I must apologise for not posting any photos these past few weeks. It is just that with such good weather I did not wish to give those abroad an unduly positive impression of what Irish summers are usually like. I would hate to disappoint visitors who might come expecting glorious sunny days and then arrive to rainy skies and gales. However, now that we have daily rain, flooding and tornado warnings, I can relax. Now I can quite comfortably complain about the amazing things I would like to do; hiking in the mountains, visiting beaches, etc, but can’t because of the miserable Irish summers.
I generally tend to believe that Irish weather is only really good when students are writing exams or have just gone back to school or university. That means that the last two weeks in May and September are generally glorious, and the weather remains mercurial for the entire “summer.” Not that I have any right to complain, when we had the two weeks of sun I kept predicting rain. Now that my garden is well watered I am hoping for a reappearance of the sun. My Irish begrudgery is nothing if not well watered. That is the end of my rant, I hope you enjoy the photos.
My experience of England was thoroughly pleasant, and I was lucky enough to stay with a friend who lives in Surbiton. I spent much of Saturday walking along the Thames and admiring the boats cruising up and down the river. Tom also took me to see the grounds of Hampton Palace, where Henry VIII lived. The weather was absolutely gorgeous, which made the experience all the more enjoyable. However it made the journey to Victoria Coach station with all my luggage rather difficult. I informed a woman on the Tube that the sun seemed to have made an appearance specially for this occasion. She then asked me if I could stay till October.
I made it back to Dublin at 0630 on Monday morning, and the weather was due to stay all week. Ireland is so unused to such good weather that the Met Office issued a heat warning, and so many people suffered from sunburn that a Twitter user posted “I see red people.” I felt obliged to take a trip out to Killiney to enjoy the view and a swim in the sea. The water was bracing to say the least, but one cannot waste such a heaven sent opportunnity.
There surely is no lovelier country in Ireland when the weather is good, and surely no more admirable people than the Irish for staying at work when the weather is good. Good weather is so rare that they would be forgiven for downing tools and heading off to enjoy the sun. During a chat to a woman in a supermarket, I was informed that her shift had been extended by a couple of hours into a lovely summers evening. Her disappointment was aggravated by the fact that she was working all weekend. Her resulting bad mood was rather restrained in the circumstances, and must have required a will of iron to stay.
It is really wonderful to be back in Ireland, despite all our economic woes and politcal shenanigans. I have really missed the gregarious outgoing nature of Irish people, which seemed all the more in evidence with the appearance of the sun. I think it sums up the Catholic/Protestant divide in Europe, where Catholic countries are more relaxed, easygoing and fun loving than sober, dour Protestant countries. I noticed this difference between the Netherlands and Belgium, and it is the same with Ireland and Scotland.
However far I travel, Ireland always seems to draw me back somehow. I have many good friends here, Irish as well as more recent arrivals. Dublin has the luxury of being small enough to be friendly, and big enough to be interesting. I felt absolutely overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of London, but Dublin has a sedate and laid back atmosphere that I cannot but enjoy The Irish Independent predicts another week of glorious weather, so what are you waiting for? Come on over.
My departure from Amsterdam was an interesting one, with a pizza evening with friends on my last night being thoroughly enjoyed by all. My early morning departure was more stressful though. I dropped my keys in the box, but had left some bags inside, along with my tickets. Frantically pressing the intercom, and praying at the same time, I was deeply stressed out. Thankfully my prayers were answered, and someone came down and let me in. I made my train after huffing and puffing my way to Amsterdam Central.
I changed in Brussels, and was soon on the Eurostar as it chugged through France and under the English Channel. I checked into my hostel and was thoroughly amazed how busy London is. After a night in London, I met an old friend at Waterloo and travelled with him to Surbiton for a few days. It is a lovely part of the world, and the weather is lovely. We went out for a lovely pub dinner and some great English ale. I really could get used to this place. I am now busy enjoyed the green and pleasant land and will keep posting as my journey progresses.
I don’t know where the time has gone this last year, and cannot believe that I am now due to leave Amsterdam. Residents at our dorm are packing up and heading home to Spain, America, Germany and elsewhere. With a little luck, and Facebook, we will all maintain our friendships in the years to come. One of our last, and most memorable, group activities was a canal boat tour for the students residents on Saturday.
We were all a little worried about the weather, since heavy rain fell the night before. However we were lucky to have good weather, and we sat in the boat enjoying a few beers as we chugged around the canals. It was an interesting experience to see the city from the level of the canals for a change. We went down Prinsengracht and onto the Ij river, before turning into one of the canals in the red light district and continuing through the city.
Passing through the canals of the Grachtengordel, we admired the glorious architecture of Amsterdam’s golden age. The city often feels like an open air museum, with a touch of surrealism which makes it feel unlike any other city I have known. The Netherlands has an abundance of water, and it should come as no surprise that the Dutch made such good mariners. We forget that for millennia before air and motorized transport, water was the medium which provided the means of travel.
One of my reasons for deciding to study in Amsterdam is that Dutch colonial and maritime power underpins so many of my life experiences. I grew up in Cape Town, South Africa which, like New York, was once a Dutch colony before being taken over by the British. While the United States did have three presidents of Dutch descent, it did not have the same political problems which grew out of two distint groups of colonists fighting for political power in one country.
One of our provinces in South Africa was called the Orange Free State, after the Dutch Royal Family, and this was changed after the 1994 elections to the “Free State.” The Orange Free State had, of course,been one of the two Boer Republics which went to war with Britain at the turn of the twentieth century. These Boers were the descendants of Dutch settlers, and named themselves after the Dutch word for farmer. Their ties to the land seem rather incongruous with the Dutch maritime power which circled the globe.
The Dutch were also the first Europeans to discover New Zealand, and are widely credited with being the frist Europeans to discover Australia. The latter is in some doubt, due to rival claims by Portuguese explorers. The west coast of Australia was the scene of a grisly shipwreck which resulted in a number of Dutch people being cast away on islands in the Houtmans Abrolhos. While the commander of the vessel sailed away to Jakarta, Indonesia for assistance, the remaining survivors were subject to an ordeal which is absolutely horrifying.
This ordeal is described in detail in Mike Dash’s book Batavia’s Graveyard, which is a riveting read. While in Fremantle, Western Australia I visited the Shipwreck Galleries museum, which contains relics from this and other wrecks. A part of the actual Batavia has been found and restored, and can be seen in a special temperature controlled room. Much of the silver she was carrying was also found, some encrusted in coral which grew over it in the centuries since the shipwreck.
It was on my return to Ireland that I stopped off in Melaka, Malaysia, which was another Dutch colony later to be taken over by the British. The importance of this site was that it controlled the straits of Malacca, linking west and east Asia. The Dutch certainly had the knack for finding a good trading post, and the British proved rather adept at taking such colonies from them. Many relics from the Dutch colonial period survived, including a bakery, administrative buildings and an old fort. In an interesting twist of fate, the wife of Cape Town’s first governor, Jan van Reibeeck, was buried at Melaka. Her body was later exhumed and reinterred in South Africa, at the request of the nationalist government which was in power during the 1950′s.
The Dutch certainly got around, certainly more so than I have. In fact, they got there first and even founded the city where I grew up. For those of you who live in New York, place names such as Haarlem and Brooklyn show the city’s Dutch origins. Wall Street is said to take its name from the Wallen, an area of Amsterdam which is now home to the red light district. The exploration of the world by the citizens of such a small country is amazing, and often forgotten. When I return to Ireland in July I will be returning in time to see the Orange parades on the “glorious twelfth”, which celebrated the victory of William of Orange over James II. It seems I’m never far from the Netherlands.
Finding myself with some spare time in Amsterdam yesterday, I went down to Het Amsterdamse Bos to enjoy being in nature. The only thing was that it is underneath the flight path for incoming flights to Schipol, so I heard the screaming of jet engines as they headed in to land. It was an interesting afternoon nonetheless, as I watched the clouds drift overhead on a pleasant afternoon