BBC Radio

Years ago, when I was still living in another place, I used to listen to BBC Radio at least a couple of hours a day. I listened mainly to the World Service and to Radio 4 and there were a lot of shows I loved. I used to listen to all these classic comedies programmes. Some of them were recorded before I was born, and they certainly were before I learned to speak English, but I did enjoy them. My favourite was always the Navy Lark, a small cast of characters, a predictable story line and lots of catchphrases. The series had something wonderfully naive and uncomplicated about it though, and it did always make me laugh. Then there was Hancock's Half Hour, I'm Sorry I'll Read That Again, Round the Horne, The Goon Show, and Take It From Here.

I also listened to the new comedy shows, like Radio Active, Just A Minute, I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue, On the Hour and my favourite, The News Quiz. I taped most of the shows so I could listen to them again and again. I know some of the old episodes of The News Quiz by heart.

Then I moved here and I couldn't listen to my old favourites anymore. Suddenly I had no more Radio 4 or World Service. I sometimes listened to my old tapes, and to the tapes I bought from the BBC shop. I missed new episodes of the News Quiz though, and the TV version just wasn't as funny...

And now, through the miracle of the internet, I can listen to my old favourites again. There are more reruns of the Navy Lark, Hancock and Round the Horne, and new episodes of I'm Sorry I'll Read That Again. I can hear all the new variations of Mornington Crescent! And I have my News Quiz back. And it's still as funny as it was. No Barry Took, unfortunately, but Sandi Toksvig is a great chairperson.

And I don't just get the comedy, I also get the drama. I get to listen to the Lord Peter Wimsey stories, and right now Alex Jennings is one of the performers on "Nicholas Nickleby".

City Birding

Sitting at my desk in the office on the fourth floor I have a wonderful view across Amsterdam. Today I saw a Stork flying past, so I grabbed my binoculars, never too far away, and sat birdwatching at my desk. I remember seeing a Stork fly past from the same building before, a few years ago, but at the time I was in a meeting on the eighth floor of the building. My manager at the time was a birder too, so when I saw the bird fly past I looked straight at him, he looked at me and we both said: "It is, isn't it?" He was chairing the meeting at the time and this caused some laughter at the time.

I do get to see a lot of birds from where I am. You will always have the gulls, or my Dutch albatrosses, the pidgeons, the jackdaws and the jays. Now, in the summer I get all these swifts doing their acrobatics right outside my window. Sometimes I see geese, ducks or cormorants. There must be many more, but I am expected to get a little work done while I'm there so I don't get to see everything. There always is enough to see though.

Reading Again

I just finished another interesting novel, "Tulip Fever" by Deborah Moggach. A few years ago I went through a period when I just couldn't find anything good to read. I asked some friends for tips at the time, and ended up with a long list of books to read. It must be about six years ago now, and I still take to that list when I'm looking for inspiration. I got some really nice and interesting suggestions at the time.

One friend suggested rereading Jane Austen, which I did a couple of years ago. All of the novels, except for Emma, were on board Europa, and I read them on the crossing from Cape Horn to the Cape of Good Hope. I don't know why, but I can reread those books over and over again. Good stories and characters, the language is Wonderful and so is the humour. The same friend made me go back to Lord Peter Wimsey and his Harriet. Again, I love the stories and the humour, but in this case it is mainly the characters. I am a great fan of both Peter and Harriet. Maybe I was influenced a little by the wonderful tv adaptation which starred Edward Petherbridge and Harriet Walter, two of the best British actors. I always have them in my mind when I think of Lord Peter and his wife.

And she gave me a book that always makes me smile when I think of it. "I Capture the Castle" by Dodie Smith is just such a perfect novel. It has atmosphere, eccentricity, great characters and a wonderful story. The kind of book you want to read over and over again just to recapture the great joy of it. A film was made of it not too long ago, but that just didn't capture the magic of the novel. I'd rather read it because it sparks my own imagination.

Another friend sent me a recommendation that did exactly the same for me, she got me to read Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" trilogy. A story that is on the edge of fantasy and reality, that keeps moving all over the place and always manages to take you with it. Whenever I talk to friends about the islands north of Norway these novels come to mind. And again, I don't necessarily need to see the play or the film, I like the images I have in my own mind. I know Pullman has written a lot more, and I will get round to reading more.

The friend who recommended this one to me was also the one who sent me to "Tulip Fever" and to "Girl with a Pearl Earring", two books about my own country and about painting. I know Delft very well, so reading about Vermeer I recognised the environment without any problems. And I know Amsterdam well, so I could also move about the city with the main characters in "Tulip Fever".

The lists my friends sent me is almost finished now, just a few more to go, and then I'll have to start thinking again. Or maybe ask my friends again. But, any suggestions anyone?

Mika

Some time ago I watched Jools Holland's Later on BBC 2. It's a wonderful music programme for grown ups. I watched it because one of my top two favourite singers, Christy Moore, was on. It then turned out that Yusuf Islam was on as well, and he gave a wonderful performance there. As did Christy, of course. One of the other guests was a rather unusual singer, called Mika, who just sang one song seated at the piano. I wasn't sure what to think of him.

Then, shortly after, there was an album up on the Luisterpaal, with an enormously brightly coloured sleeve, Mika's "Life in Cartoon Motion". I didn't make the connection at the time, I wondered whether or not I should listen to this album, and in the end I didn't. You can't listen to everything.

But I couldn't escape this one. A little while later again I went to see a friend, and she had the cd and was very enthusiastic about it. She played it during lunch, but we were all talking so I never really got to listen to it at all, I just heard it in the background.

For some reason this man seemed to be haunting me though, and shortly after again I accidentally ended up watching the Lollipop video on some music channel, and I just really liked it. So I looked for more on the internet, and, yes, of course, I bought "Life in Cartoon Motion". I often play it, and it always cheers me up. It's way over the top, I guess, but I don't really care. It's good fun!

Habit or Temptation?

I've grown so used over the past few months to cycling down the PC Hooftstraat instead of all the way through the park, by far the nicer of the two, that I still automatically cycle down the shopping street. Is this just habit, or is my desire to see all those pretty dresses in the shopwindows stronger than I would care to admit?

Swallowtail

Last week I saw, for the first time near Amsterdam, a Swallowtail. I'd seen them in Barcelona, and once in the very south of my own country, but never near my home town. The sad thing is, however, that I found it on the road, it had been hit by a car, and its body was damaged. The only thing to do was to put it in the grass by the roadside and to hope it would recover. I am not so sure that it did. So I have mixed feelings about finding this beautiful butterfly here.

Rising Damp

This morning I cycled into work in the rain again. It's been a long time since that was the case, after all the dry and warm weather we've been having. It felt good, though, I actually enjoyed it. I did discover that my waterproof cycling gear isn't quite waterproof. My knees are decidedly damp.

Gabriel

I spent the evening in Paradise, close to Mr. Gabriel Rios. Well, it was actually Paradiso, and there were about five metres separating me from the gentleman. But it sounds nice, anyway. It was a strange evening in some ways.

Today is Remembrance Day in the Netherlands, so at 8 p.m. the place got completely silent for two minutes. It was weird, because there was a lot of noise in the hall, and then it was as if the place was frozen in time. Everyone was quiet and stood completely still. Then the noise came back just as before. Paradiso used to be a church, and just for a moment it felt like one again.

When Gabriel Rios came on stage I had a little trouble recognizing him. He wasn't wearing his lovely, woolly, knitted hat.... I was looking forward to seeing the hat. He was stylishly underdressed, apart from his wonderfully colourful shoes. He is very cute, all dark and handsome and very charming. I must confess he did sometimes remind me a little of Mr. Bean though, and he does seem awfully young, which says more about me than about him, I guess. Still, I can think of worse things to look at for a whole evening.


I was about two metres from the stage, and was surrounded by mainly young girls, dancing most of the evening, staring up at this man up on stage. They came in small groups, and sometimes seemed too busy amongst themselves to have a clue about what was going on on stage. And then there are the mobile phones though, and the need to share each text message as it arrives. Rios did manage to catch the eyes though. And he did get the whole hall dancing in the end. A little shake of the hips at just the right moment worked wonders.

He sang some quiet songs, but mainly faster songs that people could dance to. When he started "Broad Daylight" someone in the audience handed him a packet of orange juice, because the track was used in the commercial for that brand of juice. He drank it there and then.

I was reminded of when I first heard Rios' music last year. While I was sailing to Antarctica. One of the crew members really liked "Broad Daylight" and it was on his "favourites" cd, the one that was played after every meal, when the crew were doing the dishes, and at various times in between meals. I was in the cabin next to the galley, and heard the song over and over again, even while I was seasick. Or sometimes in the middle of the night. Hearing it so often didn't necessarily make me a Rios fan at the time, though I did sort of like the song.

I do keep wondering why some people come to concerts. The amount of talking and noise amazes me. You cannot really listen to the music because there always are people talking somewhere near you. Even when Gabriel asked the audience to be quiet just for one song some girls in front of me decided this was a good time to use their phone to take each other's picture and to have a giggle. Apparently these days Dutch audiences are notorious for their habit to just keep talking throughout the concert.

Anyway, I just thought I'd take some pictures of Gabriel instead....

Make A Plan To Love Me

I found a song by Bright Eyes called "Make a Plan to Love Me", which really intrigues me. How can you make a plan to love someone? Is it as simple and rational as all that? Can you make a plan to love someone, say in a month or six months? Or is this the 21st century relationship? This is very much a professional issue for me, as a planner. I mean, how much can you actually plan? Can anyone explain?


Make A Plan To Love Me

I heard you're scheming new pyramids
Another big idea to get you rich
Make a plan to love me sometime soon

You said you got a foot in the door
You buy and then you sell, you buy some more
Make a plan to love me sometime soon

Life is too short
Death doesn't ask
It don't owe you that

Some things you lose
You don't get back
So just know what you have

And make a plan to love me sometime soon

First you want to ride off into the Sun
Then you want to shoot straight to the Moon
Make a plan to love me sometime soon

When you are young the world is a Ferris Wheel
I know we will grow old it is lovely, still
Make a plan to love me sometime soon

Life is too short
To be a fool
I don't owe you that

Do what you feel
Whatever is cool
But I just have to ask

Will you make a plan to love me?
Will you make a plan to love me?
Will you make a plan to love me sometime soon?

Good Habits

I just managed to swim for another hour, fourth day in a row this week. I'm doing something right!

The Smile of Evil

I read Marianne Fredrikssons "The Smile of Evil" this week. I like Fredrikssons books, her psychological insights, her characters and her stories. I especially liked her biblical trilogy on Eva, Kain and Norea. This was a modern story again, about a woman who has come out of a violent marriage. I am not too sure about this one, though, some of the storylines were a little convenient.

Fredriksson died last February, so this was her last novel. What I like about Fredriksson is that, while getting involved with the story and the characters, she manages to write lines that stick out and that you remember and that make you think again. I'm sorry she won't be writing more memorable lines.

R&R

Sometimes the idea of a desert island becomes really appealing, some time on my own in a remote corner of the world somewhere. I may not necessarily always choose the traditional island, I can think of some nice ones way down south where I wouldn't mind spending a couple of weeks on my own. Then again, a nice sandy beach with lots of sunshine, a few palm trees for my hammock, warm water for swimming sounds pretty good too. But I guess in the end you don't get to choose the island where you get stuck.

And then I get to take my very own Desert Island Discs, of course:
Eleni Mandell - Miracle of Five
Christy Moore - Live in Dublin 2006
Luka Bloom - Radio Bremen
Zita Swoon - Band in a Box
An Pierlé - White Velvet
Sarah Bettens - Scream
Mika - Life in Cartoon Motion
Bright Eyes - Cassadaga
Bach - Cello Sonatas 1027-1029 (Martha Argerich & Mischa Maisky)
Leonard Cohen - Ten New Songs

(And yes, I know it's supposed to be just 8, but this seems like a well-balanced set, and why should you stick to all the rules stuck out there on a Desert Island? And anyway, ask again in a week and half my choices will have changed again. I like making lists.)

Then there is the book. I get to take Shakespeare and the Bible, but I've read both. I guess they are good enough to reread though. Which reminds me of one of the most beautiful pieces of poetry Shakespeare wrote, suitable for the situation:

"Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked,
I cried to dream again."

But I digress. I still have to pick another book to bring, and that is the hard part. I am not good at making choices, and then to talk about books. I mean, what book is going to keep me occupied for a long time while I'm out there? I'd probably end up picking poetry, Emily Dickinson, R.S. Thomas or W.B. Yeats. If it was to be a novel, it might be Bleak House or Middlemarch. It's been a long time since I've read those, and both are complex enough to keep me busy for a while. I guess I'd end up with Middlemarch, just to have Dorothea's company.

You also get to take a luxury item, but I can't really think of one. I guess I care more about books and music than about luxury items. If anything I would want to have the predictable endless supply of pen and paper, to do an endless amount of writing. Or should I maybe opt for my binoculars, I'm sure my island is full of the most stunning birds....

How did I get here in the first place, all I really wanted was the peace and quiet of a desert island....

Swifts

They really are back now, the Swifts. I can see them soaring past my window in small groups, I can hear them through the open window, their acrobatics are amazing as ever. They are just so wonderful to watch.

Swimming Again

I managed to swim for another hour today, but it was more of a social experience, I guess. Yesterday it was lovely and quiet and I could just swim without thinking too much. Today it was a lot busier, and I needed to pay attention to avoid collisions.

It does amaze me sometimes. I mean, what is wrong with men? I know the age of chivalry is long past, and maybe it wasn't all it's cracked up to be, but it seems to me we're heading to the other extreme. I sometimes think men were asleep under a tree somewhere when evolution provided us with a social gene. One man tried to overtake two women in the pool today, but only nearly missed me and created such waves I had to stop to breathe. And then there are all these types who simply don't see you. I know men have trouble with peripheral vision, but this was absurd. It's really a matter of simple courtesy and good manners, but I probably am hopelessly old-fashioned. It's a good exercise for me, I guess, sticking to my own course and not getting distracted or upset. I need to practise more though, I'm not very good at it yet.

Summer Is Here!

I just saw my first two Swifts for this year from my office window. Summer is here! This has really made my day. I love the sound of Swifts in the city, and I love to watch them fly, those unmistakable silhouettes whizzing past at great speed. One of the joys of summer.

Gift

My gift for today was an hour in the swimming pool, almost uninterrupted, just swimming and dreaming.

Wishful Thinking

Sometimes you look out your office window from the corner of your eye, and just for a moment you mistake your gulls for albatrosses as they glide past. Or is it just wishful thinking?

Books Again At Last

There are times when I can quite easily read three or four books a week and enjoy every single one. The past few months I haven't really been able to read much at all. There always is so much to do and so much to think about that I just haven't been able to settle down to anything much.

Last Friday I actually read two books though, and loved both. I had started Peter Ackroyd's new book "The Fall of Troy", about an archeologist and his wife working on an excavation in Turkey, supposedly of Troy. The archeology is a good background for the way the relationship between the two is portrayed, and for the way it develops. It reminded me a little of "First Light", the novel that made me a fan of Ackroyd's.

Then I read a book by a Belgian novelist called Kristien Hemmerechts, about two sisters growing up. A strange and slightly unnerving book, but intriguing and beautifully written. I love her books because she is always pretty straightforward but poetic at the same time. There is great insight in her work.

Sunday I finished my reading weekend with another Dutch book, the one that recently won one of our country's major literary awards. I'm not too sure about that one, because I really like the premise, the way the book is set up and the feelings in there, but at the same time I'm not sure that it really works.

New Scars

Talking about scars. Cycling home from work yesterday I managed to hurt my ankle trying to avoid a cyclist coming along the wrong side of a canal. And then I ended up almost getting hit by a little van which was backing out and not really watching where he was going on. He just missed me, but I reacted a little slowly, and somehow managed to hit my finger on the brake of my bike, so I now have a blue finger. Oh well, at least I didn't fall over again.

Scars

Now that it is almost summer again you start to look at life differently. There still is a mark on my left leg from my fall into the hold of the Europa earlier this year that isn't hidden by my jeans every day anymore. It's almost three months ago now, but the scar remains, there is a bump and a small scar on my shin. I guess they'll stay as a permanent reminder. I have a few more of those. They've become physical memories.

There is a tiny scar on my forehead which I got when I was really small and I fell onto a milk jug. It's one I don't remember myself, so I must have been tiny.

And I have a couple of small scars on my left hand which I got from falling off my bicycle on Texel. I arrived there one day in the autumn, early in the evening, when a storm was blowing and cycled all the way up to the north, against the advice of the man at the bicycle rental company. It took a couple of hours, against the wind and in the dark, and I fell twice. The second time I hit a car coming out of a driveway, and I got a little damaged. Not sure about the car... The worst thing was that on arriving in De Cocksdorp at half past eight all the restaurants were closing and I ended up at the café having something hot to eat. It's become a favourite ever since, though, so in the end it wasn't too bad.

There should be a small scar behind my right ear from an ear operation I had when I was ten years old, but I've never seen it myself. Apparently it's no longer there anyway. When the surgeon who operated on me way back then examined me again a few years ago he couldn't find a scar and so reached the conclusion he never operated on me. But that is a whole other story.

I guess on the whole it isn't too bad really, considering how often I've managed to hit something, have fallen over or have fallen of my bike. In most cases the wounds heal and don't leave any mark, which is a miracle in itself.

Phones and Doors

The trouble with these new-fangled tiny cell phones is that you can't slam the phone down on someone when you're really angry. Instead you have to push this tiny button, which doesn't quite have the same effect. Thank heaven for doors.

Terns

I still can't believe the beauty of these birds, pictures of South American Terns that I took in Ushuaia last year:

Images

On my computer I've installed a programme which automatically refreshes the picture on my desktop. The nice thing about it is that you never know, when you close your programme windows, what picture you will find behind them, and so you can be surprised by your own pictures. I have a nice set on there, mainly with pictures from my Antarctica trips. Some are of myself, brave woman facing the elements, others are pictures I've taken and which turned out rather well. Let me give a sample:


Me being particularly brave in a big storm (picture by Rian)


Me guiding the ship through the icebergs (picture by Lex)


Magellanic Penguins on Isla Martillo


Giant Storm Petrel on Aitcho, Barrientos Island


Gentoo feeding its young at Hannah Point

Nostalgia

Finding all those films on Donny Osmond on YouTube really took me back. I spent most of today tidying and sorting out here at home, and couldn't resist going through my memory box. It's just an old box with some of the things I bought long ago, when I was a huge fan. I was a real teenager, wanting to know all about my idols, trying to find out any way I could, always looking for new pictures, more music. The walls of my bedroom were literally covered in posters. I still remember which albums were rare, which ones I never got, but only got to hear at a friends' house. At my school we were all Donny Osmond fans, no David Cassidy fans in sight. I was just beginning to learn English at the time, and I remember writing down the lyrics to the best of my ability. A few years later I threw them all away, because it turned out that what I wrote down didn't necessarily have anything to do with what was sung on the records.

I actually threw out quite a lot, something I do regret now. I'd made several scrapbooks, and got rid of most of them. Today I did find my very own concert review and the ticket for one of the concerts I went to. I still have very vivid memories of the concerts, or maybe of the events, rather than the music. I remember at the first one I went to, in Leiden, being near the stage, right in the middle of the crowd, and I remember just how hot it was. I remember I was wearing a chequered blouse and my Osmonds t-shirt, and I remember all the screaming. The second concert, in Rotterdam, a couple of years later, was much more organised and civilised. There were seats and a lot of people making sure we stayed in our seats. It didn't make such a vivid impression on me as the first one. I was a little older too, and maybe a little less dedicated. There just are a lot of good memories there.

Memory Lane

I've just discovered the joys of YouTube, and I had a great evening going back to old favourites. I was a great Donny Osmond fan in my teens, and there are some great films of him on the site. It's not just the music and going back to all the old favourites, it's also the other stuff that makes me feel he's a nice man with a great sense of humour. And he's still cute.

Kids Today

What do you say when you go babysitting a boy who is eight years old, and when he is told about the plight of the albatrosses offers his entire pocket money for the week, all 50 cents, to support the campaign. It leaves you speechless.

Mika's Music

I seem to keep coming back to the music all the time at the moment. I don't know why it is so important to me, but it is. I keep looking for new things, and I keep rediscovering old favourites. Today I heard Mika by chance. I'd seen him on "Later with Jools Holland" and wasn't impressed, then the cd turned up on the Luisterpaal, and I saw it several times but never actually listened. Then a friend had it and liked it, but I still didn't see anything special there, and then today I watched the clip, and it just made me happy. So I went and looked for more, and found more, and it's such joyful music.

Eleni Mandell

After all the energy and sounds of Zita Swoon in the big room at Paradiso, it was off to Eleni Mandell the next day in the small room. Totally different concert, but again, I enjoyed it very much. Not too crowded, not too much smoke, but some lovely songs. Everything about Eleni is deceptive. The sweetest songs aren't all that sweet if you listen to the lyrics, and she looks so nice and innocent too. She is a nice lady, but not that traditional.

She played my favourite, this wonderful song about the salt truck, and the man to rely on. And she played "Girls" the song that keeps going just the other way every time. And then a beautiful song like "Miss Me". All from the last album "Miracle of Five", that I found a little while ago. It is a wonderful cd. I like the music, but I really love the lyrics, and when I told her that she said: "I love words". I like that.

eleni's website

Mondoleone's Smiles

Leon Giesen has a song where he talks about being distracted during the day by the thought of making love the night before. It's a nice song, typical Mondoleone, because he has such an unusual view of something so familiar. If you go and see him in concert he has a lovely film of just people's faces, thinking the same thoughts, and it is a very sweet and moving film. As I was walking down the Overtoom today I saw a face just like that. I don't know what the girl was thinking, but it did make her smile. And that made me smile.

Zita Swoon

I don't know how to begin really. Long ago I heard this name, Zita Swoon, and I wasn't sure what it was. A singer? A band? I just liked the name, it intrigued me. Then I found out it was a Belgian band, another Belgian band. I watched a live concert on tv and didn't know what to think of it. I wasn't really all that impressed. Then I saw some of their videos and I was impressed by the music and by the creativity I saw in the videos. And there was this singer called Stef Kamil Carlens.

I bought some cds, listened to them, put them away and listened again later. Unusual music, something you need to get used to. Then I saw a concert announced for Amsterdam and I had to go and listen. So I was at Paradiso last night to hear this intriguing Belgian band, and it was so much better than I expected. I had a good introduction during the day, listening to the new album, Big City, on VPRO's Luisterpaal. The first song, "Pretty Girl", got me and I really like the album. The band played some of the new songs last night, and some old favourites.

Carlens is a great front man, he wore a beautiful red suit and danced and sang with a lot of energy. Nice eyes.

The new album is on the luisterpaal for a little while yet.

Batacl-An

I went to see An Pierlé perform at the Bataclan club in Paris. I enjoyed the concert, especially because the crowd was so enthusiastic. It was quite a big hall, but one with a sense of history and a good atmosphere. It's an old theatre apparently, one where Maurice Chevalier performed.

I guess on the whole the setlist was the same as it was in Trix a couple of weeks ago, but it felt different at times. An sang all of the encores in French, so there was a French version of "Anytime You Leave", of "It's Got to Be Me", and even of "Sing Song Sally". That made the concert special too.

I saw some nice pictures of the concert on Robert Gil's website as well as on Lexsample. There even is a video of "C'est comme ça" on YouTube this time.

Lexsample
Robert Gil
C'est Comme Ça on YouTube

Paris in the Spring

I seem to be all over the place at the moment, in more ways than one. Last weekend I was in Antwerp, this weekend I was in Eindhoven and in Paris. It sounds pretty decadent, and it feels like that. I think it should be Amsterdam next weekend.

Paris is a strange city in many ways. When I go there I feel at home, I can find my way there, and I have enough places to go back to. At the same time there always are new places to discover and to enjoy. In some ways Paris is just like any other big city, with a lot of people and a lot of traffic everywhere, but there are all these little pockets almost, where time seems to have stood still, or where there is room to breathe.

Shopping at the Boulevard St. Michel is fun. Gibert Jeune seems to have a dozen shops there, and it took me some time to find the one I like best, the one where they have all the second hand paperbacks.

I didn't buy much, but I found some little treasures at the record shop though, like a second-hand Eleni Mandell I hadn't heard before, Cliff Richard's Small Corners (which I'd been looking for for years), and the dvd for "Demoiselle d'Avignon", which takes me back a long time, longer than I'd care to remember.

I went to the Parc Villette, to the Science Museum for an exhibition on the Poles. This is the International Polar Year, and it was interesting to see a little more of the French involvement. It's only a small exhibition, unfortunately, I had been hoping for a little more. I learned that it is hard to find volunteers to spend a winter in the Antarctic, which surprised me. I wouldn't mind spending time there.

I guess what made this a perfect trip was the weather. It really was springtime in Paris, the time of year when you don't need a coat, when you can sit down in the Jardin de Luxembourg and eat your bread and cheese there, when all the outdoor cafés are full, and you can just wander round in the sunshine.

Little things

Sometimes it's the little things that make all the difference. Like a co-worker who goes on a trip to Oslo and then brings you back a present just because you gave him some tips on what to do and see out there.

Mme. Pierlé

The first time I heard Luka Bloom play live the support act was an unusual Belgian girl called An Pierlé. She was a woman of contradictions from the start. When she walked on stage and talked she sounded like a very shy, very young girl. Her Flemish accent contributed much to this image, as did her appearance. She was blond, quite small and wearing a little black dress. She sat at the piano on her ergonomic ball, which made her "the girl with the skippy ball". But when she started playing suddenly there was all this power and energy, all this emotion and creativity. I first heard her play in Utrecht and Amsterdam in 1999, and then a couple of more times on Luka's next tour. From the first time I heard her there were songs that stuck in my mind. The urgency of "Nebraska", the gentle "Mud Stories" and the unusual lyrics of "God in a Cage". Then there was this staccato song called "Hi". It was always the music and the lyrics that stuck, even after hearing a song only once it would keep coming back into my mind.

At first I wasn't sure what to think of her music. It was genuine and original, it struck a chord, but it seemed to sound almost mechanical, and I needed time to get used to it. I considered buying her cd at the time, but didn't. Then a few years later I came across it again in a record shop and I did buy it. I listened to it, and I still had this ambivalent feeling about the music. Then after a while my partner listened to it a little more, and then I got him her second cd, "Helium Sunset". Different from the first, but with such wonderful music and lyrics, a little gentler maybe with different arrangements. She wasn't just a girl at the piano anymore. Then on "Live Jet Set" the same songs came back, but fully orchestrated, and very beautiful.

So then she came to play at a festival in the Dom Church in Utrecht. After a classical and a jazz piece it was her turn finally. She started off very well that time, by asking the audience for complete silence. She had lost her handbag, and rang her own mobile phone to try and locate it. It was found hiding under one of the seats, and she could retrieve it. This really broke the ice that night. She sang beautifully in this church, and I heard new songs again, as well as some of the songs I had just discovered on "Helium Sunset".



Then I heard her at other concerts, both here and in Belgium, and she kept amazing me. There was a great concert in the open air at the Rivierenhof in Antwerp where the fountains were made to dance along to "Sing Song Sally". Concerts in De Melkweg and Tivoli here in the Netherlands and an appearance at a literary festival in Rotterdam. She always manages to move from these small, gentle and moving songs, to great outbursts of energy and power, from sitting quietly on the edge of the stage to jumping about all over that stage.

I once, sort of by accident, attended a rehearsal of An with White Velvet and some guest musicians in Brussels. I sat there in an empty concert hall while they were going through some of the songs, and that impressed me very much. She's a professional, a perfectionist, and she could hear absolutely everything, all the instruments, every string. She knew exactly what she wanted and how to get to where she wanted to be. The concert that evening was very special.

She was one of the performers at the "Night of the Love Song" in Paradiso last year, the only time I heard her sing in Dutch. A special performance and an unusual song, very cheerful and with a children's choir, but ambiguous as well. She showed her usual great energy and zest for life there and provided a good, joyful and energetic end to the evening's entertainment. You could see even the most grumpy of Dutch poets with a smile on his face.



This weekend I went to see her in Antwerp, the town where she grew up. She played a big club, but it wasn't too crowded and there was a very relaxed atmosphere. She seemed a little tired, but that didn't stop her from giving all she could. She can play very energetically, jumping and dancing round on stage, and also play very gently and with great tenderness. She wrote a song about the death of her grandfather which is very moving. And she still sings "Mud Stories" which never fails to move me. This was the first time I had heard her sing "Anytime You Leave" live. It's a wonderful song about a woman's revenge on the man leaving her. She is very creative and, in this song, as in some others, full of mischief.

When she plays now you see that same passion that was there during those first performances. There is even more energy there now because she moves away from her piano more. When she dances on stage you can see the music and the passion reach her toes, so to speak.



When I hear An's songs in my head there are certain lines and lyrics that keep coming back, they are poetic phrases, but they have the greatest impact if you hear her voice singing them. She wrote a song about Siamese twins that has a haunting line in it:

"Siamese twins are separated
They couldn’t stand themselves no more"

And she can put feelings into words in the most moving and beautiful ways, for example about the death of her grandfather in "Closing Time":

"And now I'm lost and overruled
My eyes sore and
As time was closing in on you
Fear stroking"

And another wonderful image from "Nobody's Fault":
"I guess I’ve always been a dreamer
With a dirty mind"

Then there is "How Does It Feel":

"Anything lost
Anything broken I'll share the cost
But I wonder how does it feel"

"Promise you will never stop wondering
How does it feel"

I could go on like this for a while, but if I had to pick one song just for the lyrics it would be:

Sorry

Say you will
Don’t be shy
I’ll ask nothing
But your time
In return
I’m concerned

I’m so sorry
I can’t do this much better
In front of you
Though I try
I hurt you

By the strange things I never can tell
‘Cause I’ve got them all covered so well
You can’t name them nor solve them
Without getting involved

I’m surprised
Never thought
I’d be shy
Always joke
Always smile
Showing off

I’m a jester
I’m not nice
I’m flirtatious
Made of ice
But I’m scared
Deep inside

Still the same things we never can tell
‘Cause we’ve all got them covered so well
You can’t name them nor solve them
Cause you're getting involved

Hahahahaa
Hahahahaa

No I’m serious
Though I try
It’s my search for
The things I hide from myself
Stupid me



Living Day to Day - weblog on An
An's official website
An's Myspace

Antarctic Bracelet

On the way back from Antarctica, at Buenos Aires airport of all places, I bought a simple wooden bracelet. It is to some extent my Antarctic bracelet because it has the colours of Antarctica in it. It has several shades of blue, some white, some grey and black in an unruly mixture. You can see the icebergs and the sea, the snow and ice, the rocks in them. Then there is the gold in there, the colour of the lichens on the rocks. I like all these colours, the way they are mixed, and the way they remind me of my trips down south. It is good at times to have a reminder of a world out there when you spend your day in an office in the middle of a big city.

The Lady Has Gone Missing

I read yesterday that the lady has gone missing. She was attacked by an iceberg and floated off into the night, unseen by anyone. Europa won't be the same without her.

Two Seasons in a Day

And sometimes a girl gets what she asks for, glorious sunshine and a beautiful spring afternoon. I guess this is what they call changeable weather.

Snow in March

Just when you think spring is here, when all the birds are frantically starting to defend their territories and to find mates, and all the bulbs start showing their heads, you look out your window and all you see is snow. And you are up half the night because your feet are so cold you simply can't sleep. They say the weather gets rough towards the end of March, so I guess that
is true. But I want my spring back, I want sunshine and a gentle, warm breeze.

Antwerp

I like the city of Antwerp. I don't know what it is about the place, but I generally feel quite at home there. I've been there quite often over the past few years, because I know people who live there and the more I get to know the place, the more I like it. On the whole the atmosphere seems pretty relaxed, no pushing and shoving, and the streets are a bit broader than the ones here so you get room to breathe and to walk.

It's a great place for shopping, maybe a bit too great. You get some of the same shops you get here, but it always seems there is so much more space there. Antwerp presents itself as a fashion city, and it is. With the mood I've been in lately that is a dangerous place to be though. And yes, there was this really pretty dress I found, and it didn't cost much, and it looks really great on me. And I guess that isn't too bad, really, Antwerp also is the city of diamonds...

Antwerp also has the best second-hand record shops that I know. A huge selection of the old and the ancient everywhere, though it usually takes a little while to find out just how all these records and cds are organised in the various shops. And then there is so much out there, that after a little while you do tend to give up. You need to know what you are looking for, otherwise there is no point even starting to look.

Then there is the nightlife, the restaurants and cafés in hidden streets and corners. Places with wonderful names and decors, all very much in the Catholic tradition. The Belgian waffles in the street, those famous Belgian Fries, the chocolates. But I was a good girl and I didn't have any of those things. Not one chocolate... I even turned down this delicious looking chocolate egg.

I do think I should plan another visit to Antwerp though.

Education

Formal

I know education is important for all sorts of reasons, and I've been thinking about that again just lately. I've been very lucky in every way with my education, and I do realise not everyone has as much luck. I also enjoy learning, it is what keeps your mind active and open and what helps you to grow and develop. I know all that is pretty obvious, but it doesn't hurt to stop and think about it once in a while.

I was actually first sent to school about six months before I was supposed to. I was playing with my best friend at her house and apparently we were arguing and making a nuisance of ourselves. Her mum got tired of us, picked us up, took us to the nearest nursery school, and the following Monday we started school. I think I always enjoyed it, especially primary school. I went to a good school, and had a succession of good, dedicated teachers. I started out with a lady who must have been very young still at the time, just starting out as a teacher, and she was always very nice. I kept in touch with her for many years after she left the school. And I remember the headteacher at the school, who was very down to earth, a good teacher, and also dedicated. I learnt all the basics at that school, plain old reading, writing and arithmetic and I got a very good basic knowledge of history and geography. The basis was solid enough for everything that followed. I only really have good memories of the school, the friends I had there, the teachers, and I felt at home there.

My secondary school was very good too, strict, but a high standard education. Looking back at what I learned there, what I still use and remember, it is the languages, French and English, (German was never really my idea of an interesting thing to learn), all the literature, and I liked history and economics. I learned basic things there, like doing your own taxes, that I still use. My Latin and Maths have more or less disappeared, but I guess if I really wanted I could retrieve them at some point. Again, I remember a lot of good teachers, and it was the stricter ones that got the best out of me. Especially for French, which I started out doing very badly at, but once Evelien became my teacher I learnt so much. The scale of this school was so much bigger than at my primary school, and I did feel a little lost here sometimes. So many teachers, so many different subjects, and after the first three years a different set of students for the various classes too. I became part of a small group of good friends that I got to know very well, and that I felt comfortable with.

Then at university the whole setting changed. You had lectures and tutorials for some 10 to 15 hours a week, the rest of the work you did at home or at the library. I felt a little overawed by it all, especially early on, and it took me some time to feel at home in this big place. I did learn so much though. I went through the old style university education, so I had three years to get my bachelors degree and managed to take courses in all subjects related to the English language. So I took courses in grammar, phonetics, stylistics and semantics, as well as the history of the English Language; I learned Old English and Middle English, and I learned all about English literature. I learned to analyse and think for myself. I was never one for extensive research in secondary sources, though I did do that, I always wanted to work out what I could make of the texts first. I did a lot of close readings of poetry, and enjoyed that, and I just read as much as I possibly could. But I always enjoyed reading and studying novels more than anything.

My one year at Southampton University was special, because there I could take any course I wanted, and I didn't take any exams. I wrote papers, attended tutorials and lectures, but it gave me a chance to concentrate on the subjects that I was most interested in. So I attended three different Shakespeare courses, for first, second and third-year students, which gave me a chance to read all of Shakespeare in one year, and attend classes on the plays. I went to lectures on 19th century novelists and modernist writers and got to read a lot for those classes too. I remember reading four Dickens novels in four weeks and attending tutorials on them with a Dickensian lecturer, a peculiar man, with peculiar habits. It seemed just right though.

Back in Leiden I started my specialisation, taking courses on Modern Poetry, on the myth of Odysseus/Ulysses in literature, on the history of comedy. They gave me some lasting literary interests. I still love modern poetry, and during that course I was asked to present a paper on R.S. Thomas, still a great favourite. And I ended up writing my thesis on Restoration Comedy, another favourite still.

There also are teachers I remember because they gave me something special. My first teacher at primary school with her great gentleness and love for children, a real lady to me always. My French, Latin and Dutch teachers at secondary school who all impressed me for various reasons. My French teacher always was so disciplined and in control of herself and in that way was a great example, whereas my Latin teacher, a very nice man, always seemed a little out of this world and he could always quite easily be distracted from teaching.

The literature professor during my first year at university who always encouraged me to think and analyse for myself, probably the most important thing he could have taught me. And my modern poetry lecturer, who gave me the biggest compliment by telling me that my paper had given him new insights into R.S. Thomas and had brought him back to the works. He was a lovely man.

(In)Formal

Then you get your university degree and you get to go out in the world, fully educated. It just wasn't true. I am suddenly reminded of my driving instructor here. It took me quite a while to get my drivers licence, I took 44 lessons in exactly one year, I had the first lesson on October 4 and took my test on October 4 of the following year. I went to take my test, though I wasn't overly confident, but I did pass that first time. When I came back into the hall where my instructor was waiting for me and told him I had passed he looked at me rather incredulously, probably even more surprised than I was.... I think we were both right to be a little nervous at the time because I had quite a few near-accidents over the next few months, and scared a
fair few people, including my favourite uncle.

But I digress. When you finish your education your desire to learn doesn't stop, it never does. I still take courses on all kinds of subjects. The last one I did was on digital photography last year, but I learned more languages, took a course on interior design, on modern architecture, on Amsterdam history, on psychology. And then there are all the courses at work, on project management, risk analysis, programme management, time management, the history of Amsterdam and on all kinds of subjects related to personal development. Not all courses are necessarily that great in themselves, but you are forced to take a step back and maybe question things you take for granted.

If you keep an open mind you are always learning. I learn from all the people I meet, I learn from the books I read, even, or maybe especially from all the novels. I learn about birds and nature by just being outside, especially if I go out with someone like Jurren, who knows so much. And I learn from everything I do at work, I learn from travelling on Europa. It's always good to start out and try new things. Formal education can give you a lot of skills that are basic to leading a full life. I can't imagine a life without reading, a life without literature, without knowledge. I like the richness I get from knowing other languages, from knowing about my culture and other cultures, from knowing about my history, about where I come from. It's the
informal education that really teaches you though. You need the formal skills, but only by using them do you really learn. I learn most from other people, from watching people, talking to them, listening to them now, because I spent so many years already learning from books.

Also, I have reached the age where you start to pass on your knowledge and experience, so I sometimes teach courses at work, and I am a coach, and that is something I really enjoy, and something I learn a lot from again. It is good to test what you know, and to find out if it still holds true, or if maybe others have different views that can change your ideas again. I like finding out these things, and not getting stuck or standing still.

Change Your Underwear, Change Your Life

A few years ago I found this book in a second hand bookshop, and couldn't resist. It is one of those self-help books, but this one is great. The cover is the best shade of bright pink, with a pair of lovely red lips on there, and lots of little red hearts. I know psychology self-help books are as popular and as addictive as diet books, that is why this is such a great book. This is the "quick and easy" variety, very practical, often very silly, though that is probably not intentional, very obvious and great fun. Some things in there are worth trying, others just make you laugh. Changing your underwear obviously does not refer to finally putting on something clean after a couple of weeks and getting strange glances from friends, co-workers and fellow passengers on a tram. Just thought I'd explain.

For me, really, if there is a crisis in my life, or if I really need to change things, it is my hair that goes. I always get this uncontrollable urge to cut my hair really short, and after that things start to change. Or I start to make changes. In the book someone mentions that dyeing your hair does the trick as well. Maybe I should try that next time, my hair isn't long enough right now to make a big change.

But back to the book. It's actually a comparatively old book, published in 1996, and has some sort of public health warning saying this is nog official therapy and the authors are not taking any responsibility. The book is aimed at women and is written from a fairly conservative point of view, at least, to my European eyes. Looking at the tips on relationships I sometimes wonder if I am supposed to treat my boyfriend like my partner, my son or my dog. I can't quite tell. Then again, fortunately I can work that one out for myself.

The language is wonderful too. This is a book for and about "vibrant females". About using tears as a negociating tactic. And it is a book where joining a dating service is described as an interpersonal skill. But it does teach me at least how to "grab my man's attention". It's simple, I "hang on his shoulder like an adoring ornament", I "laugh at his jokes"and I "act interested in everything he says". Or, I can use the complimenting technique. It's as easy as that.

I am making fun of it, and some of it is way over the top, but, as with all books like this, there is some truth in there somewhere. It just feels like this one is all about play acting, rather than being genuine, and that never works.

And if anyone wonders after all of this, yes I did.

Fallen Woman

I have a great talent that really I need to share. I know that people are supposed to be modest and all that, but it is time to be honest instead. I have a great talent for falling over. There is nothing I need to do to achieve that, it just happens to me naturally. I don't need to go out and take risks or do dangerous things, I don't need to get drunk first or keep my eyes closed, I can do it just like that, no problem. And I can do it in a spectacular way.

My most recent major achievement was on board the ship just 6 weeks ago. This ship has various decks, the main deck is where all the cabins are, the galley, a lounge and a long corridor. In this corridor are hatches that provide access to the dungeons below. Yes, you can guess, at one point one of the hatches was open, the one leading down to the water maker. I was talking to someone in the lounge, looking back while heading down into the corridor, and headed down into the big hole instead. It is one of those experiences you don't realise you are going through, until it's over. One moment I was standing in the lounge, the next I was dangling in this gap. I was lucky this time, my left shinbone landed on the little stepladder, my right thigh got stuck on the edge. I remember just sitting there, not really realising what had just happened and where I was. That lasted a moment, then people around me started to react, while I just sat there. And then I got up, walked out and went on to do the things I needed to do at that point. About fifteen minutes later I checked my leg and saw a huge bump on my shin bone, and that shook me. The doctor put some ice on it, and only then I almost fainted, sitting on deck. I guess delayed shock. I am still reminded of that fall, because now, six weeks later, there still is a bump on my shin, the wound hasn't healed completely and my thigh still looks blue and it keeps itching. It's not that bad, and I do realise it could have been a lot worse and that in a way I was lucky, but it does make you think.

I have a pretty good history of falling over, though I usually do a much better job of it on a bicycle. I can remember quite a few incidents happening over the years. I can remember cycling to school every day and regularly falling off my bike. I once thought I could just make the traffic light, so I accelerated a little. What I didn't expect was the two people in front of me stopping when the light turned orange. I knew what was going to happen, and it felt like a film shown in slow motion, but I was heading straight for them. I remember hitting them, and falling down and I remember wishing them a good morning lying there on the street.

Another time I still remember was just on the other side of the bridge, when my wheel got stuck in the tram tracks. I very slowly started to keel over until I finally landed on the ground. These were the slow falls, the ones where you know what is going to happen and you consciously experience falling down. The ones where you know what is happening, you know you don't want it to happen, but there just isn't anything you can do about it.

Then I remember the times it all happened so fast I just found myself on the floor without having experienced the fall itself. I once cycled home from work at the beginning of winter, crossed the white of a zebra crossing while turning a corner, and suddenly found myself on the ground. Then there was the time I ignored a red light, checked for traffic from my left, but didn't check my right. This still is Amsterdam, so another cyclist hit me from the right cycling in the wrong direction so I didn't expect her. I guess it was both of us breaking the rules, but I remember this girl started yelling at me. And this again happened without me realising what happened until I was on the street. And once in winter cycling on the Apollolaan, turning a corner just opposite the Hilton hotel en finding myself on the floor again. My darling partner told me not to make a fuss, to get up so we could continue on our way to the Naardermeer, but I couldn't get up. A very nice passer-by helped me up, and got me a taxi and that is how I got home. I hurt my arm quite badly and needed help getting dressed for a while. But I think that is the worst that has happened so I'm not complaining really.

Dusk

I went swimming later than usual today, and walked back just after six. I suddenly got that feel of dusk again, the moment when it just starts to get a little darker. It is something I remember from long ago, when I used to love cycling home just around the time when it got dark, especially on a Friday afternoon, when there always seemed a sense of expectation in the air. I felt that again today. Or maybe it is spring?

Foggy

Today it isn't the blinds that keep me from seeing the Rijksmuseum, it's the fog. I can't even see Carré, which is less than 100 metres from where I am and not a small building. It felt lovely and wintery this morning cycling through the park. I was surrounded by this thick mist, and I felt the cold through my coat on my skin. I like winter mornings like that, but this morning didn't have the usual winter quiet. I could hear the woodpecker in the park, along with some of
the other park birds, getting ready to start breeding, and making a lot of fuss about it. A few years ago a woodpecker had a nest in a tree very close to my house and going back home from work I could see the young demanding their food.

Batty

Last night I saw a bat from my living room window. It took me a moment to recognise it again, because I hadn't seen one for years. Good to know they still are out there.

Resisting Temptation

Such a beautiful spring day. They say it's going to rain the rest of this week so I really enjoyed the sunshine today. I spent my lunch break sitting on a bench near the river Amstel, watching the world go by, and talking to a colleague. After that it is very hard to get back to work again, but I did manage today.

I also managed to buy chocolates for someone at the best patisserie in the Netherlands without buying any of these really delicious looking Easter eggs and other chocolates for myself. Not an easy thing to accomplish.

More Music Please

Concert time again. A very intimate concert this time at the KHL in Amsterdam. New names, but fun to listen to. Reni Laine is an 18-year old singer songwriter from New York touring the Netherlands, where she is finally allowed to legally drink. That's one way of looking at the country, I guess. I did like her music and she was a nice girl. Then Ysis from Zwolle, very different, but I also enjoyed hearing them. Good voices.

All this did make me look forward to Eleni Mandell's concert here in April though. I listen to the cd over and over again, and keep hearing new things in there. The lyrics are not the least bit predictable and I like that very much. I also like the laid-back style, the arrangements and I like her voice.

I really feel like going to concerts at the moment, and fortunately I have quite a few planned right now. And so many different ones too, which makes it good fun. There's An Pierlé coming up, Mondo Leone and Zita Swoon. Maybe Reni Laine again. And I am already looking forward to Christy's concert here in May.

Locked out

After being locked in earlier this week I was locked out today. We share our front door with the next door neighbours and he managed to have his bike stolen with all his keys still in, so they changed the lock while I was out walking. It does feel strange coming back, trying your key, and finding out it really doesn't work. I did notice the lock was shinier than usual, and ringing the neighbour's doorbell brought the answer, and a new key.

Out in the dunes today you could feel that it is almost spring now. So many birds out making a lot of noise, trying to attract mates and defend territories. I saw a Kingfisher at the start of the walk, diving and catching a nice meal. It was a hybrid walk in a way, because all the winter ducks were still there, the Mergansers and Goldeneyes, but the first chiffchaffs were making themselves heard too. And I got to see the first new frogs.

One of the reasons why I got to see so much is that we were out with a group of 6 nature guides, all watching out and listening and that is one sure way of getting to see just about all there is out there. And we managed the walk without being guides, so not too many arguments about the direction to take.

Temptation

My spring spending spree doesn't seem to have ended yet, last Saturday I got some new boots. This is the first time in a few years I've had proper, winter boots, as opposed to short, high-heeled ones with laces. I like those because they are so nineteenth century. The new ones feel comfortable now though, it still is a bit chilly out there, and it is very wet at the moment.

And then this morning I was walking past this small shop and I saw lots of nice dresses and skirts in the window. I tried a few things on and had fun again. I just bought one dress, a really nice black and white one. I know I shouldn't, but there you go. These things just happen and there isn't a thing I can do about it.

Now it's only the red shoes left....

Rat

I saw a rat this morning as I was walking down a small nearby shopping street. I do know they live here in the city, but I was so surprised it took me some time to work out what it was I was looking at.

Lent: the Rules and Regulations (1992)

Boudewijn's Lent rules and regulations are strict, and I must confess I don't quite stick to them. They make good guidelines though, and as a whole they make sense.

During the 46 days of Lent (Ash Wednesday through to Easter) the participants will adhere to the following rules:

Food:
Maximum per day:
2 slices of bread with either butter or any one of the following: cheese, jam, sandwich spread, marmite, tomato, radish, peanut butter.
100 grams of meat or fish
2 potatoes or the equivalent in rice, pasta etc.
at least 5 spoonfuls of vegetables, raw if possible
for desert: natural yoghurt, low fat, no sugar
at least 2 pieces of fruit

Maximum per week:1 bowl of soup
Maximum for the entire period:1 French fries, piece of cake, apple pie or other treat

Drinks:
Maximum per day:
3 drinks: coffee, tea (milk or sugar) fruit juice
as much milk or water as you like

Maximum per week:1 soda
Maximum for the entire period:1 alcoholic beverage

Smoking limitations:
Maximum per day:2 cigarettes or 1 cigar

Exercise:
Every day: a ten-minute walk other than you would normally doEvery week: a long walk or bicycle ride, a swim of at least 30 minutes

Religious (optional):
Every week: 1 church visit (preferably different churches)

The Great Escape

Well, I managed to escape in time to vote, so I did. Another environmentally, people and woman friendly vote was cast. It takes more than a simple lock to keep me from voting...

High on the Tower

Sometimes you find yourself in a strange situation. I worked from home this morning, and this afternoon I wanted to go out to go swimming and to go out and vote. I went downstairs, but found out that for some reason I couldn't open the door with my key. That hasn't been going smoothly for a while anyway, but now I find myself locked into my own home. I cannot go swimming, which is a pain, but I do want to go out and vote. I have this theory that this has been engineered by some right wing political party, just to keep me from voting. No, of course I'm not paranoid, I'm perfectly sane.

I am now waiting for a knight in shining armour to come and rescue me, preferably before the evening, so I can escape from my foes and quietly sneak out and vote. It makes me feel like a damsel in distress waiting high up in her tower.

Eleni

I just discovered the music and wisdom of Eleni Mandell:

I want roads that I can drive on
I want a man that I can rely on

All in a song about a salt truck. Wonderful.

Dangerous Driving

I nearly got run over again cycling into work this morning. Sometimes people ask me if it is safe to cross the Drake Passage on such a small sailing ship, and I can always say that it is safer to do that, or to fly in an airplane, than it is to go cycling in Amsterdam. Sometimes that is just a joke, but this morning I got run onto the pavement by one of those men in a van who was not really paying attention to the cyclist riding to his right. And then I realise it is true, that cycling in Amsterdam can be a dangerous business.

Seabirds

A weekend of seabirds. The annual meeting of the Bird of Prey society, a lot of lectures in a small theatre in the north of the country. I usually attend the lectures, but this time I was out there for the "Save the Albatross" campaign. Not strictly speaking birds of prey maybe, but I guess you could call them the ocean's birds of prey. And they deserve to get more attention. We managed to raise some money for the campaign again, and raise awareness of the plight of the seabirds in the Southern Oceans.

These birding days are special days. You get to meet the same people at the various fairs, some you know by name, others you know better. This time one of the guests of my last Antarctic trip turned up, but I did expect him too. Then there is a couple I meet at all sorts of birding events, and sometimes in the field. I remember them once turning up an early Sunday morning out of the woods carrying a high ladder because they had been inspecting nesting boxes.

At this fair I found a nice copy of Edward Wilson's "Birds of the Antarctic", a 1987 reprint, but in very good condition. I got to see a little more Wilson over the weekend at the house of a seabird enthousiast I stayed with. He collects bones, skulls and skeletons of seabirds, and he has quite a collection. He does a lot of research into the subject and he knows a lot about it. It is strange though, to see the skulls of some of the birds I saw flying in the South earlier this year on display in a glass case in someone's house. I had to disappoint him though. He hasn't got the skull of a gentoo penguin and I remember holding one in my had at Aitcho to show our guests. I had to leave it behind, of course, even though it was very beautiful. No souvenirs from Antarctica.

This collector also has a nice collection of books and he has a copy of the original Terra Nova bird report with Wilson's drawings. Most of these are in the 1967 book, but not all, and it was lovely to see them in this report. Now I know I'll have to get hold of that somehow.

I don't know what it is about Wilson's drawings that makes them so special. When I first found "Birds of the Antarctic" at the Arctic weekend a couple of years ago I took one look at the book and just fell in love with Wilson's art. The drawings are so lifelike and delicate, and I liked the fact that many of the ones in the book are not finished, they are just sketches. On reading more about the man I came to appreciate the art even more. I now have a lot of material published about him, and I still find him fascinating.

Oma

Today was my grandmother's birthday. If she was still alive she would have been 98 now.

Roll On Summer

I got back from the Antarctic about three weeks ago, I think, I am still having trouble keeping track of time sometimes. It still is winter here, but it isn't really, there is a sense of spring in the air. It isn't really cold anymore, the Godwits are back (1500 in Geijssel's wetland, I read this morning), and the shops are full of the new summer fashion and it is great. I have to confess to buying yet another skirt and top today. And this is the woman who for several years went shopping for clothes twice a year, and only when the holes in her jeans were so big wearing them was becoming positively indecent. For the last couple of years that has been changing again and I am back to wearing dresses and skirts in the summer. Now I finally have a womens bike again I can wear them to work too. I have lost some weight over the past couple of months for all sorts of reasons, and the great thing is that I now fit into all of last year's new clothes again too. So, roll on the summer, I say, I'm ready for it this year. I'm looking forward to the sunshine, the bright colours, the liveliness in the city, and to not wearing at least three layers of clothing all the time.

Ik wil alleen maar zwemmen...

is the title of a Dutch song, and it says "I Just Want to Swim". Sometimes that is just how I feel and that is probably why I like the song so much. Over the past couple of years I have really come to love swimming for all sorts of reasons.

When I work from home in the winter swimming is an absolute necessity, because it is the only way I can defrost at lunchtime. This is a pretty cold house, and after a morning at the computer I am chilled to the bone. Half an hour in the pool, and maybe just a few minutes in the sauna, and I have the use of my fingers back...

Working at the computer was a reason for me to start swimming again anyway. I got a lot of RSI-related complaints and my physical therapist advised me to go swimming. I did, and my computer habits may have improved a little, I think it is the swimming that has helped me deal with the complaints really. The muscles in my back and shoulders are a lot stronger than they were two years ago.

Then there is the exercise, it is a great way to keep all of your body fit, you need to use most muscles, legs, arms and shoulders, but also your back and your stomach.

The sheer relaxation of being in a swimming pool and the only thing you need to do for an hour or half an hour is swim. Move your legs and your arms, make sure you don't hit anybody and that is it. No distractions, nothing else going on, just swimming.

And then there is the pure sensation of being in the water. The moment you gently lower yourself into the pool and feel yourself being surrounded by water, that just feels great.

I swam for an hour yesterday, and again today, and it just felt so good. I should try and do that every day, but there just isn't enough time to do that.

Energy

I seem to have all this energy these days and I am not sure where it comes from. Maybe it's just spring and the longer hours of daylight, I don't know. There are about a hundred things I want to do, and I can never do more than one at a time it seems. There is a whole list in my mind of what I want, and it is way too long for me to actually do something about it. I'd like to go swimming more, just because I enjoy it so much and because it is so good for me. I want to read more, I just got the latest Marianne Frederiksson from the library and I can't wait to start it. I want to write more, on my blogs and also just for myself, and there is a whole list of people whose emails I still want to reply to. I need to sort out the pictures from my trip to send to the people who are in them. I've been reading a lot of poetry again, and I want to read more. I've been keeping in touch with friends by phone and mail, but I want to go out and see them to talk to them. I want to go and listen to more concerts, I have a few planned, but I have a great hunger for new music. I want to go back to learning Spanish, after yet another time in Ushuaia where half the conversations with local people went straight past me, and I don't want that happening to me again. But I'd also like to see more plays and films. The list is too long really. I'm just going to make a start, that is probably the best thing to do.

Reading Glasses

Since I am not 18 anymore things have slowly began to go downhill. Well, I'm okay generally, I can still walk a few miles if I have to, I can still cycle into work at some speed. But it's the eyes that are beginning to give out. I got glasses when I was 11, and then started wearing contact lenses some 15 years later. Now I'm back to glasses, because I need reading glasses. I went to the optician a while ago to have my eyes checked and he was a very nice and a very funny man. He just advised me to get some cheap reading glasses ("Oh, so I can go to the department store next door and get some". "Yes, or you could get them from me") and told me that that would be enough for the next few years, it all shouldn't get much worse. He had the same problem as me "Well, we are more or less the same age". He was something of a charmer.

Now I find myself becoming more and more dependent on my glasses. In a shop I have trouble reading the ingredients on various products, and sometimes I need to to make sure they really are vegetarian, at the computer I sometimes cheat and make the letters a little bigger, but I do need my glasses, and now it is during meetings I have to get them out when I want to read the minutes. I'm not the only one, but it does take some getting used to.

Luka Day

I just got Luka's new CD, "Tribe". He's made this one together with Simon O'Reilly, so it's different from his other work. Then again, Luka is forever changing, finding new roads. I am not sure what to think of this one yet, I guess I'll need a little time to get used to it. It is very interesting to listen to, though, and I don't think I will tire of it soon. It is one of the things I like about Luka, he will always come up with something else entirely and will still be Luka.

Blinds

The blinds in this place live a life of their own. As I sit here trying to get my project organised they go down again, and I am in my little cage. Then, shortly after, they go up again. I know they are testing at the moment, but it is a little silly, and pretty distracting, especially if you are trying to think.

Darkness and Light

I work in a little glass box. It's narrow, isolated, but nice and quiet. Today it is strange though because I seem to be locked in. Last week new brise-soleils (?) were placed on the windows, and for some reason they are closed today. Not that there is any sun, they simply are closed and there is no way I can open them. It makes for a very limited view of the world and for a lot of darkness. I prefer to be in a place where there is a lot of light, and where I can look out and see something of the world.

As I am writing this, suddenly, I get my view on the world back. No sunshine, but a grey and cloudy day, the kind of day that makes you want to either go home and crawl up in bed with a really good book, a box of chocolates and a pot of tea, or go for a long walk in the dunes. No such luck for me today...

Anatomy

Yesterday I was at the Natural History Museum. They have a great bookshop, so whenever I am in Leiden I try to go and have a look. This time I went to the museum itself again, I was tempted by the "Extremes" exhibition, all about extreme heat, cold, wet, dry. That was pretty good, a lot of things to do for children, like there are everywhere in the museum. You could test the wind chill factor, for example, which was quite funny to do. And they showed an Antarctic Ice Fish, which I found interesting.

I hadn't been to the museum for about a year or so, and you always forget so much. Like the three whale skeletons, or part whale skeletons right at the back. After being back in Antarctica and at the whale museum in Harberton I noticed these again particularly, a Sperm Whale, a Southern Right Whale and a Sei Whale.

I also ended up in the other temporary exhibition on human anatomy. I don't think I saw all of it, it felt a little strange walking round there. They showed a lot of samples from the anatomical museum of Leiden University Hospital, so you get to see a lot of things that can go wrong, and these aren't models. And to see a cross section of a human head is fascinating, but it also is pretty disconcerting. I wasn't really prepared for this, because I didn't know the exhibition was on. The images stay with me though, they did make an impression.

Where Blue Lives

I went back to the place where blue lives. It is as far south as you can go, where the world seems white, but is blue deep down. The ice and the snow make Antarctica seem white at first, but when you get a glimpse of the world underneath, through the icebergs you see floating everywhere, or on the sides of the glaciers, you can see the purest and the deepest blue. To me that is a sign that blue is the colour of the world underneath, like the world you can find under the surface of the sea. That big white continent hides the ultimate blue somewhere deep down inside, it is part of the mystery.

The south can bring out the best in people I have seen. People are rendered speechless. Some can sit for ages on deck looking at the scenery, or can kneel down on a beach to try and ocmmunicate with a penguin. This year we sailed through the Lemaire Strait on an extremely misty day, you couldn't see the mountains on either side. You could see the icebergs in the water, and the Crabeaters and Leopard Seals resting on them. You could feel the silence, and it was the most impressive thing to me.

Some people underestimate the south. They start planning their next holiday even before they come into port, and that sometimes frightens me. If Antarctica becomes just another holiday destination, then what will be left of it in 10 years time? How many people will go and simply mark it as another distant place to visit? On some trips we have the dreamers, the people who always dreamed of travelling down to the continent, the quiet ones you slowly have to prise
away at the last landing. They will take the continent with them. Like I do, I guess.

Blast from the Past

In the changing rooms at the swimming pool today they played "Crazy Horses". It always makes me smile.

Land and Water

Yesterday I spent just a few minutes near the old docks, the area of Amsterdam which is being redeveloped and which provides, very fashionable, housing for a lot of people. Some of my colleagues live there. The architecture on Java Island is fascinating, and I like the way the old warehouses are integrated into the new area. The best example of this is the way the Schaeffer bridge lands right underneath an old warehouse, which is still in use these days. It is nice to be near the IJ, to see the water and the way the water and the land fit together.

Oud West

I live in a part of Amsterdam that I really like, though I guess I ended up here more or less by accident. The area is called Oud-West and much of it was built at the end of the nineteenth century, very fast, to provide housing for the lower middle classes. The area has long, straight streets, most houses are about four floors high, and are divided up into appartments. It's a busy area, with too many cars and not enough trees, but it is both urban and suburban enough to feel good. The scale is just right, and I like the architecture.

I also like the history and the liveliness of the place. And then there is the literature. W.F. Hermans, one of Holland's greatest 20th century authors lived here, and wrote about the area, and for me it will continue to be associated with this man and with his work. And part of "De Kleine Waarheid", one of the ultimate Amsterdam novels, takes place in the Brederodestraat. I guess the literary connotations are everywhere simply because the streets are named after Dutch authors.

Towards the centre of Amsterdam, almost on the edge of Oud-West, is the former Wilhelmina hospital, an area now used by artists, which is full of life and has one of Amsterdam's nicest restaurants. The old hospital wasn't demolished, many of the buildings were renovated and are still in use.

I live on the edge of Oud-West, close to the park, where the houses were built just a little later, and my house is just a little bigger and lighter. I live on the third floor, on a corner, so I have a lot of windows and a lot of light coming into my house. That was one of the reasons why I bought it. That and the fact that it still has the old sliding doors, and an original kitchen cabinet. One that reminds me of scenes in the television adaptation of "De Kleine Waarheid".

Why does everything always come back to books?

Lent

Lent just started, the time of year for reflection. I guess that is what it means to me. Lent is a time of taking less, in every respect, of restraint. For me it also is the time when I think of Boudewijn. He was my colleague for almost ten years, and though in some ways I got to know him very well, in other I never really got close to him.

I remember when I first met Boudewijn. The company I worked for had just started out, and was located in a house near a canal. The downstairs room wasn't really in use, there were a couple of desks upstairs with some computers and a printer. I worked there for two days a week as a secretary, just so that I had a steady income while I worked as a free lance journalist for the local paper. I had to answer the telephone, do some data entry work and some secretarial work. The company consisted of a director and two part time employees, but most days I wouldn't see anyone. Then Boudewijn became involved, and he came to inspect me, obviously curious. He gradually became more involved with the company and helped build it to a great extent. He was committed, dedicated and very clever. He worked many more hours than he was paid for, he was always keen to devise new systems and work on new ways of solving problems. And he was creative, so he always managed to come up with these new solutions.

Over the years I became more involved with the company myself, I started working more hours and got many more responsibilities. I started working on projects, and more closely with Boudewijn. He taught me the things I needed to know, and took me with him to meet the people we worked for. Often that would mean travelling down to the various Dutch airports, because the work involved environmental research for airports.

He was passionate about his work, but equally passionate about his music, he played trombone in a band, and about playing golf. He was very upset when he lost his swing for a while. I once went to see his band play at an open air fair and was both surprised and not surprised. Every inch of him was put into the music, and his passion became visible, but in the end it was the same passion he put into his work. I talked to him after the concert, and he was complaining that no one wanted to go in the big roundabout swing with him, so I volunteered. Unfortunately we were just too late, the fair was closing down. That is something I regret.

I always felt Boudewijn lived for the full 200%, and I think he did. We didn't get to talk about personal matters very often, but we did spend a couple of days together counting houses near Groningen Airport. After spending all day together in the car we went out to a Greek restaurant for dinner, and talked about things close to our heart. It is one of those days that I will always remember and that will always be special to me. Just as I remember an asparagus dinner near Eindhoven airport.

What I didn't realise until later was the "black thread" that was always a part of him. When he reached the point where work, and maybe other things, weren't enough anymore he couldn't go on and he ended his life. I remember being very sad, but I also remember being at peace with that from the very moment I heard about it. I had already left the company, but was still in touch with him, and I never doubted his decision. I had such faith in him.

This it the time of year I remember him most because he was in the habit of observing Lent. Not because he was religious, but because he thought of it as a time for reflection, a time of restraint. He had a strict list of exactly what you could or could not eat during those 6.5 weeks, and he would stick to the list no matter what. You could always watch him grow thinner and grumpier, but it was important to him. He wanted to make sure he would stay physically fit and he liked the idea of restraint. For a couple of years I joined him and found out how hard it was, but also how rewarding it was.

I do still miss him sometimes, and when I see a similar looking man on the street I will always think "It's Boudewijn", with a sense of joy, before I realise it cannot be. I guess that means that "The Man is Alive" in some way, and I remember him with great fondness.

Red and Blue

Blue has always fascinated me. I love the colour and I love what it means to me. For some reason the colour always comes back into my life. I had a colleague who had blue as the theme for his life. He was always looking for the ultimate blue, wherever he went and whatever he did. When he was walking around the city he would be looking for blue things that he would pick up, label and store away. He always wore blue, including bright blue shoes, and at his desk even the stapler was blue. He also loved the water, and he loved sailing. The sea was also the place where he would go looking for the ultimate blue, which he thought he would find somewhere between the sea and the sky. Ultimately, that is the place where his life ended.

For me blue is the colour of great depth of things, the colour of the exploration of things nderneath the surface. I guess that is why Luka's "Exploring the Blue" has so much meaning, because the two are inextricably linked.

Then I also love red, because red is the colour of fire, the colour of life, the colour of danger. I love to wear red clothes, because they make me feel good, and they give me a sense of control. It is the colour of the superficial that sets of the blue. The colour that ensures that I don't get lost in too much thought or reflection but also remain alive and part of the world. It is the colour of heat that can set of the cold that can be part of blue. To me the two cannot really be separated, and I need both in my life to make it complete.