KidzCity, Utrecht

I have been back home for nearly a week.  How time flies.  So I thought it time to write a blog about my trip out with Mia, Abi and Raphy.  To KitzCity.  A colourful, cheerful place with plenty of activities to keep children occupied for the day.  And very clean.  In fact spotlessly clean, unlike some of the soft play centres in the UK.

We left the house in heavy rain.  Not a good start to the day.  We parked our bikes in the parking area at the railway station, and I hit my head on one of the upper parking racks.  Then I could not get the ticket machines to accept the coins when I tried to buy tickets for the children.  After trying three machines, someone behind me pointed out that I needed to press 'Pay Cash' in order to get the machine to work.  Silly me. After that all went well. 

The journey to KidzCity, only two short train rides, was very easy.  KitzCity was in a very large building in a light industrial area.  We walked up about three flights of stairs, where we were nearly blinded by the dazzle of the lights.  So exciting.

The dodgems were a highlight.  Mia steering hers with expert precision.

Abi trying not to connect with the car in front.  Very skilful.

At first Raphy kept turning the wheel too hard so went round and round in circles. But after a while he managed to drive in a straight line.  He just loved it.

I nearly climbed up the stairs, so that I could slide down with Raphy.  But sense prevailed, as I am not so great at getting up from a sitting position these days.  But the temptation was there.   In the end Mia took Raphy down with her.  A lovely high and long slide.  It did look fun.

But I did go witn Raphy on the jungle train.  Very slow and sedate.  If a little cramped for someone with long legs.

There were plenty of other activities, including a huge climbing frame, merry-go-rounds and soft play areas.  But the slide and dodgem cars were definitely the most popular with my three grand children.

We ate our packed lunches at one of the numerous tables there, followed later with chips with lashings of mayonnaise.  Even the coffee was very good.

A really fun day.

A day of swimming

On Monday I took Mia and Abi swimming at Den Hommel Swimming Pool in Utrecht.  It is a leisure swimming centre with plenty of activities to keep children entertained;  extra large, warm water pool with currents, waterfalls and outside swimming area plus an icy cold plunge pool, a small pool with slide and even smaller pools with play equipment, two spa pools and a long water slide.  And like all swimming pools in the Netherlands there is a cafe, selling food and drinks.  A perfect venue for a day out in the school holidays.

We left early in the morning and Aaron accompanied us as his place of work was only a short distance away.   We travelled very quickly through very scenic bicycle paths, with Aaron riding beside Abi, and giving her some extra power by putting his hand on her back.  It works very well for Dutch parents and children.   But not for me.  I would end up on the ground in a tangle of bikes and arms and legs.

We arrived at the pool, just after it opened, to be told that it was family swimming time and I could not watch Mia and Abi swim unless I was in a swimming costume.  Although it did not state that on the website, it was implied that family swimming means the adults must be in a swimming costume.  A language blunder.

I noticed a shopping centre as we were cycling there, only a few minutes down the road.  I knew there would be no swimming suits on sale, as it was autumn, but being ever resourceful I headed to the cheapest shop and bought a black singlet, black stretch boxer type knickers and a bright pink large towel, total cost, €8.30, and headed back to the swimming pool.  After purchasing 3 tickets, from another assistant, we headed into the change rooms.

Well I looked the part, slightly 1930s, but it worked, although I did not enter the water just in case the outfit went wrong, so I joined the two mums in the cafe.  They had thought ahead, and were wearing brief shorts and sun tops.  I really enjoyed my cup of coffee. What a start to the day.

Mia and Abi spent most of the day in the pool, except for lunchtime, when we happily ate chips with lashings of mayonnaise.  I had a lovely day relaxing in the warm cafe, and reading my book.

We rode back to Houten at a leisurely pace, taking a different route this time, some of it through an industrial park.  Not so scenic.

The main road, as we left the swimming pool. The overpass which worked really well now, but certainly caused mayhem when it was being built.

Riding a bike is so easy in the Netherlands, with the beautiful wide bicycle paths and traffic lights.  This bicycle path ran beside a very busy road.

As we approached Houten the scenery became more rural

It took 40 minutes to ride the 7 kms to the swimming pool, and about 45 minutes to ride home.  This was easier than driving to the pool, as one has to navigate onto and off a motorway, and through heavy traffic.

A visit to the Dick Bruna museum

Dick Bruna!  Miffy!   At long last a visit to the Miffy museum.  The official name is the Dick Bruna house, which is part of the Utrecht Museum.  And a perfect opportunity for a visit presented itself when I decided to take Raphy out for the day.

First of all, after long train delays, the reason unknown, Raphy and I finally arrived at Utrecht Central.  Time for some chips smothered in mayonnaise.  A very unhealthy lunch.  Raphy loves chips and ate them ever so slowly.  I thought we may never get to the museum.

We walked along the main street, and spend some time listening to the organ music.

A street view, with The Dom towering above the buildings.  The Dom was not leaning last Saturday.

The weather was glorious, and the cafes were full of people drinking coffee, or maybe something stronger, and enjoying the sunshine.  All faces were towards the sun, of course, so as to catch all the rays.

A great way to paint window frames.

And finally we arrived at the Dick Bruna house.  Miffy's name in the Netherlands is Nijntje by the way.  I also learnt that Dick Bruna was born in Utrecht, and still lives here.  So no wonder there was a Miffy museum here.   Makes sense.

Dick Bruna's father and grandfather were directors of the family publishers A.W Bruna and Son.

Raphy listening intently to one of the stories.

The exhibition at the top was about sports.  Raphy enjoyed climbing the steps rather than posing as a 'winner'.

Where is Raphy?  He was fascinated by the very large toy Miffy.

Raphy in the little Miffy house.

We decided to take a short cut back to Utrecht Central. But first we walked along a busy street.

We saw a sign to remind people to park their bikes in the correct places and not clutter up footpaths, or leave bikes permanently in the parking area.   A common problem in the Netherlands.

There is The Dom again, standing straight and tall.  Someone must have straightened the tower since I last took photographs.

We walked back to the train station through a lovely park beside a canal.  No doggy poo there either.

And back onto the train, and home to Houten.  A very happy little boy and a happy Oma.

New clothes

My new clothes, not worn yet.   I am sure you would like to see them on, rather than lying on the table. But I felt too tired after a day riding the bike to and from the swimming pool.  Another blog in the making there.  

So this is the coat, dark grey, and 45% wool.  Lovely and warm for winter, when it eventually comes our way.  At the moment it is so mild, no need even for a light weight coat.  

 And the beautiful dark pink trousers, or pants as they call them in Australia.  A patterned cotton material with a small percentage of elastane, just to make them super comfortable.  I love elastane.

I am not sure how I am going to get all my new clothes back to the UK.  Cabin bag luggage is so small on Easy Jet, and the handbag has to fit into the cabin bag.  One small cabin bag, total.  Unless one pays more money to send a larger bag in the hold.  And I refuse to do that, against my principles.  So I guess I will be wearing a lot of clothes, and I have done this before.  A bit suffocating.  Luckily I am not prone to fainting.  Hopefully it will be cold on Wednesday.

A trip to the shops.

A long way to travel for a shopping trip.  But here I am in Houten, the Netherlands. And more than ready for a spot of shopping. 

So one morning last week I set off.  After a cup of coffee, of course.   I needed a boost of adrenaline, before I made an attack on the shops.   I had to make my own coffee as Walter was in the UK and Aaron was at work.  My coffee skills have improved dramatically, during the past week.  Amazing.

At Houten, the railway station was nearly deserted, as everyone was either at work or school.  Great.

After a short trip, the train pulled into Utrecht Central Station.  Which was still in a mess due to massive construction work.  Will it be ever finished?

And I walked into the modern shopping centre which led from the station to the streets of Utrecht.  Hoog Catharijne.

The aim was to start buying Christmas presents, but after seeing the mid season sale signs I knew that I would return with some clothes for me.

I never left the shopping centre of Hoog Catharijne.  Except for lunch in the caffetaria of Vroom and Dreesman, a department store, which had a wonderful view of the city centre, and The Dom.

Well I managed to buy a grey, part woollen, tailored coat, drastically reduced in price, and a pair of dark pink trousers and two pairs of grey trousers. The Netherlands is a trouser dreamland country for women, with great cuts and designs. And as many Dutch women are tall, I never have trouble finding clothes to fit.

Didi is my favourite shop here.

Then I travelled back to Houten, feeling very happy with my purchases.  Especially the dark pink tight trousers.  Very swish!

Travelling in style

We travel in style, in our new Skoda Superb, compared to our old car, our modest Citroen Picassa.   The small people carrier with the raised front seats so that we can easily get in and out of the car.   A car that we can take the rubbish to the tip in, load the grandchildren into, and get from Point A to Point B, without using much fuel.   Such a practical car.    Even our two cushions looked good on the back parcel shelf.

But now we have a large and powerful car, built for towing caravans.  And also for speed, when not towing a caravan, for power, and for comfort.   The leather seats, electrically heated of course, are pure luxury.   The 4x4 ensures we sit firmly on the road, plus it is great for getting us out of difficulties when it snows or out of the mud in camping grounds.

And the car is full of electronic gadgets; the electric seats, a sat nav, driver memory electric seat, self parallel parking (yes it parks itself), rain sensor, automatic headlights (can see around corners), electronic stability, bluetooth interface telephone equipment plus many more gadgets, not discovered yet.   It even has an umbrella tucked into one rear door,  The door is heated so that the umbrella dries out when returned to its pouch.

We are travelling in style, as long as I can remove the word 'Skoda' and all that it meant a few years ago, from my mind.

A Treat

Afternoon tea in Bromley.   A treat to look forward to, especially now that the weather is decidedly cooler.   So when I collect Isabel from school we head off to Bromley for our weekly treat.   Sometimes Jackson joins us, after he finishes secondary school.  But often it is just Isabel and me.

We have tried many cafes in the Glades shopping centre, some are good, some mediocre and some plain awful.   For me, it is the quality of the coffee, and for Isabel it is the quality of the milkshake or cake.   Isabel is usually allowed one or the other, but not both together.   Just too much sugar.

Now we have found a new cafe, out on the high street, where the coffee is very good, the cakes are made on the premises, and the milkshakes are perfect.   And there is a view over the street, so we can do plenty of people watching too.

But the choice is very difficult to make.   Isabel had been looking at the Victoria Sponge for some time, and on one occasion I agreed that she could have a piece of it.  The size of the slice was amazing and it came with a container of soft serve ice cream.   Total indulgence.

But too, too much.   Thick butter icing in the centre of the cake, and a very thick layer of sugar on the top.   Isabel felt very sick afterwards, and she said it took her a week to recover from eating it.   

So now we aim for moderation.   Isabel with her milkshake, and me with a cappuccino, no chocolate on top, plus a small piece of lemon drizzle cake, shared of course.  Love it.

A day out

Our friends Dawn and Richard came to stay with us last weekend, a visit we had been looking forward to, for some time.

On Saturday we decided to look at two National Trust properties, despite the overcast, cold and wet weather.    Although we had visited the two properties chosen before, there was always something new to discover about them.

The first one, Chartwell, not far from Westerham, was Sir Winston Churchill's family home.   The house was bought by Sir Winston and his wife, Lady Clementine, in 1922.   They then renovated and modernised the existing house, and landscaped the gardens.

The house looked very gloomy from the outside, but it was a warm and comfortable home inside.   It still contained the Churchills' possessions, including many of Sir Winston's paintings.  

A view across the rolling landscape, with the pond in the centre.   Such a beautiful and picturesque part of Kent.

The vegetable garden still had plenty of vegetables growing, even though it was autumn.   There was also a great array of gourds, drying in the previous sunshine.  Not on this day though.

A very pictureseque and effective way of drying gourds.

We visited the quant old house, beside the vegetable garden, which was once Sir Winston's art workshop, and which now holds many of his paintings.  He was a self taught and accomplished painter, who began painting at forty. Some paintings were not brilliant so he obviously kept all his work.  

The view of the house from the rose garden.  I searched the internet to find out about the history of the house at Chartwell, but it obviously did not rate as being very historical, until the Churchills' took it over, that is.    Just a country house, very large, and situated in an expensive and beautiful part of Kent.  

A collection of National Trust umbrellas.   Luckily there were plenty of umbrellas to borrow, as the rain became heavier as the morning progressed.

We ate lunch in the lovely warm restaurant at Chartwell.    Very welcoming.   Good food too.

After that we set off in the car for Ightham Mote, located near Sevenoaks.  

As it was still raining, we took the small electric bus down the hill to the gate.   Mind you it would have been quicker to walk down.  But still, quite an experience.

Ightham Mote was a medieval manor house built in 1320.   I took the photograph below of the house and moat through the trees as I was leaving, when the sun was shining brightly.

The first piece of information I found out, came from the National Trust speaker.   Within minutes of arriving I learnt that the moat was originally used for defence purposes.   I had just told Richard, the moat was never used for defence but that it was built to provide water for the house, and for keeping fish in.   Talk about providing incorrect information. I am sure that I was told this on a previous visit.

The house was built around a courtyard, which also held a Grade 1 listed very large dog kennel.   During the past five centuries owners made relatively few changes to the structure.   So now we have a complete medieval manor house.

The Selbys owned it for nearly 300 years, then the Colyer-Fergussons lived in it from 1889.   They carried out many of the repairs and renovations to the inside of the house.   The house was saved from being demolished or converted into flats in the early 1950s by an American, Charles Henry Robinson.    He gave it to the National Trust.

The chapel, where currently the Victoria Cross, awarded posthumously to one of the sons of the Colyer-Fergussons, was displayed.

A view across to the old stables, converted into accommodation (I think)

And when we finished our tour, the sun was shining.   What a lovely sight.

A lovely day out, which we all enjoyed very much.  National Trust houses are always interesting and full of information, and going with friends makes the experience even better.

A new venture or madness!

We have changed our minds.   Not unexpected, I know, but this was a sudden change of minds, and even people I saw or spoke to this week do not know about our new plan.   So this will come as quite a surprise.

We are no longer going to get another motorhome.   Nor buy a long wheel based van in order to get it converted into a motor home.   That was our last plan, and one that we talked about with everyone we met, at some length.

Last weekend we decided over a glass or two of wine, on my part, and non alcohol beer, on Walter's part, that we would not pursue the idea of another motor home, due to it costing a lot more than we can get for our currrent van, and the conversion would take months, as many parts have to be sourced from outside the UK.   Proof of how long it takes to get quotes and then parts, from Europe, has certainly taught us that European vans and parts are not a good idea.   

So on that note we set forth on Monday morning to visit a motorhome and caravan sales place, away out in the Surrey countryside somewhere.  A huge place, mostly full of caravans, and some motorhomes,  plus a shop and tea rooms.   And there we made our final decision.  

We would buy a caravan.

And a caravan needs a strong car to pull it.  

So today we bought a new car, a Skoda Superb 2.0 TDI CR 4x4 Elegance 170 BHP 5D Hatchback.   Now that is impressive.   It is large, heavy, and powerful and capable of pulling a caravan.   We are no longer two retirees with a Citroen people carrier, easy to get in and out of, and able to get us to the Netherlands and back on one tank of petrol.   Instead we have a large maroon car, with cream leather seats, and plenty of gadgets.   Amazing.   In three days.   

Our last Skoda in 1993 gave us no end of trouble, and after two years had catastrophic engine problems.  But Skoda has come a long way since then, from what I have read, and are now the third best diesel car.   Still the taste of the old Skoda still lingers a bit in the mouth, so fingers crossed that all goes well.

Walter standing by our new car, to be collected next Tuesday, and looking very pleased with himself, after spending a couple of hours wheeling and dealing.  I think Walter missed his calling in life, he should have been a car salesman.   And he was buying the car.

But back to the decision day, on Monday.   Two days before we bought a new car, capable of pulling a caravan.

A line up of motorhomes, mostly large and very expensive.

 A long wheel based van, new, and just what we were looking for,

 and plenty of room inside for two passengers, with bathroom and kitchen on either side of the narrow passageway which ends in a double bed or seating at the back of the van.   Perfect, except for the cost, well over £44,000.  Mind you, if we had bought a long wheel based van, used, and then had it converted it would have cost around £23,000 which would have been achievable, well nearly anyway.

 Then we went over to the caravan section, where there must have been easily 100 or more caravans, from very old to brand new, and priced accordingly.   We quickly saw that caravans do not keep their value.   Oh well.

So we carried around our plastic step, and visited some of the caravans, not too old, but also not too expensive.   We tried not to be critical about the split front windows, and the ovens and grills, plus carpets on the floors.  But then we do live in the UK afterall.  And repairs and servicing will be easy.  

Walter standing in front of the one that suited us the best, a 2006 model, fixed bed at the back, very comfortable except for the person who sleeps on the side with the cutaway end of the bed.   One leg will have to hang over the side.  Walter's side of the bed too.  Lucky man.  There is also a lounge at the front, and narrow bathroom beside the bed, and a fully equiped kitchen.   I liked the kitchen part, after being used to the skimpy cooking arrangements in the motorhome.   Roasts every day.  Not that we have bought the caravan yet, but soon. definitely soon.   We now have the car.

Of course we are not completely sorted yet, the motorhome is still being repaired, but hopefully it will be finished in a few weeks time.   We then have to sell the motorhome, so more wheeling and dealing for Walter.   Hope he gets a good price for it. 

And we will have to learn how to drive a car with a caravan behind it, which should be interesting, to say the least.   Especially, after my recent experience of driving into the back of a stationery truck.  And I have difficulty reversing a car, let alone a car with a caravan behind it.  But we are feeling very confident at this point in time.

But most importantly, we are having to come to grips with no longer being motorhome owners, and no longer free to travel the UK and Europe at a moments notice.   In one's dreams anyway. And sitting high up in a cab certainly does give one a sense of superiority, and of power.   But no more.

Instead we will be driving sedately along the roads, at a respectable speed, low down, in our new maroon Skoda with a caravan gliding smoothly behind us.  Properly packed and balanced of course.  And annoying all the other drivers, due to our slowness, and length.  Always difficult to pass.  We know.   We have sat behind cars towing caravans.  A curse on the roads.   And we are joining them.

We are now caravanners, not motorhomers.