There are days when you are reminded that Amsterdam sits below sea level and today is one of them. That’s not to say that the city is literally underwater but it is so shrouded in damp and dankness that we may as well be a few feet under the North Sea that lurks, a grey and grumpy beast, just a few miles to the west, barely tamed by dunes and dykes. I used to swim in the North Sea as a child, on its western edge in Essex, and it has always struck me as grim and inhospitable. …
My daughter Tessa is in town for a long weekend visit to celebrate her 24th birthday, along with her BOYFRIEND James. They’re staying in the spare room, door firmly shut and me wondering whether I should have bought some earplugs. So far though all has been quiet though, thank heavens.
It’s hard for someone like me with control-freak genes to let them wander the city and see what they want to see. I’m too easily inclined to say “go there, avoid that!”, though I have made my opinions clear on some things; for instance that anything with Madame Tussauds on it will be utter tripe and a waste of euros.…
There’s quite a lot of doom-and-gloom at the Netherlands Opera thanks entirely to the massive cuts they are about to suffer. Fees are being slashed and the word is that if you’re not singing a major role then your only hope of working here is if you already live in Holland and are prepared to work for a pittance. So, a bit like England then.…
Well obviously, after so long an absence from the blogosphere, the very first things I want to blog about are bogs. No, I didn’t misspell that. Bogs.
Loos. Lavatories.
There’s something that has puzzled me for some time and after a couple of pints in the opera’s local boozer, the Blaubrug, and a couple of visits to the smallest room, I felt compelled to bring it up. So I asked Clive, our Claggart: “these loos with two flush buttons, which do you reckon you’re supposed to press? Is it small button for small flush or big button for big flush?”…