Bird Names

Birds can have the most exotic and beautiful names, and some I'd love to see simply because of their names. I'd love to see a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker some time, or a California Quail, and what does a Hairy Woodpecker look like? Or a Bar-bellied Woodpecker? The Slender-billed Flufftail sounds beautiful, but I have no idea what it looks like. And what exactly is the difference between a Rufous-necked Foliage-gleaner, a Rufous-tailed Foliage-gleaner, and a Rufous-rumped Foliage-gleaner? What's a Pilotbird? Or a Pipipi?

I know what Noddys look like, and yes I'd love to see them. That means more sailing... Then there is that great bird, the Blue-footed Booby, which really is Blue-footed, it looks wonderful, as wonderful as its name, but I haven't had a chance to see it yet. There are so many different lapwings and plovers, again with the most fanciful names, and I know they generally look elegant and beautiful.

I know what an Inaccessible Island Rail looks like, I was very close to the place where it lives, but I am highly unlikely ever to get a chance to see it. The same is true for the Tristan Moorhen. They sound wonderful though. And I guess anything with a name containing Tristan, Nightingale, Inaccessible, Chatham, Gough, Kerguelen, Crozet sounds promising to me. I know where to find them, I've read about all these places, these remote islands, and I'd love to visit them all some time.



And I'm lucky, because I've already seem both the Flying and the Flightless Steamerduck. I've seen Avocets, some of the most beautiful birds I know, but I haven't seen the American Avocet yet. I've seen Black-legged Kittiwakes and heard them call their own name. I've seen the beautiful Adelie penguin at the place where it lives, and I have seen the mythological Wandering Albatross, the Sooty Albatross and that extraordinary Light-mantled Albatross. I've seen Wilson's Storm-Petrel, that tiny bird that lives on the roughest oceans of the world. I've seen White-crested Elaenias, Fire-eyed Diucons, even more beautifully described by the Dutch "Vuuroogmonjita". I've seen the Cape Bulbul, a lovely little bird, but I know there are many more Bulbuls out there. And I've seen the Thorn-tailed Rayadito, a small bird as beautiful as its name.



For some birds I know the Latin names, rather than the normal ones, like the Anhinga anhinga, commonly known as Anhinga (?), the Tadorna Tadorna, commonly known as the Common Shelduck, Nycticorax nycticorax, commonly known as the Black-crowned Night Heron (talk about a beautiful name), which I've seen on three continents.



There are nearly 10.000 different bird species in the world, and I've seen only a few of those. I'm not one of those birdwatchers who will chase species just to be able to add them to my list. There are some birds I would love to see though, because they intrigue me, because they look so beautiful on pictures I've seen or in documentaries, because they are part of literature or mythology, or simply because they have such a lovely name.

Then again, there are birds I can sit and watch over and over again. Seeing the first Godwits come back here in the spring, the first Swifts at the end of April, seeing Woodpeckers or Avocets, Stonechats or Wheatears will always make me happy. It's good to keep dreaming as well.

Khadak

I went to see a film about Mongolia the other day, called "Khadak". I had a feeling I might not be able to understand it fully, so I decided beforehand I wasn't going to try. It was a moving film, and it was beautifully filmed. I heard it described as visual poetry, and that is what it was. Some of the images made a great impression, like the way the film opens, a beautiful picture of a young woman counting. There are images of a tree on the plain, filmed in such a special way. You can feel the sadness of the film, the alienation, the depression of the city. I felt connected to the characters, even in such a strange environment.

A few years ago I was given a small pouch by someone who had just visited Mongolia, and in this film I saw that this has a special purpose. The men in the film shared a small flask, and that was kept in just such a pouch. Nice to know.

Reni Was Back

I went to see Reni Laine in the Melkweg last night. She shared the bill with Martin Gabriel and Ralph. It was good to see her and David again. She played another very lively set, playing songs from the American Baby album, and some new ones, which I enjoyed. I liked the new haircut too. She was easily the most interesting of the three acts that appeared on stage last night, and it was good to see her doing so well. She played "American Baby" especially for Paris Hilton....

It was a slightly unusual concert, really, a showcase for three acts, and the Dutch act, Ralph van Manen, appeared to have invited a lot of family and friends, which made for an unusual audience in the Melkweg. They were obviously not regulars. Reni had to make an effort to get people to come closer to the stage because most were a little shy. What I also noticed was that the Dutch audiences seem to get more rude all the time. Some people seemed to talk throughout the evening, even during the quiet songs. And then the mobile phones. You could see the little lights flashing throughout the evening, and people walking out to take the call. I just don't get that.

Little Men

Sometimes I wonder who that little man is, sitting in his office all day checking all these hundreds of thousands of websites for MacAfee, and who keeps telling me which sites are safe to visit, and which will annoy me with lots of pop-ups and messages I don't want. I like him. I think he probably has an office next to the other little man who keeps sending me updates very regularly. They must be pretty busy down there, I think they have a lot of customers to look after.

Nostalgia

My parents are trying to clear out their attic so I'm moving my old stuff out of there. It's a tiny attic so getting my boxes out is a challenge in itself, and then there is the question of what I will actually find in those boxes. To a great extent I know, but I don't know it all. My old dolls are all up there, some other toys, papers and old scrapbooks. Sorting through it all brings back a lot of good memories for me. Playing with those dolls with my friends for hours on end. Postcards I got from my dad when he was at work in another town and couldn't be there during the week. And postcards I got when I was in hospital for a week when I was about 11 years old. Lots of things I made when I was in school, like a small knitted snowman and a purse. And football memorabilia from way back when I was a staunch supporter of the Dutch national soccer team in 1974. Or rather when I supported a player called Johan Neeskens. Some of the things in the boxes I knew about, others I thought had vanished long ago, and some I haven't found yet.

I started out by sorting out my old Barbie dolls. I have quite a few, all vintage now, but they have been played with a lot, so they would not be considered collectible. I liked seeing them again though, because they brought back a lot of good memories, and that is the only thing that makes them really valuable for me. I played with these dolls for hours with my friends, and we lived whole imaginary lives, creating homes and other environments for the dolls to live in. I still have some of the old clothes, my mother knitted a lot of clothes for my dolls. So I still have lots of knitted dresses, capes, sweaters and trousers. It must have taken her a lot of time to make all of them, but they were greatly appreciated. Then there are the little shoes, coathangers, gloves and even lingerie. It's been good fun sorting it out, but then I guess I need to think of what to do with them. For now they will get a nice home in my attic.




I checked my old photo album and found a couple of pictures of me with the dolls. One of them tells me that I got a couple of dolls on my fifth birthday. And, by the way, I still have the pram too, it's still up in the attic.




And that I cherished them enough to hold them all with me for the next Christmas picture.

Bright Eyes Again

I got to see Bright Eyes here in Amsterdam last Wednesday night. They played at the Melkweg, a big venue, which seemed to be sold out. A big crowd in The Max. I've been listening to the latest album, Cassadaga, so much, I know all the songs, and I was very much looking forward to the concert. And I wasn't disappointed.

Conor and the band all wore white suits, a mixed band of men and women, a lot of people on stage, and a great variety of instruments, including cello, violin and flute.



I was way up at the top of the hall, so I sometimes had trouble seeing everything, but I could hear everything very well. And I had brought my binoculars, which helped. It all sounded very much like the album, which I liked in a way. though sometimes it is nice if a concert adds something to the album. Still, considering the arrangements of the albums, I was pleasantly surprised by the sound. I was amazed by the sound of Conor's voice, which managed to send shivers down my spine again, the way it also does when I listen to the albums. There is a haunting quality to his voice and his songs, and it can be hard to get them out of your mind. There seems to be a Bright Eyes song in mine most of the time these days.

Deaf

I'm deaf in one ear, and have been for as long as I can remember. I don't know if I was born deaf or whether I became deaf from the many ear infections I had as a child. The specialist doesn't agree with himself on that issue. He operated on my ear when I was ten, but couldn't solve the problem at the time. He said then that it was caused by scar tissue from the infections. He also told me to come back once I had grown up, he might be able to help me then. When I did, however, he denied ever having operated on me, he could find no scar, and he told me I'd been deaf since birth after a very short inspection. I was stunned and went for a second opinion. The other doctor couldn't determine the cause of my deafness, but did confirm that there wasn't really anything he could do.

For me being deaf has never been much of a problem. In fact, it was only discovered when I was about ten. I knew I had one ear that didn't work, I just never knew this was not the same for everyone. I thought everyone had one good and one bad ear. When I was at school my hearing was tested sometimes, but initially always by someone whispering in one corner of the room, and me being in another corner with one ear covered by my hand. Apparently not a very good testing method. When the testing method was changed and I was given headphones and had to listen to beeps coming from a little box, suddenly it turned out I was deaf in one ear. No surprise to me, I was just surprised other people had two ears to use.

I now know that my deafness can't be cured, and that is okay. I know that are disadvantages to this, but I've lived with those all my life. I need to be extra careful in traffic because very often I can hear traffic approaching, but I don't know from which direction. I can hear birds singing when I'm out walking, but again, I don't know if they are ahead of me or behind me. I don't know what stereo sounds like, and if I'm on the phone I can't hear what goes on anywhere else. At parties or in big groups I'm a little lost because there is too much noise for me to deal with. There are advantages too. If there is too much noise at night, and other people can't sleep, all I have to do is turn over on my good ear and I can't hear anything.

A couple of years ago I discovered that my deafness influenced my life and my development in more ways than I had realised. I had some problems with my shoulders and arms and had to have some physical therapy. The therapist discovered that I was a little crooked. Somehow we came to talk about my being deaf, and she then concluded that was a reason for my being crooked, I always turn my ear to the person talking to me! This is so simple, and nobody thought of it before. Now I know about this I can see myself doing it. If I walk on the "wrong" side of someone, that makes me very nervous, so I can be seen dancing around people to get to the right side so I can hear. And sometimes, if I cannot be on the right side of someone it happens I don't hear what is being said, so I don't reply, and that can be very rude. I try to tell people about being deaf, but I often forget, because it is so natural to me.

Being deaf can also give you a sense of being on the outside, of being shut out. I often have to make an extra effort to hear and it doesn't always work. If I have a meeting for work I like to make sure I get there on time so I can choose a place to sit where I can hear all people present. I don't even think about it anymore, it just comes naturally.

Opening Hours

I had dinner at a Malaysian restaurant yesterday. Why would a restaurant have such opening hours?

Storks

I have storks breeding in my backyard now. I don't know if they have done that before, not in recent years anyway, but they seem to be successful this year. There actually are three young in the nest and they seem pretty big now. They will probably fledge soon. I know there are quite a few storks breeding here again now, but it is very nice to have these big birds breeding right in the middle of the city.

I sat and watched them for a while yesterday afternoon, and seemed to have ended up in a spot where some homeless people hang out. There was one man sitting on a bench to my right, who probably has some kind of disorder. He was talking to himself, gesticulating violently, but not doing any harm. On the bench to my left were three or four men, drinking beers and talking about the storks and the other birds. At some point one of the men put his beer on the bench and turned the other way. Just at that moment the man from the bench to my right walked over, took the beer, and walked back again, looking very innocent. After that the men on my left got into a heated argument about disappearing cans of beer. It was an interesting debate, because one of the men seemed into psychology and he was telling the others how to let go and relax. Then a woman turned up to join the man, and later a black man joined them. These two then got into an argument about money lent and not returned. There was a lot going on in the space of about an hour, but it never felt uncomfortable somehow. We all just sat there, all minding our own business, while a lot of people walked past to have a look at the storks on their nest.

Close to the nest you also get a good chance to see Gray Herons trying to catch a meal. They are much more common here maybe, but still very beautiful. City birds, that you will sometimes find in the middle of the road. Schoffies.



For some really nice pictures of the storks, check:
LEXsample

Fell Off the Bike, Man

I managed to fall off my bike again this morning. I'm getting good at this. I'm still not sure what happened because technically I wasn't even on my bike. I had stopped, coming down off the skinny bridge, to give way to another cyclist, who then stopped to give way to me, and before I knew it I had fallen sideways and hit a little post on the side of the bridge. I was lucky it was there really, or I would have hit the ground. Now it was just my bike hitting the ground. My bike did hit my left shin bone, just on the spot where the ship's ladder hit me last January.

I still have my cold, and almost no voice, I think my brain, my eyesight and my coordination have left with my voice. Things, like doors, keep walking into me. I'm just an easy target at the moment. I guess.

I guess the other cyclist was lucky this morning that I still have no voice, I might have been less than nice. But just now I'm not even sure who is supposed to give way there, no other cyclist has ever stopped there for me. So I might have said something to someone who was actually doing it right and who was being nice.

On my way home this afternoon I had a good look round the crossing there, and yes, I do have the right of way there. Good to know.

Keeping Still

I am minus my voice at the moment. I have a cold, and my capacity to speak is almost zero. Some might say that is nice and peaceful, but to me it is just pretty frustrating. When I try to have a conversation on the phone I have to limit myself to three minutes, then my voice gives in. Not very friendly, but I can't help it. The most frustrating thing is not being able to sing, I don't usually realise how much I sing. Last night I sat and listened to Donny Osmond in concert in Wales, and he sang all my favourites and I couldn't sing along. And again tonight at the Concert for Diana he turned up again and sang Joseph and I had to keep still. It's just not fair.

Up on the Roof

Last night I looked out my window and saw this beautiful rainbow. So I went up on my roof to have a good look....

An Acoustic Motorbike in the Dutch Monsoon

This is the Dutch Monsoon season. After the hot days earlier this year, we now have to deal with the wet days. Sometimes you get lucky and you just see all the rain from inside your home or your office, and you can sit there, staring for a little while, daydreaming, all these romantic songs about rain in your head.

But then you get the days when you look out the window and you realise you need to go somewhere, and that you are going to get wet. Like today. Just when I am getting ready to leave work it looks pretty grey, but not too bad really. Then I have to organise a few things I haven't gotten round to earlier, and by the time I leave it is actually quite wet outside. I don't usually mind too much, and I'm used to it all, and I always think I have good weatherproof gear. Well, I don't.

Going just round the corner from my work I realise that my raincoat has this really wide collar, so, really, you need to use your hand to keep it a little closed and to keep the rain from coming in. The only disadvantage to that is that you gradually get the rain seeping in through your sleeves. And at every corner you have to put both hands on the handlebars anyway.

Gradual is a good word for this process really. At some point, still somewhere in the town centre, I can feel this tiny damp patch appearing on the outside of my right knee. It's always the same place. Then I can feel it spreading. I guess it's both the strong and the weak point of my rain trousers, that big zip at the side. It makes them easy to get into, and it lets the water in.(Just as I'm typing this John Fogerty is singing "Who'll Stop the Rain" at the Glastonbury Festival, which I recorded. It's one of those days. And I guess it was apt for Glastonbury as well).

Usually by the time my right knee is thoroughly wet I reach my house, but today is different. Just as I am cycling into the park, I can feel another damp patch appearing on the outside of my left knee. A first in this process. And here it starts spreading too. For some reason on the right leg it spreads up, on the left one it spreads down. Can anyone give a scientific explanation for this?

At this time I can also feel my socks getting just a little damp, and I can feel the moisture on my arms and shoulders. Today by this time it gets pretty bad, and I don't feel very comfortable cycling under the trees with the thunder and lightning around.

Then I reach my exit out of the park, and I move my foot down just a little to accelerate as I have to climb out of the park. When my sock touches the sole of my shoe with some force I can feel the sock absorb the water and it goes from damp to soaking wet in two seconds flat. Just in the right shoe though, the left just gets a little more damp.

I go into the garage to park my bike there, and as I walk up and out I can feel that the water has by now reached a lot of other parts of me that I shouldn't care to mention here. When I get in I need to change out of all my clothes.

It takes me a little while to get dry again, and then, when I am wearing all these lovely dry clothes again, I get the urge for going. So I grab my bag and I'm off. It's dry outside now, but within 10 minutes I am in the pool. Lovely, all this water...

Bright Eyes

What is it about Conor Oberst and Bright Eyes that can cut right through your soul?

Church Music

Luka Bloom was going to appear at a special, secret concert somewhere in Amsterdam to launch his new album "Tribe". I heard about it some time ago, but the only way to get into the concert would be to order the new cd and then hope you would win a ticket. Now, being the true fan that I am, I ordered the cd from the website when it was first released, so was I going to get another one? While I was still thinking about that I saw at an Amsterdam record shop that if you pre-ordered the cd there you would get a ticket, so I figured that might be a better option. I'd have another copy of the cd, but that is okay because I don't mind giving away Luka cds as a present. Then I heard about a competition you could simply enter through the internet, one very difficult question, "what is Luka Bloom's real name", and you could win two tickets. So I thought I'd try that one first, and if it didn't work, I'd go and order the cd.

Well, I ended up winning tickets for the concert in the Amstelkerk today through the competition of the record company, so I was very happy. An unexpected Luka concert at an unusualy venue and at an unusual time. The concert was held in the daytime, so the sunlight was streaming in through the high windows of the church. Luka could see his audience as well as we could see him. The Amstelkerk isn't a traditional church building, it's a little like an open square with the building surrounding it, even when you're inside the building. I think Luka enjoyed the atmosphere. He mentioned 4 seconds during his childhood when he had considered being a priest and this was probably as close as he was ever going to get. So he started with "We are gathered here today...." The setlist was a little different from most concerts, and different from the concert last night in Utrecht:

Throw Your Arms Around Me (for Chris from the record company, celebrating his 20th wedding anniversary today)
As I Waved Goodbye (rehearsing for a performance before the Dalai Lama in Derry in July)
Here and Now
Sunny Sailor Boy (a chance for the congregation to sing)
Lebanon
Tribe
I Am A River (with the help of Paddy Apple)
Out There (with Paddy again)
Change (with Paddy)
Exploring the Blue (where he forgot the words to one of the verses and needed a little time to recover)
Wave Up to the Shore (Luka was inspired by the atmosphere an he sang this a capella and "unplugged": it was very powerful and beautiful.)

Encore (both songs were requests):
Primavera
Black Is the Colour (ending unplugged again)

The set really suited the venue, and made this a very special and unusual concert. Some of the new songs for the first time live for me, and then this beautiful old song "Wave Up to the Shore". Luka seemed relaxed and he was in great voice. He came out to sign cds after the concert and took time to chat to people, which was nice. I'm looking forward to the concerts in October now.

Literary Ladies

Last night I was being all cultural again, I went to a reading by three women writers, Edna O'Brien, Esther Freud and Rachel Cusk. Chair for the evening was the Belgian Kristien Hemmerechts. She was the reason I went to this evening, really. I've read almost all her books, and find her writing extremely moving, exciting and challenging. She makes me think. She also demands a lot from her readers, and when I've read one of her books I need to read some other things before I can go on to the next one. She signed one of my books last night, and I am very pleased about that. The reason why she was chair for the evening is that she is a lecturer in English Literature at Brussels University. She created a pretty good and lively debate.

I've read a few books by Edna O'Brien and like her writing, but I didn't really know the two other women. I liked Esther Freud though, her clear thinking and outspoken ideas, close to home for me. Rachel Cusk seemed a little more chaotic and less in control, but she admitted that that was much the point of her writing. Life seems to happen to her much of the time, and in her novels she is in control. I did like that idea very much, it's one way of trying to make sense of what is happening in and around you.

The debate was about feminism, female writers, about illness and death, about political writing, and the themes seemed to come back all evening and be closely related. One of the issues was the use of autobiographical material in novels and that sparked a heated debate. Would a question about this be asked of a male writer? Is there a difference in this respect between men and women? Rachel Cusk got very fired up about this. And aren't all good books political without dealing with overtly political issues? I cannot imagine a good and worthwhile book that isn't in some way political. I guess it all depends on how you define the word political though. It was an interesting debate.

Edna O'Brien was very clear about most of the issues. She held that you do write from within yourself, from your own experience. That is what you start out with, and then you discard all the things you don't need. It's the discarding that fascinates me.

Just Around the Corner

OK, so I thought it was a good idea at the time, we all make mistakes. There is this small Italian restaurant just round the corner from where I live. I walk past it several times a week, the people always seemed friendly, and I like small, slightly unusual restaurants. So I went to have dinner there last night. I mean, just round the corner, Italian, what can go wrong?

Well, it's a little hard to order your dinner if the waiter only speaks Italian, and you don't really speak any. And if there is no menu, just a little piece of paper with a few choices in Italian. And then you order a glass of white wine and a beer for your dinner companion and you get a bottle of white wine instead. You manage to get across that you are a vegetarian, which is enough for the waiter, so he tells you. Shortly after you get a huge salad, very nice, but huge. And then you get a full plate of pasta, again, very nice, but a full plate. And just when you think it is all quite sufficient, you get a piece of pie, a glass of liqueur and a coffee.

I mean, it tasted quite well, but all I wanted was a main course and a glass of wine. And then, when it's all over you begin to wonder. How did this happen? Where was I? Why didn't I say something at the time? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. Usually. I managed to walk home, I managed to get up the stairs, but that is all I managed for the rest of the evening. I did try, but all I could do really was go to bed at 9.30 and go straight to sleep. And then wake up at 1.30 and stay awake for most of the rest of the night. And then you get a very nice friend tell you in the morning, all the way from Belgium, that you have a hangover. I mean, what is happening with the world? Hangover? Me? I mean, I thought it was a good idea at the time....

International Week

Sometimes things happen almost by accident. Last week I found a cousin of mine who's been living in the United States for the past 14 years, and I hadn't seen her or been in touch with her for all that time. I know the internet is a mixed blessing, but this is a really nice thing to happen. She lives in the mountains on a little farm, but I can still be in touch with her, exchange photographs and find out what's been happening.

And then, when I got home from the theatre last Saturday night, I checked my emails to find my brother in law on-line. So, I ended up chatting with a relative in Mexico. He's only there for a holiday, but it was nice to catch up with what's been happening with him. I just realised though, I forgot to ask if he has bettered his record on the 5 km. I'll have to wait until he gets back home. To Belgium that is. Where he lives.

And I didn't even get to leave the country.....

Fiona Shaw

I used to go to the theatre in London a lot, and saw a lot of very good actors and actresses. One of those was Fiona Shaw. I first saw her at the RSC playing Celia opposite Juliet Stevenson's Rosalind in "As You Like It", then Kate to Brian Cox's Petruchio in "The Taming of the Shrew", and Mistress Carol opposite Alex Jennings' Fairfield in James Shirley's Hyde Park, a lovely production. And then I saw her again a few years later in "The Way of the World" at the National Theatre. She's an unusual and impressive actress who manages to create something new when she is up on stage. It seems a little sad that her best known work seems to be Aunt Petunia to Harry Potter.

She was in Amsterdam today to present "Readings", a performance directed by Deborah Warner, in which she read some of her favourite poetry. Some Shakespeare and Chekhov, little readings from plays in which she played all the parts. A lot of Yeats and some Dickinson. She moved easily from one piece to another, from one setting to another and created an intimate and moving performance. She ended with the story of Paolo and Francesco in the words of Jeannette Winterson, a moving story very beautifully told. There was such emotion there, that quite amazed me. It was nice to see that one woman, with very few props and staging could hold the attention of the audience with her voice and the words of great poets. I was very tired when I entered the theatre, but spellbound throughout the performance. It took me a little time afterwards to come back down to earth.

Ela(n)stiek

Yesterday I was at a festival, lovely atmosphere and wonderful music. The festival is called Elastiek and it takes place in a small village in the south of the country. A lot happens there, an outdoor market, games for the children, street theatre, and a lot of music. Two big stages, and a lot of performers, with some big names in there. The atmosphere was good, lots of volunteers and very few police. Some places were very crowded, but nobody got aggressive. It is a strange mixture, really. There are a lot of commercial activities, you can buy clothes, jewellery and other trinkets, there are some second-hand bookstalls. You can buy all kinds of food and drink everywhere, get a henna tattoo, support charitable organisations and you can get beer everywhere.

I was there to see An Pierlé again, really. Her first show in the Netherlands for about 6 months, so I couldn't really miss that. She played in a big tent in the Church Square. A slightly shorter concert than usual, and a different atmosphere, because not everybody was in there for the music, and there was a lot of talking at the bar in the background. She left out some of the really quiet songs, a good decision. A very mixed audience this time, some who had never heard of An. I talked to a man who was complaining about having to pay a lot of money for concert tickets to see people who didn't even make much of an effort. This time he got a lot of effort from the people on stage for free. He must have left the tent a very happy man. A lot of children there too, and a lot of photographers.


The accordeon seems to get more and more battered. A few keys were missing last time, this time it seemed to be held together by tape in some places as well. It still produced the right sound though. The little play that is part of Sing Song Sally these days seems to get more and more extensive. An obviously enjoys it.

A lot of children had found themselves a good place between the barrier and the stage. An made good use of that, persuading some 7 or 8 little boys to join her on stage for the final song "Paris s'eveille". The boys needed a little direction at first, but soon they got into the spirit and provided some good dancing in the background.


I had a go at taking pictures again. I'm not that good at taking pictures under such difficult circumstances, but I guess I got lucky and was in the right place at the right time. I actually managed to get some nice photographs this time, and I'm really pleased about that. Now I need a little more practice. The concerts in my backyard are about to start again, so I might have a go at some of those.

Bible

I started rereading the Bible last week. I once read all of it, reading five chapters a day, and I've started doing that again. I've just started Exodus, the big stories of Creation, the Flood, Abraham, Jacob and Esau, Joseph in Genesis behind me, and now Moses to take his people out of Egypt shortly. I'm enjoying doing this again because it's been so long, and though I do know all the stories, it is good to go back to the source and read the details again. I'll be in the middle of the big stories for a while yet, but I'm already looking forward to the psalms and the prophets.

A Grand Day Out

Not Again...

I went swimming again today, and I had to drag myself out of the pool in the end, because I really had to go. Maybe someone can remind me that I'm an idiot next time I decide not to go swimming because there are all these other important things I need to do.

Swifts Again

The sky is full of Swifts today. It's a beautiful sight, those dark, acrobatic flyers against a bright blue sky.

Christy Was Here

Christy played Carré last night. I remember his little brother Luka playing there a few years ago now, a wonderful concert that resulted in the live album "Amsterdam". Now it was Christy's turn. I last saw Christy in Paradiso, twice, about 18 months ago. I can remember the moment he came out on stage, this great personality in a simple black shirt and trousers, but such great stage presence. The concert gave me goosebumps more than once.

Christy can seem the most beautiful, tender ballads, and then turn with great force to his more political songs. And he has all of his great comic stories, the story of Joxer, of Casey and of Knock. They make for some great fun during the concerts. It makes for a varied concert, but he does it all with great commitment and passion. Part of the list, the git's list as it says on Christy's book, really is set, but he will also allow for jukebox time, when the audience can call out requests. There usually are way too many, but he does what he can.

Christy sang his brother's song "City of Chicago", which is a gorgeous song that we were invited to sing along to. Sad, but very beautiful. And he sang the song for Victor Jara, which is very simple but very moving. Nancy Spain is another beautiful and gentle song. And then there is Lisdoonvarna, the song that will get everybody going. I won't put a setlist here, almost all the songs are special for one reason or another. And it amazes me that his man can fascinate this audience for a whole evening without any special effects, no elaborate staging. Just two men and a lot of guitars playing for almost two hours.

And the great thing now is that Luka will be back in Paradiso in October, a game of musical chairs.

Rena, my companion for the evening, wrote down a setlist, and her husband added the pictures at:   Rena's Christy Page

Out In the Dunes

It was a good day out in the dunes today. I went to a different part of the park than the one I usually go to, a little further to the south. It partly overlaps with my usual walk, but it includes some other areas as well. And I got all the way to the beach for a change. It was a beautiful day, it was lovely and sunny, but not too warm because there was a really strong wind. The closer you got to the sea, the more it started blowing. Enough to blow all the cobwebs away. From my head anyway. I did manage to get sunburnt again, I always do on these days when you don't realise just how strong the sun is.

I started out early, so it was still lovely and quiet when I reached the park. I did come across a group of walkers, complete with Nordic walking sticks, and they made a lot of noise, but they soon disappeared out of view. From then on it was mainly bird song, though the usual background noise of the nearby racetrack never did disappear completely.

I do know this park very well, so walking along means I come across a lot of places where I have birding memories. On the northeastern side of the bird lake I saw and heard my first nightingale, many years ago, and on a particularly rainy day I first saw crossbills, a lot of them up in the pine trees just on the other side of the lake. This is the place where I first got a real good look at a kingfisher in my own country, just on the opposite side of the lake, from the bird hide. There is a lovely little quiet corner on the edge of the lake, where you can sit down and be hidden from view, and if you sit there quietly for a while all the little songbirds will show up. Today I got to see a whitethroat, dunnock and willow warbler there. And a little further on a reed bunting and stonechat. And the nightingales were everywhere today.



Today the place belonged to the swifts, though. They arrived back here about a month ago, and they were all over the place today. There must have been a lot of insects, because they were all hunting above the open ground. It was such a beautiful sight. The lovely thing here is that, if you stand up on a hill, they will come whizzing past very close by, on their way down, so you get a really good look at them. And I got a real good look at a cuckoo, another real summer bird. You an usually hear them all through the day, but you hardly ever get to see them properly.



All the summer birds are back, really, it's the middle of the breeding season and you can see and hear that. You can hear the sound of birds all around you, all the different songs, coming from so many directions. You can see the birds flying around with food in their beaks, on the way to the nest, and then sometimes you can hear the young calling from their nests in the trees.

It was also a good day for butterflies, warm enough to get them active. I was very happy to spot these two, a Grizzled Skipper and an Orange-Tip, but that one had really been through the wars.





And I got to see some Common Blues, which I always love, so small but perfect in every way. Walking along one of the sand tracks I also disturbed a Sand Lizard, which was enjoying the sunshine. A rare animal, protected, but you will quite regularly come across one in the dunes. It's a beautiful little animal.

Travelling back on the tram and the train was interesting too. My theory is that the use of mobile phones on public transportation is sponsored by the transportation companies to provide entertainment for the passengers. On the train a woman was in the middle of a big argument with someone, and we could hear every word. If I had been on the other side of the line I would have hung up long before the conversation was actually ended. The woman kept saying to the other person "you should just say what you think and be straight with me", and then went on to tell the other person to listen and shut up. On the tram a woman was discussing her psychological problems with one of her colleagues and talked about a lot of personal things. It does intrigue me, why do people discuss all their personal issues on such a busy train and tram. I once heard a woman end her relationship on such a busy tram. I guess I'm just very old-fashioned. Or boring.

Transportation I

I almost always use either my bicycle or public transport to move about. While out travelling over the years that has provided me with some memorable experiences. I travelled all the way up to the northernmost part of Norway on a very luxurious cruise ship. Not my usual habitat, and I did stand out a little. No cabin, but sleeping on the floor of one of the conference halls, not big meals in the dining room, but sandwiches and salad I brought with me at a table in the lobby. I vividly remember the slightly pitying looks I got from some of the real residents as they moved from one meal to the next. The ship got me to where I wanted to go though, and sailing through the fiords was beautiful.



Then there was cycling all over Shetland, bringing a bike over from Amsterdam on a couple of ferries and a couple of trains. An interesting and challenging experience. On Unst, Shetland's northernmost island I came across one of the best bus stops I've ever seen. It even had its own website at the time. It's under construction at the moment, the website, not the shelter, I think. It was decorated like a proper little house, and I felt very comfortable there. It was intriguing to get this beautifully decorated bus shelter in the middle of nowhere, close to the northernmost point of Shetland.





And then, talking about bus stops, the other great bus stop I know is on Tristan da Cunha. The island has 273 inhabitants, and one long road of just a few kilometres long. There is a bus stop on the edge of the only settlement on the island, Edinburgh of the Seven Seas. There is a bus service taking people down to the Potato patches there. Unfortunately I was there on Sunday, when the bus doesn't run, so it was a long wait, and I didn't have my bicycle this time....

Fashion Palaces

There is an exhibition in the Historical Museum about the old Amsterdam fashion houses. They have dresses and other kinds of clothes and accessories from the early part of the twentieth century up to the sixties. It is very much an exhibition about the era when there still was a great difference between women and ladies, and this was an exhibition about the ladies. There were various fashion houses in Amsterdam in the early twentieth century, some are still around, some have disappeared. The ones still there still have a pretty good reputation, I haven't actually visited all of them. I guess I'm not really a lady.

The exhibition was very stylish too, nicely lit, a lot of items on display, but all very tastefully done. I liked a display of hats, it made me want to start wearing a hat again. I had a lovely pink hat when I was about three I remember. Or rather I know because I've seen the pictures. But anyway, some nice hats here too.



Looking at this year's fashion, some of the dresses on display could be in the shops right now. There was a dress from 1955 which would look very nice for this year. I like it.



And some pretty black ones that are not unlike some of my own dresses. And I liked this piece as well, Very modern in some ways and dated in others.



They also had a great wall of posters and prints, with a lot of different images, advertisements from the different eras. Different styles of clothing, different styles of design, but again, mostly very tasteful.




One of the best things about the exhibition is near the end. An old-fashioned fitting room, with wooden models of dresses and suits, and mirrors all around. A great place to play with a camera...

Greta Garbo

I've for a long time been fascinated by Greta Garbo. She was born just over 100 years ago in Stockholm, and she lies buried there now. She spent most of her life in the United States though, first living on the West Coast, then in New York. Her life seems to be a long series of contradictions. At some point she was probably the most
famous face in the world, while at the same time she was always trying to protect her privacy. She is known for some relationships with other famous people, but she spent all her life living alone. For a while she was the most photographed person in the world, and then she spent the greater part of her life running from the cameras. The more I read about her, the less I seem to know.

I saw five of her films at some point, and was fascinated by this woman. She looked beautiful but unapproachable. The films are very dramatic, beautifully designed and shot. My favourite was and is Ninotchka, because it is fun, and because it is the most timeless of the films. Some of the others are very much of their time.

A few years ago I visited Stockholm and I went to visit Garbo's grave at Skogskyrkogården. It's a beautiful cemetery, very green and spacious. I wandered round there on my own for a while, and ended up at Garbo's grave. It's a simple site, but spacious and green, like the whole cemetery. You can sit down there and enjoy the quiet, be really alone. I wasn't completely alone though, out here I saw my first ever pied flycatcher. It sat on a branch near the gravestone, and was absolutely stunning. It is such a beautiful little bird.

I started collecting some postcards and photographs round that time too. I saw a picture of her, an old postcard, which I bought and then found some more. She looks different in all her films, and some images are absolutely perfect. The picture I like best isn't a postcard, as far as I know, it's a still. Beautiful though.



And some of the postcards are stunning too. She looks different in all:

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....