Dressed to Kill

Last weekend, Schatz and I went to Oerlinghausen near Bielefeld, for a Viking weekend in their Archaeological Open Air Museum. It is a fairly small place, compared to what we know from Denmark, for example, but it takes you from a summer camp of ice age reindeer hunters via a stone age and a bronze age farm building all the way to an early medieval (Saxon) homestead. In addition, there are a number of buildings focusing on various aspects of daily life, such as a bake house, a brewing house, or a pottery. Mainly, visitors find period items in the buildings, and also some explanatory exhibits. In addition, the museum offers quite some workshops on things such as smithing, bow making, stone age bread baking, dyeing with plants, etc.

Last weekend, though, the museum was populated by Vikings, Saxons, Slavs, Merovingians, Ottonians, i.e. representatives of various parts of Europe from about 600 to 1050 AD. People showed crafts, there was a show kitchen informing the audience about period cooking with seasonal ingredients, there was an archery exhibit, some warriors explained early medieval weapons, armoury and warcraft, as well a small period fashion show.

The weather was good, the audience in good numbers despite a 'competing' town party - and as usual, I didn't really get to take any pictures. For those, I would like to refer you to blog entries by Kees and Marion, as well as Marion's Flickr pages.

Schatz had been working on a needle case during the weekend, which was snatched out of his hands by a greedy re-enactress almost before it was finished. Such early medieval needle cases made from bird wing bones (usually goose or swan) have been found all over Scandinavia.

needle box from upper goose wing bone

In this particular model, a piece of fabric inside the bone holds the needles. To get to them, you pull it out of the bottom of the needle case. It is typically hung from a woman's brooches or her belt.

Woman's coat based on Haithabu finds

Ute had just finished her new 2-layer coat based on finds from Haithabu. Most interesting and looking very warm indeed!

Last but not least, the garden of an Oerlinghausen local which has captivated my attention for many years.

backyard railway signal

I'm not sure whether the train ever stops here... but then maybe it's to regulate the slide traffic.

Laurel and Hardy wisely deciding NOT to climb the mountain

This actually is from the same garden. I guess it's better than having it all inside the living room...

Supermarket Daze

Have you ever felt dazzled by a sign? I mean really overwhelmed by the powerful, mind-boggling concept it conveyed? Well, it happened to Schatz and me last Saturday, as we were about to do our weekend shopping.

Seeds for Children just € 2.49 a bucket!

Seeds for Children. And they are even available in two varieties, as flowers or as sprouts! Sometimes you wonder about the geniuses behind such scientific achievements!

One bucket just left of the sign even says it quite unambiguously , this is 'Kindersaatgut' or 'children seeds'. Like carrot seeds or parsley seeds or sunflower seeds. Only for children.

Unfortunately, the buckets are not see-through and so, short of buying one, I can only resort to guesswork about the nature of these seeds. Are they small like koriander seeds or rather more like beans? Or maybe they're even bigger, like winegum bears, just maybe shaped like babies? Or maybe they're sorted into little bags, one for boys, one for girls?

We put various such theories to some friends at a brunch on Sunday but so far noone else has seen these mysterious buckets, let alone opened one and sown some children, and most certainly noone has ever harvested this produce.

So quite a few questions remain open: are these perennial children or for one season only? Do they come in different sizes, i.e. from bonzai to gigantic, like trees? What exactly is the difference between kids grown in bulbs or as sprouts? Do they prefer direct sun or shade, and can you grow them inside on your window sill?

Still rolling all these thoughts around in our minds, we entered a neighbouring discounter, where we suddenly faced a long row of red and green cartons.

Do they know it's still almost 4 months till Christmas?

We really wanted to scream and shout and throw bags of flour through the aisles but we decided to behave and just mutter words of unbelief. And return for a photograph...

Once upon a time, people started baking cookies and Christmas puddings and making Christmas confectionary as late as December. Then in November. About 10 years ago they started selling the stuff in October.

And now, for a couple of years, they have been trying to flog it as early as September. By the time it's Christmas, there will be hardly anything left and customers will long for strawberries...

Not us. None of that for us before the 4th Sunday before Christmas (1st Advent Sunday in Germany) or December 1st, whichever comes first.

But even that is still two and a half months away. Eleven long weeks to look at high-calory, high-sugar, low-fibre Christmas munchies when you really want to see broccoli, zucchini, bell peppers, cucumbers, mushrooms, fish - and maybe some pasta, cheese and wine....

But maybe the good news is that in a few years time they will start selling Christmas sweets on Easter Tuesday, and noone will get fat at Christmas anymore...

Up-nosed and wet in Alphen aan den Rijn

The first weekend in September traditionally marks a major Viking market in Archeon, an archaeological theme park in Alphen a/d Rijn, about 45 minutes from Amsterdam. And after not being able to participate for a couple of years, Schatz and I had decided we'd really have to make it this year.

Easier said than done, as we found out. First I came down with a bad headcold a few days before but then Schatz caught some of the same, too, and so we decided to not go a day early as we had originally planned. But hey, what is a sore throat and some major coughing when you're a hardy Viking! Besides, there are pills and syrups and warm socks and shawls...

And so we packed my trusty longship...

Chests, boxes, pillows, furs, cowhides, tent, blankets - almost ready to go

It's a good thing we bought a roof box some years ago, at least we now fit everything into the car and still are able to use the rear view mirror. If we don't also take the cooking gear, that is.

We are quite experienced these days as far as packing goes but carrying everything downstairs and packing the lot still takes more time than we would like. No pain, no gain - as they say.

By the time we hit the motorway north of Hamburg, it was after 2 pm. Still no reason to worry, the weather was good and maybe the weather forecast for Archeon, according to which it started raining there just about this time, was inaccurate. Wishful thinking!

A few minutes later, we half-heartedly listened to the traffic warnings on the radio. 20 km traffic jam somewhere on the A1 near Bremen. Arrrgh! But wait, maybe it was not on 'our side' but in the other direction. The next traffic alert, 15 minutes later, told us otherwise. Although it was 'stop and go' now and only 15 km...

Schatz started checking the maps for possible detours. There was a secondary road parallel to the Autobahn but we all know what happens when traffic jams - everybody takes the detour and that is jammed, too.

So we watched the trucks. They are usually pretty well informed... but not this time. They trucked on, and so did we, and a few kilometers later, traffic jammed. It was stop and go, and then stop and go, and then it stopped again. And, of course, it unjammed a few kilometers before the next offramp, so we got our hopes up again, and then a few minutes later it jammed up again. Of course.

About an hour later than we should have, we reached an Autobahn junction near Bremen. And here we found what we think was the reason for this traffic jam: traffic arrives in two lanes, then a third lane is opened on the left. So far so good. But for construction purposes, the right lane then is closed about 1 km later. I think you can guess what happens... people race to the front, then hit the brakes to get back in line. And this is passed to the back. The odd accident and overheated engine do not help. Sometimes I do wonder about the organizational skills of traffic regulators! Just a little, mind you.

In the meantime, though, we had time to admire the landscape (flat, green, cows) and our co-jammers. One of the trucks looked a bit out of place, though.

Keep on truckin'

Coming up behind it, the truck's cab reminded me of US highways, and lo and behold, it was indeed a US truck. I wonder whether they're allowed to blow US truck horns in Europe...

Once the interesting part was over, i.e. shortly after running free from the traffic jam, we changed drivers. Which gave me the opportunity to try my hand at some pictures - most of which didn't turn out too well until I used the GIMP's artistic improvement features.

Schatz, looking decent again with short hair
(according to his aunt)

By the time we reached Archeon, it was getting dark. Partly because it was way past 20h, and partly because big bad black clouds were pulling in. At the gate, we found out where we were supposed to pitch our tent - but when we got there, the only spot left was so muddy that nobody would even walk across.

Back to Martin, the organiser. On the way, we saw a spot where our tent would fit and the people already 'living' there were okay with it but we still wanted to make sure Martin hadn't planned to put someone else there.

SIGH. Sometimes it doesn't pay to be nice and decent and considerate: by the time we got back from Martin and turned the car and were about to start to set up the tent, it started to rain. Really Rain. And it got darker. No wonder, it was close to 21h by now. What to do? Maybe the rain would stop in 15 minutes time and we could pitch the tent without getting soaked? What if the rain went on, or even got worse? Then it would be even darker...

We went for the sure thing and put the tent up in the pouring rain. My trusty Astra stationwagon's lights lit the ground for us, and at least the rain was not too cold. By the time the tent was up, the ground sheet held a few gallons of water and so did our clothes. What the heck, we pulled the groundsheet out again, shook the water off and started to build our bed of sheep skins.

Around that time, the rain stopped. I still believe that if we had waited with pitching the tent, it would have kept raining for hours... pssst - don't you dare to tell me otherwise!

It was really dark now and with our neighbour's van gone, I thought I'd move my car to use my front lights better. Uh oh. The sounds my poor little diesel engine made when I tried to get it started... it seemed that the battery held enough power to provide us with some light - but not enough to start the engine! I guess 5 years of good use take their toll on those things.

To make a long story (okay, it only took 45 minutes but it felt like hours) short: we got everything into the tent, our neighbours helped us jumpstart the car, we pulled down the front flap without completely closing the tent, put on our dry Viking clothes, had a quick drink, coughed and sneezed some, and fell asleep.

Night view from a wet tent with fancy knotwork

The next two days were filled with showing crafts to the visitors, meeting with friends and acquaintances, not having enough time to talk to everyone or seeing everything. And rain. Always rain. (I guess we used up all the good weather in May, June and July...)

But hey, who cares about rain when you have a good rainproof tent and some sideflaps that will protect you even from sideways rain! We were even able to offer a little hospitality to Danny and Marion who sat with us both days. Thank you both for your very pleasant company! And for watching the tent when Schatz and I went for a little stroll on Sunday.

Marion and Danny hard at work: needlebinding

Like always, taking pictures is the last thing you get around to when you're dressed in period clothes and basically busy explaining and demonstrating. I guess that is one of the main reasons why I have come to like going to events incognito from time to time...

But we got around to taking a few more in our cozy little tent.

Lady Marion of York - hiding in our tent from some evil Sheriff

Lady Danny, aka Sews with Wolves

The pictures are taken with a small digital camera - and as practical as it is for reasons of size and being able to hide it in a historical setting, the quality of the images leaves much to be desired. Still, with a bit of goodwill, you are able to see the rain behind Danny in the above photograph. It was raining 'strings', as they say in German... which is just the stage before raining 'blares'...

A typical Schatz picture:
Danny 'up-nosed' and I wet and miserable and not in the mood for pictures.
Our motto: Nous Maintiendrons!

When the market drew to a close at 17h on Sunday, we packed as quickly as we could and - yes, really! - we got our things into the car as dry as could be after a day filled with rain. And around 2h the next morning, we had even managed to drive all the way back to Northern Germany and unpack most of our stuff, as well.

Conclusion: a good market, good people, good company, good visitors, good organisation by Martin and Rona, a good feast on Saturday night - we will be back.

Thanks for All the Fish

Although we love to sleep in on Sunday mornings, we decided last night to be sensible and mature and get up early enough to go to a nearby flea market and then to the gym.

We actually managed! After a quick sensible breakfast of muesli with cranberries in some yoghurt, we packed our gym bags and left. Schatz, like most every other man I know, is not very keen on shopping. Unless it's for food. Anyway, he too wanted to have a look at the flea market.

And it was crowded! It seemed as if twice the sellers were there this morning than usual. The sun was shining, the punters slowly walked - nay, were pushed by those behind - along the stalls. There wasn't that much interesting ware, though.

Except maybe for the yardsticks, but we do have a good collection ourselves, really.


Until we reached the rope seller. No, not Monsieur Leclerc disguised as a typical rope seller, but a supplier of all types of ropes, from hemp via sisal to artificial fibre. Sisal also is called sisal hemp, by the way, but it is not hemp but stems from the Agave sisalana. They just called everything hemp ropes in the past as hemp was for centuries a major source for fiber for ropes. The same, by the way, also applies to Manila hemp. Neither are therefore acceptable for Early Medieval re-enactment.

Anyway, we needed more than just a few meters, not just for us but also for some friends of ours. His roll held about 200 meters which was about double of what we were looking for. Schatz and I discussed buying it all, but balked at the amount of money it would cost. The seller overheard us, of course, and came with an offer that we couldn't resist, and so now we own a large roll of rope. Enough for us and To&Bi and possibly our next tent.

200m of hemp rope plus some tarred hemp cord

One thing I've learned: some things you never can have enough of...

From the flea market, we went straight on to the gym. Warm-up on the stepper (I hate that thing), then a round of machines to do all sorts of strange things to muscles I have never heard of. I can handle a lot of things but the following machine really has me going.

lateral deltoid machine

The first time I tried this, without any additional weight to pull, my right arm sort of pushed up the roll, my left arm just stared at me and said wordlessly "WHAT?". It simply did not know what to do. I had to literally tell the muscle in my shoulder and upper left arm to lift that roller bar in a weird outward move. That first day I would manage a lift or two and then had to stop. By now, I can lift 5 kilograms (which is the machine without any additional weight, so it's really zero) 13 times without interruptions. Yippeekayay!

Bah! Schatz does 20 lifts at 7.5 kg. I'll have to do something about that.
Like make him watch this YouTube video:



Anyway, I stopped after one round on the machines and went to the studio part of the gym where, mornings and evenings, all sorts of courses are given. But now it was quiet and I had the mirror wall all to myself. I have started to do Pilates, and in a group there isn't always time to really work out all the details of an exercise, and that's what I focused on today. I'll see Tuesday morning at the next Pilates session, whether it helped.

While Schatz was working through a second round of the machines, I decided to cycle a few miles. Which is pretty boring, unless you catch a good documentary on the tv above. Fortunately they do have the Phoenix channel - German public tv documentary channel. Anything from science to natural wildlife to interviews to history. The other day it was a documentary on Gagarin, today is was German history of the early 1930's.

Back home, Schatz started contemplating what cake(s) to bake. It's his birthday tomorrow and it's customary to offer cake to the co-workers on your birthday. He rather wanted to play his newly bought pc-game and so kept juggling plans but in the end he baked two cranberry cakes - one with chocolate and one without.

Cranberry Cake Schatz Style

Before the cake, though, Schatz prepared dinner (okay, I helped with the veggies). First he harvested new potatoes from the balcony. No no, I'm not kidding.

Balcony Potatoes

Some months ago, he planted a couple of potatoes that were about to rot to hell and back in a plant box on the balcony. Today he figured they were ready, and they sure were!

Foiled Wolffish

With them, we had some wolffish (Seewolf in German, falsely also called Steinbeißer) fillet, baked in the oven inside a foil bag with spring onions, chili, basil, garlic, thyme, rosemary and a touch of sage. And some zucchini and aubergine ratatouille.

Fillet of Wolffish with New Potatoes and Ratatouille á la Sorte

A glass of Chardonnay or two accompanied the meal quite well, and so did the after-dinner whisky, a 12-year old Caol Ila Single Malt.

Caol Ila - from Islay

Sláinte! Here's to Schatz!

Foxtrot India Tango in the Golf Yankee Mike

11:35h

Searching the internet for something has similar effects as searching a dictionary for a word or an encyclopedia for information: you regularly come across information you weren't actually looking for but which is so interesting that you spend more time with it than you should.

In my case, I was looking for ideas of how to translate a very German (labour law) term into Dutch, when I stumbled across a list of telephone alphabets on a Dutch website. You know, the Alpha Bravo Charlie Stuff, but in 7 different languages including NATO.

I was missing a few languages and went a-googling, and the second entry lead me to an FAQ which not only lists the various alphabets but also all sorts of variations from old handbooks or phonebooks.

The third source, of course, is the Wikipedia. The NATO Phonetic Alphabet is as good a starting point as any, it is useful not only when you are inside a NATO tank but also when you try to rearrange a plane ticket on the other side of the globe. And via the Wikipedia languages frame you get to quite some other national alphabets.

Bah! I'm procrastinating... back to my translation!


17:30h

I finished the translation in time to go to the gym. I'm turning into a fitness junkie!!!

Scary, really scary!


23:15h

Time to log off. I'll explain about the gym some other day.

Convenience Loo and Viking Tux

Last weekend, Schatz and I went to the Kreismuseum in Syke near Bremen for a weekend Viking craftsmarket. A group of about 25 re-enactors had been put together by Lutz from the Hacheschmiede. Crafts shown included smithing, bow- and arrow-making, working with bone and antler, turning wooden bowls on a lathe, filting, card weaving silk braids with silver wire brocading, turnshoe-making, silver smithing, pottery, and last but not least, sewing, needlebinding and spinning.

When Schatz and I arrived on Friday evening during a major downpour, most other people were already there and had put up their tents. Unfortunately, the space allocated to us was not only wet but rather under water and quite muddy - and on top of that we weren't quite sure whether it was big enough. And you don't want to drag your tent about in the mud this way or that in the dark to be absolutely certain you cannot fit it in.

Fortunately, Lutz still has a flat in the same town and so we bedded down in his guestroom for the night, hoping the weather would be better the next morning. Lutz is moving to another city and so his flat is rather empty but fortunately he has not yet dismantled his loo corner.

Convenience Loo with built-in beaker holder and reading table

With a maximum load capacity of 500 kg, the reading table is perfect to hold heavy exhibition catalogues, smith hammers or possibly even anvils. A must for any smith!

Just prior to leaving the museum grounds on Friday night, we had spotted the perfect place for our tent, though: right among a few 18th and 19th century gravestones, underneath some majestic trees with extremely good foliage... had we discovered this place when we arrived, the tent would have been up in no time. On the other hand, we would have missed the Lutz' loo then.

(c) Syke Kreismuseum

Anyway, the next morning we set up our tent in the 'graveyard' (top left, between the children's museum and the vegetable patch) at 8 am, while the space originally reserved for us was taken up by two ladies whose matrasses had already submerged the night before in a little brook that had formed underneath their Viking tent. The joys of roughing it!

Torsten was roughing it, too. We discovered that his second 'good' shoe had somehow not made it to Syke and so he had to wear his worn-out Iron Age shoes with major holes in their soles. Since I had packed the shoes and not discovered the shoe's absence, I did penance by doing all the outdoor walking (and fetching) while he kept his feet dry and warm on a few pieces of wood underneath his workbench.

Even though it was still raining some, we managed rather well under the trees, and the audience quite appreciated the reprieve from the rain and mud there as well. A good 250 people actually did show up despite the cold and the drizzle. Real die-hards, hats off to you!

In the meantime, Birgitt and Michi from the Trutzhavener Feldküche worked hard to prepare the banquet which we were to enjoy on Saturday night.

The banquet was exquisite as always. The food was medieval - with a bit of Roman thrown in for good measure.

Michi is happy when we are

Some excerpts from the menu:

- chicken fillet rolls with apple
- pork carpaccio with dill and chives
- moretum
- hare and rabbit stew with coarsely ground pepper and coriander
- grilled salmon on a bed of red cabbage with ginger and mustard
- leg of moufflon with apples, sauted with tarragon and parsley
- smoked pork roast with Swiss Chard (or Mangold) and gooseberries
- plum compote with a trace of black pepper
- wheat pudding

Leg of Moufflon! Bones! Moufflon leg bone! Schatz' eyes lit up but Susanne was closer. And faster!

Susanne and the Moufflon Bone Whistle

And once she had gotten hold of the bone - under the pretense of helping Timm with carving the meat - there was no way she would let go of it again. The twinkle in her eyes did not leave any space for doubt about who our bone and antler worker was at the market.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next day brought better weather and more than eleven hundred visitors. Schatz' dad and his aunt and uncle also came to visit and he showed them around while I demonstrated needlebinding, silver wire braiding the Vikingestrik, polished brass and bronze wire beads and explained and answered questions until my lips started to fray a little at the edges.

A little later, I was able to briefly visit the museum's permanent exhibition. If you are in the area, and like to be taken back not only to your own childhood but a bit further, do pay the museum a visit, it is most delightful. Their collection focuses on 19th and 20th century crafts, agriculture and household activities but there is also a typical 1930's classroom and a historical exhibition about the history of the area, including finds from as early as the Stone Age and right through to the Middle Ages.

Until the end of August 2008, the Kreismuseum is host to a special exhibition of quilts, under the motto "Man and Sea". Dutch and German quilters have put together an extraordinary collection that left me speechless. And without pictures of my own! Fortunately, some of the quilts can be found on the net...

One of my favourites is called Aquamarine Window by Miriam Pet-Jacobs. "Silence under water. You can open your mouth but no sound emerges. You are cocooned, as it were. Through a window you catch a glimpse of the chaotic world", she describes it. Another quilt that really caught my eye is by the same artist and is called Rhythm I. This two-sided quilt is made as a tripticon and somewhat wasted on a wall...

By 5 pm, when the museum officially closed its gates for the audience, we were worn out. The audience in Syke was just as curious as the last two times, not just asking questions but listening to replies and then asking some more... a big applause to all those who visited!

It was time to pack up and go home. When we took the tent down and lifted the ground sheet, we discovered that the voles in this part of the museum had not lazed about during the weekend: they had tunneled a penthouse addition to their extensive tunnel system right underneath our tent. Unfortunately, the cameras were already packed in our chests. And it was only when we arrived at home that we noticed that neither Schatz nor I had taken a picture of our little tent in the 'graveyard'. Wadda mistaka to maka!

At home, we also found the missing shoe in Torsten's car where it had been hiding between the backseat and the side wall since our return from Ribe a few weeks ago...

While carrying several heavy chests upstairs, we lamented the photographs we hadn't taken, the ones that didn't come out (Birgitt and Michi in their director's chairs supervising the food in the barn cooking itself), and the captions we never got to write about graveyards or voles or cooks. Until we unpacked some of the items we had acquired in Syke, that's when we started grinning broadly:

Tux goes Viking

The egg cozies are made by Anja Stolzmann from Dat Beekfolk. She made Tux from a picture we had given her, and the result is most amazing. The helmet is an egg cozy itself, of course. I'm not supposed to eat a lot of eggs but at least I'll do it in style from now on! The tux, by the way, is for a friend's birthday: kill that lobster, Jan!

Medlab Blues

Ack! 2 months since the last entry... *sigh*

There's quite some catching up to do, I admit, and I'll try to do that bit by bit in the coming weeks. But instead of working my way up to the present, I will keep this blog a bit more up-to-date and insert some past events or trips as I go along.

Today is "Off my Chest" time.

This morning, I left home a little after 9 am to walk to my GP in order pick up a form for some routine tests to be run at a medical lab. Of course, it wasn't ready and I had to wait until the doctor finished the session with the present patient.

I then walked to the lab nearest to the doctor's office, only to realise that I had forgotten my insurance card, and since the doctor's assistant had not bothered to fill in any details on the form, I would have had to pay for the tests myself and then claimed them later from the insurance. So I decided to pick up the insurance card and then return.

Not having eaten since 8 pm yesterday evening in order to be completely sober this morning, and the lab being about 3 km from my home, I decided to take the tram home. It was quicker than walking but still took me close to half an hour.

To save time, I decided to take the car and go to another subsidiary of the same medlab company, only a little over 1.5 km away. I should have taken my GPS system along: of course, there were road constructions between me and the lab and, of course, I misjudged at which end of the street the higher housenumbers were. By the time, I reached the medlab, I had driven more than 3 km, and probably could have walked there in the meantime through Rembrandt Park.

When I got there at 11.35h, number 57 was up on the screen. I got #76...

At 12h h noon, they had reached #67 with blood (and other things) being taken by 4 staff members. Not fast enough, and I went out to pay for 45 more minutes of parking. Only € 1.30/hr, fortunately, nothing like the parking fees in the city center.

And then the board froze. Apart from one staff member, all others simultaneously went on their lunchbreak or home or just vanished into thin air.

At 12.25h, #70 was called. That's when I went to reception and voiced my unhappiness about the slow progress. It seems they are immensely understaffed. I wonder why...

At 12.32h they reached #71 - who had gone home. 3 minutes later, more than enough time to walk the 7 m to the announced cubicle, they called #72...

Not wanting to collect a parking ticket on top of it all, I went back outside to put another Euro into the machine. In the meantime, they seem to have found someone else to help out and when I returned, I saw #75 on the screen.

I just had enough time to get hold of a complaint form and then gave some of my blood. The whole procedure took less than 5 minutes...

I filled in the form and left for home, via yet another detour. Of course.

Lesson 1: walking is faster than driving.
Lesson 2: if there is a next time, I'll go back to the first lab.
Lesson 3: having only water for 17 hours sucks! My brain is still befuddled some hours later...
Lesson 4: Venting really helps!

*****

Lesson 5: Never forget your camera when going on expeditions like this.

To make up for that, I'll leave you with some impressions from recent walks through Amsterdam.

On Herengracht, just north of Leidsegracht, I discovered a button shop with about the largest selection of buttons and jewelry and other objects made of buttons I have ever seen.

Knopenwinkel on Herengracht

The owner wasn't really happy about me taking pictures inside, so here is a view of her shop window in late June:

buttoned-up lampshade

From a completely different part of town, near Mercatorplein, is the following picture:

Hudsonhof gate

The gate was put there about 10 years ago when the whole neighbourhood was renovated and it turns this former part of Hudsonstraat into a quiet area, almost a courtyard.

Right - that's it for today, now it's time to get back to something even more painful than a visit to the medical lab... bookkeeping.