Valerie Poore's Blog, page 14

Sitting on the bank of the canal

This week hasn't generated much in the way of new news. It's been situation ongoing here in the flatlands; in other words, preparing for the Vereeniging's big move from Rotterdam and painting the Hennie H. 
I know there are only so many photos of the two barges in their usual spots I can show you without being tedious. It would be a bit like trying to post photos of my cat sleeping in the same position every week, wouldn't it? Not that I share my life with a feline friend–not yet, anyway, but you know what I mean. Suffice to say, both barges look marginally better each week, which is more than can be said for the cat...if I had one.
I had a brief eruption this weekend when a neighbour who shall remain nameless decided to use an angle grinder right next to my newly painted deck and deposited swarf (a new word for me) all over it, but that's about the only blip in an otherwise flatlining week. I will admit that my language became quite colourful when I discovered the damage (the result of the blip), a rare descent into extreme vernacular for me, but I think I got my message across. I told said neighbour I would forgive him, but it would take me a week or so.  
And for anyone who's wondering, Koos is doing well following his op. His first checkup confirmed his control panel (pacemaker) was working fine.
Anyway, given the dearth of fresh news, I thought I'd share these photos with you. I was sitting on the bank of the Gent-Terneuzen Canal last week watching the water traffic while waiting for the bridge. It was open to allow the tug boat in the photo below to pass through as well as the big tanker beneath. 

A man stopped to chat to me and seemed surprised that I loved watching the 'big boys' going by. I explained we had a boat in the harbour and that this was my world. He nodded and smiled; I think he understood. We carried on chatting for a while and he told me that on the 24th of December, the biggest freighter in the world would be passing Terneuzen on the Westerschelde on its way to Antwerp for repairs. It's 400 metres long, 70 metres wide and 17 metres deep. Just think about that for a moment. He suggested I might like to see it...would I ever? The date is noted in my diary with brighter colours than Christmas.

Meanwhile, on a slightly smaller scale, the photos below are a random collection of shipping moments I've captured at various times. Four of them are on the Gent-Terneuzen Canal, but the others are elsewhere, and perhaps they give you a glimpse into and an idea of what I love to see.

I would never be permanently content with waterways that only cater for pleasure craft. This commercial traffic has the vibrancy of real life and I revel in it. Maybe you can see why.

Gent-Terneuzen Canal
At Sas van Gent
A tug heading out into the Westerschelde at Terneuzen
A tanker on the Gent-Terneuzen Canal
Professional craft at Terneuzen
A container barge on the Juliana Canal in Limburg
One of the regulars on the Gent-Terneuzen Canal, this time from
the Hennie H.
 Have a lovely week allemaal and I hope I'll have more to say about our progress next time.

The yoyo effect

This week's blog is a reflection of our yoyo life at the moment. As I mentioned last time, we are moving the Vereeniging to a new mooring sometime in the next few weeks. The actual departure date depends on a number of things: weather – we don't do foul weather faring; tide – we want to leave at the beginning of the flood tide, which involves the next thing; time – the exact hour we're able to depart is important in order to reach halfway at least before dark. The last and most vital determiner is health – Koos has just had his pacemaker fitted and isn't supposed to exert himself too much for a few weeks; he needs to follow doctor's orders (some hope of that!) and if that means a delay, then so be it. My contract begins on the 1st of October, but we will wait until all these factors align before we make the move, either before or after that date.
Our destination is a town called Oudensbosch, and the arrows on this map are roughly the route we'll be taking:

Oudenbosch is situated on a branch off the river Mark, and because of its location, we cannot reach it without some deviation. The route we've decided to take towards the east first is, I admit, a bit circuitous, but it take us through slightly narrower channels than if we were to go west. Not being a fan of the wide waters (in other words, I'm a wimp), this way was my choice.
After twenty years in Rotterdam, the move is a major one for us and I am (as you might imagine) both excited and nervous. It's been a very long time since my Vereeniging did such a long two-day journey, but we hope she'll be happy in her new home next to a grassy dike and without tides and moving neighbours to contend with – which brings me back to our yoyo life. 
I've been busy trying to get her ready to make a good first impression, so during our weekly treks up to Rotterdam, I've managed to paint her decks, the cabin and engine room roofs and the rubbing rail, not to mention what we call the potdeksel the name of which I haven't been able to discover in English, but it's the rim that runs along the top of the hull all round the barge.

She's looking quite smart now, so let's hope we don't have a lot of dirty rain to mess it all up before we leave! I've also bought a new tarpaulin, which I'll probably put on next week. It's quite a job as holes have to be cut in it for the roof light and the chimney, as well as cutting the piece above the entrance hatch. 
There's still so much to prepare for, my mind's in a total tizz and full of thoughts of how much fuel we'll need, what documents we should have, the safety equipment we need and all the peripheral (but still necessary) extras, e.g. food, light, and drinking water. I don't have a bank of batteries or solar panels to provide our own energy, meaning everything has to be camping style for this trip – including the loo.
Back in Hennie H land at the other end of the yoyo, we've had some excitement of a different kind. A few weeks back, there was a report in the regional news that a steel-rotting bacteria had been identified in Zelzate marina just over the border in Belgium and a mere 4.5 kilometres from where we keep the HH. Apparently, the bacteria is so corrosive that it acts 75% faster than normal corrosion and several boats in the marina were seriously affected. We were naturally concerned (for that, read horrified!) but in our harbour, neighbours who had recently been out of the water reported no problems with their hulls. So we held thumbs and all our other digits crossed and waited for updates.
Even so, it wasn't long before the press came round to gauge our reactions to the news, and Koos and I were interviewed for the local newspaper. The headline the next day was a quote from Koos saying how  immensely relieved there'd been no place for us in Zelzate. In fact, we'd hoped to get a mooring there a few years back – a close call indeed.
The photo below was one the photographer took to go with the article. I think it's rather a nice one, despite the gloomy subject. Anyway, we've just heard that the researchers investigating the bacteria have established they can't find it anywhere else on the canal, so we can all relax and uncross our stiff fingers!

I have, of course, been painting on the HH too, while Koos has continued his finishing touches on the engine, but what I'm most pleased about is the progress I've made on cupboard number two; another fire extinguishing hole that has been wholly re-purposed (see post re the first cupboard) :)




I still have to make doors for it, and a shelf or two, but it's coming on well, I think. The first one is already in use....housing still more tools! One day, I hope it will hold books and other nice things, but for the moment, drills, screws and other bits are the order of the day.
And just to finish off, and for no reason at all other than it made me smile, here is a photo of a garden shed I saw on my walk the other day. Isn't it sweet? It looks as if it's got a scruffy haircut and I can't help thinking it's been left on purpose given the neat trimming on the lower parts of the shed. 

 Have a good week allemaal and I'll try and keep you updated on our move as and when it happens.

Forty-eight hours in Ghent

 Having proved the Hennie H's riverworthiness (as announced in my last post), we celebrated Koos's hard work and success with a two-day jaunt to Ghent (or Gent, as we spell it in this part of the world). Why only two days? Well, that's a good question, the answer to which is that we had to be back in the Netherlands this last weekend, so it was the best we could hope for. Even so, it more than enough as a first test run, especially as I have a very special affection for Ghent. 

One of the upsides about going in our own boat is that we could keep to our own bubble. But despite the apparent isolation of living, eating and sleeping on the Hennie H, we never felt lonely. The reactions we received from people we passed on the shore and the friendly warmth of the bridge and lock keepers made us feel very welcome. The Hennie H is that sort of boat, it seems. It draws happy smiles from almost everyone we encounter, which of course makes us smile too. You win all and lose none!

We set off on Tuesday after a quick trial run on Monday to make sure everything worked properly. The weather wasn't encouraging at all: grey, cloudy and very windy. The canal was as choppy as a free-flowing river and the Hennie H rolled like a porpoise. Val (green gills) P was not quite so happy with that.

I love the sea canal canal as a rule. The constantly seeking cranes, the dumb barges and the massive container ships give this waterway a vibrant life reminiscent of the London docklands I remember when I was a child. I loved them then and still do.

Still, I was happy to leave the wind and waves for the quieter waters of the canal that connects to the Schelde and Leie rivers in the city. The photos below show most of our progress towards Gentbrugge, where were were hoping to find a mooring.

The only bridge we needed help with on our way into the city
I loved this old crane
Built when industrial buildings were stillinteresting
Tree-lined quays make this a lovely route
Beautiful old river 'furniture'


Entering the heart of Ghent
Several livaboards line the route. I might be just a bit envious!
And finally, at our favourite mooring in Gentbrugge
To our amazement, there was no one else at the mooring at all and although there were groups of people enjoying activities in the adjoining park, we didn't encounter a single other cruiser or even day-trip boat while we were there. It definitely had that feeling of 'summer's over' but it suited us perfectly.
I was particularly chuffed that I hadn't lost all the rope throwing skills I'd worked so hard to acquire. Since it's three years since we've done any serious travelling, I was anxious I might have forgotten everything, but tying up went smoothly– and without any frayed nerves, let alone knots (sorry).
Our evening was spent wandering the quiet streets of Gentbrugge, an area we've come to love for its eclectic mix of buildings and people from all walks and levels of life. All the photos below (except for the last one) were taken on a street that follows an old course of the Schelde river. It seems strange to think this narrow waterway was once a navigable commercial river route. We saw several hefty bollards along the banks which were evidence of its former use, but I suppose that over time the course has silted up and the banks have become overgrown. Our mooring was in a later cutting.




I like this photo of the HH tucked up in here favourite place
We spent a wonderfully peaceful night against the pontoon next to the island that separates the old from the new course of the river. The only sounds were those of traffic on the nearby bridge. Such a constant hum is an unusual backdrop for us, given the raucous nightlife of Rotterdam's Oude Haven, or the rumbling of tractors passing the crumbly cottage at all hours (whoever said the country was quiet?). 
The morning brought sunshine, a welcome sight and an immediate invitation to take another route through Ghent to moor at a different spot for our second night. Sadly, though, the new Scaldis lock, which would have taken us through the city to the Leie, was stuck and we couldn't get through it. 
Scaldis lock...at least we went into it, which was a first for us

As we only learnt this once we were in the lock, Koos had to do some masterful reversing back into the main route. However, we were even more pleased to be invited to go through the Sint Joris lock, which would take us into the heart of old Ghent. Which we did. 
And this diversion, without doubt, became the highlight of our trip.
Tied up in the Sint Joris lock
Exiting the lock in lovely sunshine
Faring forth into the old city.
And yes, we went through that very low bridge behind us 😳😳
But we stopped at this one. Koos accepted that my nerveswouldn't take another one.
So we reversed into this delightful cutting to return
And enjoyed these lovely views on the way back
The Venice of the north. I do love Ghent!
One last scary bridge ...
What a wonderful excursion that was – nail-biting low bridges and all. The only downside was that we couldn't get to the Leie without going a very long way round. So we decided to go back to our happy place (first night's mooring) and spend another night there before heading home the following morning.
Our return journey was uneventful: calmer and with much less wind, but somewhat colder than we'd have liked. All the same, we were incredibly happy with our first adventure out on the waters again. It was magical to feel that sense of freedom again and it bodes well for more extended journeys in the coming months. I must admit I can't wait. 
Enjoy the week, allemaal and fingers crossed for an Indian summer that we can all experience here in the northern hemisphere. For all of you in the south, summer is coming!

The first test run, but not quite a fun run

We finally did it! Our first test run with the new engine on the Hennie H! And it was a resounding success...except perhaps for the weather, which was awful, but then what did we expect? In August. In the Netherlands.
Still, nothing could wipe the grins off our faces as we did our first few kilometres. To be precise, it was 4.6 kilometres in 45 minutes with a maximum speed of 12km/h. Koos has a brilliant app on his phone that records it all so we can really test everything properly. I'm not a fan of apps, but this one gets my stamp of approval.
We'd intended to fare along the canal to Gent, stay overnight and come back tomorrow, but in all honesty, spending three hours in the rain and mist wasn't our idea of a fun run, so tomorrow, weather permitting, we'll try again. With no protection, we are definitely fair weather farers. 
The photos below are just to prove we did it. Really.



 Earlier in the week, though, I was in Rotterdam working on the Vereeniging and I managed to paint some more decks. I do love the steering wheel on my old girl. Its simplicity is its beauty. Don't you agree?

In between jobs, though, I enjoyed watching this very pretty barge going on to the slipway. I can easily waste an hour watching this process and never get tired of it. 

It's the one thing I'll really miss when we move...ooh, did I really say that? Yes, it's true. The Vereeniging is going to a new harbour in October. Finally, after twenty years in Rotterdam.

I know...I've been hinting at it for a while, and fingers crossed, health and weather permitting, it's going to happen, but more on that later. First, though, September is going to be a very busy month, so I'll hold my horses to make sure they're ready to go before I cross that bridge. Or that river, to be more precise.

Have a great week, allemaal and if you're having sunshine wherever you are, please would you send some over here?

All decked out

 This summer, if I can even call it that, has possibly been the wettest, coolest and least helpful to a boat owner such as myself that I can remember in all the years I've lived in the Netherlands. I keep reading reports about July having been the hottest on record. Well, it may have been in some parts of the world, but definitely not here. In fact, as I see it, summer has given us a miss this year.

As a result, work on both the Vereeniging and the Hennie H has been a matter of hurling paint onto whatever surfaces I could prepare quickly between the storms and downpours. And then keeping my fingers firmly crossed that the paint will have time to dry enough before the next deluge.

In between, of course, I've had my 'wholly hole project' (aka my cupboard building exercise—see last week's post) and now I've finished one, I've started on the next one. It makes good wet weather entertainment, that's for sure, and stops me getting cabin fever.

Here's a photo of my new hole.

As for the title of this post, I did, with the sterling help of my wonderful daughter, manage to scrape and paint my Vereeniging's foredeck this last week.

If I say this is always a big job regardless of the weather, you'll understand that to do the whole thing in two days is, for us, nothing short of miraculous. It's also difficult because it is the only access point to the barge, so I did one third of it on the port side on Wednesday. Then my daughter came over early yesterday morning and we did the rest of the washing down, scraping sanding, and painting by 3 o'clock. A marathon effort, after which we were, as I've said, totally decked out. So thanks Jo!! 

Doesn't she look smart?

I have now scooted back to Zeeland and am praying last night's rain hasn't damaged the new paint. It's best if I leave it a few days before walking over it again anyway, so I'll have to contain my impatience until sometime midweek when I'll go back again to inspect the situation.

As for the Hennie H, my hole is really the least of the projects going on there. Koos is doing magnificent things in the engine room and with luck (and maybe a bit of good weather ... please) it will all be ready for the inspector to come back and check it again very soon. The best thing is that we've heard the new engine running, and it sounds great: sweet, rumbly and very much alive.

Keep everything crossed for us allemaal. Who knows? We might get a couple of away days on board yet!

Rotterdam's 'Ferry Harbour' or Veerhaven

In the past few months I've done a few posts about different parts of Rotterdam, so this week I'm taking you to another of the city's historic harbours. This time, it's to the Veerhaven, which translates into English as the Ferry Harbour.

Despite our Oude Haven being the oldest of Rotterdam's inner city harbours, the Veerhaven seems much more fitting as a historic harbour, surrounded as it is by beautiful and stately old buildings that used to house merchant and shipping businesses. It lies on the north side of the river, a little downstream of the famous Erasmus Bridge and Wikipedia tells me that "almost all the buildings around and near the Veerhaven are national monuments." These days, the harbour itself is home to some wonderful old sailing craft, some of which are former North Sea fishing vessels. They have a distinctive 'tub-like' design that is quite similar to old Norwegian fishing boats. 

I really love the collection in the Veerhaven because the boats are so different from our own barges, and it's a real pleasure to walk around the harbour. The photos below are some I took several years ago, so the occupants of the harbour today may have changed, but these will give you an idea of the type of classic craft that are mostly there.

The Veerhaven was named after the ferry service to Katendrecht on the southern bank of the Maas river. Incredibly, the ferry began operating in the 15th century, and was the only means of crossing the river until the Willemsbrug (that big, red bridge in Rotterdam) was built in 1878. However, the ferry continued in service until 1968 under a company delightfully called Heen & Weer (Dutch for 'there and back'!). When the metro added a new means of transport across (or rather under) the river, the ferry was, I suppose, sadly redundant. Nowadays, the Rotterdam water taxi carries passengers from the Veerhaven across to the Hotel New York, so it's nice there's still some kind of public transport by boat over the river.

One of the things I love about the Veerhaven is its floating harbour master's office (see above). It really is a gorgeous building and has quite a history of re-location. Apparently it started life in 1911 as the Rotterdam River Police building in the Parkhaven a few kilometres downstream where there are commercial locks into the canal system leading to Delft. During the war, it fell into disuse and was moved to Zwijndrecht (not far from Dordrecht, and upstream from Rotterdam) where it became someone's home until 1995. It then made its final move when it was sold to the Veerhaven Foundation for the symbolic sum of a single guilder. Clearly someone thought it needed to be placed in a special context and money was not going to play a role.

It's time I took another wander around the Veerhaven, and when I do, I'll take some more photos to add to this post. 

On a more personal front, I've been busy on the Hennie H this week, making a cupboard out of a hole. I'm thinking of dubbing it the 'wholly hole' in recognition of its increased status. The hole in question was made in an emergency several years ago when we had a fire inside during some welding work ...ahem. We've talked for years about doing this, about making the hole useful as a whole (sorry), and at last, I've managed to get round to it. 

Enjoy the rest of your week, allemaal, and I'll show you the finished product and hopefully another new wholly hole (to the right) next time.

A heap of old history

Just recently, I've been checking back through old posts and photos in doing some research for something else and I came across the two photos below. As most of my readers here know, my Vereeniging is a very old barge, built in 1898, and the gentleman who commissioned her was one Roelof Mur. These two photos were both originally on the website of the Mur family, who owned a well-known transport company that began life in 1784. Roelof here was one of a long line of Murs, and his ambitious purchase of two motorised barges (one of which was my Vereeniging) was a turning point for the company whose fleet had previously been horse-drawn.


The photo above is of Vereeniging when she was new, and you can see the skipper, probably Roelof himself, standing at the wheel. I also love the little face that's just visible in the window of the engine room in front of the steering. The Vereeniging was originally called Loenen Amsterdam II. She was what was known as a 'beurtschip' of the pakschuit type, meaning she had a specific route, a bit like a postal service, but for goods, not letters. She travelled regularly along the Vecht river between Amsterdam and Utrecht in the Netherlands, and was only put out of service in the 1960s when the company reached another turning point and switched to trucks.
However, the Murs were not alone in using Pakschuiten. In fact, at one time, they were very commonly seen on the Dutch canals and were to the waterways as Ford Transits are to the roads. I did a bit more digging around on the internet and came up with some other old photos of pakschuiten when they were still in use. I love these old images. They show what my barge would have looked like when it was working, and I particularly like the last one with the woman and her little dog sitting on the hatches.
The Gijsbertha, a barge that is undergoing restoration as I write
Pakschuiten both moored and proceeding along a canal
Pakschuiten (to the right) working on the Vinkeveen, a
lake and island area to the east of the Vecht which these
barges served as part of their regular routes


A pakschuit with two of its side panels out
So there you have it: a little more history about my barge and others like it. Sadly, probably because they were so common and possibly not highly prized, there are very few of them left. The Gijsbertha and another restored pakschuit called Nooitgedacht (Never Thought) are the only other two I know of for certain apart from my Vereeniging. There must be others, but they are now quite rare, so all the more reason for treasuring my old girl. Well, I think so anyway.
Have a good week, allemaal and I'll be back with more current news again soon.

 

The tale of two weeks

Oh dear. It's nearly two weeks since I last wrote my blog and once again the time has flown by. One of the difficulties I face now is that there's been so much going on I hardly know where to begin. I think I'll have to start keeping a diary soon. That'll be a first. Mind you, I'll probably forget to write that as well, knowing me.

I know I can't even begin to talk about the past two weeks without mentioning the horrendous floods in the south-east of the Netherlands and across the borders in Germany and Belgium. Back in March, Koos and I spent a weekend in the affected area. We were at Valkenburg, near Maastricht. I was amazed at how beautiful and hilly it was in the region, as you can read here. While there, we went to the Drielandenpunt where the borders of the Netherlands, Germany and Belgium come together at the top of the Netherlands' highest hill.

Limburg is a long, narrow province, sandwiched between equally undulating parts of Germany and Belgium and Drielandenpunt is the end tip of this sliver of the Netherlands. Added to this, Limburg is the province through which the Meuse / Maas river runs downstream on its way to Rotterdam. It is also where Germany's Roer river merges with the Maas as well. Then there is the river Geul which threads its way through Valkenburg, which lies in its valley. So, a large river valley, high hills to the east and south are just the beginning. Add to that days of torrential rainfall in the region and you have all the ingredients for a flood disaster. I was in Valkenburg again at the end of May (see blog) with my daughter and we had glorious weather then, but with all the hills running down into town, I could easily see how it might be at risk.

As things stand now, the waters have receded and the rains have stopped, but the destruction has been too terrible. Luckily, there has been no loss of life in the Netherlands; that is not true of Germany and Belgium, both of which have serious death tolls and even worse damage. It's heartbreaking and tragic, and my thoughts remain with all those who have lost everything they own in the deluge.

Gloomy skies over Zeeland

Over on our side of the country, we were spared all but a couple of weeks of miserable weather; however, nothing out of the ordinary unless you consider that it's supposed to be summer, although this last week has been lovely. I was half expecting the high waters to reach Rotterdam at some point, but it seems to have been dispersed through the country's impressive water management systems before it reached us. We feel almost unfairly lucky. 

The weather might have been miserable but
the flowers still bloom

In other news, we are still working on the Hennie H and the Vereeniging in the hopes of getting away at some point this summer. An inspection by an expert yesterday revealed we still have some jobs to do for the HH's new engine to be deemed properly installed for insurance and warranty purposes. We shall prevail, though. As things stand, travel is difficult at the moment anyway. We can't go to France without fulfilling all sorts of conditions and maybe Belgium will follow suit. Who knows? The Netherlands is officially Code Red, so we may have to settle for pottering around locally. On the upside, the Vereeniging's engine ran well in its first test this year, as did the new boiler. I can hardly believe it's not leaking and that the installation went so smoothly!

There is more to say and more to tell, but I think it will have to wait until next time. The witching hour is approaching and I am ready to hit the hay. Enjoy your weekend, allemaal, and I'll catch up with the news very soon. In the meantime, here's a photo or two for you all.

Our little Hennie H still fretting to fare
I might have posted this already, but who can spotthe new window I've installed?
The peace of a local creek lake

Rotterdam's forgotten corner

When I drive up to Rotterdam each week, I have to leave my little car some distance from the Oude Haven because I have no parking permit to put it in any of the adjoining streets. The place I usually leave it is in a neighbourhood called De Esch (pronounced 'Ess') near the university, which is something of a forgotten corner of Rotterdam, although I don't suppose the residents would agree. However, it's one of those places at the end of a tram line and it struck me the other day that at De Esch, everything is a little different. 
What makes it special is the mixture of an old harbour, waterside beaches, a wealth of green space, a nature reserve and last but possibly most, a beautiful old water tower. I've been going to De Esch ever since I first moved to Rotterdam. I used to walk there regularly with Sindy (my dog). We loved strolling through the untamed wilderness of the nature reserve where I was aware small creatures lived from the rustling in the undergrowth and hedgerows. It felt as if we were far from the city. We also enjoyed going to the little riverside beach, where I'd throw sticks for her into the water. In those days, few people went to De Esch; we were usually alone and it was, you might say, an undiscovered treasure. I could sit on the sand and watch the huge container barges ploughing up and downstream while Sindy splashed happily in the water. For me, it was a place of peace.


From a historical perspective, De Esch is also interesting. It has the oldest existing water tower in the Netherlands, which is also one of the largest. Built between 1871 and 1873 next to a small harbour, its reservoir held a million litres of water – which is substantial by anyone's standards – and the pipeline ran from the tower to the city.
Designed by one CB van der Tak, it is a meld of different styles, including Romanesque Revival and Neo-Renaissance, if that means anything to you. Whatever the labels, it's a magnificent building and a real landmark. When it was in use as a water tower, the water company workers used to live below the reservoir, but in 1986, the building was renovated and the accommodation was replaced by workshops while the reservoir itself was converted to offices. A very nice restaurant now occupies the ground floor section. 
The photo below is from the 19th century when it was still relatively new and the next one is a recent image. I pinched them both from Wikipedia, so credit goes to their website. I know I have my own photos, but I can't seem to find them anywhere, which is frustrating. Incidentally, the harbour is home to a couple of liveaboard barges, the university rowing club and a floating water taxi pontoon. It's another place I like to go and sit to watch the river traffic go by.

The water tower as it used to look(Thanks to Wikipedia) 

And this is how it looks now(Thanks again to Wikipedia)
Some years ago, Koos and I walked all round the tower and behind it there are a number of rectangular reservoirs, each with its own small pump-house. I don't actually know whether they are contemporary with the tower; they certainly look the same age. I also don't know if they stored the water to be pumped up to the water tower, or whether it was a treatment works. Maybe someone reading this blog will know because I've been unable to find out so far. All the same, they are very charming and it's a fascinating place to wander around. The photo below is also courtesy of an open site on the internet. Unfortunately, the photographer's name was not given.
One of the reservoirs and pump houses. 
The other thing I like about De Esch is that the last stretch of the tram line escapes from the built-up city environs and dives into a lovely green belt that leads to its terminus. This broad expanse of grass, a veritable sward, is lined by apartment buildings, but the amount of space between the tracks and the flats gives an almost rural impression. I once forgot to get off the tram at my stop and had to stay on until almost the end of the line, but I was glad I did it. I'd never have known what a pleasant walk it was back to the university otherwise.
The tram disappears off into the green belt.This is a screen capture from street view
So that's De Esch, an unusual but special place. In fact, I was standing where the van in this last photo is parked when I decided to write a blog about it. Is it really forgotten, though? Maybe not. You'll probably find the nature reserve, the water tower and the beach on a few 'things to do in Rotterdam' sites, but it's so far off the beaten track, mostly only locals know to go there. Being someone who avoids the 'madding crowd', I suppose that's why I like it.
 In case you're wondering, I'll be posting about the latest boat works next week. For now, here's the Vereeniging with a new coat of paint on her starboard side. Wednesday was a good day. It didn't rain for once!

Enjoy the rest of your weekend allemaal.

Sidestepping

Most readers here know that I commute regularly between Rotterdam and the crumbly cottage in the far south of the Netherlands. Now, while I try and vary my route as much as possible, I rarely take sidesteps to explore places off the beaten track, mostly because I'm in a hurry to get from A to B.
It does happen now and then, though, when Koos is with me. Since it's usually him I am hurrying to get home to, the occasions when he travels with me make for a more relaxing ride, and a bit of diversion gives the journey the feeling of a day trip rather than a commute.
Last week was one such occasion, so on the way back from Rotterdam, I mentioned to Koos that I'd never been to Yerseke before. "Well, there's no time like the present," he said, amazing me once again with his knowledge of English expressions.
According to Wikipedia, Yerseke is a "small village on the southern shore of the Oosterschelde estuary" and has a population of 6,695 inhabitants. That doesn't seem very small, but then the Dutch interpretation of cities, towns and villages has always puzzled me.
Essentially, Yerseke is a fishing town and has, predictably, several fish restaurants around its busy harbour area. It also has a row of oyster breeding ponds behind the sea dyke, so these delicacies are a great attraction for those who enjoy eating them. It was grey blustery day, though, so two things prevented us from sampling any of their offerings. The first was the smell of fish, which I can't bear, and the second was the need to sit outside. That said, others were braver and it was good to see the restaurants open again. Koos did go into one restaurant to see if he could buy some kibbeling (small portions of fish in batter) to take away, but they totally ignored him, so he left without ordering. An odd attitude given that they must be desperate to make up for lost custom during the lockdowns.
We had a pleasant walk around the harbour as I hope the photos below will show. However, our general assessment was the most appealing parts of Yerseke are its old dock area and its wonderful, long and unspoilt beach. 
The marina dominates the main tourist spots
But this old dock area with its tidal mudflats is what I
really liked.
Low tide reveals where water exits from (I presume) the oyster
breeding ponds, but I'm not sure of that.
A closer view of the outlet.
Notice the height of the poles on which the pontoons are fixed.
High tides can be very high here, it seems.
This is real
The wide, unspoilt beach
I love the fact there are no huts, kiosks or attractions here.
The only points of colour are the bins!
 Although not a very picturesque place, we found Yerseke pleasant and could understand why it's a popular holiday spot. Koos did eventually find his kibbeling at a fishy takeaway further off the main track. He pronounced it to be the best he'd ever eaten, so that's a great compliment to Yerseke.

Enjoy your weekend allemaal and hopefully the summer will return before my next blog. It seems to have given up trying for the moment.