felt 'softer' than the Netherlands, but I don't quite know what I mean by that. Perhaps the fact that there's more than one language, with French and German also being spoken, breaks things up a bit and makes everything feel more inclusive. Perhaps it's just because the last time I was in Belgium I couldn't really speak any of the languages, but now I can by with a little Dutch/Flemish. But whatever it was, I really enjoyed the day just strolling around and taking in the sights, and I felt supremely comfortable doing so, which I didn't the last time I was there. The architecture is fantastic as well. There are plenty of examples of good Dutch architecture along the canals in Amsterdam for instance, but it's all a little samey after a while. That's not the case in Antwerp or Ghent, where every little house seemed to have a distinctive style all to itself regardless of its size or stature. Have Ghent and Antwerp tipped the balance that Brussels and Liege did so well in upsetting? I'll reserve judgement, but I will say that from what I've seen, Flanders is a lovely area - that fact that it's basically an extension of the southern-Netherlands, an area that I find equally nice, might well have something to do with that.
Wonder what next Sunday will bring?
PS: If anyone's lost a bike to the water in a river or the sea, then it might have turned up beached in Antwerp.
Yesterday I was facing the reality that I've only got a limited number of Sunday's left before heading home at the start of July. Fortunately though Sunday is also one of the days that the law library is shut (it's shut more often than it's open), and with the books I need being 'NOT FOR LOAN' there's little I can do. So yesterday I decided to make the most of my externally-imposed work prohibition, by going back to Belgium to try and solve the mystery once and for all. So at 07:17 I boarded a train to visit Antwerp and Ghent in Flanders, or northern Belgium.
Unfortunately things did not start out well and the morning mist that I hoped would lift only got denser the closer we got to the border. Until we crossed the border, when, I kid you not, quite literally vanished. Of the two trains in the Netherlands that are practically guaranteed to be late one is the international train to Belgium (the other being the train to Schipol), so I was amazed to pull into Antwerp ahead of schedule to a lovely sunny day.
Things were looking up, and Antwerp did not disappoint. I know two people who have been, and both remarked that they didn't like the town. I don't know what they were talking about. Sure it doesn't have that homely feel of Brugges, but it doesn't have that nasty city feeling that Brussels does either.
Unfortunately, yesterday was a koopzondag in the Netherlands, meaning that the shops were open, but this was not the case in Belgium where everything remained resolutely shut. But I did notice an odd number of pizza restaurants (by far the majority of eateries) all offering a 20% student discount - competition or cartel? I'll let you decide. Anyway, the fact that places were shut was offset nicely be the fact that there were markets just about everywhere they'd fit, and not just any markets, but the most eclectic markets I've come across. Including one sprawling example that sold everything from toys, to music, to gadgets, to food, to chickens. But not dead ones, no, this one had live ones. Right next to the geese and rabbits.
As for Antwerp itself, I'm sure that visiting on a relatively quiet and sunny day helped my perceptions, but it's a thoroughly calming place. It's located on a river and the architecture of the buildings, both ordinary houses and administrative buildings, is fantastic, especially around the main square, where the more impressive buildings fitted right in with the rest.
Of course, that's not to say that all the more imposing buildings fitted in, with some dominating the skyline in a rather grandiose way, especially the rather petite castle that someone had stuck on the riverside.
On the whole, the architecture is more ornate than the Dutch attempts, but it's quite similar in style nonetheless. Antwerp was exceedingly easy to wonder around, had a number of residential streets that seemed so tranquil and removed from the hustle of the town itself.
I also discovered a tranquil tunnel under the river to the other side which provided one of the those "Does this thing ever end?!" moments.
Perhaps more surprisingly though was the fact that you had to use a wooden escalator to get down there. I don't think I've ever seen one before, and after the Kings Cross fire I'm surprised any still exist - especially in a part of the world where smoking is practically obligatory.
Eventually the clouds returned, which was nice, as I was beginning to feel that if it got any hotter I'd have spontaneously combusted. At the same time I boarded what was probably the least aerodynamic train I've ever seen, to Ghent. I only know one person who's been to Ghent, and she lives there, so she's biased, but I'd heard it recommended as a less touristy-Brugges, and that was good enough for me to want to take a peek.
Oddly, it took longer for me to appreciate Ghent than it did Antwerp. The fact that the train station is about 3 miles from the centre, and that the main road between the two was just that. But when I reached the centre of town I practically forgot about Antwerp. I get the feeling that I'm gushing, but Ghent is beautiful. Really. I'll let some photos do the talking here.
It's one of those towns that just feels old. There were plenty of people walking around in period dress, and horse drawn carts etc, but it didn't feel out of place at all - as if people were putting on a show (which of course they were, but it didn't seem false).
One would imagine that in a place as small as Ghent, or in any other place for that matter, that one or two spires would be enough. But not for Ghent, which lays claim to officially three (right in the centre of town) but many more than that in reality. Of course, I had to climb one.
Of course, you can't go to Belgium without sampling a Belgian waffle, and I found a place that proclaimed itself to make "Probably the best waffle since 1950". I was impressed by its modesty, but was left wondering what was so good about that 1950s waffle I'd never get to sample. Nonetheless, their effort was very good.
Ghent also has a proper university quarter, which I strolled around to find people talking to other people in other buildings simply by shouting out of windows to the other party. There were also people playing what I can only term 'urban' golf in the streets and on the numerous squares.
So, where does all of that leave my feelings towards Belgium? Confused, that's where. As I walking around I was aware that everything felt 'softer' than the Netherlands, but I don't quite know what I mean by that. Perhaps the fact that there's more than one language, with French and German also being spoken, breaks things up a bit and makes everything feel more inclusive. Perhaps it's just because the last time I was in Belgium I couldn't really speak any of the languages, but now I can by with a little Dutch/Flemish. But whatever it was, I really enjoyed the day just strolling around and taking in the sights, and I felt supremely comfortable doing so, which I didn't the last time I was there. The architecture is fantastic as well. There are plenty of examples of good Dutch architecture along the canals in Amsterdam for instance, but it's all a little samey after a while. That's not the case in Antwerp or Ghent, where every little house seemed to have a distinctive style all to itself regardless of its size or stature. Have Ghent and Antwerp tipped the balance that Brussels and Liege did so well in upsetting? I'll reserve judgement, but I will say that from what I've seen, Flanders is a lovely area - that fact that it's basically an extension of the southern-Netherlands, an area that I find equally nice, might well have something to do with that.
Wonder what next Sunday will bring?
PS: If anyone's lost a bike to the water in a river or the sea, then it might have turned up beached in Antwerp.
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