Our Hague

Now this makes me nostalgic: a map I started while we were still living in the Hague of all our favorite Haagsche places. It's pretty awesome! I just hope some of these cafes are still in business, nine months later...

View Our Hague in a larger map

Top 10 Den Haag Experiences

For a friend's visit earlier this summer, I compiled a list of our favorite Den Haag experiences.  As we leave The Hague for more American pastures, it seems a fitting adieu to our year of going Dutch*:

1. Classic tourism, Hague-style

By which I mean, an hour in the Mauritshuis (The Hague's world-class museum), followed by a walk around the Binnenhof (the Dutch parliament buildings).

The Binnenhof. Photo Credit: Lyza D. Gardner

2. An afternoon in Delft 

Take the tram, or better yet, ride a bike down to Delft, a condensed version of all that is charming about Dutch towns: canals with narrow streets and white-railed bridges, churches with tilting towers, big squares and little squares and a thriving market on Saturdays. If the weather's nice, have a beer in the Beestenmarkt, a smaller square lined with cafes and full of Dutch people hanging out under leafy trees. No matter what, have a meal at Rossio - our most favorite restaurant in all of the Netherlands.

Beer on the Beestenmarkt

3. Scheveningen in the summer

Dozens of these temporary cafes line the beach during summer.

 The  Hague's beach along the North Sea, Scheveningen is a surprisingly popular destination for German tourists, who like to dig holes in the sand.  (Not only is this in fact a stereotype that Dutch people harbor against Germans, it also appears, based on our limited observations, to be true.) The most fun aspect of the beach scene - even more fun than watching Germans dig holes - is the seasonal bars and cafes that pop up along the sand during the summer months.  These are neither permanent structures nor make-shift encampments, but full-on restaurants with stylish outdoor lounge seating that magically appear sometime in May and then magically disappear - entirely - sometime in September.  You have to see it to believe it.

Feeling peaceful yet?

4. A tour of the Peace Palace

Andrew Carnegie's gift to the world, the Vredespalais is stunning on the outside and full of equally stunning treasures on the inside, presents from grateful countries around the world. The Palace is the seat of the UN's court, the International Court of Justice, which peacefully resolves border disputes, fishery fights, and other heated arguments between countries.  We take it for granted these days, but it if weren't for the ICJ, countries would still be going to war every year over the shifting courses of river boundaries and over-depletion of cod stocks.  Unfortunately, the Peace Palace is largely closed to the public, but if you plan in advance (or know someone who knows someone), you can schedule a tour.

5. Biking in the Wassenaar dunes

This activity combines two ultimate Dutch experiences: bikes and the sea.  An awesome bike path leads north from Scheveningen; at the top of the tallest dunes, you can look back at The Hague in the hazy distance.

(Already missing our Dutch bikes...)

6. Coffee at Zebedeus and/or ice cream at Florencia 

Florencia is an institution in The Hague, serving cheap coffee and cheaper ice cream to pensioners, motorcycle gangs, children, and everyone in between for something like 40 years.  It has the interior decoration of a smoke-filled Italian cafeteria from the 1980s, but any aesthetic doubts are quickly soothed by the 70-cent icecream cones. Based on a significant sample set ;-), I can strongly recommend the caneel (cinnamon), gember (ginger) and stroopwafel.  

Hanging out like Dutch pensioners at Florencia. 
Photo Credit: Lyza D. Gardner

As for their coffee, you're much better off going down the street to Zebedeus, which serves - we have officially concluded - the best coffee in town. Plus it's built into the side of The Hague's Grote Kerk (literally, "Big Church"), which is kind of cool. Zebedeus also has very good food - indeed, it's my favorite restaurant in The Hague.

7. Beer in the Grote Markt 

Particularly recommended for a sunny afternoon, when the square is packed with people sunning themselves.  We are particularly fond of De Zwarte Ruiter, which has an atmospheric interior for those colder, darker days of winter.

At the height of summer, the tables are twice as thick. 
Photo Credit: Lyza D. Gardner

8. An off-beat museum

If you've made it this far down the list, it's probably time for some more cultural amusements. Among The Hague's more unusual museums, I particularly like the Panorama Mesdag and the Museum Meermanno (a.k.a., the Museum of the Book). (I've previously described both here.) 

9. Shopping at the Turkish Market 

A massive open-air market that runs Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, De Haagse Markt (it's actual name) is what we call "a slice of life."  (See also my brief description here.)

10. Lunch or dinner at Simonis

Hit up the main branch of this local institution, amongst the unromantic docks of the Scheveningen port, for the freshest seafood in a no-frills setting and at surprisingly reasonable prices.  (The Dutch like a good value.)  In fact, their raw herring is so good, I had to revise my initial opinion of that ultimate Dutch delicacy.

Photo Credit: Lyza D. Gardner

 * Yes, Dutch couples really do split the bill on dates.

Looking for more Hague ideas? Check out my map of all our favorite places: Our Hague.

What America Does Better

OK, so the Dutch might have figured out (in order of importance) bicycling, canals, work-life balance, public transportation, international law, windows, thrift and towel warmers. I love the Dutch, and the rest of Europe is pretty awesome, too - but after a full year here, I miss mightily those things that, frankly, the U.S. just does better:

• Handicap Access: London tube system, I'm looking at you. But it's a near-universal problem. God bless the Americans with Disabilities Act.
• Asian (and Mexican) food: Not a good sign when tacos cost north of 15 euros. And never trust an all-you-can-eat sushi buffet in a region best known for its raw herring and mayonnaise.
• Target and Trader Joes: Our four-year-old guest last November, who otherwise loved Holland and Paris, was confounded by the idea of life without Target. As am I.
• Popular entertainment: No one here disputes the U.S. superiority in this particular category. But the love of American pop culture renders the constant criticism of American politics somewhat ironic. (Yes, now that you've used your beloved iPhone to tell everyone on Facebook how America should be doing more for the world, please enjoy your evening of McDonalds and Mad Men.)
• Drip coffee: For whatever reason, it's just not appreciated here. 
• Tolerance: I've mentioned Geert Wilders before, but one need only note the reactions of politicos around Europe in the aftermath of the Oslo shooting to understand how unprepared Europe still is for a truly heterogeneous society. At least in the U.S., we pride ourselves on being a melting pot, even if we're still trying to figure it out.
• Cocktails: Yes, the beer and wine are great, but sometimes you just want a kickass Sidecar.
• Netflix and Amazon: Actually, given Netflix's recent downfall, I'm re-considering our move back to the States. Drat you, Reed Hastings!

This game can also be played with "What America Gave the World."  As friend Megan wrote in a postcard last summer: "Just remember: we invented the Internet, French fries and cars. Fuck yeah." To this we could add jazz, cowboys, the personal computer, the Declaration of Independence, hip hop, Tex-Mex, the Marshall Plan, the lightbulb, and Michael Jackson. As Jeff likes to say, "You're Welcome."

Utrecht Journal: Learning to Travel Solo

This is a story about making myself proud.  

I was convinced, after pathetic days spent alone in London and Amsterdam pre-law school, that I do not travel well by myself.  This has cramped my traveling style in the years since, and also made me feel bad about myself.  But after the partial success of my Morocco challenges, I decided it was time to try again.  My self-imposed challenge: a day-trip to Utrecht, solo.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

8:58 a.m., Utrecht Central Station: Half-hour train ride passed too quickly in whirl of anxiety, both general and specific.  Stumbling onto train platform amidst flow of passengers, uncertain what to do first - go straight to the museum? Find a cafe for second breakfast?  On escalator up to the station hall, notice the lights above create a cool effect in the escalator shaft. Hesitate as escalator comes to an end.  Step back onto down-escalator while digging camera from backpack.  Spend 10 minutes riding escalator back and forth, taking pointless pictures of the light.

Note the yellow train, which I heart.

9:22 a.m., Utrecht Central Station (still): Pointless escalator picture-taking is oddly liberating.  Understand that I should head straight to the city center to find an atmospheric cafe full of university students.  Thinking what I really want is a "misto" at the Starbucks in the unremarkable train station.  Realize the power of choice is entirely in my hands.  

Gardner's Guide to Groningen

I realize that many of our most memorable experiences traveling around the Netherlands and Europe have not made it into my posts because they are, individually, not that interesting. Take, for instance, the one night and subsequent morning we spent in the northern Dutch town of Groningen during our Friesland adventures: nothing singular happened that merits writing home about, yet we liked the town very much and have great memories of exploring its compact center.  To illustrate our more typical travels, then, I've compiled a map of our several little discoveries that, taken together, made our brief time in Groningen so memorable: 


View Guide to Groningen in a larger map

To the North, Part II

Other than seeing the Wadden Sea, the primary mission of my self-directed northern adventure was to visit the rest of the Netherlands' World Heritage sites.  All five (including the Wadden Sea) are variations on the same theme: how the Dutch fought the Sea.  The five sites were, collectively, rather anti-climatic.  (Spoiler alert: the Dutch won.)

But in the right order, they do tell the arch of the defining Dutch story.  It goes something like this:

In the beginning, there was land, and there was Sea.  And then the Sea breached the land, and the land was flooded.  This was understandably frustrating to the people who thought they lived there.  (The Wadden Sea will remain permanently stuck in this stage of the story, now that it is protected as a World Heritage site.  But no one really wants to live that far north anyway.)

At first the people tried to fight the Sea by building their houses and churches on terps (mounds of earth) and constructing sea walls and sand bars.   This was not very successful. Eventually the ingenuous Dutch realized they could use windmills to pump water up and out of low-lying land.

Thus the polders were born: land drained and kept dry by orderly systems of dikes and windmills.  The very first, Beemster Polder, was drained in 1612 (!!!), and was designated a World Heritage site a mere 387 years later.  But it is a particularly difficult site to visit because - other than the pretty lines of trees and tidy grid of roads and canals - there's not really any there there.  It's like the Greenwich, CT of Amsterdam.  (This stage in the battle between the Dutch and the Sea is much better represented by Kinderdijk.)

Although great for postcards and Dutch branding, the windmills alone were not enough. Terrible floods racked the lower Delta region of the country, while the large bay of the Zuiderzee (the "Southern Sea" that in fact lay north of Amsterdam) stubbornly ate away at the interior of the country.  In the mid-1800s, the government forced the evacuation of one large island in the Zuiderzee, Schokland, having grown tired of funding the fight for such a lost cause.

Biking along the Edge of the World

Sometimes you need to go someplace just because it's there - because that black hole sitting on the edge of your mental geography goads you and it's within your power to extend the boundaries of your known universe by some small increments.  At least, that's how I felt as a fat ten-year-old trying to bike up unexplored blocks in the 'hood that were inconveniently pitched at 45-degree inclines.

That's also how I felt about the north of the Netherlands - the upper half of the country above Amsterdam which no one else seems curious about. But it's there.

It's also different.  Friesland, the northwestern province of the country, has its own language that is entirely distinct from Dutch. Indeed, Dutch was not the official language of the Netherlands until 1993.  (They might as well have skipped over Dutch entirely and gone straight to English, but that's a different essay.)  In between Amsterdam and Friesland are vast tracts of land - entire provinces - that were under water 100 years ago.  And to accentuate the far distance you can travel in an hour's drive north of Amsterdam, Frisia is replete with funny looking little ponies, so miniature that they turned a grown man (Jeff) into a cooing eight-year-old girl.

Cooooo.

It's good to remind yourself of the power you wield over your own life as a fully independent adult. I wield this power sometimes when I skip the oatmeal Jeff dutifully makes for me in the morning in lieu of a pain au chocolat at my office canteen.  Or when I start watching the movie that comes on TV at 11 pm even though it's a school night and I'm already up past my bedtime.  Similarly, I decided I really needed to see the north of the Netherlands.  So in August I rented a car and dragged Jeff along on an entirely selfish two-day northern adventure.

It did not blow me away; it was different from the rest of the Netherlands, but only as different as, say, North Carolina is from South Carolina.  But our ultimate destination did move me greatly: it felt like we were biking along the edge of the world.

Touring the Netherlands: The Golden Oldies

We've hit peak tourist season in the Netherlands (late spring is an excellent time to travel here), and Jeff and I are just racking up the Dutch Golden Oldies. Keeping in mind that I live a G-rated life, what do you think of when I say "Holland"? Yup, we've pretty much done it.

Exhibit 1: Tulips

For about three weeks at the end of April, the fields from Leiden to Amsterdam were strips of bright color, so fragrant you could smell them through train windows (especially the hyacinths). Along the roadsides, impotent field owners' signs pleaded unsuccessfully with the hordes of tourists, "PLEASE Do Not Walk in the Flower Beds."

Sixty years ago, the mayor of a small town and the major bulb exporters in the region had the brilliant idea of distilling the beauty of the bulb fields into a major garden exposition: draw tourists, market products, spread a little flower love. Thus the Keukenhof was born.

Some Thoughts on Liberation Day...

I just happened to be reading a law review article today about Heinrich Boere, a Dutch Nazi sympathizer who carried out retaliation killings on behalf of the occupation forces -- that is, he covertly assassinated innocent Dutch civilians in retaliation for attacks by the resistance movement.

The idea is haunting (though I understand from the article it was not that unusual during WWII): After an attack by the resistance, the word would come down that a certain number of reprisal killings were required. But the local authority would have to decide who, and usually did so randomly. From the article:

For every victim of the resistance movement up to three Dutch citizens were to be shot.... Assassinations were performed either in the early morning or late in the evening. SD officers would usually accompany the assassins. These were disguised in civilian clothes, equipped with false identity cards and drove cars with false number plates. They called on their victims at home. If they did not encounter the victim, the assassination was abandoned and the killers proceeded to the next address on the list. If they encountered the victim, they would verify the victims' identity, shoot at point blank range and disappear.

Queen Beatrix kicks Kate Middleton's a**: Queen's Day 2011

Jeff and I knew we would like it here when we learned that the Dutch celebrate both of our birthdays with national holidays. But while I get stuck with St. Discrimination-klaus, Jeff gets street parties, music festivals, fun fairs, public drinking, party boats, and an entrepreneurial free-for-all.

One of the great mysteries of life is why no one seems to know about Queen's Day outside of the Netherlands: This should rank up there with Munich's Oktoberfest or St. Patrick's Day in Dublin.

First, you have to love a Queen who sacrificed a celebration of her actual birthday -- which inconveniently occurs on January 31 -- to continue the annual celebration of her mother's birthday, a much more pleasant April 30.

Recipe Week #2: When in Holland...

Last winter, I had the bright idea that we should learn how to cook like the Dutch cook, just so we could make use of all that kale and rootworst and cabbage and endives we were seeing in the store. This lasted for about two meals, after which Jeff and I decided there was a reason why (1) the Dutch have a growing obesity problem and (2) most of the restaurants around town are Italian and Indonesian.

But during my short-lived enthusiasm for learning Dutch "cuisine", I did find a few helpful websites with collections of traditional recipes. Of the handful of recipes we tried, we actually really liked a couple of them - we just decided they were a little too heavy for everyday use.

Prei stamppot met rookworst

This dish combines almost all the favorite Dutch food groups: smoked sausage, leeks, mashed potatoes, and cheese. It's also an example of the standard "stamppot" approach to Dutch cooking (that vegetables always taste better when mixed into mashed potatoes). I presume there is a significant ethnographic link between Dutch dishes like this and the casseroles of the American Midwest.

Rode kool op z'n Twents

Who says cabbage can't be bad for you? Note that the "bacon" used by the Dutch is the thick slab kind that you cut into cubes (but regular American bacon should work fine). I would cut back significantly on the amount of jam the recipe calls for; otherwise, this dish can taste like candy.

You'll notice these recipes - like most of the recipes we encounter over here - measure amounts not by volume but by weight. At first this caused us some consternation, but then we bought a cheap kitchen scale at Ikea, and Jeff now swears by the greater precision that comes from weighing ingredients.

The Blue Envelope of Death

In honor of U.S. Tax Day:

As not-quite-a-staff member of my international organization, I fall into a sort of diplomatic limbo: I am allowed to live in the Netherlands, but otherwise I have no diplomatic privileges. You might be asking, who needs diplomatic privileges? Trust me, it helps.

Our first limbo-challenge was the realization that I had no status to sponsor Jeff's stay in the Netherlands. I felt impotent. Thus began our mad scramble to find any plausible grounds for Jeff to obtain a visa independently - and our full introduction to the logistical wrangling of expat life.

Everything as a non-diplomatic expat is a battle: opening a bank account (you have to register with the city first), registering with the city (the registration couldn't be finalized until Jeff submitted his residency application), submitting a residency application (which in Jeff's case required a bank account). Do you buy international health insurance or local health insurance? What's your back-up plan when they reject you for a seemingly minor pre-existing condition? 

And then there's the question of taxes. A staff member at my work would be exempt from Dutch taxes, and her salary would be grossed up to cover any U.S. taxes she could not otherwise get out of paying. Sweet! 

As for me: too bad, so sad. 

Sure, a delightful thing called the Foreign Earned Income Tax Exclusion allows me to avoid most federal and state taxes, but I still have to pay for Social Security and Medicare. Meanwhile, my colleagues assured me that I didn't have to worry about Dutch taxes unless the Dutch authorities (the Belastingdienst) came knocking on my door - which they do by sending you a letter in a bright bluish-purple envelope. No colorful envelope, no Dutch taxes.

This reassured me for about a month, until one day I came home to the blue envelope of death.

It could be worse. Actually, as it turns out, it could have been much worse. First, the Dutch tax authority prepared my return for me, in about 10 minutes. I cannot imagine typing the Dutch equivalent of a 1040 Form and accompanying instruction booklet into Google translate. Second, it turned out I make so little - even when entered as Euros (and have you seen the exchange rate lately??) - that I didn't owe any Dutch taxes after all. Sweet - or sad?

Still, we're stuck paying the city trash tax and the water pollution tax, which are not cheap, and I am sure other fees are lurking right around the corner. Thank god we have no children, cars, or pets (because there is a dog tax).

Dag, Strippenkaart!

(This post was originally intended to be published February 3.)

Don't get me started.

The Dutch like to make things complicated, in the name of efficiency. They devised many years ago the strippenkaart, an ingenious system to standardize payment for public transit throughout the country - but which proved to be, at the same time, both impossible to decipher and easy to cheat.

Since before our arrival last fall, the Dutch have been slowly easing the strippenkaart out, to be replaced with a nation-wide stored-value card (like the Charlie card in Boston, or the SmartTrip card in DC). But unlike the Charlie and SmartTrip cards, the people who designed the OV Chipkaart wanted it all: something that would work on all public transit throughout the country, but that would also charge you per kilometer. Thus you have to tap your OV Chipkaart whenever you get on or off a bus or tram. If you mess up, your punishment is a 4 euro charge. If the machine messes up, your punishment is a 4 euro charge. One of these two scenarios happens surprisingly often.

Take me as an example. Granted, I am not Dutch, nor do I speak Dutch. But I am an intelligent, educated, and careful person who has successfully used stored-value cards in myriad metropolitan transit systems. (Update: On a recent trip to London, my use of the Oyster card was flawless.) I would venture to say that the problem is not me. But in a two-day period last November, between the REM subway in Rotterdam and the HTM trams in Den Haag, Jeff and I managed to lose 16 euros. Now this is where the exasperating part comes in.

Whatever the cause of an OV Chipkaart mess-up, if you want your money back, you have to apply for it. I have now long surpassed the time-for-money value ratio for our 16 euros, but it's become a matter of principle. With HTM, it took standing in line, 30 minutes with a Dutch form and six weeks for them to refund 3.30 euros out of the 4 euros they owed me. (And for the record, that was a clear machine mess up.)

For Rotterdam - oh, Rotterdam - I waited in two separate lines, spent more than 30 minutes deciphering a Dutch web form, then waited two months to no avail. When I finally made it back to Rotterdam in person, a nice lady explained that of course I couldn't use the online application form (don't ask me why) and gave me paper applications - which she partially filled out for me - that I submitted the very next day. Four weeks later, still nothing.

I also don't understand how tourists are supposed to use public transportation anymore, since (1) the stored-value cards cost 7.50 euros (yes, please let me pay you for the privilege of having you take my money and refuse to give it back), and (2) if you ever do succeed in convincing them to give you your money back, they will only refund it to a Dutch bank account.

I am so scarred by this experience that I have not used my OV chipkaart for three months. I have gotten by by reverting to the good ol' reliable strippenkaart. But the strippenkaart was phased out of the Hague area on February 3. (Why February 3, a Thursday? I don't know, and I also don't know why they ended up extending the deadline anyway. What can I say, it's Dutch.)

Oh, strippenkaart - how I will miss you. For now, I will have to await the popular uprising against the OV-chipkaart.

***

Update: On March 30 - 144 days after our fateful visit to Rotterdam last November (but who's counting) - the Rotterdam metro refunded 9.66 of the wrongly deducted 12 euros to our bank account. Whatever, I'll take even partial victory at this point.

I celebrated by promptly forgetting to "check out" the next time I took the tram - at the cost of another 4 euros. Sigh.