Random Walks in the Low Countries - Reflections and observations on the expatriate experience from an American scientist living and working in the Netherlands.

Saturday errands and walks

February 26, 2017 by Dave Hampton

It’s a day for catching up, sorting through small jobs and picking up parts. I’d promised to fix a lock for the house, screws, oil, and fat screwdriver to get the cover off. Whereas, in the US, I’d be off to Home Depot or (back in the day) Ernst, here in the UK it’s a trip to B&Q (DIY Store, as the Brits say, rather than an American Hardware Store, but the same idea).

With a bit of help, I found the little machine screws at one end of the warehouse, a can of light oil at the other, and the tools somewhere in between. It’s been a long time since I did minor carpentry, and I’m sort of looking forward to working with my hands and getting a bit dirty again.

I’m also trying to sort out my phone: its been three years since my last purchase, and O2 has consistently downgraded me with each insurance claim until I have something that barely works now. With the business still largely virtual, I rely heavily on my connectivity: I need pure Android, good reception and battery life, decent Bluetooth, a serviceable camera, and pocketable size. The alternatives seem to be an HTC-10, Pixel C, Sony XZ, or OneTouch 3T (Sorry, I’m not going near a Samsung).

I’ve inquired about upgrade through O2 but they only carry one of the phones. Their full replacement insurance has also degraded over the years, from ‘Instant swap‘ to ‘Send it in and we’ll let you know in a week or so what we want to do’. I’m talking with Carphone Warehouse and others now, and like the phones and insurance better.

The two choices remaining are whether to wait a month for O2’s upgrade charge to disappear, and whether to wait for April to see what the spring HTC-11 and OneTouch 4 look like.

Otherwise, my w.wezen and I took the car to Farnborough for repairs and looked for a nice evening out for dinner. Farnborough turns out to be a culinary desert: a pedestrian mall lined with budget shops, a couple of low=end pubs, and a few fast-food chains. ‘Better to go to Reading and try something new.

The Bluegrass BBQ was a good choice, reminiscent of Blue’s Smokehouse, a personal favorite in Bracknell. Not the portion size or intense bar-b-q flavour that good Southern smokehouses would have, its nonetheless a credible local substitute. The burnt ends were better than the brisket, the burger better than the fries, the craft beers better than the US.

Although a bit of a rainy night, we decided a walk home would beat a bus or taxi. It settled the dinner appropriately, and afforded some good opportunities to photograph light and reflections.

Making marks at the seaside

February 24, 2017 by Dave Hampton

Flipping through the BBC directory the other evening, I came across a new art show: The Big Painting Challenge. A bit like Masterchef, it features a dozen amateur artists who go through weeks of themed challenges, creating works under supervision of two professionals. Works are judged, someone goes home, the rest hug and advance.

I picked up at Week 2: Landscapes. Two painting challenges were held in one of my favorite seaside towns, Hastings: one to paint the pier from shore, the other to paint the shore from the pier. It was lovely to see the red shingle beach, to have walked the pier, to recognise the restaurants and fishing boats (and the jellied eel).

The challenges had possibility. It was raining as they tried to figure out perspective and detail on the pier, making a ghastly mess of colours running down the canvases. It was sunny-foggy-sunny on the pier, as the Coast often is changeable, and artists were encouraged to reduce things to five simple lines and a point of view across the seascape.

For me, things start going wrong with the resident artists, Pascal seems thoroughly unhelpful, his five-line sketch tracing the details of the rooflines rather than the sweep of the sea and sky. Diana is a bit better, but sympathetic rather than instructive.

But my biggest issue is with their technical approach to the task. Tools and methods matter, but it leads to photographic compositions with color added to simulate creativity.

Instead, look at the seascapes actually presented in front of the painters during the program.

How does the landscape make you feel, and what elements provoke that perception? Where is the light and dark; what are the strongest lines running through the scene? How best to convey that unique and essential sense of Place?

The results, however, feel soul-less, given what was on offer.

The winning painting had energy and movement, I agreed with the judges on it.

But, overall, it makes me long for a Turner (as it did to one of the judges)

‘worth a watch, nonetheless, on BBC iPlayer all month.

‘Not the year for Carnival

February 22, 2017 by Dave Hampton

i had set time and travel aside to be in Maastricht for Carnival this year – the four-day pre-Lent celebration filled with food, drink, and costumes (did I mention drink?). The parade is Sunday, official kick-off in the Vrijthof square with the raising of ‘t Mooswief, and the ‘skade filled with color until the wee hours of Tuesday.

Unfortunately, work and milestones overwrote good intentions this year. We are literally days from regulatory submission on the project, everyone hard at work testing, writing, and collating.

The amount of detail in these Technical Files is really daunting, and every cross reference and report has to be checked, verified, and files into a particular slot.

The product descriptions, the Design History file, is a constant work-in-progress, requirements and specifications revised each time a test falls sort, the failure mitigations being revisited each time someone imagines a new risk.

We’ll get there, but it isn’t the time for travel. We’ve spent years getting to this point, and we need to cross the finish line successfully.

TEFAF comes in a few weeks, birthday and spring beyond: ‘time enough to celebrate when the work is complete and submitted. Still, I don’t like subverting scarce free time to ever-expanding work-time (I’ve been working through the past four weekends). It violates the spirit of balans en grenzen that I committed to years ago, and reminds me to see that everyone gets a reward and a break when our work is done.

Driving on the left, from the right

February 20, 2017 by Dave Hampton

I’ve finally sorted out the logistics and financing of getting the car fixed. Initial proposals from Ford Lease were that the car be repaired in Maastricht. While likely practical from the standpoint of the engine, I didn’t think that the hood latch would necessarily hold for the 6-hour drive to the Netherlands. Second suggestion?

“We would suggest flying the car back to the Netherlands. Ummm, can I have iron-clad assurance that I’m not paying for that?

The third proposal was to take it to a local accident repair centre to get new replacement parts fitted (£2700). Perfect. ‘Good, your appointment is Monday’

A ‘Relief Vehicle’ is nowhere in the paperwork, so I went online to find a temporary replacement. Surprisingly, a rental was only £115 for 10 days, all-in with VAT and insurance. I locked the price and hot-footed over to the depot: a red Fiesta was being checked out when I arrived.

Oddly, so was a bill for over £400 additional payment. Digging into the itemizations, I found over £300 in duplicate insurance, add-ons, and options.

And if I didn’t want all of that?

“Well, of course, then you’d owe nothing.”

These people are such, well, used-car dealers. I signed for nothing, took the keys, confirmed condition, and headed out.

The car is, of course, set up for UK driving arrangements rather than my customary Dutch / American driver-sits-left. And this is where it all gets tricky for me.

I am used to transposing to driving on the left side of the road, but not to driving from the right-hand side of the car. It really takes attention to keeping the right side of the car close to the starboard lane lines. And even so, I tend to drift left.

I also have this sense off enormous space to my left inside the car, that the vehicle is very much wider than it actually is. It makes the vehicle difficult to park and problematic when passing.

And, of course, I’m now getting into the car from the wrong side.

Not a bad thing, of course: It encourages me to go slow, hyper-vigilant of what around me and of where my wheels are. So far, all good: more working from home and less travel generally, but looking forward to being ‘back to normal’ by early March.

Post surgical snowfields

February 14, 2017 by Dave Hampton

We put in a good day’s work today, arriving at the hospital early with prototypes and engineers, then working with the physicians to verify that the whole system was operational. For the third time in three weeks, everything was flawless:, good data and good performance.

We were cleared to monitor a hernia repair, relatively quick and routine, so a good chance to see how the readings changed with administration and withdrawal. It was nice to see the unit operate unaffected by other people and equipment in the OR, just as designed but still subject to demonstration.

Afterwards we all went out for a debrief with the staff, then were given a free hour before dinner.

The sun hadn’t quite set on Nagyerdei Park across the street and we’d had a smattering of snow during the day. It was nice to crunch along the trails around the frozen lakes and, as it turned out, I did get lucky with my light.

Op weg; Hungary

February 12, 2017 by Dave Hampton

The agent sighed: I need to check yiur visa status. He made a quick call to his supervisor: American…European residency…traveling to Hungary. Complications in the era of Brexit and Trump. There are rumors of tit-for-tat fees and permissions springing up, but I’d thought that they were not yet applicable within the EU.

No problem, he smiled, putting the phone down. The rules are always changing, though.

Indeed.

It’s been snowing across the UK today, slowing travel even as I needed to rely on public transport to get to the airport. I’d made a stupid move as I merged onto the queue getting onto the M25 from the M11 last night, a truck stopped suddenly just as I looked in my rear mirror. The unfortunate result was a mashed hood where the builder’s bumper hit my leading edge. Nobody hurt, the car still drivable, but I won’t take a chance on the highways with it.

So, it’s a long route into London by train, around on the Tube, then up to West Hempstead for the change to the airport. I worked on emails and reports along the way, we’ve got our final dates for regulatory submission and everyone is pushing to make the deadlines.

This trip is a one-day run to Hungary to collect validation data in surgery. Work in any EU country serves the requirements of all of them, a beauty of the Medical Device Directive. The University is able to accelerate reviews that are required for patient safety, so we can get the data without compromising on quality.

The snow started to swirl in a cold wind down the tracks. Most folks huddled under the stairs; I tried fiddling with some street photography.

Luton Airport may be improving in the future, but today it is all shuttle bus links, muddy construction, and limited services in the terminal. The flight was delayed an hour and a half, pushing arrival in Debrecen towards two in the morning. I wondered how my peers were spending their Saturday nights, processed my photos, and read a trashy spy novel.

We bumped onto the ground in foggy Debrecen at 0230, snowy runways and darkened buildings. My spotless new passport, devoid of visa stamps, didn’t fit with having a residence permit, so a supervisor was called and copious notes taken. I blocked half the available customs booths for an embarrassingly long time as the line flowing around me, glaring.

The Boutique Hotel recommended by booking.com turned out to be warm and welcoming, though. They had waited up, held a nice room, and promised a late breakfast (fried eggs and bread with paprika).

The small individual kindnesses more than make up for the natural and institutional indifferences of a long day traveling.