Technology - more of it

I thought I would just test out the uploading of photographs onto Blogspot, just to make sure that I cannot upload photographs, and lo and behold the photograph popped up onto this blog within seconds.    No notice to say, 'Whoops, no web space left, you have finished your 1 GB of free allowance and you need to purchase more space'.    Which I cannot do of course, due to my Wallet Account being closed, and Google insisting that I get the bank to 'reverse the chargeback'.   See previous blog.

I have, of course, sent the Google Wallet Team three emails, and no response, but someone must have pressed the magic key, because here I am, in full swing again.   For how long I do not know, but in the meantime I am a very happy person.    So to celebrate I have posted a photograph of our house with the new retaining wall at the side of the property.    

The full details of the wall can be seen on my new website.    Please click on the following link, and it will take you directly there.     www.retiredkiwibird.com/diary   

Yes, I have another website now, developed as I thought I would never be able to upload photographs onto Blogspot ever again.    I pay for the new website, which is not much, and it is a very good, and easy to use, with UK telephone back up for advice and support.    If anyone is interested the address is www.1and1.co.uk

I have really enjoyed putting together the new website, as it is different in layout, and suitable for short blogs, with a picture.  This website requires a different approach to writing, which I know I will have to work at.  All in all it the initial experience has extended my IT skills.   And the process keeps the brain active, which is so important, once one becomes a person with 'freedom'.     It is so easy to use that 'freedom', doing nothing much, which I am quite good at, or playing computer games all day, or reading the paper for hours.

If you are interested in looking at my new website, in its entirety, the link is www.retiredkiwibird.com         

In the meantime, I am really happy to be able to fully use Blogspot again.

Welwyn Garden City

We were meant to be camping on Cheltenham Racecourse.    We were looking forward to this, and I even checked to see if there were races planned for the time that we would be there.   Racecourses are fun places to camp in, as long as you are not in a tent.  We once stayed in the motorhome on another racecourse, and they moved all the campers out into the centre of the course on race day, and gave us free admission to the races.    Luckily no one had to dismantle tents.   It was really exciting.   And we went back to the warmth of the van, in between races.   Such luxury!

Unfortunately we did not notice that Cheltenham Racecourse Camping Ground closes for the season at the end of November, which we found out when Walter rang to book into it.   So it was off to Welwyn Garden City, in Hertfordshire.    Garden city?   Walking?  Yes it seemed to fit our criteria.   So off we went, with high hopes.

Our hopes were dashed, at least at first.    We arrived late in the afternoon, on a very bitterly cold day, with leaden skies.   The van was built to cope with minus temperatures so the warmth inside was not a problem.  But the camping ground was next to a run down and neglected NHS hospital, which looked like as if it was due to be axed in the very near future.    The outlook was not good.   

We thought the best option, would be to go for a long walk, and look for a lovely pub, for dinner.   So we passed the run down hospital, turned left at the first corner, and headed down a rough looking street, which appeared to be part of a large neglected social housing estate.  So much for a picturesque walk.    We should have known.   But we carried on, relentlessly.   

There were empty cans of super strength beer lying around on the grass verges, and two very drunk young lads were busily throwing more empty cans into bushes.   Luckily they giggled at us, when we passed, which was preferably to having abuse shouted at us.  We arrived at a pub, with sinking stomachs, next to dilapidated and mostly empty shops.   The front porch of the pub smelled like it was used as an urinal.   Thank goodness the pub did not serve food.     

We were then directed to the next shopping area, which took another half an hour to reach.    This area looked slightly better, but the pub was full of happy drunks and no food.    The happy drunks assured us that if we kept on walking we would reach a pub where there was food.   But we had given up by this time, so bought a paper from the newsagent, who told us how to take a short cut through a park, in order to get back to the hospital.     It was a lovely park, but darkness was setting in, it was bitterly cold, and we were frozen, so we were beyond enjoying the scenery.   At least we were out of the very rough area.    And lo and behold, we came across a lovely little pub, without any drunks.   Relief.    And we had a reasonable meal, in the warmth, and went back to our van, via the run down hospital, feeling happy and contented.    

The next dawned, and it was still extremely cold and overcast.   So we decided to head for the shopping centre, in the hope that maybe we will see some of the 'garden city' there.    And we were not disappointed.     

The town centre was pretty impressive, with shops running alongside a park, and then when you turned at the end of the shopping street, there was another wide garden/park with Neo Georgian  houses on the other side.   In fact the whole city centre was built in the Neo Georgian style.   There was a very modern shopping centre (Howard Centre ) at one end of the shopping area.     Most shops were upmarket, with John Lewis being the busiest.    The people shopping in the town centre looked well dressed, and prosperous.  Obviously they do not live in the area beside the camping ground.  

And later I researched the history of Welwyn Garden City, as the area was starting to intrigue me, by this stage. Welwyn Garden City, was founded by Sir Ebenezer Howard in the 1920s, following his previous experiment in Letchworth Garden City.    Howard had called for the creation of planned towns that were to combine the benefits of the city and the countryside and to avoid the disadvantages of both.   The two garden cities where meant to exemplify the physical, social and cultural planning ideals of the periods in which they were built. Welwyn Garden City was designated a town in 1948.   Apparently, due to its historical importance, Welwyn Garden City attracts visitors from around the world.  I just hope they do not visit the hospital.

Although the town was built on relatively flat land, I noticed there was no provision for bicycle paths.   Obviously encouraging cycling, through designated cycle paths, was not part of later town planning.    This is such a shame, as the town is relatively flat, and spacious, and perfect for cycling.   It certainly would have enhanced the 'Garden City' concept.   

Welwyn, by the way is pronounced without the ‘w’ (Wel-in), which we did not do, and caused the locals much mirth.  Welwyn is yet another one of those mysterious English pronunciation of place names, such as Wrotham (Root-ham) and Meopham (Maip-ham) that we, from down under, get wrong.   It is important to swallow a few sounds with quite a number of place names in Britain.     

So, after two days spent in the city (town?) centre, drinking lovely coffee, and looking in the smart shops, and walking around the beautiful gardens, we left Welwyn Garden City feeling that we had made a very good choice for our two days away in the motorhome.   

No Ball Games

No Ball Games.   Why?   The 'No Ball Games' mentality in the UK is something that I cannot get my head around.   Yet I often see these signs displayed, and sometimes they are placed on very large grassed areas, which I find are rarely used by people.      

I know that boys (and men) in this country are obsessed by football, and many people object to the noise of a group of lads kicking a football about, and there is the concern that some innocent person walking by may get hit by a ball.        Swearing was cited as a reason for not allowing ball games.   Also broken windows and general noise.  And yes, this does happen, but that still does not mean that ball games should be banned.   

Surely it is much better for young people to be involved in playing a game of football, or cricket, or any other ball game, than to be hanging around street corners, or sitting inside houses, or generally feeling very bored.    And would not the idea of allowing ball games on grassed areas,  improve the general fitness of many young people.   

Interestingly these signs are usually placed in Housing Association areas, which makes one think that people who live in state owned houses are not to be trusted.     Killjoy Housing Associations, as one person on a forum, described them.   And I agree.

However, when I researched the 'No Ball Games' on the web, I found one council who are forward thinking.    Barnet Council are removing all 'No Ball' signs from council estates.    Well done Barnet!   Maybe word will get around, and we will see the end of the 'No Ball Games' era.    

Technology - too much of it!

My brain is currently in overdrive.    Too much technology.   Too many decisions.

 There has been a long gap (over a week) since my last blog.   The reasons are due to 1) I cannot reactivate the credit card facility with Google, 2) I have made a decision about a new blog company, 3) I have a new mobile telephone.

So to bring some order into my life I will describe each reason.  Perhaps this will clear the mind somewhat.

1.   One might think it is simple to reactivate my credit card facilities with Google, but that is not the case.   Google will not reactivate the account unless I follow their instructions.   I must 'reverse the chargebacks' which I take to mean that I will have to pay the amount that was credited to my account from the app company.    See previous blog.   But I could be wrong.    My ability with language does not extend to the term 'chargebacks'.   The adviser at the bank is insistent that Google needs to sort out the problem.    So I cannot buy web space for uploading photographs.

I will continue to write blogs on Blogspot, but without photographs, which brings me onto the second reason.

2.    I have researched blog sites.   I need support.    I am not a web designer, unfortunately, nor do I have the skills to completely go alone.    I must say that there is plenty of information on the web, regarding blogging, but blog sites cost money, and sometimes it is a lot of money.   A big and a lucrative business. But   I have found one, and have a months free trial, and then will pay 5 pounds a month.    Whereas Blogger is free, and buying web space is only about 5 pounds a year.    So will see how I go with it, regarding uploading photographs, and then attaching a link to this blog.   However, Google Blogger is far superior to any other Blog site that I looked at, for a personal blog, that is.

3.   I was due for an update on my phone.  Instead of a BlackBerry, which has become a bit 'old hat' when compared to the super smart phones that are now available, I now have a Samsung Galaxy 3 mini.   I remember when I first became the owner of a BlackBerry, way back in 2006, when the first IPhone was released, the BlackBerry was considered to be superior and more reliable then.   But not so now.

So I am now up there with the crowd, if there is such a thing, with the latest mobile phone.    But of course I found, that within three days I had used half of my data allowance, and had to charge my telephone daily.    More complicated and smarter telephones equals using more data and battery life.   One cannot win.

And to sum it all up.    I think writing my thoughts in this blog has cleared the brain, a little.    I really do like Google Blogspot, and although I am a little disappointed in not being able to purchase more web space for photographs, I would like to continue using it.    I am also very excited about starting another blog, which is in a totally new format and decidedly more personal.    And finally, I just love my new mobile phone.

Technology

No more photos until I solve my web storage problem.   Apparently I have used up my 1 GB of free Picassa Web Storage.   So photos cannot be uploaded onto my blog until I purchase more space.  

Interestingly I did not know anything about this, until last night, when I tried to upload some photographs.   And then I found out about how much free web space a person is allowed for Picassa, emails and something else called Google Drive.  

I know about emails, of course, and the Picassa Web Storage keeps all my blog photographs together, and also downloads them onto my tablet, but the Google Drive is something new, to me, anyway.   And I am not sure that I entirely understand how it works, but I have downloaded it anyway, so our Microsoft files will be floating around somewhere.    I can never resist trying something new.

So all I have to do now is purchase some more web space for my blog photographs.    Easy, not expensive, and only one click of the button.    But I cannot do this.   I cancelled my Google card account about a year ago, due to unsuspecting grandchildren clicking the purchase button on my tablet, and hey presto, I had acquired extensions to an application, and a receipt for the cost.   It was a very devious scheme.    The application, that is, not the grandchildren.

So now I have to prove who I am, in order to start up another card account.    And it will take about five days.   However, it is comforting to know that security is now tight, but I also hope that there will be measures in place so that children cannot be tricked into ordering extensions to applications.  

And while I am writing about technology, I also reformatted my computer, due to the C Drive being full, and giving problems.     And so I saved everything possible, used all the relevant discs, reloaded everything back onto the computer, and lo and behold, my C Drive was still full.   But as I had removed so much rubbish from the computer, I easily solved the problem.   I had saved photographs and other material in both Drives, and when I deleted it all from the C Drive it is now back to where it should be, only on the D Drive    I congratulated myself on performing this feat.    And I learnt much about KBs, MBs, and GBs.    I can even remember the order they go in now.  

I love technology, but only if it works the way I want it to, which is does not of course.

mus musculus

Yes we have a mus musculus, a house mouse, or probably house mice, to be more accurate.  

Last weekend, at about 2 a.m., I was woken up with a voice calling from the doorway, 'Oma, Oma, wake up'.    It was Scott.   In alarm, I jumped up, and out of bed.   Not good for the heart, at my age!  And I found that Scott had a mouse in our milk frothing jug, the one we use for our lattes, and wanted to know what to do with it.   I could not look, and even let slip a marvellous photo opportunity.  So what do you do at that time of morning, bop the poor mouse on the head, or throw it into the garden, knowing that if it survives the cats and foxes, it will find its way back into the house.  Of course I instructed Scott to throw it into the garden.  Just get rid of the thing!

Apparently Scott had gone into the kitchen to make a sandwich and a drink,  a normal activity for an 18 year old, as we all know teenagers do not sleep at night, only in the mornings, and found a mouse running along the bench tops. Scott very bravely managed to wedge it behind the breadboard, and then scooped it into the milk jug.    Very friendly and tame, he reported to me.  

But now my suspicions, the discovery of 'black seeds' on top of the stove and a strange smell under the dishwasher, of the previous week, had materialised into a real mouse.  

Our last experience of mice, which turned out to be a major one, occurred in 2001.    It had been a cold winter, and what started off as one mouse, ended up as a huge colony (or so it seemed).    We had put all our food into plastic containers, and scrubbed everything down, every day, and the mice still came, and ended up eating the labels on the plastic containers.  They were obviously ravenous.   In desperation Walter bought mouse traps, which he was happy to attend to, and that was fine by me.  Thank goodness, I did not have to attend to such bloodthirsty activities.   But the night he chose to start, was also the night when we had guests, namely Aaron, Kylie, David, Catherine and Suzanne.    And all night the mousetraps pinged and snapped, as the mice were caught and zapped.   And we all knew what was lying in the traps.   But  they worked, and the mice disappeared, via the traps, into the rubbish bin outside.  And our guests survived, and lived to tell the tale of the night of the pinging mouse traps.    

Now I looked up mice on the internet, which is so useful for finding out information, and filling in time, when one should be doing something that is more productive.  But it appears that a mouse has a remarkable adaptability to almost any environment, and is the most successful mammalian genera living on earth today.  No wonder there are so many mice around.   But  the part that I did not like to read, was the information, that as a mouse is a rodent, it spreads disease via droppings and parasites.   I prefer to live in ignorance.    Thank goodness I scrubbed the benches and bread board, and put the jug in the dishwasher, the morning after Scott caught the mouse.

So what to do!   Well we can not use the humane mouse traps that Catherine very kindly sent to us after our 2001 fiasco.   They are sitting, full of peanut butter, under the kitchen cupboards in Donna's old house.   And so far, we have conveniently forgotten to buy normal mousetraps, when out shopping.    Avoidance strategy.

I check the benches every morning, and especially the toaster, as I do not particularly want a toasted mouse to pop up there, but there are no sign of droppings anywhere.    But I know I am deceiving myself, as either the evicted mouse will be back or there will be others.    I can be sure of that.

So next week, we will definitely take action and buy some mouse traps.    Or encourage Scott to make more sandwiches and drinks late at night, so he can catch them and put them in the garden.  

I do love the scientific name - mus musculus.   A good one for a speech rhyme.   Perhaps Walter could write a 'mus musculus' rhyme as he waits for the mouse traps to ping.    Keep his mind off the pinging mousetraps!

Eagle Heights, and other attractions in Eynesford

During October half term, I decided to take Lucy, Jackson and Isabel to Eagle Heights, Eynesford.    I thought it would be an interesting place to visit, and it was, in a ramshackle sort of way.    But I would recommend doing so on a lovely sunny summers day.   Eagle Heights is well named as it is situated on the top of the hill, above Eynesford.   And on an Autumn day, the day we visited, it was windy, and cold up there. 

We drove up a very long, and narrow, road to park in a field, hoping that we would not get bogged in the mud.   The sign pointed to a large assortment of dilapidated buildings.    After parting with £24, a bit pricey I thought,  we entered the buildings, and made our way around the exhibits, consisting of an assortment of disinterested and bored looking birds. 

But then I suppose birds always look bored and disinterested, even when they are free.   They are after all, birds.   Mind you if you have recently watched the film 'The Birds' then this is not the place to visit.   My memories of the film returned, when I entered the buildings.  I still remember the birds sitting on power lines, and in trees, just waiting for the signal to attack people.    And the birds in the buildings I had just entered,  looked as if they were also sitting there, waiting to attack us.   But luckily they were attached to their tree stumps, by chains.  All the same, I kept my eye on them, just in case.  

Now this bird was definitely in a sulky mood.   Perhaps it was counting the bricks on the wall.  

We spent time watching a display of birds of prey.    Very well trained birds.

The demonstration included lots of food for the birds.    No not the man below!    That was only in the film.  But I was not keen on all the flapping of wings above my head.

Lunch time for us.    We huddled together to keep warm.    No decent coffee in the antiquated tea rooms either.

But we did have a lovely view over the valley.

But what is this?    A cheetah!    I thought this was a bird sanctuary.   But no, there are some animals here too.   The fences did not look very strong either.    I hope they do not escape.   They looked very mean.

And a camel, posing for us.   Now what is he trying to tell us!

And 25 huskies!   They have been adopted by Eagle Heights.    They started off as pets, but once they grew up, their owners could not look after them.    Eagle Heights run sledge rides, for people who would like to go for a ride on wheeled sledges.    No they do not provide snow as well.

So then it was off down the road, to the warmth of Lullingstone Roman Villa.    Or at least the ruins of the villa, which is covered by a huge tin shed.    The villa was discovered during the late 1930's and excavated after WWII.   It was very impressive.   Unfortunately it was too dark inside to take photographs of the ruins, but luckily I managed to photograph two Romans.    

We drove further along the lane, until we came to Lullingstone Castle.     Once the owners of this huge house, with a castle like entrance, owned all the land around, but due to WWI and mismanagement of family funds, the present owners have been left with the entrance, and the lower part of the house.   They rent the rest of the house out to other people.   However, the castle and house are open during summer months, and there is also a large World Garden, created by the current owner's son.    A very imposing front entrance!

And to my grandchildren's horror, I stopped in the narrow lane, in order to take a photograph of this elegant Victorian structure.    The drivers of the cars behind me waited patiently.  No hooting of horns in this part of the country.  

And today, I drove back to Eynesford, in glorious sunshine, in order to take photographs of the beautiful bridge, ford, river and village.

Such a peaceful scene, and with only a few walkers around.  

 In my more daring and silly days, I can remember riding a horse from Lullingstone Park to Eynesford, in the middle of winter, often in freezing fog, and with ice on the road.  And always through the ford, never over the bridge.    We were always so happy to arrive at this carpark, behind the pub, where we tied the horses up, and went inside to warm up.   The ride back was always easier, for some reason.  Can you get caught for being drunk in charge of a horse?   

Eynesford and the surrounding areas, are such beautiful places to visit, and I am now inspired enough to get my walking boots out, and go for a long walk through the countryside.   But I think I will give Eagle Heights a miss, although I have been told that the eagles have been seen soaring overhead.   Just waiting to swoop down and collect their food.    Not people, I hope.

National Health Service

The National Health Service, at Darent Valley Hospital, our local super sized and  new hospital.

This blog is not a criticism of the staff, as I have the highest regard for the highly dedicated and caring staff that work at Darent Valley Hospital.  After sitting in a ward for three days, I was impressed with the quality of care and support the patients received from all staff, both medical and non medical.  And they allowed family members to be with Scott, outside the normal visiting hours, because he was only just 18 and on an adult ward.       

But there is no doubt about it, the mysteries of organisation and procedures within hospitals are quite beyond most people, who happen to find themselves patients, or family of patients, in a NHS hospital.    And once in the system it is very difficult to understand the reasoning behind many decisions.   

And it would appear that the systems involved, seemed to be aimed at keeping people in longer, rather than aimed at identifying a problem quickly, getting it sorted, so that the patient can return home as soon as possible.   This would certainly cost the hospital a lot less money, and enable the patient to recover quickly, so therefore take less time off work.

Scott entered the system two weeks ago, and thought he was never going to see the outside world again.    A one off you might say.   But I suspect his experience is fairly common, otherwise the procedures he encountered would have been different. 

He went into hospital with an inflamed appendix.    Simple you might say.    Remove the offending appendix.    Key hole surgery.    No problems.   

But no, Scott endured six days in hospital, often as a ' nil by mouth' patient, on a drip, catheter inserted, on strong antibiotics and painkillers, and getting sicker by the day.   'They', (his team, or probably a senior consultant) wanted to make sure that it was appendicitis, rather than some other problem.   But, wait, everyone, except a senior surgeon, who saw Scott during the first four days said that it was probably appendicitis.   So after an x ray, two scans and numerous other tests, all expensive, it was decided that it was, in fact, appendicitis.   And then he had to wait 24 hours before they could fit him into the operating schedule.   

Now you may be impressed, and say that the hospital was being thorough, and yes a hospital does need to be thorough, and illnesses should be investigated, but the length of time it takes, does have to be questioned.   And should so much investigation happen, when it is fairly obvious that the problem could be quickly sorted with some key hole surgery.

But I do believe, that Scott's experiences has its roots embedded in Government policy of cost cutting and bureaucratic hoops.    How can a doctor or team of doctors make a quick and accurate diagnosis, provide relevant treatment, which includes an operation, when there are not enough medical staff, and an overload of patients due to all the smaller hospitals around them being closed down.   And then to top this off, they also have to focus on government requirements, which involve much paper work.   

But, I just cannot believe that the current Government policy is cost effective or time effective but I do know from our recent experience it certainly causes a lot of patient anxiety and frustration.      

Scott, sitting in his wheelchair, with his gown on, all ready for the operating theatre.  'Nil by mouth' for   12  hours and still waiting.    The humorous part is the Waitrose Wine bag that Scott is holding in his hand.  Now I wonder what is in the bag?    And you can be guaranteed it is not wine either!    

The good news is, that Scott has been home for 10 days and is fully recovered.   The removed appendicitis was enormously swollen.    We saw the photograph.

Bicycles, bicycles and more bicycles

You may think I am obsessed with bicycles, and you may be correct, but I think it is more a fascination than an obsession.     In the Netherlands bicycles come in all shapes, sizes, colours and arrangements.  And when I have a camera in my hand, I am very happy, clicking away at the variety of bicycles around me.   

The beautiful blue Oma fiets, with white basket at the front.    So cool.

Some damage here, a bent back wheel and a missing front wheel.   Vandalism?  Drunks? The motorised road sweeper?  

The green line up.   Bicycles for hire.   The line up is far too perfect for anyone to hire one and destroy the symmetry.

The tandem.    The front part is for children with physical difficulties.   There is a special band to secure the child safely to the bike behind.   The Dutch think of everything.

The fallen.  

The hand crafted wooden bike.   I have the owner's business card, just in case I would like to purchase one of these bicycles.   I did not like to ask the price.  He assured me it was comfortable to ride.

The hand crafted super bicycle.   It has a sling for a sea,, and the bike is ergonomically suited for comfortable riding.   Price also unknown.

The old and reliable.

The conservative and safe.

 Riding on water?  No, these bikes have been salvaged from canals, painted and erected on stands in the water.    A remarkable display.

High and dry.   This bicycle appeared to be made of concrete.

The line up of two wheel and three wheeled Bakfiets.   Very useful.

A seat at the front and one at the back.   Mummy or Daddy's taxi.

The 'greenies' bicycle..    Someone went mad with green and blue spray paints.  Even the plastic ferns match.

Hey, what is this amongst the bicycles.    The scooters are a pest on the bicycle paths, but trying to fit one into a bicycle rack is just too much.

The small and petit.   The fold up bike, so beloved of commuters on trains.

Now where did I leave my bike?    The railway parking station.   No available spaces on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, apparently.

And I have heard that some cities in the Netherlands are going to heat the bicycle paths so that they do not freeze over in winter.   Such care and consideration!   I love it!

's-Hertogenbosch

We are always on the look out for new places to visit in the Netherlands.    And 's-Hertogenbosch, or Den Bosch for short, came highly recommended, as a city with plenty of character and atmosphere.   

's-Hertogenbosch (Duke's wood) is the capital of Brabant, which is a south eastern province of the Netherlands.   It was settled in 1150, in an area with high sand bars in a swampy and wooded delta between the rivers Dommel and Aa.  Part of the city wall is still visible, although the city has grown somewhat.  

One of the significant features of 's-Hertogenbosh are the waterways, which form part of the river, Binnendieze.   These waterways (canals) flow in, around and under the houses.  In past times the waterways were used to transfer goods from the harbour in Vughterstroom.   But the water was also used in the leather, metal and brewing industries, as well as for drinking water, cooking water and sewage.  The mind boggles!   

After 1874, when the water was not needed for other purposes, the waterways were still used as an open sewer.   In fact it was not until 1964 that an enclosed sewerage system was installed, so up up until then, it must have been a very smelly city!   Since the 1970's there has been an extensive restoration programme of a small proportion of the waterways (3.5 kms).    Originally there were 12 kms of waterways with 20 crossings and more than 100 bridges.   I presume these waterways are still there, somewhere, under the streets and buildings.  Residents must need to be careful, when digging holes in their gardens.   

We set off, reasonably early in the morning, in order to catch the train, which took a very pleasant half an hour to reach 's-Hertogenbosch.    The railway station is very ornate. 

We walked through many narrow streets, with beautiful buildings and small gardens.    's-Hertogenbosch appears to be a very affluent city, from the appearance of the houses and well dressed people.

The very well maintained paved streets.  

Mia and Abi peering through the windows of an outdoor cafe.  The greenery covering the wall is artificial!   But very effective.

All ready for a trip on the Binnendieze, that is, a trip through the old sewers! A very narrow boat, for extremely narrow waterways.   No hands outside the boat, and we had to duck on many occasions due to the low 'ceilings' of the canals..  

The cruise was described as experiencing the Binnendieze as an oasis of stillness in the middle of a bustling city.   And this was so true, due to the thickness of the walls, and arches, and the buildings above. It was  silent, except for Raphy telling us in a very loud voice, that it was scary.  And I agree with him.   The waterways were full of cobwebs, bat houses, old sewage outlets and long stretches of complete darkness.

We sailed under an original Gothic Convent Church built in 1533, and under the Town Hall where there are steps, which wedding parties use when they arrive for a wedding ceremony in the Town Hall.   An interesting way to arrive at the Registry Office, in all your wedding finery.   Not in a limousine, or by horse and carriage, but in a canal boat through the old sewers. There is also an enormous glass tile, which you can look up into, and see the inside of the Town Hall.  

Altogether a fascinating canal trip.

The main Cathedral, Sint-Janskathdral (a Basilica really), is very impressive with its high dome and stained glass windows.   It is still a Catholic Church, which is not unusual in Brabant, being a very Catholic area of the Netherlands.   I think it started as a Gothic church, as it is very ornate on the outside, but the inside is definitely Norman, with all its huge windows.  It was too difficult to get a decent photograph of the church, as it was too large.

But I did photograph the church below.    And when I went to have a look inside, I found it was, in fact, an art gallery!    Too pricey to visit, sadly.   Lovely art deco building.

Mia posing in front of the water fountain, very arty.   The fountain that is, but then Mia, fits in very well with her blond hair, and red and pink clothes.

Talking about art.   This spectacle shop certainly wins tops marks for its sculptures.

A very narrow house!

There many, many restaurants and cafes in 's-Hertogenbosch, with the heaters already on outside, all for the customers comfort.    We called into a cafe,  for some coffee and cake.    Not very gezillig (cosy, pleasant, sociable) when you have three children and a buggy.    But we managed, as we were all very tired.

Now what is this?   An ornate walkway over the canal?  A narrow market?  None of these.    It was once the public toilets, the contents of which, dropped straight into the waterway below.  A loo with a view!  No longer toilets, of course, and much restored.   A very interesting piece of information gained from the canal ride.

A return visit to this very charming city is a must.  And on the last note, if you are a female living in this city, than the required piece of clothing is a very tight, and expensive, jacket.   A generalisation, of course, but I saw more tight fitting jackets, seemingly about one size too small for the wearer, than I have seen anywhere else in the Netherlands.

Archeon, Alphen aan de Rijn

This is definitely a child friendly museum.  So was crowded with children, all enjoying themselves and learning much about the early history of the Netherlands.   Most of the museum is outside, with workshops and displays, and very activity based.    Perfect for children, and adults too.

Of course the historical objects are not original but rather reconstructed from archaeological finds (Prehistory and Roman history), or modelled on buildings still in existence (Middle Ages).   But the range of history is extensive - from 9,000 BC to 1500 AD.

First we went to the huts that were based on life for people from 9,000 BC to when the Romans occupied the Netherlands.   And these huts were suitably dark with many cobwebs on the ceiling.   Luckily Raphy did not see the cobwebs because he does not like spiders.   The man, he was real, was taking apart a piece of deer meat, in readiness to cook it over the fire.    My Dutch was not good enough to understand his full explanation.

Some of the huts are similar to the prototype Neolithic huts which will be part of the revamped display at Stonehenge, which is interesting.   So people travelled around, but then the sea between the UK and the Netherlands was once a valley.

Unfortunately I caught this poor man's backside as he went through the doorway.   You certainly have to bend over to get into the houses.   This house is a reconstruction of houses from 8800 to 5300 BC (Mesolithicum)

The children enjoyed rowing the canoes, although trying to row together in the same direction was quite a task.   But they did not fall out, thank goodness.   We held our breath!

I am not sure where I am in past history, with the following houses, but they are definitely reconstructions of very old houses (somewhere between 5300 to 12 BC).   The houses are certainly becoming larger, and more comfortable, with benches and sheepskins everywhere.  

Where am I?   Get me out of here.   This very long house, with quarters for animals, was very dark.

Cooking damper over the fire.  

At last we are getting somewhere.  This part has houses that are recognisable.    Beginning of the late middle ages (about 1000 AD).  We did not visit the houses of the early middle ages (406 to 1000 AD) due to being overloaded with information, and the need to get home.    Still very dark inside the building.

And into the late middle ages, from 1000 to 1500 AD.   And copies of buildings that are still standing in the Netherlands.   There are windows, chimneys and recognisable furniture inside.   We spent a lot of time around these buildings as there were so many activities for the children, making bread and woollen bracelets as well as watching the blacksmith and shoemaker.   It was fascinating watching activities that once were part of the daily lives of the people of that era.

The vegetable garden plots surrounding by herbs.

The outside loo!    Nothing new here!

Stoking the fire up in readiness for bread making.    A great pizza oven!

Sword demonstration.

Learning to dance.    The monastery is in the background.    There was a wedding (real and modern) on the day we visited the museum.

We stepped into the Roman era, 12 BC to 406 AD and into a highly sophisticated and cultured life, with all its creature comforts, for the well off anyway.   The contrast in building methods, from local reed houses to Roman brick and plaster, was especially remarkable.  The building below houses the Roman baths.

Such luxury, and plenty of light too.

One of the smaller baths, cleanliness was important.    The baths are used during the summer months.   For real.  

The Gladiators, a pretend fight thank goodness.    The Romans were very cultured in some ways, but barbaric in others, especially in their enjoyment of activities in the arena.     Feeding people to the lions, and fights that ended in one person being killed, was not exactly being cultured.  Apparently the Romans nearly depleted Africa of all its lions in their quest to keep up the supply of lions in the arena!   Or so I have been told. 

The girls dressed up as Roman soldiers!

A Roman house.

A marital moment!   The wife wanted to join her husband  in the dry and cosy room, but he chased her out and headbutted her.   Nasty man.

All together it was a great day, at a fascinating museum.   Open all year, but warm clothes and coats a requirement for the visit.