Beaver shots*

Returning to the quite incredible news that there are beavers in the city of  Gorinchem: 

Beaver photographer Bas Breetveld changed my mind about how a beaver could have reached our town: apparently there is a colony just south of the river - almost under the motorway bridge near Woudrichem - who have two lodges. This most probably indicates  that the Gorinchem beaver (or beavers) made their way eastwards from the Biesbosch along the south side of the big river and then did a Big Swim northwards to reach our over-populated shores. 

Good on ya, beavers!

Bas sounded somewhat surprised in his e-mail: apparently beaver families usually kick their young, recalcitrant offspring out in the summer, giving the 3-year old youngsters the chance to set off and establish their own families in the balmy warm months. Whatever possessed these guys to start chewing on trees in the middle of Gorinchem in February? Perhaps overcrowding: these could be "Tramp Beavers". 

Heaven help us: beavers who just wander around with no sense of community and set up shop wherever it best suits them. What is the world coming to?

One thing's fer sure: these animals are DETERMINED. Read this account of how a North American town tried to get rid of them: 

Dang and blast them beavers!


... and here are Bas's quite breathtaking photos of beavers in the Biesbosch:

Beavers in the Biesbosch.


If you want, you can go on a beaver-safari with him. He guarantees a 100% chance of seeing the little hooligans for yourself. Check it out here:

Beaverwatch.

* shameless effort to generate more blog-traffic

City Beavers

This photo was taken this morning from the Zwaanswal, looking out across a scrubby promontary. At the base of the tree you can see a bright patch of freshly-chewed wood: an almost cartoonesque example of beaver activity. I couldn't believe my eyes. If it wasn't for the fact that this patch of no-man's land is virtually inaccessible for humans (the only way in is completely overgrown with brambles), I would have thought it was a practical joke played by local kids.

But a bit further on I found another poor tree which I could photograph from up close: check out the gnawing technique! See the giant beaver in the background! (Just kidding: that's my dog's bum...)

Beavers have been reintroduced in several locations in the Netherlands over the past few years and one of the most successful populations is happily chewing its way through the Biesbosch, a wetlands nature reserve south-west of us across the river and a good 20 km away. How on earth did this beaver (or beavers - could only one have caused this much damage?) find its way to Gorinchem? At some point it must have swum across the busiest inland water route in Holland, then paddled upstream along the shore, avoiding earth-moving machinery and construction crews who are renovating the dyke and keeping out of the way of dredgers digging a new canal. Then it negotiated the Vluchthaven, ignoring the river traffic in and out of the Grote Merwerde Lock, the screaming metal saws from the industrial park (see previous post) and the boat owners who are just starting to spruce up their sailing yachts and motor sloops for the spring. It chose a spot where it would be in full view of any people out taking a stroll, dog-walkers, their dogs, teenagers sneaking a fag or boys on their cross bikes. If anybody bothered to look, that is.

I was very excited: I reported the sighting of beaver activity on the report-sightings-of-beaver-activity website, but felt I had to share further, so I called up the local council. 

The receptionist was rather put out: "But why do you want to report beavers?" she asked. I was momentarily thrown off-course: why indeed? Because it's pretty bloody cool, actually. Obviously this argument wouldn't carry any weight, so I said "Because they're chopping down trees!" (Local government are obliged to respond to complaints, not cool stuff). Reluctantly, she put me through to a charming lady who thought it was pretty cool, too, although she was already aware of the beaver's presence. Apparently the Waterschap* are keeping an eye on the situation, but they haven't yet seen any evidence of a lodge being built. 

I think it's pretty unlikely that the beaver and friends will set up home here. Apart from the challenging location, there just aren't enough trees for them: on that little strip of land there's probably only a dozen, and they've already destroyed two. Where will they go from here? Further upstream to Vuren? Swim through the lock and head inland? 

Good luck to them, I say. It won't be easy.

Photo from Fotosloep.nl

* Waterschap: Dutch water board.

A quiet port of call

Camping spot on the Punt: note water left and right

 So in Gorinchem there's this sort of camping place for camper-vans at the "Punt" (the "Point"). We see the camper-vans entering the city center, making their way via Tom-tom through the busiest, one-way traffic and totally ignoring the exhortations of the local camper-spot people to take a better route via the easterly entrance to the town.

During the winter months things have obviously been quieter, not just because of the weather, but also because half of the camper-van spots have been occupied by out-of-water boats on the hard. Even though the temperatures are bitter, hardy camper-vanners are back on the road, and today there were 7 of them shrivelling it out there. 

I felt so sorry for them this morning. On-line it looks like a kick-ass location: close to the historic town center but situated on a promontary surrounded by water. The reality at 11 o'clock Saturday was: a container ship was moored next door for repairs (resounding metallic banging from hammering rivets), Mercon was in full swing across the harbour (screaming metal-saws) and the Beastie Eastie was howling through the rigging of the nearby moored sailing boats. 

A restful awakening it most certainly was NOT.

The poor camper-vans are behind the container-ship. Mercon is on the right, on the other side of the harbour and the pleasure-boat harbour with the wind screaming through the rigging is to the left.

Beasty Easty

 ... new meteorological term gleaned from BBC today: a "beasty easty" is a viciously cold easterly wind. 

Despite the apparent temperature, there were signs of oncoming spring on our walk today:

Snowdrops, or should they be "dried-up leaf drops"

We (the dog & I) also found a funny statue, which embodies said dog's stagnation in terms of obedience training:

"Lie down! ..... I said LIE DOWN!!"

And an opportunity not to be missed: details of gorgeous tiles on windows high up above the Langedijk. The only way to see them is from the flat across the road, which hubby is renovating. I'm not sure when they date from, but I find it charming that someone put so much effort into the architectural details which could never have been really appreciated by the man in the street. 

Above Cafe "De Knijp"

Sunny Sunday Buiten de Waterpoort

This was the first day of the year that it got really busy Buiten de Waterpoort (Outside the Watergate). People were out catching some rays, kids & dogs mucking about on the beach and the chip shop did booming business. 

My legs grew in the sunshine!

We met the bike cat

Two new shops

Gorinchem is suffering from the economic crisis: rows of shops display gaping holes, just like an old crone's missing teeth. "For Sale" or "For Rent" signs abound. It is therefore an occasion for celebration that anyone dares take the plunge and embark on a new venture. 

Funnily enough, the two newest entrepreneurs on our street are both of Turkish origin, although they have chosen very different directions: Oguz opened an interior furnishings shop today and Saadet took the plunge a while ago with her hairdressing salon.

Flowers for Oguz

Oguz's "Interieur Huis Gorinchem" has obviously got some serious investment and inventory. The showroom is strikingly minimalist in monochrome with red highlights and hints of silver and gold. After their opening (celebratory turkish drumrolls reverberated throughout the building, accompanied by occidental flute-playing), the shop windows are now filled with the bouquets of flowers that well-wishers brought as gifts. Good thing that they had lots of vases on hand.

Meanwhile, just down the road, Saadet's salon has been up and running for a few months. She's no newcomer to the town: many customers will recognize her from previous establishments where she worked, and are finding their way to her door. 

See the leopard-skin holster?

New hair

With a minimum investment and a maximum of energy, she's created a welcoming, light-filled space that reflects her enthusiastic and jolly personality. All the fittings and furniture were custom-made for her by friends and relatives. As a young mother and primary income-earner, she's a model for female entrepreneurs ..... Go Saadet!

Nearly forgot: today was Valentine's Day. Thanks, Josie, love the multi-media picture.

Give that river some room!

Mayor Piet Ijssels

I discovered these signs on our walk today. They commemorate the floods in 1995, when the dykes near Gorinchem threatened to breach at some points. Everyone in East Gorinchem was evacuated: if you had a three-storey house you could move everything up to the top floor, otherwise the inhabitants had to move their belongings to storage outside the polder. Apparently there was a traffic jam of moving trucks, trailers and rented U-hauls leaving the area. 

An evacuee tells his story

I say apparently because I wasn't here at the time: I was staying at my Dad's in France to help out while he had a cataract   operation. From what I could see on CNN, this part of Holland was already completely underwater. The phone connection was overloaded, so I couldn't verify the extent of the damage. I knew our house would be OK, being on a ridge of higher land, but I imagined the garden full of cows and sheep from the surrounding farms.

In the end the dykes didn't break here and everyone could move back home. But that threat prompted the Dutch government to embark on an ambitious project: "Room for the River". Various spots along the big rivers have been designated for potential, deliberate flooding in case of high water. As these posters say: "never again".

Today the river is pretty high: all that water from Germany! But there's no cause for worry this time.

High water again

Rio it ain't...

During Carnaval, Gorinchem changes its name to "Bliekenstad" (the "bliek" is a fish which used to swim in our river) and the mayor hands over his duties to Prince Carnaval. A parade invades the town centre on the Saturday and for four days oddly-dressed folk walk the streets and take over half of the pubs.

We are at the northenmost reach of the influence of the largely catholic carnaval. It never really took on in the protestant Holland. Southern towns like Maastricht and Breda, well, they really go all-out. Nobody there is expected to turn up for work and it's taken for granted that morals are flaunted and bottles are emptied. 

But whether you're on the outer reaches of carnaval's influence, or slap-bang in the thick of things, one thing is for sure: the old idea that the festival precedes forty days and forty nights of abstinence is long forgotten. 

I remember Pancake Day in England, when we had to use up our eggs, butter, sugar and milk before Lent. And of course the moslims also observe Ramadan. Carnaval just seems to be a watered-down version of a long-forgotten excuse for a party, at least here in Bliekenstad. 

But Josie enjoyed it.

This is all that's left of the flats on the Van Hoornestraat in the Lingewijk ("wijk" in Dutch is the equivalent of the Parisian "quartier").

I wonder what - if anything - will replace them. The current crisis in the Dutch housing market is forcing developers and local government to call a halt to many construction projects. The old town center of Gorinchem has already got two large muddy fields where row houses have been torn down to make way for an ambitious urban plan that fizzled out. 

Perhaps the local kids will be able to kick a football around this summer on green grass instead of tarmac? 

Wet roads

The week began all bright and sunny.
What's for dinner? Go ask Mummy.

Yesterday we had some snow.
What's for dinner? I don't know.

Today is wet and so am I.
What's for dinner? Chicken pie.


Changeable weather here in Holland. While some skating-mad people in Friesland still hold a glimmer of hope for an Elfstedentocht, the rest of us are waiting for spring.