It continues to be cold here. Earlier this week, a temperature of -20.8°C was measured in the town of Ell in Limburg. That’s sub-zero even on the Fahrenheit scale.

Here in the capital, it’s been down to about -9°C at night, usually remaining just under the zero mark during the day. Biking is at once exhilarating and head-numbing. The country has become a skater’s paradise.

As I write this, it’s about -6°C. Cold, but I can at least turn the heating on, unlike those poor people in eastern European countries such as Bulgaria, where the gas has all but run out. Yes, the Russians and Ukrainians are at it again, accusing each other of interfering with the gas supply. I’m glad we live somewhere that imports hardly any Russian gas.

Tomorrow will be another sub-zero day with the forecast predicting that things will slowly start to warm up on Sunday.

Given our recent boiler problems, there isn’t a day that I take the heating in this house for granted. I hope it keeps running for a while yet.

It’s distinctly frigid here. In fact, we’re experiencing the coldest weather in ten years. The temperature in one part of the country got down to -18.3°C last night. That’s colder than Providence, which I think of — some would say unfairly — as the coldest place on Earth.

As I write this, Reykjavík is a full ten degrees warmer than here. Strange, but true.

The rather large pond around the corner on the Sophialaan has frozen over and children have been out there skating for the last couple of days.

Icebreakers are clearing some of the country’s waterways, allowing maritime traffic to continue to move.

300,000 pairs of skates have been sold in the last couple of weeks. Supplies are rapidly selling out. Skate sharpeners are working until after midnight to meet the demand.

The uppermost layer of tarmac on the A6 came loose today, but the MInistry of Traffic and Water can’t repair it until the sub-zero temperatures relent.

Multiple races on the ice have been approved by the skating union and will be ridden over the next couple of days. An Elfstedentocht isn’t quite on the cards just yet, however.

I hope our car will still start. It hasn’t been driven since 20th December. I’ll find out by Saturday.

Eloïse’s playschool was forced to close today, because their boiler had given up the ghost and the building was ice-cold.

Yep, to be sure, it’s cold here.

Since 1st July, the Netherlands has been smoke-free in cafés, pubs and restaurants; blissfully smoke-free. No more smokers!

We left on holiday a couple of days before the ban was introduced and were away for six weeks, so it’s actually only been since this Monday that we’ve been able to go out and experience smoke-free lunch at our favourite places. And what a delightful experience it is.

With the cafés and restaurants now smoke-free, the next areas to target for cleansing are:

1. playgrounds
2. parks
3. café and restaurant patios and terraces
4. the street

In that order, of course.

If other European cities are anything to go by, the café terraces will have been rendered uninhabitable for anyone with a properly functioning olfactory organ. As those who wish to commit a slow, malodorous form of suicide are driven outside, current legislation allows them to take their acrid stench with them.

While we’re on the subject, why don’t smokers regard fag butts as litter? Fag ends now constitute the majority of street litter in some large European cities, yet little if anything is done to either prevent or penalise those who litter the street on account of their filthy habit.

If I sound vehemently anti-smoking, you’re right on the mark. Rigorous anti-smoking laws are one of the few areas where the Americans and the Nazis got it right.

As far as I’m concerned, the only place smokers should be allowed to smoke is inside private residences; and even then, there’s an argument against it if there are children living there.

It’s -5° outside as I write this.

The gossamer webs on the garden gate are coated with a thin layer of frost, which makes them look both beautiful and fake, as if someone were deliberately going for the haunted house look.

The Vondelpark’s ponds are frozen and the trees reach to the skies with their blanched, skeletal limbs. It’s an old-fashioned winter, the like of which we haven’t seen for a few years.

Many flights from Schiphol have been delayed and we have to be up in just four hours to catch ours to the annual Christmas run. I do hope it leaves on time.

Media Markt. Tja.

Het type kabelversterker dat ik zoek: niet voorradig.

De DVD die ik zoek (Love My Way serie 2): niet voorradig.

Het type geheugenkaart dat ik zoek (8Gb microSDHC): niet voorradig. Ook hangen er geen 16Gb CF-kaarten in het rekje en zo eentje heb ik al in maart van dit jaar uit de VS laten overkomen. Zucht.

Alles wat je zoekt is consequent niet bij deze winkel te vinden.

Niet alleen dat, maar de praktische bedrijfsvoering is uitermate slordig. Ik zie bv. ergens borden boven schappen staan met daarop de tekst Notebooktassen en Accessoires. En wat vind je er in die schappen? Juist, DVD’s.

Zo’n zaak waar dit soort slordige praktijken wordt geduld doet je kooplust snel omslaan in minachting en onwilligheid om je zuurverdiende centjes te overhandigen. Die gun je ze gewoon niet; hebben ze zodoende niet verdiend.

Toch liep het niet uit op onvervalste tijdverspilling, want ik kwam uiteindelijk toch weg met een damesscheerapparaat voor Sarah d’r verjaardag (ja hoor, vandaag is ze 34 geworden). Eens te meer verliet ik de zaak morrend, een beetje boos op mezelf dat ik ondanks dergelijke ervaringen toch weer eens was teruggekomen.

Onderweg naar je auto krijg je ook nog een trap na van de parkeerautomaat, die onverbiddelijk geld afdwingt voor je mislukte winkelrit en het gebruik van een verder uitgestorven parkeerterrein.

Ik ben toch niet gek? En toch kom ik ongetwijfeld weer terug. Er zijn gewoon geen goede elektronicazaken in Amsterdam. Het aanbod ontstijgt niet eens het niveau van het Amerikaanse platteland.

Goh, dat lucht op. Bloggen in het Nederlands voor de verandering. Het interesseert toch geen hond buiten de landsgrenzen; als het al iemand binnen de stadsgrenzen interesseert.