Thursday 22 July: Take-Off
Covid has seen our travel plans up-ended, with the crisis of the pandemic, shut-downs, border closures, and a feeling of perhaps never travelling again, but then, slowly, slowly, things are creeping back to some form of business-as-not-quite-usual. So I booked a half-and-half Business/Economy return light to Europe to try to avoid infection on my outward journey, and to sample the delights of Qatar Q-Suites Business Class, so in a state of nerves and uncertainty I arrived waaaaay too early at Auckland Airport to start my first toe-in-the-water trip in more than two years....
Well, I am a super-uncool Business Class traveller! It is all such a novelty, I am sampling everything and will be a few sizes larger when they wheel me off! Mimosa? Yes, please! Prawns? Of course…. Settling in to my little sky-cave “Q-Suite” with sliding door and all mod cons. Off on an adventure……
Saturday 24 July: Amsterdam
The fatal flaw in my treat luxury Business Class trip to Amsterdam has been Schiphol Airport.
After a fabulous Qatar flight in a Q-Suite (seriously thinking of living in one permanently), with 8+hours of sleep and solicitous staff plying me with crayfish and vintage champagne, I was feeling pretty good. Relaxed and remarkably rested.
And then……. the realities of Covid-related effects on European airports kicked in. First there was the 35 minutes lurking on the tarmac waiting for a parking place. Then, worse to come, we were disgorged into the Arrivals Hall From Hell …….. hundreds of people, >50% unmasked crammed into slowly snaking lines in a corrugated iron-roofed shed……. An hour and 40 of that- Finally escaping to catch the train into Central Amsterdam, every second train cancelled of course.
But now I am safely in my little “bijou” hotel with precipitous stairs but a lovely proprietor who hauled my case up into the belfry and am ensconced at a canal-side bar, drinking Heineken of course. So I can forget all the ghastliness and let the adventure begin. Rijksmuseum tomorrow!!!!
A place of art pilgrimage of course, so this pilgrim had a lovely walk through the deserted Sunday morning streets (soooo much better than the hot crowded Saturday evening swarms),
past the usual enchanting canal vistas, to pay homage at the Night Watchmen et al.
However, despite the glorious paintings on display, I actually find myself more drawn to the “decorative arts” items of furniture, ceramics and the most fabulous “dolls houses”. Whatever - a feast for the artistic senses everywhere.
Sunday 25 July - Evening: Amsterdam
First of the churches - you are going to get quite a few of these, I am afraid. This is a slightly odd one but rather beautiful. It is a shared church between Syriac Orthodox and Opus Dei (hyper-conservative Catholic), very Byzantine. Service out of a time warp from the 1950s….. but very quiet and peaceful after a summer Sunday of tourist Amsterdam.
Meandering the streets of Amsterdam, the first advice is to get off the “main drag” of Damrak, a heaving zoo of humanity with sights to behold! A few blocks away, delight awaits, with all the lovely canal vistas you could wish for, and marvellous architecture from the grand trading days of past glories. But those ubiquitous bicycles may be a blessing for the environment, but they are also a major threat to life and limb.
Many fancy canal boats, very expensive, apparently.
Church of St Nicholas - interior to follow later.
Monday 26 July: Floriade (Outside Amsterdam)
After a heavy cultural day at the Rijksmuseum, I am off to smell the flowers at Floriade, a giant international garden show. This is my dose of countryside twixt all the churches and museums - a giant horticultural exhibition just outside Amsterdam. It is designed to be an eco-friendly township when the expo is over so is spread out over rather a vast area, somewhat a challenge for my non-tourist-acclimated feet. But all very interesting, though not quite the “English Country Garden” which is my preferred genre. And yet more of an example of the Dutch living below sea level, as only a hundred years ago this area was all water, now drained and dyked…..
Just to prove I am here ........
Garden art from recycled materials.
And another one .....
Creative buildings as well.
Tuesday 27 July: Delft and the Hague. Mauritshuis Museum:
Well, of course, she is why I came! Assorted research projects from my academic days used her, and Breughel’s Netherlandish Proverbs in ways that would bore you silly, but a haunting image, nevertheless. The jewel of the Mauristshuis Museum in The Hague. Incidentally, a Vermeer painting I saw at the Rijksmuseum on Sunday (The Love Letter) had possibly the same earring. So Vermeer was into recycling before it was a thing! .
So my day began in Delft, which is almost part of The Hague, as they run right next to each other. Delft is very pretty and rather like Amsterdam without the crowds - lots of lovely canals and churches, plus of course, Delft-ware and cheese.......
Town square in Delft
And cheese ........
Then off to the Mauritshuis Museum in The Hague on the tram ..........
Interesting gallery side- bars:
1. Several paintings in the Mauritshaus collection had this comment about their provenance. I wonder how many other galleries should also have this.
2. How many modern painters would have the craft to produce such exquisite detail as in these two portraits? (Oops - forgot to get the title and artist - let’s just say “Portraits for a wedding of bigwigs by 16th century master” Note that the bride is noticeably pregnant, a popular thing then, to ensure inheritance of the family wealth...)
3. That Goldfinfch painting is rather underwhelming.
A must-see in Amsterdam, but control your enthusiasm because this is a museum ABOUT Van Gogh, at which it is very good, but of course many of the great Van Gogh works are held elsewhere - actually, not a sunflower in sight here. Nevertheless, lots of lovely Van Gogh-ness to be seen, and much explanation of his life and artistic influences.
One of my favourites - Van Gogh painted these almond blossoms as a wedding gift for his brother.
Very Van Gogh ..........
Last stop before leaving Amsterdam was the beautiful Basilica of St Nicholas. Just beside the train station, fortunately....
And chapel to the Madonna and Child.
Wonderful Stations of the Cross
Beautiful vaulted ceiling above the organ.
So then, onto the train to Brugges .........
Thursday 29 July: Battlefields of Flanders
We shall remember them - this is the message at the myriad WW1 battle sites, cemeteries and memorials that my nephew Tony O'Sullivan and I visited yesterday on a fabulous Quasimodo Tour from Brugge, around the Belgian countryside.
My head is spinning from all the information and insights from our super-knowledgeable guide, Philippe, but also, my heart sinks at the ghastly futility of so much of that WW1 conflict. And yet, if the Germans had not been literally bogged down in the Belgian mud, they would have marched on to France as was their plan to do in six weeks, not four years. The other take-home is the tremendous job done by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission with their upkeep of the cemeteries. Every site is in pristine condition with every grave planted with beautiful flowers and not a weed to be seen - and this after over a hundred years.
The ghastliness of regular and chemical warfare was demonstrated here and horribly, since a third of the millions of all types of shells launched did not explode on impact, they are still emerging from the Belgian soil in explosive condition. Decommissioning them is still a major problem for the Belgian military and results in explosions and accidents as these corroded nasties still wreak their havoc. Mustard gas for example is invisible and clings to fabrics and skin - it used to kill stretcher bearers then medical staff in the rear triage stations as they handled the wounded.
Our evening finished in Ypres at the nightly Menin Gate Last Post ceremony performed by the Ypres Fire Brigade buglers, attended by six flags bearers from UK British Legion units as seven different groups laid a wreath at the memorial, watched by hundreds of visitors. We will remember them indeed…….
Memorial at Tyne Cot, the largest of the war cemeteries, where many thousand names and un-named soldiers lie.
A small section of the beautifully maintained marble headstones.
The names of New Zealand soldiers who died in this are of WW1 fighting - the NZ Government asked that the names be recorded here, out on the battlefield, at Tyne Cot, rather than at the Menin Gate at Ypres town.
Another New Zealand memorial at Polygon Hill.
Many panels of names from provincial regiments such as Canterbury and Otago, plus this one from the Cyclist Battallion - who knew??
That famous poem........
Local WW1 munitions drop-off point for items farmers discover in their fields, later collected by police or army for tricky disposal. There is no easy superficial way of knowing if a shell is explosive or chemical - nasties such as mustard gas, phosphorus or chlorine. Since some explosion craters were several metres deep and have now been filled in, these shells etc will keep working their way to the surface for a few more hundred years. War leaves many nasty legacies……
In front of the Menin Gate with my nephew, Tony O'Sullivan.
The large crowds gathered at the Menin Gate at sunset for the last Post Ceremony - every night since WW1, apart from a break during WW2. Buglers from the local Fire Brigade march here every evening, and assorted Service groups lay wreaths.
The Fire Brigade buglers
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