I awoke this morning to the sound of sirens. At first I thought that it was perhaps the police finally going to intervene in the all-night student party going on nearby (at 7 a.m. I could still hear the remnants of the party). Then a strange, loud noise started up, making it impossible to drift back to sleep. Curious about what was going on, I peer out the window and saw a couple of brandweer (fire department) trucks out in front of Café de Stad!
It didn’t seem to be a raging fire, since things seemed relatively calm and people were standing close to the building. No one was rushing about and there was no smell of smoke in the air. When G took Pippo out about an hour later, the fire trucks were gone and all that was left were a few policemen who had taped off the whole terrace area, stretching from Café de Stad up to Tilt.
I’ll be curious to find out what happened. Hopefully, nothing serious or terribly expensive to repair.
ETA: Well, it must not have been that serious. They’re open for business and all seems back to normal enough.
Eddie Izzard has a joke about the Dutch, saying it’s impossible for them to speak four languages: How do they fit them all in their head? Nobody can speak four languages!
Tonight, I felt almost Dutch. We were watching an English-language film, but it was taking place in Italy. One character was speaking Italian, so the Dutch subtitles were overlapping the English-language subtitles that were already built into the film. Since I couldn’t read either the Dutch or the English subtitles, because of the overlapping, I had to rely on my limited knowledge of Italian. Amazingly, I understood the majority of it and didn’t lose part of the plot! I was dealing with three different languages, but still managed to make it through! I’m almost Dutch! (Even if one of the languages isn’t a traditional Dutch language.) Even watching a really bad film can be an adventure.
I’m pretty sure that’s the forecast through the weekend. Europe seems to be in the midst of a bit of a heat wave recently, and for once, we haven’t been left out. As of right now, I believe the temperature is 31C/87F. Part of me thinks, no, it can’t be that warm. Yet, I’ve noticed today that even downstairs in the coolest, darkest spot in the house, it’s incredibly warm. I’m much more conscious of it than I have been the rest of the week. We really should look into getting a fan.
This warm weather is supposed to continue through the weekend, with bonus rain, to make things that bit more hot and humid. Ah, just like home! Fortunately (for me anyway), the temperatures are supposed to break come Monday or Tuesday. One forcast called for a high of 19C/66F. I’m almost giddy at the thought! I can leave the house again without dying of heat stroke!
I believe the words that escaped my lips were, “You have got to be kidding me.”
The reason for this? It was dark, I was awake, and the clock said 4:18 a.m. Second day in a row. This time I was awakened by someone outside on the street below yelling some sort of nonsense. This was soon followed by a couple having a discussion directly beneath our open window. Even Pippo woke up.
I tried desperately to go back to sleep, but as the sky got lighter and lighter, I could feel sleep running away from me faster and faster. Eventually I gave in and got up. I figured I’d continue to document the bright light and early hour, but rather than take a picture of the same clock tower (and too tired to get dressed and head out in search of the Dom Toren), I decided just to make use of my own little bedside clock, so I headed out to our terrace. The first photo I took was at exactly 5 a.m., as the bells of the clock tower chimed the hour. Then I decided to have some fun with it and set the clock in the pot with the gladiolas I planted this year. The photo above is the result. Not the sharpest photo, but you can see just how much light was shining down onto the face of the clock, washing it out, rather than hiding it in shadow.
We’d actually spent the last part of the evening there on the terrace last night, eventually going inside around 10:30. The light then was much the same as it was this morning at 5 a.m. Maybe I’m only meant to sleep during actual hours of darkness. This could be a long summer.
I’m up early again today, although this time it wasn’t the light that woke me. I actually managed to beat the light by about half an hour. I woke up shortly after 4 a.m. and it was still fairly dark, although there was a hint that things would be getting brighter soon. The birds started singing soon after and by 4:30, things were getting quite light. I gave up trying to get back to sleep around 4:45 and was outside taking photos (why not?) by 4:50.
As you can see here, this one was taking at about 4:52 a.m. Pretty bright out, isn’t it! The street lamps were still on, but were superfluous by that point. I wasn’t the only person up and about, though. As I was taking a few more pictures, I was passed by a lone biker, as well as a group of three women cycling past and chatting amongst themselves.
Considering how warm it’s been and how warm it’s expected to be all week, I might not fight these early mornings. They seem like the perfect time to get up and out for a nice walk before it gets too warm. Too bad I’ll have to go on my own, since Pippo is still asleep — in my spot, no less!
I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
All I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the seagulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trip’s over.
Giovanni and I took Pippo for a walk this morning before the heat and humidity got too bad — and before the storms finally arrived. These are just a few of the many boats we saw tied up as we meandered around the north eastern part of the centruum.
The infamous Dutch light. Although in this case, I’m not talking about the quality of the light, rather the timing. It gets light very early here. I woke up this morning and looked at the clock and thought the battery must be going, because it said it was 5:40 or so. Surely, that couldn’t be right. It was much too bright! Then I grabbed my watch to double check, and sure enough, that was the correct time.
I tried to get back to sleep, but it’s warm and humid, as well as bright, so by a few minutes after 6, I gave up and got up. Luna was pretty insistent anyway. Even she was up early!
So now I’m downstairs, where it’s cooler and darker, but still humid. You’d think I’d never left Florida!
(you may need to click through and view one of the larger sizes to see this best)
Giovanni and I were in the kitchen this afternoon when he suddenly saw something out of the corner of his eye. It seems we’ve had another visitor of the feline persuasion. This cat, who we think lives in the apartment building next door, was seated on top of the wall, watching us. Perhaps he’s a cat burglar, casing the joint!
While we’ve had all of these cat visitors, I haven’t seen my little blackbird friend in a while.
The World Press Photo exhibit is an annual photojournalism event showcasing winning photos in different categories. The exhibit starts here in the Netherlands, where the organization was founded, and works its way around the world for a year. When we moved here last year, I saw the banner for the exhibit at Janskerk, but didn’t end up visiting the show in time. This year, I made sure to see it. It opened Friday, and today Giovanni and I headed over to view the show.
The exhibit has some truly beautiful photos, some curious photos, and some truly devastating photos. The before and after photos of some boxers and the showcase homes of some of the wealthy Roma were some of the memorable images for me. While some of these photos can leave a smile on your face, there are also some truly heartbreaking images. There were a number of people there today — myself included — surreptitiously dabbing at their eyes.
It’s definitely worth a visit if it’s going to be anywhere near you. There’s a list of the dates and locations around the world here. If you can’t make it, or it’s not coming near you, you can see all of the photos in the gallery on the website.
