Random Walks in the Low Countries

I don’t like Mondays

September 28, 2009 by Dave Hampton

‘with apologies to Tori Amos, it’s been a bit of a bum start to a busy week. Our building’s landlady is a lovely person who just celebrated her 87^th birthday. She’s full of energy and manages the entire building well, but is starting to worry about whether the years will catch up with her at some point soon. A reasonable concern, and she wants to make space for a caregiver if she needs one, unfortunately meaning that I’ll need to find a new place to live within the next six months.

It’s a pity: I only finished transferring the lease from the expat agreement in August, and I’ve grown fond of the river and the views of the city beyond. The passing boats have been a nice backdrop to daily activities, and the neighborhood has been great. It’s unlikely that there’s an equivalent place available along the river near the city, so it’s going to mean a more wide-ranging search to define something balancing desires for ambience with constraints of geography and budget.

I learned that the market in tightening up in town as well: the A2 bottleneck through town is going to be relieved by a new tunnel, starting construction next year. Apartment buildings, holding over a hundred units total, will be demolished along the road during the project, so those tenants have all been asked to vacate by January. That will throw a lot of people onto a limited market in the coming months: I hope it doesn’t turn into a race for the bottom.

It’s a lesson in not being too quick to call a rented flat “home”. Expatriate life is inherently nomadic, but I’m still not used to the yearly ritual of picking up my 13 boxes and finding a new nest for the coming year. The only bright spot is that each move has been a trade-up, and there’s every reason to hope that the trajectory can continue.

Biking to Eijsden

September 27, 2009 by Dave Hampton

Today was a wonderfully sunny day, unusual after the cold nights and foggy mornings that we’ve been having the past week. Although there was work to be done (housework if nothing else), the rivers and fields were far more tempting, so I saddled up the Locomotief ( a vintage east-german bicycle according to my Dutch friends, with more years on its frame than it cost me in euros) and headed south.

The road out of town leads to Eijsden (right, courtesy Google Maps), one of the oldest and most southern villages in the Netherlands. Originally funded as a roman settlement, then becoming one of the dominant areas for fruit-trees, and finally a center for producing zinc and gravel, the village has now become a bedroom community for Maastricht. There are rows of neat, modern brick houses, a small village square, café’s along the river, and a chateau / castle at the perimeter. The bike path winds through orchards and fields of cows, finally ending up at the river crossing past the town center.

The Netherlands are thick with irrigation canals and diverted creeks; many fields and country homes are bordered by small, straight, neatly tended waterways, with small bridges and earthworks connecting homes to streets, paddock to field, and town to island. Larger rivers, such as the Waal near Tiel or the Meuse near Eijsden, are served by small private ferry boats. These are quick and efficient, chugging back and forth across the river every few minutes, carrying pedestrians and cyclists for a one-euro fare each way.

The Eijsden ferry is unique because it leaves the Netherlands on the east bank and lands in Belgium to the west (the while line snaking through the map, above). Both countries fly flags at their docks; I’m not sure how it functioned before the Schengen treaty opened the borders (everyone had to flash their passport and have their saddlebags inspected during the crossing?) In any case it makes for a nice break in the ride: everyone lines up at the shore and exchanges route suggestions and restaurant reviews while waiting for the boat. There’s a rush to get good rail position once the ferry docks, and the children poke at the passing ducks and swans as the boat chugs over.

Both banks of the river have cafes that offer bier, vlaai, and shade to watch the flow of traffic: the vast majority of people were headed from the Dutch to the Belgian side this Sunday. Cyclists were evenly divided between casual family bikers and serious teams in matching helmets and spandex. It’s going to be a while before I’m in shape for the super suit.

The route back north passes the Sluis, deep locks that lift working barges over a drop in the river. Many cyclists stop to watch the boats go up and down: I think that there’s a Dutch link and fascination with the water and the boats since the show draws in everyone, not just the children. The full circle beyond the locks leads back to the old city wall and gate of Maastricht, about three hours of very leisurely autumn riding, looking, and eating.

Beelden van mijn buurt

September 26, 2009 by Dave Hampton

Take a look out your window: take in your familiar sights and sounds. Houses, streets, trees, people: you instictively know where to fgo to ind your friends, and where you’d go for good food once you met up. It’s become a neighborhood.

Scholars say a neighborhood is more than just a local geographic region, rather, it’s a community where you know people on sight and everyday goods are convenient and accessible. It may include elements of culture, trust, heritage, or safety: a place that you fit into. To me, it’s just a place that is familliar without thinking about it, where I know where to find the things I need, the people I know, and the services I depend on.

So, this first weekend in autumn, I thought we’d just walk around the block together; taking in some beelden van mijn buurt (images of my neighborhood)…

My immediate block is an area of Dutch row houses along the Maas River. It lies between the De Hoge Brug (the High Bridge) and Sint Servaasbrug (St. Servius’ bridge), running two streets back along the shore. The Wyck (from wijk, quarter or district) is a conmfortable jumble of shops, restaurants, and residences with more river traffic than automoble. In the US, we’d somewhat dismissively call this a mixed-use area, unusual as compared to our homogenous and partiitioned suburban zoning.:

The shoreline where I live is closed to cars, so the only sounds drifting up to the balcony are the clatter of bicycles on the cobblestones (left) and the murmers of pedestrians enjoying an outing. The south end of the neighborhood is bounded by 1992 Plein, created by local architecht Jo Coenen during redevelopment of the old ceramic factory site (he also created Amsterdam’s Openbare Bibliotheek). In addition to holding the city’s library and theater complex (right), the square contains essentials like our Albert Hijn (grocery) and Blokkers (housewares) stores.

Just around the corner from the Plein is the favored ice cream store, Luna Russa. Filled with parents and children on warm aftternoons, its mountains of iridescent flavors are as much a lanndmmark as.the nearby architectural towers.

The street behind the riverfront, Rechtstraat, is filled with specialty restaurants and boutiques, laced with allleyways like Kattenstraat (yes, there are cats…). But I also enjoy the trees, already shading into their fall colors, and the distant view of St. Martinus Church (right, below) each time I come through this part of town. Where the old city can feel winding and close, the gentle curves and longer sightlines keep this area feeling more open and warm.

Left around the corner again is Wycker Brugstraat (right, above), our main thoroughfare linking Maastricht’s train station with the city across the St Servius bridge. Bicycles and pedestrians far outnumber cars, especially the mornings as students flow to school and again in the evening after the shops close at 5.

The best thing about the neighborhood is how it’s always full of ordinary people and everyday life, whether sharedas a couple, in a crowd, or at a festival.