fillingthegaps

After ‘flirting’ with the borders of various countries while travelling through Germany, we have finally said goodbye to the Reich. Although yesterday’s stopover was actually right on the border between Germany  and Holland– it ran smack through the middle of the little town of Dinxsperlo. (the yellow markers are the border)

Dinxperlo gave me my first real taste of a Dutch town. It was not a big place; small and  cute. It was impossibly neat and tidy. Not just the odd street, but every street we walked down or drove past: neatly clipped hedges, immaculately groomed shrubs and mass-plantings in pocket-handkerchief front gardens; large picture-windows in every house, looking out on to the street, and each one displaying a precise arrangement of flowers or pottery or lace-work etc.

We saw  interesting signs of spring here too, with new growth glowing bright green against the previous season’s more mature shades. We  saw pine-cones looking like Christmas decorations on one of the garden shrubs.

Every home looked as if it were expecting a visit from the Queen, and I came to the conclusion that this tidiness must be built in to the national psyche.

We were fortunate in Dinxperlo: when we arrived we discovered that the designated parking area was closed and so we cautiously nosed our way down the street and found another parking area, attached to the same large sports complex. It had been raining most of the day, and as we edged our way back into dripping trees a man on a bike, wearing size 15 clogs, came along and told us we were not allowed to park there. Our hearts were sinking when he advised us, ‘but you can park just out there’ What a relief. And the timing turned out to be just in  time: no sooner had we got ourselves wriggled into position than this quiet parking lot suddenly became inundated with cars. The reason soon became apparent: group after group of young kids and youths came marching down the street, chanting slogans and carrying banners. It was obviously a festival/rally of some sort and it seemed that the whole town had turned up to  cheer them on.

And at least half the town arrived on bikes. I have never seen so many ordinary commuter-style bikes in one place before. We took a walk down the street while the people were milling about and I found it interesting, looking at the Dutch bikes. Being a keen biker myself I am always interested to see what other countries are doing with bikes. The Dutch have the advantage of living in a dead flat country. Boring it may well be, but it sure makes for easy cycling! With  no hills to contend with, the Dutch have developed the ultimate in commuter –biking comfort. Weight is obviously of no concern, although there are many aluminium framed bikes to be seen. All have sturdy mudguards, stylish chain protectors, streamlined built-in headlights, dynamo hubs, sturdy carriers and panniers, elaborate handlebar configurations and often 8-speed hub gears. (electric power-assisted bikes are also popular – but they are not cheap – overE1000)

All riders adopt an extreme upright position with backs ramrod straight and at 90 deg to the road, consequently handlebars are mounted well above saddle height. So cycling is a dignified and sedate business, and one sees all manner of people riding: workers in ordinary garb, bankers in pin-striped suits, mothers with kids in a baby seat at the back, (or in a tow-along carriage), ladies in high heels and snazzy hair-do’s, and everyone in between. The verdict: in Holland cycling is universal.

And the layout of the streets confirm this: a wide clearly-marked bike lane down either side of the street with a narrow strip left in the middle for 2-way traffic! Cyclists cruise with no fear for cars – they know cars will always politely give way to them. Incredible!

Dinxperlo has two features that make it unusual. The first is that the town actually straddles the border between Germany and Holland: it has a foot in each country. Ironically it has two supermarkets, almost opposite each other. Oneisin Germany and the otherin Holland. Although all prices are in Euros, the pricing structures are different. For instance, milk in Germany is almost half the price of milk over the road, in Holland! The border passes down the main street and a row of yellow diamonds on the road, show you which country yoiu happen to be in.

The other claim to fame is Dinxperlo’s ‘Smallest Church in Europe’ This is a really neat little church, about 8×6 metres in size. How or why it was built was not clear, but it appeared that the church was still in use, I imagine a congregation of 6 plus a preacher, would fill it nicely.

The next day we moved further north to a little town called Burgen. (from where  I am writing this) Burgen is ‘Mixture as before’ – tidy streets and houses and neat little garden plots.

We are parked on the side of a marina connected to the canal/dyke system. This is a million-dollar spot: we are right next to the jetty and watch the coming and going of various launches and yachts.

Just around the corner is the canal proper and on it ply the same massive barge-like traders that we saw all the time on the Rhine. Behind us is a large grassed area with a kids playground. The town itself is just 5-10 mins walk away so everything is dandy. Unfortunately the rain is chasing us at the moment and so our activities have been a bit restricted. However the kids have had a good time on the playground and this afternoon we all went for a walk to explore the town.

We found a colourful rack of clogs, which confirmed that we were indeed in Holland.

On our return we made a  close inspection of a couple of 2nd hand folding bikes that were sitting outside the harbour-master’s office. We have found our two old clunkers so handy that we have been keeping an eye open for more bargains to add to the stable. A thorough test-ride on each bike plus a run through on the folding action indicated that these bikes were in fair condition for their age. He wanted E45 for one and E35 for the other. Total E80. Without prompting he said we could have the two for E75. After some discussion among ourselves, and after testing the bikes, Jgirl14 made him an offer of E70 for the two. After about 4 secs hesitation he accepted, so now we have 4 bikes and a baby-carrier in our stable!The older kids are very excited to be getting back on wheels. I can’t see us acquiring any more, but this will mean that the older ones can get further afield in their exploring of an area.

By the way while in the town this morning (on a lone stroll) I got myself a desperately-needed haircut. Due to a slight mis-understanding of meaning, I ended up with a no.2 all over. Talk about ‘lost in translation’! However, the lass that sheared me was very pleasant and took about an hour to perform the operation – much better value than my recent cataract operation! The haircut was so severe that after Tgirl5 inspected me closely, she said to me, “I know you are still Grandpa because I recognise your blue jacket”! (even my son was prompted to comment that I look considerably better with longer hair)

today was going to be a restful day: an easy start followed by a good afternoon rest in preparation for a visit to the night market with the main objective of tracking down a couple of ‘’dragon’ shirts for the two older boys.

Well all objectives were achieved and so we could say it was a successful day, but the truth is, by the time we all got back to the hostel, we were all tired, nerves were frayed, tempers were short and bed seemed to be the best place for everyone to be! Now why would that be? (a short interruption to my thoughts here as Tgirl4 advises me that ‘going downstairs to the toilet with no pants on is totally cold’. I suggest to her that it might be a good idea to put some pants on before wandering around the hostel)

AS I said the day started well. We went for a walk, intending rather casually to see if we could find a barber – some of the herd were well past their shearing time. We checked out a few. Prices seemed to start at a base of Y20 with add-on’s in Y20 steps. Cheap enough by NZ standards (Y20 = $NZ5 approx) but when there is a mob of you there is always the need to find the best deal. Besides, your thinking changes as you get accustomed to values in the new currency and so you look for ‘best price’ regardless of NZ equivalents. And so it was that we came upon a splendid hairdresser’s manned by about 4 young men each adorned with the latest in Asian men’s hairstyles. Difficult to describe – long softly-flowing spiky tresses coyly covering sensitive almost feminine features, and one with artful touches of blond and pink streaks through. Hah! I thought, just the place to get my hair cut–NOT. But the price was Y10 – and that included a hair wash. So in we went. First the two young boys and Rob.

While they were being attended to, I went with the older kids for a walk around the block. By the time we got back, the team was ready to take the next batch.

These hairdressers were of unknown origin – they were Asian but did not speak the local dialect so even local customers were using sign language to communicate. But they had a stack of styling books and so every one was able to pick out a style they liked and leave them to it. In the end, the process of hair wash/cut/hair wash looked so relaxing (and cheap) that I decided to get a chop for myself. Very pleasant.

After that Mama took the littlies back for a rest as planned and the rest of us did a bit of shopping and then we returned to base.

So far all had gone according to plan! Now we all set off to walk to the Muslim Quarter which housed the Night Market, via the Drum Tower and the Bell Tower, two iconic landmarks which we we thought we could take in, en route. But as we are finding out more and more – ALL attractions in China attract a significant entry fee. So once again we contented ourselves with the outside view of things.

And so on to the Muslim Q and the Night market. Actually we got there before the night, and things were relatively quiet at the start. Rach and the boys trawled up and down the  narrow aisles, which by the minute thickened up with traffic, looking for Dragon shirts of a) the right size, b) the right colour and c) the right price. You need to know that the search  for Dragon shirts has been going on for about a month-obviously without success. The odds of being successful this evening were not good, but they were intent on tracking something down.

I think this is where the day started to unravel. It had been under stress during our walk: walking through crowded noisy streets to look at uninteresting things is not every young boys idea of fun, especially when bursting with suppressed energy, so they frequently found themselves racing beyond the parental bounds of control. This had to  be dealt with, for the boys safety and our sanity and resulted in some grumpy uncooperative children. And then the search began………….

Crowded Night Markets with intersecting alleys, peopled by crowds, bicycles, scooters, tricycle goods carriers, the occasional mini-van and even an arrogant Mercedes or two, makes for a hazardous environment, and a place easy to lose kids, not to mention adults!

As we trawled up and down, doubling back occasionally with some going one way and some another, things became to me at least, very confusing. Who was where and what they were doing became unknown. Communication was difficult due to to the incredible racket of hawkers hawking, stall holders trying to persuade you, vehicles tooting, bicycles dinging and everybody shouting to be heard above the noise. Bedlam is a reasonable description of the scene.

Add to the mix some tired, bored & frustrated children, and the tension rises.

Jboy13 was the first to get lucky, and Kboy11 grew despondent his size just did not seem to be around. So we broke off for some dinner in the food section.

That raised flagging spirits, to such an extent that the search was resumed. By this time the market was actually shutting down. Jgirl14 and I, having lost track of where anyone else was, discussed the merits of chopsticks with a pretty but desperate stall holder. She started off with a special very cheap price of Y660. As we were finally walking away she was desperately offering them at Y40.  But we were unmoved.

Finally a grinning Kboy11 and Mama appeared, having followed a guy to another place (who knows where?) who had actually produced THE goods – right size,design, colour AND price! We should have returned home rejoicing but the fact was too many of the kids had crossed the threshold and were too tired to care.

But what wonders a good night’s sleep can do! The happy purchasers proudly modeled their purchases for me this morning

and a bit later we  on a marathon walk: 15.8 km around the top of the Great Wall which surrounds this city, And not a word of complaint from anyone. These kids are fantastic – but more of that on the next blog.

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