The Hike 13 - The Edges and Chatsworth, Derbyshire

Well, you prepare (or attempt to) for six months and then all of a sudden the time is there; you travel for 13 hours (car, metro, train #1, train #2, train #3, taxi)to go rambling in The Peak District.

The least said about this journey the better - suffice it to mention that 4 hours next to a kicking three year old on the lap of his mum was not the luxurious experience Eurostar had promised me...

To start this story off, I am the chubby incognito one in the hat close to lovely Tessa, one of our three leaders. Would you believe that bear hung there all through without complaining the once?

I met another Dutch girl in the taxi from Derby (a proper girl, not a middle-aged one like myself)and we were late for cream tea but just in time for the quick ramble around Thorpe Village. Our hotel, Peveril of the Peak, is situated next to Thorpe Cloud. Cloud is an ancient Saxon word meaning 'peak', Tessa explained, and the next photo will show you why those Saxons named this hill thus!

I would have given it another name; the old Dutch "tiet". But never mind that.

Thorpe was small but sweet, with your typical English church and graveyard.

Perhaps I should explain that I have 'a thing' for graveyards. They do not frighten me at all, and I visit them wherever I travel as I always find them very tranquil peaceful havens.

The Peveril turned out to be a somewhat old-fashioned but very friendly hotel with great food. Let no-one ever dare mention to me that English food is awful!Perhaps it kind-a was in the Fifties (-to Nineties), but nowadays it is good to great. 

The next day, up bright and (very) early due to the time difference I had my full English before booting up and boarding the rambler's bus to the Gritstone Edges of Froggatt, Curbar and Baslow.

The names alone made my heart speed up with anticipation! And I wasn't disappointed. The trail along the hill ridge was spectacular (especially for a flat Delta-dweller like myself), with amazing views, blooming heather, huge rock formations and very good company.

As this was my very first organized hike/ramble I didn't quite know what to expect - would I be the odd one out? But the other ramblers turned out to be an extremely friendly bunch.

By the way, my t-shirt reads " You Only Live Once"

After some hours we descended through Chatsworth House park, where it resembled Brighton Beach. Cars spilled over from the carpark into the gardens themselves, somewhat spoiling the view we had of Chatsworth House itself.

I was glad I had visited it before, unspoiled.

From Chatsworth, after lunch underneath a great oak, we had to slog up the hill to Edensor.

Quite a sweet little village, but for me the Gateway to Hyperventilating Hell.

After Edensor we had to climb a series of hills to get to Bakewell,and that 1,300 feet (300 m) ascent almost did me, flat country walker, in. First my head started to pound, then my vision started to waver, I became very short of breath and to top it all our leader Rose set off every time just as I heaved myself up to the others so I didn't get a chance to catch my breath.

In short, I couldn't keep up and was overheating. I panted my distress to another walker, Jane, who took matters in her own hands and shouted towards the front that "the Dutch lady" was in trouble.

By the time Rose had reached me I was kneeling on the grass and almost throwing up. But: I got extra water from the others, some kind man lent me his spare hat (so sorry mate, I have forgotten your name but I will be forever grateful)and Rose decided for my sake to take a short cut to Bakewell through the woods, so I could walk in the shade.

The only snag was that the descend was extremely steep, causing some of the others difficulties in turn...Sorry guys and girls - mea culpa! But it saved me. The hat helped straight away in keeping my head cooler, I got my breath back and the nausea passed to a memory I will not forget in a hurry.

In Bakewell we had 45 minutes to stand in line in the local pub and I bought myself a pint of blissfully cold and sweet cider to get my strength back.

I completed my very first proper Derbyshire ramble by taking a cold shower by choice(another first!)and falling asleep until it was time for our briefing for next day's ramble. 
Hey, I did it! But I was sore the next day...whoa.

The nitty-gritty:
We officially walked 9 miles (14.5 km) which came down to 24.097 steps for me (it certainly felt more than 14.5 km!!) in sunshine, temp. 23 degrees.
The name of the nice hotel I stayed in is The Peveril of the Peak, Thorpe, Dovedale, Ashbourne, Derbyshire DE6 2AW, grid reference SK157505.

The Hike 12 - Rhoonse Grienden

In preparation for my hike in The Peak District (soon, soon!!) my friend Jo and I took ourselves to a typical Delta landscape yesterday: the Rhoonse Grienden.

Not only the landscape was typically Wetlands Style, so was the weather... It rained continuously.

But never mind, we always tell ourselves we will not melt. 

The Rhoonse Grienden are a tidal landscape just off the River Oude Maas, in the South-Holland province of The Netherlands. In fact Rhoon is a suburb of Rotterdam these days, but it used to be a sleepy village on the Oude Maas, and when you hike there it is very easy to forget the humongeous city on its doorstep. We passed one dog walker and one cyclist.

The Rhoonse Grienden used to be a working landscape grown for its willow branches which were then made into lobster and eel pots and willow baskets. My great-grandfather was a willow basket weaver and dirt-poor, with 16 children who had no shoes on their feet and 16 underpants between them, according to my Mum. 
Nowadays it is put aside and conserved for "nature" and is very proud of the fact that it has 4 legitimate brown beavers living there. It were those beavers that Jo and I hoped to spot yesterday.

I have been on the lookout for beavers for thirty years in the few areas that claim them, but so far I have never seen one in the wild (mind you, I didn't see one in Algonquin Park Canada either). Yesterday was no exception...alas. But I did find a beaver castle! Can you make it out?

It was low tide, so lots of mud, which made it easy to spot all kinds of tracks.

As you can see us Dutch hikers are not daunted by a spot of rain. Which is a good thing, since my favorite weather woman Helga van Leur posted new statistics proving that climate change will get us even more rain in the years to come.

The Rhoonse Grienden have several hikes mapped out; the longest will take approx. 2 hours. They are very easy to follow, simply walk from number to number and follow the red arrows. We did a 1 hour one.

Mind you, when you are allergic to the color green, give this one a miss!

Will you just look at this willow (and me)! Isn't it smashing? Who needs Greek olive trees? We've got beautiful characters right on our doorstep.

Right, the nitty-gritty:
Rhoon is to the South of Rotterdam, signposted, and to find the Grienden simply follow the signs saying Oude Maas. You can park your car right at the entrance (opposite a great restaurant/golf club called Abel).
We walked 8.012 steps which comes down to approx. 12 very wet km.
It rained, 19 degrees C, wind sw 32 km/h.
When you want a more classy expensive meal, Rhoon boasts a restaurant in a stately home called Het Kasteel van Rhoon.

Next post will be about my 6 days hike in the Peak District, so keep your eyes peeled!
Join me next time?

How Come Scandinavians Are Such Good Songwriters? (Ane Brun)

Forever a poor sleeper, I use music to help me drop off. My headphones are essentials in our house - not only do they keep me from disturbing my housemates, but they keep said living companions from disturbing me taking into account our thin wooden walls...
Searching for relaxing music has taken me to obscure places on the www I can tell you!
A couple of years ago I stumbled across a performance on Pinkpop by a Norwegian singer called Ane Brun. It intrigued me, and I looked her up on YouTube.

There's plenty material there, in all manner of forms, from official Vevo to short three-song concerts to fan-video stuff. And what struck me was that Ane is somewhat of a chameleon. Different hairstyles, different clothing style (although always eccentric - so that's a constant I suppose) but consistently good music. Not all quite to my taste, but most of it is. And she happens to attract damn good other singers/musicians.
Her full name is Ane Brunvoll and she's born in 1976 in Norway, but residing in Sweden these days. According to my trusted source Wikipedia she's brought out 11 albums to date.

Ane's English is quite good, albeit sometimes quaintly grammatically weird, but that only adds to her performance. She has the Scandinavian s and a, but not so that it becomes annoying. And she has the voice of an angel. Mind you, the songs in Norwegian ring out to me, they are wonderful, even though I do not understand a word of it.
And she does a good cover as well. Use the link: Ane Brun with Halo

For my Dutch readers: Ane comes to TivoliVredenburg Utrecht on Sept. 4th.

Now, since almost all entries to the Eurovision Song Contest 2016 were written by Scandinavians, I would like to pose the following question to you:
How come Scandinavians are such good songwriters?
Could it be the isolation? The climate? The huge quantities of fish they consume? The disposition? The fact that booze is so expensive? The growing up in an IKEA room?
Help me out here!
Daring to Love (her original song)

Viggo's Blog - Our One-Cat Wrecking Ball!

Hiya fans, Viggo here.

Looks cute, eh, our little Bowie?
Well, let me tell you, he is a destructive so-and-so!
My woman assured me I was nowhere near as adhd as Bowie is. We took him to the vet this morning, or at least she did, as it was time for his repeat jab, and was he properly impressed with the office and sharp things? Nope. He raced around that room as if he owned it and didn't bat an eye when the vet stuck in that needle. Show off!

My woman was a bit apprehensive about his weight (blaming MY weight, can you believe that?) him being very lanky and slim, but the vet said he was beautifully on target.
Ppppsssssscht!
He apparently is going to be a large cat.
So what that I am not such a large cat: I am a very clever cat.

Just to let you envisage what our household looks like now, I've written you a list of the items Bowie has managed to damage, maim, shred, tear, drop, open, throw over or spill:
1. the Bonsai
2. The Ficus
3. the fish tank (he can open the feeding hatch - hm, I've watched him carefully. Might try that myself sometime)
4. the Orchid
5. the curtain
6. the bug door
7. the candle sticks
8. the Fern
9. a bottle of beer
10. a bottle of nail polish remover (ha! that was funny actually, you should have seen his face when that smell hit his nose! It made my evening)
11. numerous book covers
12. even numerouser newspapers
13. loo rolls
14. both the woman and little woman are covered in tiny scratches and bite marks - I've seen my woman, who is very patient, throw a fit when he bit her in the left buttock. "You are going too far now, you little bugger!" Mind you, she is over-sensitive when she's reading, I've noticed that often myself.

This morning he managed to throw himself off the stairs, right from the top step, and would you believe the little brat did a salto in midair and landed on his feet? Gina, being directly in the flight path, didn't even blink. As if she sees cats flying past and landing in front of her nose every day.

So. Am I still enthusiastic about my little friend?
Well, I must admit we do have fun sometimes. We play tag under the bed and in the garden. And we eat our meals together now, sharing nibbles (those baby nibbles are yummy!) and a litter tray. We sleep together on my woman's bed, although he pisses me off when he starts racing around trying to catch her toes. Very undignified! I've stopped doing that years ago.
And I hate it when he jumps on top of me when I'm trying to catch forty winks.

Right. Enough of Bowie. Be talking to you, tar rah!

The Hike 11 - Haringvliet Tour

Our Wetlands weather is acting up like the drama queen it is...Loads of rain, then sudden sunny spells and as soon as you've had a chance to dig out the sunglasses huge grey clouds blow in from the South-West again. In other words: a typical Dutch Summer.
They've even spotted a twister near Biddinghuizen yesterday!

For today's hike I remained close to home again. Saving up the cents for going to the English Peak District next month! I took a 1 1/2 hour walk along the Haringvliet, the closed off sea arm which turns into the river Nieuwe Merwede near Dordrecht.

The map shows my island - Voorne is part of three now interconnected islands Voorne, Putten and Rozenburg;  the Haringvliet is the body of water leading down from the left and the dam you can see there is the Haringvlietdam connecting Voorne to the island of Goeree-Overflakkee. You can also see that there used to be another sea arm above Voorne and Rozenburg,but that it is now almost totally filled in by artificial islands and harbours carrying industry: our famous Europort.

My hike took me from the North-West part of town (where I live) through the polders to the Haringvlietdam and then down along the water back to town.

The view from the Haringvlietdam towards the North Sea

Our seawater is not green nor blue, but greyish, due to the sediment on the bottom. It is cold, too, not reaching higher temperatures than 24 degrees in a very hot summer. Due to the weather we've been having it's barely 18 degrees now. But the quality has improved somewhat during the last twenty years, and we now regularly see seals again.

The Haringvliet with Goeree in the background

This is typical Haringvliet vegetation. We call it Kattenstaart, or cat's tail.

If you continue all along the Haringvliet, you eventually end up in Hellevoetsluis harbour, with its characteristic lighthouse.
I didn't this time, I stayed on the outskirts.

All along the path (only accessible to walkers and cyclists) there are many animals to be seen. There are the domestic sheep and horses, but more interestingly if you are in possession of a keen eye, you can spot the harrier and buzzard here, hunting for rabbits,  hares and mice and voles. Every dusk (and dawn) the deer come out to graze on the lush grass. The fox is elusive, and in the thirty years that I have lived here, I have only spotted it once!
Hence the photo underneath was taken somewhere else by my son. But I am always on the lookout for it, and for the equally elusive osprey. Today I spotted neither. The gnats did spot me though...

Photo by Wibe Koopman Photography

The nitty-gritty:
My hike took me 1 1/5 hours, and I walked 10 km.
This time I wore better pants - no chafing!
It was 18 degrees, mostly cloudy, with wind nnw 26 km/h, humidity 69%.

And that was it, folks. Hope you've enjoyed walking with me. Until next time!

The Hike 11 - Haringvliet Tour

Our Wetlands weather is acting up like the drama queen it is...Loads of rain, then sudden sunny spells and as soon as you've had a chance to dig out the sunglasses huge grey clouds blow in from the South-West again. In other words: a typical Dutch Summer.
They've even spotted a twister near Biddinghuizen yesterday!

For today's hike I remained close to home again. Saving up the cents for going to the English Peak District next month! I took a 1 1/2 hour walk along the Haringvliet, the closed off sea arm which turns into the river Nieuwe Merwede near Dordrecht.

The map shows my island - Voorne is part of three now interconnected islands Voorne, Putten and Rozenburg;  the Haringvliet is the body of water leading down from the left and the dam you can see there is the Haringvlietdam connecting Voorne to the island of Goeree-Overflakkee. You can also see that there used to be another sea arm above Voorne and Rozenburg,but that it is now almost totally filled in by artificial islands and harbours carrying industry: our famous Europort.

My hike took me from the North-West part of town (where I live) through the polders to the Haringvlietdam and then down along the water back to town.

The view from the Haringvlietdam towards the North Sea

Our seawater is not green nor blue, but greyish, due to the sediment on the bottom. It is cold, too, not reaching higher temperatures than 24 degrees in a very hot summer. Due to the weather we've been having it's barely 18 degrees now. But the quality has improved somewhat during the last twenty years, and we now regularly see seals again.

The Haringvliet with Goeree in the background

This is typical Haringvliet vegetation. We call it Kattenstaart, or cat's tail.

If you continue all along the Haringvliet, you eventually end up in Hellevoetsluis harbour, with its characteristic lighthouse.
I didn't this time, I stayed on the outskirts.

All along the path (only accessible to walkers and cyclists) there are many animals to be seen. There are the domestic sheep and horses, but more interestingly if you are in possession of a keen eye, you can spot the harrier and buzzard here, hunting for rabbits,  hares and mice and voles. Every dusk (and dawn) the deer come out to graze on the lush grass. The fox is elusive, and in the thirty years that I have lived here, I have only spotted it once!
Hence the photo underneath was taken somewhere else by my son. But I am always on the lookout for it, and for the equally elusive osprey. Today I spotted neither. The gnats did spot me though...

Photo by Wibe Koopman Photography

The nitty-gritty:
My hike took me 1 1/5 hours, and I walked 10 km.
This time I wore better pants - no chafing!
It was 18 degrees, mostly cloudy, with wind nnw 26 km/h, humidity 69%.

And that was it, folks. Hope you've enjoyed walking with me. Until next time!

The Hike 10 - Wetlands Meadows Tour

Still prepping for my hiking holiday in a month's time...and not a lot of it - time. So I did a quick one hour training around my own wetland meadows. And to keep it interesting for myself, I took some photos for you. Want to walk along?

The starting point was the village of Nieuw-Helvoet, where I live. At the end of my street I took a right which takes you directly out of the village into the "polder". If you don't know - a polder is low lying cultivated land criss-crossed by drainage ditches called sloten. We have to do this, otherwise the land would be swamped in many places.

This is such a sloot, covered by duckweed, but it is the swans flower I want to show you. At least, that's what we call it, I don't know the latin name. When I grew up this flower was almost extinct, but due to better water pollution management it has reappeared. The yellow one is koolzaad, rapeseed, very prolific in my part of the country.

I walked towards the first crossroads and took a left, along the Ikkerseweg (love that name, as it has no meaning whatsoever) again next to a sloot absolutely framed by wild flowers.

You recognize the poppy, of course, and camomile. We pick the camomile for tea, but also to put into the dog basket, as folk lore has it that the strong smell keep fleas at bay. Sadly this does not really work 100%, so I still have to give my animals those flea drops.

The Ikkerseweg has a copse halfway, which is taken over by Giant Bear's Claw flowers(hogweed to you, I believe). I prefer our name, "berenklauw" as it scours your skin as a bear can. Huge blisters are the result.

Those monsters are taller than a tall man and they spread like a plague. Farmers try to get rid of them, but this copse is neglected.

It has a friendly gentle sister, Angelica, which also grows next to the sloot.

And the brown flower is zuring, wild sorrel.

At the end of the Ikkerseweg I took a left again, and passed a meadow with sheep and their lambs. They came running towards me, bleating, thinking I was the farmer with something tasty.

I don't know about you, but I like sheep. And now that I've read The Shepherd's Life I like them even more. A couple of years ago I had the opportunity to clip/shear one, and I'll never forget the total trust it had in me with my power tool, and the feel of the somewhat greasy wool.

Another left onto the Stormweg took me back towards Nieuw-Helvoet. I passed some youngsters, who also took an interest in me and stood there staring and blowing.

Lol, got ya!

Hate those yellow earrings, stupid things!

And that was it. Back home again.

We call this vlasbloem, flax to you.

The nitty-gritty:

I walked 14.759 steps, which comes to approx. 20 km and is totally wrong - but I did a lot of walking earlier in the day when I tried out an English assignment (with a route in hand)in Brielle. 

I think this hike must have been approx. 6 km, as it took me an hour.

It was a sunny 23 degrees, with a wsw 18 km/h wind and a humidity of 54%. 

I wore the wrong clothes, they started chafing in all the wrong spots. Another lesson learnt.

Hope you've enjoyed hiking with me, until next time!