The Hike - 2

Resolutions should be upheld, right?
So I took myself on the second hike of my training for Northumberland,to our local beach in fact, and promptly overdid it.

The thing is, the weather was so glorious compared to my first hike, that I decided to go to the nearest saltwater beach (15 minutes by car)and walk all the way to the next village (Rockanje) and back.
The way there, with a southerly wind of 21 km/hr at my back, humidity of only 71% and a lovely 13C, was a doddle. A piece of cake. Nothing to it, I practically flew along with the numerous magpies overhead.

Hahaha, try having a picknick at this table... The last storm has moved a lot of sand!

The sun shone, the waves glittered happily in the distance (the tide being out all the way), the curlews ambled along the waterline searching for whatever they search for, dogs ran past me with exuberance and gave me an enthusiastic wink along the way and I could hear them thinking ("Hi! Isn't this great! Where's your ball?")

Then it was time to turn back. And all of a sudden I crash landed. For the low Winter sun was directly in my eyes, the cold wind blew straight into my face and my feet sank deeper and deeper into the sand. And I needed to pee. Desperately.
Now, a real hiker thinks nothing of peeing in the wild, I'm sure.
But there's no cover on Wetlands beaches, none. And the Rockanje beach shacks do not open their doors during the week until Easter.
What to do? Brave the dogs (and their masters...) and pretend to lace my shoes whilst piddling through my left pant's leg? I couldn't do it.

By the time I had reached the halfway back mark, I was panting and had bladder cramps. Besides, half the beach was now in my shoes between my toes.

I kept telling myself I was doing really well, and concentrated on the birds and watched the waves in the hope of spotting a seal (didn't though).

After 1 1/2 hours and 11.607 steps I reached the car.
The hike was lovely, especially after I had reached my bathroom, but I did wonder how on earth I am going to master those Northumberland hills in August.
Oh well, I have six months to reach my goal: good enough hiking stamina to keep up with the rest of the company!
Nice of you to join me, do come along next time?

The Hike - 1

Well-aware of the beneficial influence of hiking on the psyche, I have booked myself a hiking holiday in Northumberland in August, where I am supposed to be able to do 6 hour walks up and down those hills.
Being gruesomely out of shape, a hiking training program seems in order. Want to accompany me?

If you are following my blog, you'll know that I've had a rather bumpy ride of late...No need to go into it, but I really need some changes in my life and mostly in the mental department. And since mental and physical are closely intertwined, I have devised a training schedule for myself with the aim of getting me able to walk those Northern English hills without pain and without embarrassing myself.

So, today was the first day of the new and better me (loud guffaw inserted here!).

I set off from my new home on the outskirts of my suburb of Nieuw-Helvoet, and set myself a hike of 1 hour brisk walking.The weather conditions could have been better, but definitely a lot worse. It was dry, but foggy and damp (humidity 100%: quite normal for my part of the Dutch Wetland Delta) and very gloomy, with a light south-south-westerly wind of 16 km/hr and a temperature of 4C.

I decided to walk towards the old hill fort in Nieuwenhoorn.

I pass this when I cycle to work, and like it very much.It is part of the old naval defense works, but is in disrepair. Farmers are allowed to graze their sheep around it, and the sheep are accustomed to stand in the middle of the cycle path looking blank.

After passing the hill fort I came to the village of Nieuwenhoorn (now part of my naval town of Hellevoetsluis)and turned right. This wind mill, called Zeezicht (Why? You cannot, and was never able to, see the sea from here!)has been an eyesore for years as it was practically falling apart. But thankfully now it is being repaired. 

Walking along the main road into Hellevoetsluis, I came across this placard.

This needs some explanation as to why it made me laugh out loud. 

Here we go; a quick lecture on the Dutch psyche.

We are a nation of ice skaters. You think the Canadians have the honour, but you are wrong. We Dutchies have invented ice skating, and it is in our blood. The placard reads "Sharpening Skates" and it is a manifestation of wishful thinking. For we hardly have any frosts anymore, and if we do have them (like this past week in fact), the temperatures don't drop below zero far enough to get us ice thick enough to skate on. This hurts. It makes us migrate to parts of The Netherlands where they do have ice thick enough (the North-East, where the mild sea winds don't reach)or even to Austria to skate our largest skating event on the Weisensee and pretend we are in Friesland.

This Blue Heron at the end of my street is the better for it - they suffer when there is ice. It watched me walk past and cheered me on. They are quite common in my part of the country (I remember English twitchers going wild with envy when I told them I see them every day in my country)and pretty tame. Still, naive bird feeding people do get an eye pecked out by herons from time to time...

And that concludes our first hike. I hope you've enjoyed walking along with me and will join me next time.

Birdlife in Old Dutch Graveyards.

As a lover of small and large birds, my new domicile next to an old graveyard offers me the best of both worlds: plenty of small birds to watch and some large birds of prey which prey on them and can be watched in turn.
Below is my favorite small bird, which travels in cheerfully chattering flocks. Isn't it pretty?!

There's something about graveyards, isn't there? They either frighten you or appeal to you, hardly anyone refrains from having an opinion about them.

I fall into the "I like 'em!" category. Why? Because they are very peaceful, no pun intended, usually well-tended and a safe haven for birdlife in our built-up stony suburbia.

Whenever I find myself in a large city in a foreign country I always make a point of visiting a cemetery or two; Pere Lachaise in Paris being one of my favorites. Below is one of the photos I took in the Montmartre one, mainly because I took a shine to the name and the way his bronze sheet was wrapped. 

But I remember visiting a large one in Nürnberg and liking it very much.
Morbid? Perhaps. But not so much when you spot a fellow like this one flying out of the trees.

Owls are rare so near to my town, so spotting one is a festive occasion for me.
We mainly have field owls and screeching owls, and the occasional barn owl (which are very rare due to there hardly being any barns with access for them anymore).

Yesterday, it being a beautiful frosty quiet morning when I walked old Gina along the sloot next to the graveyard, I was stopped in my tracks by a kestrel almost bumping into me. He was carrying away a living blackbird and I don't know who was more shocked by our meeting, the bird of prey or me. Gina gave a little yelp, she has an inbred dislike of large birds, probably because they vied for food on the same rubbish dump as herself when she still lived in Istanbul as a pup.

But name a small bird which lives in my part of the country, and you'll be able to spot it in our graveyard. I get their point; plenty of fresh water in the trough for filling up the watering cans, plenty of cover in all those pretty flowering bushes and in the pruned ones as well and plenty of berries and insects to eat.
Obviously it's hard for the birds now that we are having a cold spell, so I provide seeds, nuts and other tidbits for them in my garden. They reward me by pooping all over the garden furniture... Oh well.

Viggo's Blog: Viggo Goes Existential

Hi fans, Viggo here!
Oh my, what a week we've had!
David Bowie passed on and now a black star, Alan Rickman waving to him in passing, that husband of what's-her-name as well...It does give the astrological sun sign of Cancer an entirely different aspect, doesn't it?

Meanwhile I have had to do my business in the garden under atrocious conditions this week.

You lot in the UK think you are having it hard, do, you, with your nice fluffy snow? Well...I have had rain, rain, rain, and rain again.

It was so bad I have taken to spending my entire nights snuggled up to my woman. Which is hard work in itself, as she tends to shove me to the side of her bed and I have to shove back and bite her nose.

Besides, she needs a lot of convincing I do not want to go out after 10 pm. "But you always go out at night, Viggo?" (note the question mark, for it isn't a question really!) I swear she can purr if she wants to.

Still. What I really wanted to pose to you is this:
Samuel Butler once said the following:

Life is not an exact science

it is an Art

I see my woman struggling with life at the moment, and she has put this quote on her door. (How on earth it is going to help her, only Frith knows. It's not going to step down from that door and invite her out to the pub, now is it?)
And then again, Alan Rickman (yes, him) has also quoted something worthwhile:

If only Life could be a little more tender

and Art a little more robust...

So what we are looking for here, is a Life which is arty and tender and robust at the same time, right?

Translating this into Viggo-Speak this would mean: redecorating my latest customised box, whilst being tickled on my robust belly, I suppose.

Hm. Could do.

Right. Enough of this deep shit.

I wish you a wonderful Sunday! Spend it wisely! Visit friends! Go to the pub! Write a quote on your door!

Tarrah!XX

A Tribute to David Bowie

How do you pay hommage to and write a tribute to an icon? 
Without it being trite, undeserving, not good enough, not nearly being able to cover or even touch the massive and unending and everlasting impact this artist had on your life and on the lives of hundreds of thousands (perhaps millions) of people?

Millions? I can hear your skeptical grunt.
But yes, think about it. He sold millions of albums. That means millions of us, of you and me, listened to his songs and have an opinion about them.
Many of us (and I am certain I can use this pronoun) can vouch that his music can be called life-changing. And sometimes even life-saving.
Ridiculous?
Not really. Besides, at the start of his career he was no stranger to ridicule himself. He continued on his creative path regardless.

A classmate introduced me to Bowie when we were 13. He had just bought the newly released Aladinsane (at great cost; vinyl albums cost us teenagers 4 to 6 weeks pocketmoney at least!) and raved about it. I had not heard of this British guy, but was fascinated by the album cover even before I heard the music. Who was this? It's hard to imagine these days, but I had to wait for weeks before I finally spotted a tiny item on Dutch TV about this singer. But after that, seeing him move, hearing him sing and speak, I caught up with a vengeance.
I got an after school job with the aim to buy all the albums released so far, and I managed so in quick succession.

It didn't stop there. Oh...sure, I developed a massive schoolgirl crush and dreamed of Bowie coming to the windy Wetlands and rescuing me from my humdrum unhappy life.
But as I grew older and slightly wiser, I began to realize the worth of his lyrics.
His promise that I could hold on to his hand has helped me through many a dark night. And I can (but will not, for fear of boring you to death) quote many, many, many of his song lines that have defined me and my life and have indeed helped me through bad times.

He has been an example. Not just to me, I'm sure, but to many around the globe. Ground-breaking, taboo-shattering, refreshing yet humble and always honest.

He will be missed so effing much. I will miss him so effing much...

Eddy Izzard has just Tweeted that all radio stations should play just Bowie songs today, to pay him a compliment. What a great idea.
But I would like to take it a step further. 
Why not live the rest of our lives with the colourful Bowie in mind? We can be heroes, right, (even if) just for one day?

The (Animal) Positive Thinking List

Hi there, nice to see you!
High time for a positive injection to counteract the wintry weather and assorted blues.

Making lists always gives me a boost. And it will be useful to count my blessings at this point in time. So here we go:

1. The old graveyard near to my home is a haven for small birds.

When I walk old Gina it lifts my spirits to watch the birds which flutter around the edge of the graveyard. Especially now, in Winter, there are numerous birds using the well established greenery in the graveyard for cover. But it's not just the very small birds; woodpeckers, pheasants and jays and all kinds of crow family birds live there as well.

2. My new neighbourhood turns out to be such a pleasant quiet civilised place to walk the dog.

My old dog needs a lot of walking, as she tends to be a borderline incontinent biddy. She stumbles out of her basket around 10.30 pm, but then can sniff for ages without doing her business, and then moan and groan me awake an hour later. The same goes for the mornings; I walk her around 6.30 am and she wants to go again an hour later. Which is a bother, since I need to leave for work around that time.

But, the good news is that I can have a quiet walk without any fuss around here.

3. My new neighbour told me we have hedgehogs here.

The hedgehogs are having a difficult time in my town, since most people have caught the paving fever and thus the hogs haven't enough greenery to live in. But I was told that he has regular prickly visitors for his mulberry tree, as they love the berries. They are having their winter snooze right now (at least I hope they are!), but they'll come snack in Spring.

4. Viggo has settled down and feels at home.

He blogs himself, naturally, but it pleases me to tell you that he feels completely at home here. He has tried staying out all night a couple of times, and apart from the one night we had to rescue him from that feisty red and white tom from 4 houses down (the racket!!) it went really well. But now that the temperatures are finally going down to something resembling real Winter, he opts for going out for a bit around 10 pm and then comes in and spends the night alternating between my bedroom windowsill and my bed. I occasionally wake up to see him keeping vigil on the sill, and feel like having a body guard.

5. One of the neighboring houses has peacocks in their garden.

There is an orchard at the end of my street, and in that orchard is by far the largest and ostentatious house of this area. I can just about get a glimpse of that house when I walk Gina past the (always closed) huge gates, and it looks forbidding. But the good thing about that house is that is has beautiful peacocks patrolling the front drive. I can sometimes hear them screech (ever heard a peacock's call? It is like a mix between a power saw and an old woman being murdered with that same saw) and it reminds me of my youth, when I also had a house nearby where they kept peacocks. 

Viggo's Blog: Any New Year's Resolutions, Folks?

Hi fans, Viggo here.
My woman has been cleaning and clearing my new home like mad, so I wondered whether you have made any resolutions of your own?

Naturally I have given it a lot of thought, and I have come to the following list.

Read my resolutions and use them to your advantage!

* Sort and calibrate flightpath in order for those birds to fly straight into my mouth

* Lose weight, preferably without cutting back on crunchy nibbles

* Devise plan to get rid of cats from the hood (namely: Big Red, Old Patches, Mies, Tiny and     Mr X)

* Pee on all the torn up cardboard before my woman burns it in the improvised wood burner

* Suss out method to be able to open up that door to the kitchen (as well as all other doors in the house. Can do. Except for that kitchen door they're a doddle!)

* Arrange means to jump back into own garden from neighbour's garden; my woman having to get out of bed put the stepladder to the fence in the middle of the night in the pouring rain is embarrassing as well as pissing her off

* Find secret passageway to neighbour's roof; climbing that weeping willow in plain sight is simply not good enough - stealth is the keyword!

If I think of any other good points, I'll update the list.

Let me know about your resolutions, why don't you?

Speak to you soon, cheerio!