Two Wintry Days in Den Haag

Den Haag, on the coast south west of Amsterdam in the Netherlands, is the seat of the Dutch Government, the home of the Royal Family, and was until 1806, the capital of the Orange nation.

Boasting stunning architecture, wide tree-lined avenues, sociable town squares, hidden parks, canals, a myriad of restaurants, the UN, and a long sandy beach, it would seem this treasured little city has everything for the discerning visitor. In the winter however, despite all the above boxes being ticked, there is definitely something missing in the cosmopolitan streets of this centre of European activity.

Travelling by train from Amsterdam takes but forty five minutes, and Dutch trains being Dutch, they are on time, fast and ridiculously practical. Two floors of seating means there is none of that British style fuss over someone sitting in “your” allocated seat. The views from the train are quintessentially Dutch too; flat pasture land stretches far into the distance, dissected evenly by deliberately straight and perpendicular irrigation channels. The only breaks in this vista of man-made countryside are clapperboard windmills evoking romantic visions of a historical rural existence in these windswept flat lands. Thoroughly drawn back into the past world of Van Gogh’s romantic idyll one arrives in Den Haag with a comfortable grin and a slight reluctance at being thrust back into modern city life. This reticence is short lived however as the tram into the small centre provides stunning views of The Hague’s most famous building, The Binnenhof. By the time you step off the number 17, you are aware that this is a slower paced metropolis than Amsterdam, and will afford you enjoying city life, at a country pace.

The Binnenhof

Arriving at 9am on a Tuesday I expected to be met with the hustle and bustle of shops opening and people rushing around to their world government, or banking positions in this hub of European business and politics. I was pleasantly disappointed to find that its grand avenues were very quiet. Apparently shops in Den Haag don’t open until eleven at the earliest, and people are far more relaxed about their approach to being “on time”. I could almost feel London city suit types beginning to smoke from the ears with the thought that people didn’t arrive in offices at 5am and not leave until after 10pm at night!

I spent two cold February days in Den Haag. The old city centre has lovely small back streets. Crammed tightly with old book shops and antiques they are reminiscent of J.K. Rowlings magic streets in Harry Potter. I would not have been surprised to find little wizards purchasing their first wands from the multitude of old bearded men and wizened old ladies, marshalling their collection of curios and antique till registers with kindly smiles.

Even the stunning UN complex was at peace. The famous blue flag waved proudly in front of its grand Gothic home, and the World Peace Flame flickered silently outside the gates, while inside I imagined a buzz of activity in this time of huge unrest and difficulty throughout the world.

Wide Streets of Den Haag

The UN Flag

Den Haag is also famous for its beach, Scheveningen. In the summer thousands of Netherlanders flock to the resorts golden sands and seafood cafe’s, marking it as one of Holland’s most loved holiday destinations. This was not the case on a cold February Wednesday however. The sands were golden indeed, and provided a kind of desolate beauty in their emptiness, but the promenade was deserted, with flimsy hand written signs blown over by the strong northerly wind, rusty fairground rides lying empty and lacking in squeals of childish delight, and huge swathes of bike racks missing their bikes. Scheveningen in the summer may be the centre of tourist life, but in the winter the final tram stop at the end of the beach feels a lot like the end of the universe, and its apocalyptic greyness only adds to its beautiful desolation.

Lonely Bike Racks

Scheveningen

Desolate Promenade

The city of Den Haag is pretty and approachable and its beach in winter has an empty attraction. Despite many recommendations to visit in summer I found the wintry promenade beautiful in a lonely contended way and this is how I will fondly remember it. Den Haag’s difference to Amsterdam is the pride of its locals; their trams are red, not blue, their streets are wide, not narrow, and their restaurant seating stays outside, even in winter. Although all the tourist shops I saw paraded postcards of a sun drenched city bedecked in flowers, the February Den Haag I experienced was quietly going about its private life before the tourists of summer arrived. At first its peace and quiet was refreshing, but after a while there was a realisation that everywhere in Den Haag in winter is very very, very quiet. It did have an empty beauty to it, but it missed a sense of atmosphere, a sense of personality warmth. I am charmed enough however to give it a second chance, and will return in the summer to see if the postcard pictures really are true.

Does Social Media Aid Social Action?

Social Media seems to have become the modern “Speakers Corner”,  except with Facebook et al no one makes the effort to come and listen to judgement and opinion, they simply have it imposed upon them by “friends” or “followers”.

I am connected to a number of people through Social Media, (though possibly not after this) who seem to delight in passing judgement on all of society around them. Usually these judgements are accompanied by some link to a media story based around humankind’s ability to inflict itself upon fellow humanity whenever it sees fit, usually at the expense of minority groups/ peoples.

It is clearly very important and I am all for, being made aware of social phenomena and activity throughout the globe, and of our own individual position in world society. This is something social media can be applauded for, never before have so many people been able to so easily gain access to contemporary information on events happening around the world. However, before we simply pass around these photos and stories of events, and “share”  collective "ooh's", "aah's", "isn't that terrible!”, and “isn’t he a bad man” (he probably is); Before we simply mount high horses and judge others from our privileged saddles, let us take a moment to think "what do I actually do to affect positive change" - we can all comment, we can all sit in our computer desk swivel seats and judge... How many of us act? Really.

In tandem with this, the majority of these stories seem to aid whoever reads them in feeling a shared sense of guilt, like they are in cahoots with the “bad guy”. In most scenarios, this is not the case. It is important to remember that no one should feel guilty for their position of privilege (privileged being not starving to death, not that you attended private school), as long as we lucky few are aware of our good fortune, and of our responsibility to not simply turn a blind eye and judge others, but to do something, however little, to positively affect the lives of those who are less lucky than ourselves.

Social media is a great tool for information sharing, but let it be the catalyst for action rather than simple opinion voicing. Let it help us understand our position in society, whatever that position is, and actually “do” what we can, instead of talking about what others should do in our stead. Now, back to my easy chair to read others opinions, and to throw forth my own...

Amsterdam's Frozen Canals - Ice Skating and more...

It is the middle of winter in Amsterdam, and while bicycle and strolling tourist numbers are down during the big freeze, there is another activity drawing people to the city’s famous canals.

Amsterdammers have been ice-skating on their beautiful water-ways ever since they were constructed in their concentric semi-circular fashion.



 

On the way to work











They are serious about it. It’s not fluke. If the temperature drops below -4C for three consecutive nights the authorities take the decision to declare it “skating season”. On the 3^rd February 2012 a large number of canals were closed to boat traffic to enable significant ice to form. Since then locals have been sharpening their blades and gliding and sliding their way along large tracts of Kaizersgracht, Princengracht and Lijnbaansgracht, dreaming of recreating the feats of their four-time gold medal winning ice skater, Sven Kramer.



Heavy Traffic on the Frozen Canals



While many are closed for the ice fanatics, some are not. These are prized by the now profit losing tour boat companies and are kept clear by the port ice-breaker. Even in -7C it appears tourists want a canal boat cruise and the hardy few captains who skipper them do so muttering prayers to the sun Gods. They are the only Amsterdammers who do though. Skating on the canals is a rite of passage to the locals and the winter freeze is anticipated by many across the city. 


Quiet, Calm, and Frozen Lijnbaansgracht



Families in hand-me-down home sharpened skates, couples in matching white boots, and serious singles in long bladed racing attire arrive at the canal side at the first hint from the authorities that skating may start soon. People take it in turns to test the ice, some stamping with feet, some dropping bricks from the height of a bridge. When a canal is deemed safe, the few short evenings that stay cold enough, protecting and forming thicker ice, are filled by the community arriving after school or work and enjoying a past time as important to them as cycling in the summer. It is not uncommon to see a table and chairs brought out onto the ice, or groups of friends simply meeting on the canal for their evening drink, stroll and a chat. As with all things Amsterdam, skating, or sliding without blades, becomes a way of life.



An open canal, kept so by the Ice-Breaker's



This frozen world is a much-loved time by houseboat inhabitants too. For a brief period the canals are free from boat traffic. Calm and quiet descends over the community, broken only by the smoke streams from wood burning stoves, and the laughter of skaters outside on the boat dwellers liquid gardens. It may be the middle of winter here, but unlike Londoners who fear the cold snap, and whinge and moan about the consequences, Amsterdammers use their indomitable spirit to find a way to look forward to it, and to embrace it for all the opportunity it affords them.