A family Christmas in Houten, Netherlands

Christmas is long past, and I must get this blog written, otherwise we will be onto the next event in our lives.

We had a lovely family Christmas in Houten, with Aaron, Kylie, Mia, Abi and Raphy.    Emma, Steve, Jackson and Isabel also came with us, and we were a merry little group, despite the ravages of flu which hit some members of the family.   Isabel was recovering from the flu, Jackson came down with it on the first day there, and Kylie started to show the first signs of flu at the end of the visit.   

Walter was still recovering from his knee replacement operation, having only had it eighteen days beforehand.    Although we were worried about how he would manage the long drive, it went very well, and he made quite rapid progress during the five days we were there.

We set off early on the Saturday morning, and arrived at the channel tunnel entrance in Folkestone in plenty of time.    This was just as well as the queues through the French and British border control areas were long and moved slowly.    

Finally we managed to drive the car onto the train.    For those people from Australia and New Zealand who have not travelled on this train, I need to explain how it works.    The trains, double height, are very long, with each carriage holding about four or five cars.   Safety barrier doors are closed between each carriage, in case of fire.   There are special carriages for coaches.   So basically you drove the car onto the train, and are directed either upstairs or downstairs, then when you are close to the car in front, you turn off the engine, put the handbrake on, and open the car windows.   When the train is loaded, the train leaves, travels through the tunnel under the sea, and at the end you drove off.    The trip takes about 35 minutes.

There are special trains for trucks.   These trains are open sided.    It is a very busy tunnel, as the Eurostar trains also travel through it, and I believe the company is aiming to have a train pass through every two minutes.   On each line.

The problem with the train we were on, was that it had problems with its communication system, and after a lengthy time we were all told to drive off and board another train.    So the 35 minute journey ended up in a delay of another hour.   We noticed that the trains, which have been running for more than twenty years, desperately need updating.   The trains we were on had faulty inner doors and toilets which did not work, and of course there was the one with a non working communication system.

Walter stretching his legs while waiting for the first train to leave, which it did not of course.

It was a very easy drive to the Netherlands, on a motorway that was noticeably quiet without trucks, motorhomes and caravans.

Walter and I stayed at the Valk Hotel, which was about a ten minute drive from Aaron and Kylie's house.   A very tall thin hotel which stands out amongst the low lying buildings and farmland.   It was extremely busy each day of the holiday period, with enormous family and friend gatherings.   Walter was told they were catering for 1200 people for each sitting, the afternoon one and then the evening one.    When we arrived back at about 10.30 on Christmas Day the hotel was heaving with people.   Party time!

Breakfast was always interesting, with plenty of sweet pastries, rolls and cakes plus the usual boiled eggs, cold meats and cheese laid out in a clean and orderly manner. They also cooked omelettes and fried eggs.   The dining room was beautifully lit, with mood lighting and candles and small decorations scattered around.    The Dutch really know how to make things very cosy and atmospheric.   Gezellig!

We were fascinated by the chocolate fountain, together with the accompanying strawberries and small biscuits.     And a soft serve ice cream machine, not shown in the photograph below.   It was amazing how many people were eating soft serve ice creams and chocolate covered desserts, at 8 a.m. in the morning.

 This cream and strawberry filled sponge cake looked absolutely delicious, but not for breakfast.   I think the sweet cakes and desserts were specially provided because it was Christmas.

It was fantastic getting together with Aaron and Kylie and the children and we had much fun together, eating plenty of chocolates and biscuits, talking and playing cards.

Plus singing carols on Christmas Eve.  A very musical time.

Christmas Day did not start early, thank goodness for older children, and Raphy, being the youngest child, was very patient.   There were lots of presents to open, with plenty for everyone, and we spent a very happy few hours admiring each other's presents.

We kept the curtains closed, as it was a very dark and dim morning which added to the Christmas Day magic.

Kylie cooked a delicious turkey dinner, with all the trimmings.    She had made a stuffing, which she gave to the butcher who then put it into the turkey breast, together with a bit of butcher made seasoning because he thought it needed a bit more!   It was extremely tasty and the vegetables were cooked to perfection.   It was all so delicious we were too full for the Christmas pudding, so ate it that evening.   I had made it a couple of months ago.  It was doused with plenty of burning brandy!

A great family day.

On Boxing Day we drove to Toverland, a theme park with many indoor rides and activities.   It was  mostly to celebrate Raphy's birthday which was on the 30th December, and partly to celebrate Abi's birthday, which was on the 5th December.

The park was very busy, but apparently Christmas Day was even busier.  Christmas is celebrated a little differently in the Netherlands.  I cannot imagine places being open here.

I think the climbing frames and connecting bridge were very creative. and challenging too.

There were plenty of places selling chips.   However I am also fascinated by the heated self service hatches which sell croquetten and the other Dutch favourite frikandellen.   I think Steve bought a croquette.   I forgot to ask him if it was okay, but he did not complain of indigestion afterwards.

A huge wooden roller coaster, and the ride just goes on forever, or so it seemed to me when I rode on it once.   Raphy was very proud of the fact that he was now tall enough to ride it.

I did go on the water ride, and managed to get very wet and cold.

I also went on the toboggan ride, which was not too fast, just perfect,

but the only problem was getting out of the toboggan at the end.   I can no longer get up from a sitting position, especially one that is still moving.   I had to be hauled out by Emma, Steve and Aaron.   And not very elegantly either.

It was a long drive there and back, about 1 1/2 hours each way, but the children loved it so much, that it was worth the long drive.

We stopped at a McDonald's restaurant on the way home.   A perfect way to finish a fun filled day. 

While we were away Walter spent a leisurely day at the hotel, observing the hundreds of guests enjoying themselves.   He also ate very well in the restaurant.

The next afternoon we said our reluctant goodbyes to Aaron, Kylie and Raphy and set off towards Calais.   Mia and Abi came with us, as they were going to Norwich for New Year.

It was a reasonable drive back until we came to Bruges where we hit atrocious weather, with vertical heavy rain and a high wind.   In the end I drove behind a truck, as it stood out clearly in the dark, wind and rain.

There were horrendously long queues at the Channel Tunnel entrance, due to the very slow checking of passports at the British Border Control.   So delays again.   Altogether a thirty five minute train trip certainly ends up taking a very long time.   However, on this occasion we were relieved not to be sitting in a ferry on very rough seas. 

And back home we continued our holiday celebrations, with New Years Eve at Emma and Steve's house. and a 70th birthday party at our neighbour's house.    The girls spent a week in Norwich and had a fantastic time with their friends.   They also managed travelling by themselves very well, with a train journey to Norwich and then a plane journey from Gatwick to Schiphol.  We were very proud of them.

They went shopping with Isabel in Bromley, and met up with Steve and Jackson for afternoon tea.   A very special time.

The only mishap, was when I caught my hand in the lift door at the Valk Hotel.   The lift door closed very promptly when people exited the lift, and there was no time to press the 'door open' button when the next person entered the lift.  I did not realise this.   My hand lost quite a bit of skin and was very sore.  The hotel staff gave me some plasters.   I knew I was in the Netherlands. 'Toughen up and get on with it'. 

More about houses

And on the subject of houses, a little information about the history of our current house in Joydens Wood.   As with our house in Henley Beach, Adelaide, South Australia, our current house needed extensive renovations when we purchased it in 1992.

Sadly for the previous owners, we bought the house from the bank, which had repossessed it, during the economic difficulties of the early 1990s.    The owner was so angry about the repossession, he wrote various swear words on the wall paper in the hallway, badly damaged the suspended ceilings in two of the bedrooms, and removed all the doors, the floor coverings and electrical fittings.    There were no light switches or power points anywhere in the house.   He also took out the new fireplace.    The kitchen was a mess. 

When I viewed the house, the bottom maisonette, it was boarded up, and secured with padlocks.   There was building rubble everywhere outside and the house smelled damp.  But the price was great, only £40,000, the location excellent and close to the entrance to the woods.   I knew that it was a solid house and would be easy to do up.    One gains much confidence after renovating a large house by the seaside.    I rang Walter, who was still in Australia, and he was keen to purchase it too, thank goodness.   Mortgages were very easy to obtain in 1992 as there were hundreds of houses for sale.

 And that was the beginning of a very long and exhausting process.    It generally takes months to buy or sell a house in Britain, due to a bureaucracy that is very slow.   But with our house it turned out to be very daunting.    We found out through our solicitor that the deeds to the house and grounds were not legal, and it was for this reason the bank could not sell the house.   I am not sure how the previous owners managed to get a mortgage, but from the mail that arrived on our doorstep, the man was indeed a very dodgy character.    To cut a very long story short, the bank agreed to pay the legal fees in order straighten out the deeds of the house.    Very fortunate.    When Walter arrived here he spent a considerable amount of time on the telephone, and driving between the bank and two sets of solicitors in order to move the process through faster.  

The photograph below was on the day we finally acquired the maisonette, with its overgrown and rubble strewn front garden.  

When we moved in, we found out that the elderly woman in the maisonette above us, had become a recluse after her husband died a few years previously.    In the three years she lived above us, we never spoke to her, and only caught glimpses of her face when she peered out of the window, usually behind a curtain.   All the information about the house came from her daughter, neighbours and the daughters of one of the tenants of our house.

The house was built in 1929 to accommodate the parents downstairs, and their daughter, husband and family upstairs.   The daughter still lived upstairs when we bought the bottom maisonette. The family also owned land around the house, which they sold off, with various encumbrances, much of which appeared to be handshake deals.     The front of the house faced onto woodland and some farm land, with a public footpath as a right of way.  There was no road.    The back of the property faced a lane, and the garage was sited on this lane.    

There were some interesting deals made when selling off the land around the house.   When the two houses on Summerhouse Drive were bombed during WW2, an agreement was made in that they would be built facing the public footpath, so that a road could be built, and the remainder of the land sold off.    The people in the new houses behind us were told that once the man upstairs died the houses that back onto the lane would no longer have access to it.   Our neighbours have talked about contesting this, but nothing has been done.   It all costs money.   I think that the lane originally led to a car yard and a small WW2 factory which assembled aeroplane parts.   The Woodland Trust have recently spent a considerable amount of money getting rid of all the cement sheets, which contained white asbestos.      Consequently our house and garden was a legal nightmare, in 1992.

  

A view of the house, taken on a grey day, not long after we bought it.   The so called unadopted gravel and potholed road, plus the asphalted public footpath is in front of the house.  No street lights on the road either.   

Thank goodness we had some help.    Tony organised for a digger to come in, and dug two enormous holes in the front lawn, which we filled with all the building rubble.    He then rebuilt the front fence and lay new paving slabs on the front steps and path beside the house.

Aaron standing beside the rubble, whilst thinking about the enormity of the job ahead of him.

A recent photo of the house, showing the new side retaining wall.   The old one was very strong, but leaned against a concrete panelled fence that previous neighbours had installed many years ago.

We have painted the walls of our maisonette in a bid to cover up the awful pebble dash, which was very popular in this country at one point.   Telephone poles are a feature on our road.  We replaced the old single glazed windows in about 2000. 

The front garden as it is now.   Who would know that underneath this lawn there are two enormous holes filled with rubble.

We inherited a presence, which disappeared when the woman upstairs moved out.    It was a comforting 'presence', a female I think, who kept an eye on me.    I never told Emma, who was an over imaginative teenager, about this ghostly presence as I thought it would spook her.    But this 'presence' once found my house keys, which had been missing for a few days, and looped them over my bag.  Of course there could be a logical explanation in that it was Aaron that had found them and left them there.   I prefer my story.

I often wondered who this 'presence' might have belonged to, and made up many stories.   But the one I like is that it belonged to a friendly tenant, who lived in our maisonette for about forty years.  The woman upstairs, was a real tartar, I believe, and no doubt my 'presence' thought I needed protection.

But back to our house, which was dark, gloomy and damp when we bought it.   The rooms had been recently wall papered, but ruined by the angry previous owner.   The house was completely bare inside.   At least we could see that there were no hidden problems.

During our twenty six years here, the inside has had many changes of wallpaper, paint and floor coverings.   The suspended ceilings in the bedrooms have been removed, and new soundproofing materials installed under plasterboard ceilings.

A photo of me, all ready for work, and wondering about the missing fireplace.   We bought a new fireplace from a local boot fair to put in its place.

The same photograph, with built in cupboards and a new fireplace and surrounds, alas not the one we bought from the boot fair.

There were no kitchen cupboards, just a few bits of board hanging from the wall.   I think the previous owner was in the process of putting in a new kitchen.    It had been a 1970s kitchen before that, we think

We bought cheap kitchen cupboards from the hardware store, which Walter and Tony installed, and twenty six years later they are still there, plus a few new additions    A couple of years ago we painted the laminated cupboard doors white, and put in new handles.   Instant transformation.

Our land at the back was only a few metres wide, and ended at the wall of the huge back garden.   We built a conservatory and paved the rest of it. 

And the small paved area above is now a small intimate area for outside dining, when the weather is warm.   It is quite a sheltered spot.

I know I criticised the original owners on their handshake deals, but I also saw a chance to gain some ground when our neighbours bought the maisonette upstairs, with a view to allocating some of the back garden to their garden.   They wanted to build an extension onto their house.

We reminded our neighbour that we had our names on the joint title to the back garden, although it officially belonged to the maisonette upstairs, and that he would have to get our permission to join some of the land onto his land.   This appeared to be a perfect opportunity to gain a back garden so we came to an agreement that suited us all.  We paid a solicitor to alter the house/land deeds so that we had the front half of the back garden, the maisonette upstairs had the back part, and our neighbour acquired the back garage and a slice of the side garden.    Perfect.   The neighbour even let me measure it out.

The man in the new house at the back also wanted the garage and a slice of the land, but we all said 'no'.  Apparently at one stage he tried to purchase the whole garden with a view to building a house there.   So there may be valid reasons why he is so unreasonable about access to the lane way.

Our neighbour, called Colin,  renovated the upstairs maisonette, which he rented out, and then sold to the present owner for a reasonable price in 1997.    Colin and his wife moved to somewhere close to his work, and the extension to their house was never completed.   I think Colin was a very considerate person. who we thought at first was a bit of a wheeler-dealer type.

There used to be a shed built into the wall, which had been filled in with soil, so we dug most of it out and built steps there.

At first the steps were really wonky but we paid an expert to redo the steps.    They are now steep but very sturdy.

A view of the back garden, which has also had many changes over the years.   The silver birch is self sown.

A view towards the garden at the back, which also shows how the neighbour's fence juts out into the original back garden. 

Our maisonette was not in the same league, renovation wise, as our Henley Beach property, but I think that we made a very comfortable home, out of a bit of a mess.    And it is a surprisingly large maisonette too, three large bedrooms, a hallway, lounge, bathroom and kitchen plus conservatory.   All with high ceilings.    Plus gardens at the front and back and access to the woods, a few metres along the road. 

We have loved living here, these past twenty six years.

Destruction of an old house - once our home

Destruction of a beautiful old house, or so we think.  The sceptical part of me says that the pulling apart of the old house has been done on purpose so that redevelopment plans can go ahead.   However it could be that during the renovations the new owners ran out of money, or found more problems with the house then they predicted, or experienced a major personal calamity and could not continue.   But there is no doubt that the house is currently looking very dilapidated, with no evidence of recent work being carried out, and parts of it appear to have been vandalised.   

231 Esplanade, Henley Beach, Adelaide, South Australia.   Our home from March 1979 to December 1987.    A house where our children grew up, where family and friends spent holidays, and where we spent much time socialising, and watching the world walk past our tinted front windows.  We could see out and people could not see in.  It was a quick dash over the very hot bitumen car park, onto the equally hot sand, and into the refreshingly cool water.     The beach views were outstanding, and the sunsets unbelievably beautiful.    We spent a very happy nearly nine years there.

There was, however, a down side.   The house was in a very poor condition when we bought it, and we spent nine years renovating it, with the last few months frantically finishing it off so that we could sell it.  After eight and a half years we were getting tired, and our money had run out.   The house was auctioned,  and we managed to get enough money from it to buy the next house outright.   The next owners, who made some changes inside, enlarged the back courtyard, and built a high fence at the front and a new garage at the back, lived there for nearly thirty years.    Interestingly they painted the woodwork a Greek blue, whereas we had painted it a dark Dutch green.   Different cultural backgrounds.

About two years ago the house was sold for nearly $2,000,000, to an older couple who lived in a maisonette next to the house.   There were photos in the newspaper of them, standing in front of their new house.  Sceptical friends of ours felt that the couple had probably organised a syndicate to finance a redevelopment of the very large site, which spanned between the Esplanade and Seaview Road.  But we felt positive.

The solid bluestone house had been built in the 1890s, and was owned for a short time by a member of the Playford family.   It contained five large rooms, plus servants quarters at the back, and a prefab kitchen behind it.   Kitchens were often at the back of the house or in separate buildings, due to fire risks.  All the main rooms had beautiful marble fireplaces, extremely high ceilings and ornate plaster work.  It would appear that the house was wired for electrical lighting when it first became available in Adelaide.   

A doctor owned the house for many years, and he built a huge surgery facing Seaview Road, and a garage.   He also replaced the original bullnosed verandah at the front, with a massive thick concrete construction with a terrace on top.   It was from here that he raised a flag and fired a starter cannon, in order to start sailing races at the Henley Sailing Club.

An amazing house.   However, by the time we bought it, its glorious past had long gone.    The elderly couple who owned it, had converted it into three flats, and  had rented out the surgery to a local doctor.     White ants (termites) had moved in and eaten away woodwork, the marble fireplaces had been painted over, some of the plaster work in the rooms had fallen down, and the original wiring was dodgy to say the least, with cloth covered wiring in the ceiling encased in tinder dry wood.   The insulation roof cavity was dried seaweed.   

The massive front verandah, with its thick supporting columns, and a roof which incorporated iron railway lines, was very strong but it leaked badly and continually crumbled.   Getting rid of this verandah was our first job.   We hired a contractor to do the job, and it took them days as they had to cut through iron bars and grills, and dismantle columns which were not fixed to the floor.    We felt sorry for the contractors, who under quoted for a job they will never forget in a hurry. 

 As money was tight we built a simple lightweight construction with a straight roof and reused the plate glass windows which were tinted.    Much of our time was spent in this very large enclosed verandah, drinking coffee and wine, looking at the changing colours of the water and the sky, plus watching people walk past on the footpath.

 The new owners have knocked down our enclosed verandah, which after nearly forty years was starting to look very tired.   However nothing has happened in the seven months since, except part of the fence has also been knocked down, and it would appear that the front door is missing, and has been boarded up, and the window/door on the left has been knocked out, and left open.  When I enlarge the photograph I could see inside the room.   It was quite possible the blue stone started to crumble when they took the window out.   In fact I vaguely remember filling in a deep crack above that window.  Did vandals break the front door?   One of the side leadlight panels is missing.

 My nephew, Neville, who took the recent photos during his trip to Adelaide, said that it appeared no work has taken place for some time.   He was quite taken aback by the mess, as he last saw the house when we lived in it.   He also helped us with the dismantling of the old front verandah.

The view below, through the walls of the garage, shows that the old corrugated iron covered room at the back has been removed, and also the shower room beside it.   Not a great loss for sure.    But when I enlarged the photograph, I could see through the passageway to the front door.  So no back door.

And now back to October, 1997.   A view of the central passage way, looking towards the back door.   On  the lower part of the wall, there was embossed pressed paper, in perfect condition.

The magnificent front door.  I stripped the paint off it, and then put a type of varnish on it.  The front door is now missing as is the right hand side window.

The very ornate plaster ceiling in the front hallway.

One end of our enclosed front verandah.   There was a small bedroom at the end of it.

When we sold the house we had established a front lounge, a back lounge, kitchen, dining room, bathroom, laundry and main bedroom.    A kitchen that had been tacked on behind the bathroom became a bedroom, and there were three rooms plus shower room at the back of the house. 

There was much trial and error when we completed the renovations.   And we gained a lot of skills.  A Greek friend, an electrician, helped Walter rewire the house.   Walter did all the hard work, such as crawling about above the ceiling.   The mains electrical connection to the house was so corroded and dangerous the electricity company took the connection away as a show piece.   We had floors sanded and polished, and lay new carpet in some of the rooms.  A painter came in and spray painted the walls and ceilings, plus any furniture that was uncovered.   I filled in the window frames and door frames that had been eaten away by white ants.   We repaired the damaged plaster ceilings.   We had the doors dipped in acid and varnished.   Over three years I painted the eaves.

The marble fireplace in the front lounge.

The back bay window,  a very sunny spot during the mornings.   I filled the window sills with concrete and smoothed them over so they looked as if they were wooden still.   It would have been an interesting exercise for anyone trying to replace the windows.   The ceiling above the windows crashed down one day, due to white ant damage, followed by water damage.   For those readers who do not live in Australia, white ants, or termites, eat the wood but leave the paint, and it takes some time to realise that there is no wood under the paint. 

A view of the outside of the bay window. 

A view of the back of the house, between the Doctor's Surgery and garage.   The walls of the garage have been left standing due to the garage being on the edge of the footpath.   Only the roof and back wall have been taken down to allow heavy equipment into the backyard.    If the side walls or surgery are taken down then the boundary wall would have to be built further in towards the house.

A view of the back of the property, with the Doctor's Surgery, which we converted into a flat, on the left, and the old garage, on the right.    Our yellow VW Combivan is parked on the side of the road.   The photograph was taken in October, 1987.

The view from our front verandah, in 1987.   Perfection.    It was a very busy carpark during the summer weekends.

Although it is a little sad to see our former home in a very dilapidated state, it is still only a building.   And whatever happens to the property, eventually people will live there who will enjoy being on the Esplanade.   We enjoyed owning, renovating and living in the house, and all our hard was also enjoyed for nearly thirty years, by the people who bought the house from us.

And there was no doubt that the money we earned on the house meant we were then mortgage free, and enabled us to eventually own two houses.    An excellent investment.