15 Years in the Netherlands: England is Like A House I Once Lived In

I piled everything I owned into the back of a borrowed Dutch police trailer and moved across the North Sea to live in a country I knew little about. I left England, my birth country, and started life as an expat. Fifteen years later England is no longer home; it feels like a house I used to live in.  

In the streets outside this house I once lived in I see images from my childhood, of tennis matches played on the road and I hear the laughter that only children caught up in a fantasy world of play can make. I walk in the front door to be flooded with memories.

There's a hallway where we hung our coats and kicked off our shoes, but now I see only unfamiliar footwear and coats that I would never wear.

The kitchen is in the same place it always was but it has been revamped and smells of food I never ate.

The living room, albeit with a different shade on the walls and a new carpet, bears a resemblance to the room we occupied as a young family, gathered around the TV or chatting about our day.

And yes, the bathroom is almost the same, looking just a little grubbier and more worn than it once did, and there are toiletries littered on the shelves that I do not use.

The garden brings back fond memories of English summers, BBQ’s with friends and lazy afternoons on the lawn. However, my parents never planted that row of conifers, and roses blossom where we used to keep patio chairs. The shed we kept our bikes in has gone completely.

I know it is a house I have lived in, it breeds familiarity, but someone came in and redecorated. Somebody rearranged the furniture, planted new shrubs and flowers and erased the little touches that made it my place. I know my way around but it is clear I don’t live there anymore. It's not my home. It's been a long time since it has been my home. 

When we drive through the rolling English countryside I realise I miss hills and a landscape that provides variety. When I am pushing my trolley around the one-stop supermarket, it reinforces my yearning to shop every week surrounded by such choice and variety, surrounded by foodstuffs I grew up with.  When we pass a traditional English pub, tucked back on a country road tempting the passer-by with Sunday roast dinners, I cannot deny happy memories flood back, and the desire to have such a stop-off on my doorstep again is overwhelming.

Yet the overwhelming truth is this, when I am back in England I feel like a visitor. It is no longer my home. People I love live there but I no longer have a base there. When we get into our car and make our way back to Dover to catch the Eurotunnel back over to mainland Europe, or head to Harwich to get the ferry back to Hoek van Holland I know I am heading home.

8 Things the Dutch do Better than the English

I've been here a long time in the Netherlands now and I have learnt that there are some things that the Dutch do well. In fact there are a lot of things the Dutch do well.

Here are eight things that the Dutch could specifically teach the English a thing or two about......

1. How to Celebrate Defeat

The fact that the Dutch actually lost to the Spaniards in the World Cup 2010 final didn't make much of a difference to the after party. It was amazing. For one afternoon, everyone actually forgot that the Dutch football team had not brought the World Cup home. Even the Dutch media stood firmly behind celebrating the Dutch team's defeat. It's something that I am sure would never have happened in England; the media would have slaughtered the English team for losing the final and the English would have used the opportunity to revel in defeat - simply more fodder to moan about.

2. How to do a National Holiday

When the Dutch party on a national scale, the Dutch really party. The King's birthday (formerly the Queen's birthday which wasn't actually her birthday at all) is all the excuse the Dutch need to celebrate. The country turns orange, is adorned with flags and everyone takes to the streets. The English like to pace themselves, celebrating in this fashion perhaps once every 25 years coinciding with a jubilee of the British Queen. There was a knees up was in 1977 and then one in 2012 - I'm guessing there won't be one in 2037...... St. George's day, the national day of England, is still lacking any form of real celebration.

3. How to Tell It Like It is

The dutch don't hold back when it comes to speaking their mind. If they think it, they say it. Known for their bluntness, the Dutch make the English look like stuttering fools in the department of expressing their thoughts.

4. How to Balance Work and Family Life

The Dutch have got work life balance down to a fine art. Not that they are slackers. Not at all. It's just that whilst the English are contemplating life over their second cup of coffee at the breakfast table, the Dutch are already at their desks. And have been for hours. It means they can leave the office earlier and spend time with their families in the late afternoon/ early evening. The English have a long hours work culture - the longest work week in Europe in fact. Guess which nation scores well in every happiness survey going.....

5. How to Greet Strangers

From doctors' and dentists' waiting rooms to elevators, the Dutch don't hesitate to greet the entire waiting room or lift as they come in - loudly and confidently. The English on the other hand are masters of pretending that no other human being exists within a radius of half a kilometre. They put their heads down and stare at their feet. Should any sound pass their lips it is a bumbling mumble.

6. How to Give Flowers

The Dutch do flowers so much better than the English. In fact, the Dutch do flowers better than any other nation. They don't need an excuse or special occasion to adorn their houses with flowers. Dutch men don't need a reason to buy the women in their lives flowers. They are cheap and in abundance (the flowers, not the women). The Dutch have made a tourist industry (as well as an economy) out of flowers.  Many English men, however, still think they need to do something terribly wrong before they give their partners flowers - or wait for a special occasion.

7. How to Take the Work Out of Dinner Parties

When the Dutch host dinner parties they cleverly leave the cooking to their guests by getting the fondue or gourmet out. The English make hard work of making a three course meal they wouldn't attempt under normal circumstances.

8. How to do Post-Natal Care

Supplying a maternity nurse (kraamzorg) for the week after childbirth is part of the course in the Netherlands. It's one of the things I loved most about the birth process. Every mother is entitled to post-natal care that makes other nations green with jealousy. In England you are sent home from the hospital after a few days and left to discover the essentials of baby care for yourself. 

23 Wonderful Things about England and the English

Today is St George's Day and to mark it here are 23 things that are wonderful about England and all those who live within her.

1. English breakfast: the best kind of breakfast there is. Sausages. Bacon. Fried bread. Eggs. Tomatoes. Mushrooms. Yum.
2. Queuing: the English know how to form a good solid queue, and stick to it. None of this free for all nonsense they employ in the rest of Europe.
3. The sights of London: all the usual tourist traps landmarks make London what it is. Think Buckingham Palace, the changing of the guard, Big Ben and Tower Bridge. There's nothing like it.
4. Fish and chips.
5. Gorgeous beaches: whether it's sand, rocks or pebbles you like on a beach or cliffs and coves, England has it along her shores. 
6. And whilst we are on the topic of beaches the English know how to make a real day out of a trip to the beach. 
7. Marmite: England is the birthplace of Marmite, Burton upon Trent to be precise. Love it or hate it? 
8. Bonfire Night
9. Quaint: England is the queen of quaintness, littered with little (and big) places that can only be described as quaint. Like Haworth, Grassington, Clovelly and Stratford upon Avon.
10. Passion for the beautiful game: the English love football. Many people live and breathe the national game, despite there being very little international success on the football pitch since 1966. That's dedication and passion for you.
11. Pubs: English pubs are like no other. In every nation there are attempts to replicate the Englishness of a good English pub but most attempts can be written off as outright failures. 
12.  The royal family: what is there not to love about a real life, albeit involuntary, English soap opera?
13. Regional differences: there are amazing variations in accents, food and customs from county to county across the length and breadth of England. Compare a Cornish accent to the dulcet tones of a Geordie to appreciate what I mean.
14. English people are bonkers.
15. Christmas: The English know how to do Christmas in style.
16. Life is never dull around an Englishman: The English keep you guessing and it keeps you on your toes.
17. Green, rolling hills: oh how I miss green rolling hills.
18. Top Gear: I'll stop right there shall I?
19. Sense of humor: what isn't there to love about sarcasm and self depreciation?
20. A sense of history: you can bathe in history in England - quite literally in Roman Bath, more literary in Jane Austen's Hampshire and deep down in the abandoned mines of Cornwall.
21. Downton Abbey: any country that Downton Abbey is filmed in has to be wonderful, right?
22. Roast dinners.
23. Benedict Cumberbatch.

So there you have it - what would you add?

Happy St George's Day to all you English out there.

Setting the Counter to Zero: A Real Summer Break

Six weeks came and went and the children are now back in school. The summer holidays flew by but we wrung every drop of fun we could out of them before a new school year takes us in its grip.

We spent nearly four weeks in England, most of that in Cornwall. We saw planes, trains and stock cars. We spent time on sandy beaches, time in the countryside and time in stately houses. We witnessed jousting knights, scaled castle walls, collected glimmering shells, played in the rock pools and built dams on the beach. We ate fish and chips, bacons sandwiches, crumpets and enjoyed many an ice cream. The boys added countless words to their English vocabulary list and played with lots of British children. We had a fabulous summer holiday.

Then we had two weeks at home which we kept quiet and low key, particularly after a bad bout of man-flu hit the man of the house and put him in bed for the best part of a week. And today a new school year begins. And we are ready for it. We are refreshed. Ready for the routine. Ready to work again.

I have taken a break from the blog over the summer. In fact, I took a break from all things writing, except for journal entries and one article about school uniforms, or rather the lack of them in my life. Hopefully, none of you noticed as I worked my butt off in July to schedule weekly posts and keep new posts popping up. But it does mean I have a head full of ideas, blog posts and general musings. But all in good time.

One thing that hit me over the head hard this summer was that time is moving at an alarming pace. My eldest has started in group 4 today and with a new teacher and a new classroom my little HSC was a little stressed. In a month or so my youngest will turn three. One more year at home with me before he also starts school. My middle son continues finding his feet in group 1, but this school year in a smaller group than that of the last term of the last school year and hopefully with a little more continuity. In one way or another, they need my support to get through these first few weeks back at school.

Before the summer break I had started putting more time into this blog, taking on more monthly writing commitments and I took pleasure in watching the blog grow. But I plan to take my foot of the accelerator a little. Just a little. I'm a mama first. And I have enjoyed that feeling over the summer holiday. The calmness of no conflicts with my time - beating myself up about whether to spend time with my boys or to slip off and write a blog post. I'm not sure whether you will notice a difference here. Only time will tell. In any case, the summer holiday did us all a power of good. It provided the break we all needed. The counter was set to zero again.

I hope you have all had a great summer break too!

Brits on the Beach

"I don't understand this settlement behaviour," my Dutch husband uttered as we plonked ourselves down on beach towels on Daymer Bay beach in Cornwall, England.

There were couples, groups and families camped out on the overpopulated beach around us armed with fold away chairs with built-in cup holders, light portable tables, tents in every size and colour you could imagine, multi-coloured wind breakers, portable radios, enough reading material to make the nearest library more than a little jealous and large cool boxes brimming with enough to satisfy the most ravenous of hungers for many days should the world's food chain suddenly implode. One group parked on the other side of the beach to us had even brought their own full size BBQ and looked like they had no intention of leaving anytime that summer.

"You don't see this in the Netherlands," he muttered, genuinely bewildered as he looked around the beach.

Anyone beg to differ?

The Cornish Coast Through the Eyes of a Child

During one of our summer holidays to Cornwall, England my Dutch husband was astounded by the English coastline. The Cornish coastline may have been Mars as far as this Dutch man was concerned. The cliffs and rock pools were nothing but an alien landscape to him.

As we stood atop the cliffs at Land's End, the sun beating down on us and a strong coastal breeze whipping the sea up against the rocks, he marvelled at the beauty of the seascape in front of him. The jagged rocks and the sea battled, the salty water forced upwards by the unforgiving hurdles in their path, an impressive sea spray spattering into the air. 

I know that Cornwall's coast is beautiful, don't get me wrong, but I was a little taken aback by the level of my husband's amazement. 

I knew what to expect; I spent many a childhood holiday in south west England. My husband on the other hand had no idea what awaited him at Land's End. He was awestruck by what he saw, mesmerised by nature's offerings at the very tip of England. Watching him was like watching a child in a sweet shop for the first time - bright eyes, excitement, open mouth, noises of delight.

Initially confused by his reaction to Land's End, in my eyes a fairly normal English coastal scene, I asked him what his issue was he found so novel about the cliffs and rocks.

"We don't have cliffs and rocks like this in the Netherlands," he responded matter of factly "we have flat sandy beaches. Think about it, we have to make dunes to protect the country from flooding."

And then the penny dropped. I realised I hadn't seen a cliff or a cluster of rocks for some years myself. Rock pools and cliffs are not a part of Scheveningen or Noordwijk beach.

My childhood holidays along the Cornish and Devonshire coast had blinded me to the astounding magic of the English coastline. I took it all for granted and hadn't stopped to breathe in its beauty: the majestic cliffs, the small and picturesque sandy coves and bays that litter the south of England, the numerous caves to explore and the abundance of wildlife taking shelter on the coast, and of course the magic of rock pools, especially when you are a child.

"This is so cool," said my husband armed with a net and bucket, scurrying across the rocks with two excited boys, "I've never seen a rock pool before!" 

My children echoed his excitement, carrying their own brightly coloured nets and buckets, as they watched a tiny crab scurry from its hiding place under a rock to find cover under slimy, green seaweed. My sons jumped from one rock to the next looking for little pools of water hidden between them. Their delight took me back to my own childhood holidays on Cornish beaches, hours spent combing rock pools with my brother. I understood then my husband's reaction to Land's End. 

How lucky he was to see the Cornish coastline for the first time as if through child's eyes.  

Smitten by Britain: 10 British Things I Have Never Done

My offering for June is over on the fabulous Smitten by Britain website. This time I've put together ten things that I consider to be quite British which I never actually got round to doing or seeing before I left Britain to move to the Netherlands. Of course it doesn't mean I will never get to do them.... they are on my list, well the ones I actually want to do that is. Some British things I really never need to do...

"Before I reached my teenage years I had already had my fair share of house moves, so I got to know quite a few parts of England well. I have holidayed in many places across the British Isles and visited many sights on any serious tourist’s list. The Roman Baths in Bath, museums in London, the Lake District, the lush scenery of Cornwall and Devon, the Blackpool Tower and the beauty of Kent’s countryside are just some of the list that spring to mind. 

I have seen things that are on any sane person’s bucket list. For example, I have seen Evil Knievel perform death defying stunts at Brands Hatch......"

To read the rest head on over to Smitten by Britain: http://www.smittenbybritain.com/10-british-things-i-have-never-done/ 

 

The World Cup 2014 Battle Lines

Is everyone ready for the football World Cup? The battle lines are once more drawn in our house. The orange camp on one side and the white and red on the other. Although in reality the battle lines are much closer together than they once were and during the last World Cup our house was pretty much an exclusively orange affair.

I'm more caught up in the Dutch media frenzy leading up to any major tournament than I am in the English media onslaught. I'm more familiar with the Dutch players than the English. So the battle lines have become hazy. We're a little more united than twelve years ago. My sons and husband will cheer for England - as long as their opponents are not wearing orange.

My only gripe so far is that England's first match kicks off at midnight Dutch time....

I think whatever happens this year we can safely say it won't be a repeat of the drama and tears in our house of the 2010 World Cup Final. My prediction is that neither England nor the Netherlands will get anywhere near the final......and so there will be peace in the van Mulligen household come July 13th when the final will be played.

Are you planning on watching the World Cup? Which team is your money on to reach the final? Which team will you be cheering on?

If you missed it, you can read my post on England's love of the beautiful game over on Smitten by Britain: http://www.smittenbybritain.com/englands-love-for-the-beautiful-game/

10 Reasons My Dutch Family Holidays in Cornwall

For the last two summers, and a Christmas in between, my little family has made the trip from the west of the Netherlands over to the south west tip of England. This year will be our third year. Here are ten reasons why.

Cornwall is eye candy for holiday makers

1. Cornwall is a Beautiful County
Do we need any other reason aside from the fact that Cornwall is arguably the most beautiful county in England? I know, I know, there are lots of beautiful counties in England. But we love Cornwall. It has rugged coastlines, perfect sandy beaches, hidden coves, history and tons of things to do when holidaying with children. In fact, if a recent poll is to be believed Cornwall is the most family friendly place in the .... WORLD!

From zoos, amusement parks, beaches and nature to the Eden Project -
Cornwall has something for everyone

2. Parent's Paradise on Earth
We found a children's paradise where even mama and papa get to chill. This summer will be the third year running staying at Glynn Barton Cottages and it is a place where we feel like we have actually had a holiday too, and for those of you with young children you know that's a huge thing to say. Glynn Barton is nestled in rolling green hills, in rural bliss with the kind of on site entertainment that my three sons talk about all year round: animal feeding and egg collecting each week day morning; nature workshops; indoor games room and a soft play centre; swimming pool; tennis court; table tennis; toddler ride ons; maze and a trampoline. It's the only time of the year my husband actually paints his masterpieces and I love the writing time I get there. And best of all mama and papa have space to relax and sip wine in the evenings with a wonderful view.

Wine and a view - a parent's paradise at Glynn Barton Cottages

3. English Language 
For three weeks my three Dutch boys are fully immersed in the English language. It's an annual crash course for them. The vocabulary they pick up on their Cornish holiday is priceless.

4. British Culinary Adventure
My sons get to explore the British culinary delights that they generally miss out on the rest of the year. I'm talking cream teas, fish and chips, crumpets and cheddar cheese.

5. Socialising British Style
The boys get to play and interact with British boys and girls - playing very typical games out on the lawn.

6. History Lesson English Style
My Dutch family learn about life in Cornwall as it was. Historically, mining was Cornwall's lifeline and the Cornish landscape is littered with remnants of the mining industry. Last year we visited Heartlands which was a fabulous day out - entertaining and educative for all of us! We plan to visit more mining sites this year.

What was it like to go down the Cornish Mines? 

7. Cornish Coastline
The coastline around Cornwall is special. There is something for everyone but what particularly mesmerises my little Dutch family are the rock pools and cliffs. You see neither on the Dutch shoreline.

Boys, beach and rock pools - how much fun do you need?

8. The Little Differences
They sit in a car whilst we drive on the left hand side of the road. They notice when there are two separate taps over the bathroom sink (instead of one mixer tap which is more common in the Netherlands). They handle coins which are unfamiliar to them. They experience the little British differences first hand.

9. Hills
From the car they see rolling green hills, no matter which direction we drive in. The biggest hill they see at home is invariably the speed bumps on the road leading to our house. The difference is huge. They constantly utter 'wow' whilst we are out and about in Cornwall.

10. Nostalgia
As a child I holidayed in Cornwall with my parents and my brother. There is an element of nostalgia to our holidays, at least there was the first year we went. To think I now visit the same part of England with three munchkins of my own is an amazing thought that makes me smile from ear to ear.

Land's End

*This post marks the Family Travel Twitter Party which takes places tomorrow at 8.30pm (NL time). Come on over and join in using the tag #mkbtravel and check out the Travel with Kids Pinterest Board for great ideas on family travel.*

My Reverse Expat Bucket List

Instead of keeping track of all the things I still want to do in life, I loved Erika from America's idea of capturing all the experiences and achievements that she has already been fortunate enough to have.

And as a contra to some of the most recent posts I have written about the tougher aspects of expat life, I thought it would be nice to dwell on all the great things I have done, seen and achieved because of my expat life.

You can read more about how this idea evolved here. But I don't want to just throw my reverse expat bucket list out there - I want to read yours too, hence the idea of a blogging link up. You can find the link up button and a picture you can use at the end of this post.

So here goes. This is my reverse bucket list made possible because I became an expat and moved to the Netherlands.

1. Be a mama to three beautiful Dutch boys
2. Abandon your comfort zone and take a huge risk
3. Expand your world
4. Fit all your worldly possessions into a borrowed police trailer and take it from England to the Netherlands to make a new life
5. Marry a Dutchman
6. Get married at a mill (even if it is water and not wind)
7. Live daily life in a second language
8. Go through the classic culture shock curve and come out smiling
9. Adapt to a new culture
10. Appreciate your British culture
11. Learn what is important in life by watching the Dutch masters of work life balance
12. Have Dutch people speak Dutch back to you when you speak Dutch to them
13. Have three bilingual children
14. Have three dual nationality children
15. Bring three children up in two cultures
16. Visit four countries in one day 
17. Find three ways to travel from the Netherlands to England
18. Take a high speed train to Paris
19. Visit a Christmas market in Germany
20. Drive to Denmark and visit Legoland
21. Drive to Euro Disney
22. Visit Movie World in Germany by car
23. Visit Muiderslot
24. Visit Keukenhof at its most beautiful 
25. See the Dutch flower fields up close and personal
26. Visit the Zaanse Schans
27. View the Netherlands from above in a very, very small plane.
    
    Fly it yourself for seven seconds before you freak out and give the control back to an experienced pilot
28. Have a family photo session outside the Dutch parliament
29. Get back on a bicycle after a twenty year abstention
30. Plan for a home birth
31. Plan to give birth without pain relief
32. Have three children born in a Dutch hospital
33. Welcome kraamzorg in to your home three times and realise just how lucky you are to have postnatal help
34. Own a home abroad
35. Cook a Dutch meal
36. Eat a sweet pancake and call it dinner, not pudding
37. Eat speculoos with abandonment
38. Eat an orange tompouce
39. Eat Indonesian food
40. Renovate an old worker's house in The Hague
41. Understand the terms and conditions of your mortgage written solely in Dutch
42. Watch The Bridge spoken in original language with Dutch subtitles and understand what is going on
43. Watch Borgen in Danish with Dutch subtitles and totally get it
44. Watch a Dutch film and actually laugh at the funny bits
45. Watch a musical in Dutch and sing along - quietly
46. Read a book you are not familiar with in Dutch and be able to follow the plot
47. Listen to Dutch music
48. See Dutch musicians in concert and sing along - quietly
49. Meet inspirational people from all corners of the world, including from countries you barely knew the existence 
50. Love the diversity of culture in your life
51. Make Dutch friends
52. Be brave and quite your job in the corporate world and start a career you are passionate about, one that makes your heart sing 
53. Take a distance learning course in journalism
54. Start a blog about expat life
55. Write expat articles
56. Write for Smitten by Britain
57. Have an idea for a book
58. Interview the first woman to reach the summit of Mount Everest from both the north and south sides
59. Celebrate Queen's Night in The Hague
60. Celebrate Queen's Day in Amsterdam
61. Celebrate Sinterklaas
62. Celebrate new year's eve in the Netherlands
63. See a Chinese New Year celebration in The Hague
64. Celebrate Bonfire Night in Amsterdam
65. See the preparations made for a Nuclear Security Summit
66. Stand two feet away from the Dutch Prime Minister
67. Stand so close to a Dutch Crown Prince you could almost touch him, a risk not worth taking because of the inconspicuous security he has near him
68. See behind the scenes at a Dutch hospital
69. Get whisked away to hospital in a Dutch ambulance
70. Go on natural ice - a frozen pond or canal
71. Hang a birthday calendar in the smallest room of your house instead of writing birthdays out year after year
72. Learn it is better to pay to use a clean toilet than to visit a dirty one for free
73. Use a cheese slicer without losing a finger, or a part thereof
74. Go to a Dutch birthday circle and survive to tell the tale
75. Watch a football tournament with English and Dutch teams in the Amsterdam Arena 
76. See a football team you care about make it to the World Cup Final
77. Help out in a Dutch classroom for a morning and be proud that the children actually know what you are saying to them in Dutch
78. See Bruce Springsteen in concert in Feyenoord's stadium

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<a href="http://lifewithadoublebuggy.blogspot.nl" title="Expat Life with a Double Buggy"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0N6ik1LnF-b7CpjdqQ8Yn8g85ywT1Czd8tSzxer-Z80tW2UfPEFjOZhEVBWNMxbLsD2eOvaG8y9WqvG_ddeeXi6YSRDvtv1yvFJ1C3LHosBfoOfQk2OQiP6fMGDX_pBAKihGZfcLM3Y/s1600/ELWADB+LinkUp.JPG" alt="Expat Life with a Double Buggy" style="border:none;" /></a></div>

I'm More British Outside of Britain

For the first twenty seven years of my life I lived (with the exception on one year in France) in England. There, I was one Brit in a sea of millions. Nothing about me to get excited about, I blended in with the British crowd.

And then I moved to the Netherlands and I was suddenly a Brit in a sea of Dutch people. I stuck out in the crowd; well actually I got lost in the crowd of tall Dutch people, but culturally I stuck out. I was the odd one out.

And I came to realise just what being British means. And how British I actually am.

I noticed it in the small things, I saw it in the big things. I saw it on a daily basis. Every time I opened my mouth to speak I was acutely aware of how British I am.

Every time I tutted as the queue that should have formed behind me descended in to a free for all, I realised my Britishness. Every time I stared daggers at the queue jumper in front of me, I realised I was embracing that part of me that makes me British.

Every time I cringed when a Dutchman actually said hello to me as he entered a lift, I felt British.

On every occasion I was greeted in the waiting room by a fellow patient in the Dutch doctor's surgery, I felt like an alien. A British alien.

Every fruitless search for Branston Pickle and crumpets and proper tea in my local Dutch supermarket left me feeling more British than ever, a despondent and homesick one at that. Luckily my stiff upper lip never let me feel down for too long.

Even a Dutch supermarket trolley can make
me feel British

Saying sorry as a Dutch shopper rammed me with her shopping trolley opened my eyes to my reflex British quirks.

Whenever I glared at a fellow train passenger whose music blares from his earphones, turning my head away at breakneck speed when the culprit turned to stare back at me,  all so they don't actually see me glaring, I knew there is a British part of me that will never fade, no longer how long I live outside of Britain.

Every time I walked away from the hairdressers looking remarkably the same as when I went in, nodding enthusiastically when asked if I like my new haircut, I knew my Britishness is all consuming.

And that big inner cheer I gave, the fist punch in the air in the empty room, when I heard that Marks & Spencers had finally reopened its doors in The Hague tells me the Britishness inside this girl is here to stay.

Sharing my British Roots

A Place I Once Called Home
(c) Amanda van Mulligen

It's not often that I get the chance to show my kids directly where I came from. To show them my roots. Where I grew up, where I went to school, where I played out on the streets with my younger brother. I'm talking about way back when, in the days when I called England home.

It's been twelve years since the Netherlands became my home. My children have no idea what it's like to live in England and it's possible that they never will.

So this summer, after a holiday in Cornwall, we took a detour to Watford after visiting a friend nearby to take a tour of my British roots.

We went to the flat that was my first 'out in the big, wide world alone' dwelling. A one-bedroom flat I bought along Whippendell Road. It's a hop, skip and a jump from Vicarage Road, home of Watford Football club where I attended almost every home game for more years than I care to mention.

Now someone else's family home
(c) Amanda van Mulligen

Then we drove past the business park I worked in for a year, following the road up to Croxley Green. From memory I directed my husband to the house which was the last family home I lived in before the members of the family I grew up with all went their separate ways to form new families of their own. The house had been slightly extended, built upwards over what was my parents' bedroom. The front door and windows were new. But in essence, the house looked the same as it did so many years ago. A dark blue car was parked under the tree that stands in front of the house, the same place my Dad's Renault stood when it was broken in to multiple times - every time a Phil Collins CD disappearing until my dad got fed up replacing it. The same parking space I used at the end of so many fun evenings with friends.

My former secondary school
(c) Amanda van Mulligen

We turned down the road at the side of the house and I remembered the surprise we got one morning when we came downstairs to find our garden wall blown down after a stormy night. The road was filled with cars, parked on both sides making driving there a slalom affair. We headed past Croxley station, past the pubs on the green where I spent many a social evening and down Scot's Hill to my former secondary school, St Joan Of Arc. It looked the same as it did over twenty years ago. Did I say that out loud? Twenty years? How can it be so long since that school was like a second home to me? How can it look the same as it does in my mind's eye? Awash with happy memories.

Then it was through Rickmansworth High Street where Boots the Chemist still occupies the same space  it did over two decades ago. Natwest Bank has the same home at the end of the High Street too. It seems that in a world of change, some things do actually stay the same.

On to Mill End where we also used to live, close to my former primary school. The house looked in desperate need of updating, some care and love to be poured in to it, but the school looked familiar. Bigger than I remember it and certainly not on the same scale as Dutch primary schools which tend to be smaller but more in abundance than British primary schools. We passed the community centre where I used to attend drama classes. Something that seems incredulous now to my introvert adult self. There was even a picture of my drama group in the local paper, but I cannot remember why. Memories. A car trip down memory lane.

My roots. My life in England. My British upbringing. And what did my children make of it all? All three boys sat in the back seat fast asleep.

How do you share your birth country roots with your children? 

What If My Kids Had Been Born in England?

I've been thinking. How different would my children already be if they had been born in England instead of the Netherlands. So, instead of three little Dutch boys with a British mother, they were three little English boys with a Dutch father.

The most obvious different is that their first language would be English, and not Dutch which is the case with my eldest. My school going 5 year old speaks better Dutch than English (whereas it was the other way round when he was a toddler because he was home with me) and now has a Dutch accent when speaking English. In England, they would not currently be bilingual.

But what about culture things? Or experiences? How would they be different if my children had been born and raised in England?

Food
Well they certainly wouldn't have eaten sprinkles on their bread had they been born and raised in England. They wouldn't have eaten so many pancakes, and certainly not under the label of "dinner". They probably would have a better selection of healthier meal choices (read not everything fried with chips) whenever we eat out had we been living now in England.

My boys would know what a crumpet was without a lengthy explanation about a bread type thing with holes in it. Scones would be second nature. Hot cross buns at Easter time would be taken as a fact and Christmas crackers wouldn't be such a novelty.

Culture
Had they been British born, they wouldn't have had such a fine collection of orange shirts between them. They wouldn't have a clue what a Beesie was, seen an orange German helmet or seen a prince throwing an orange toilet. I can't imagine I will live to see the day that Prince Charles takes part in a toilet pot throwing competition, and I guess the real question is this: why on earth would he?

They wouldn't have scouted around flea markets on Queen's Day. Sinterklaas would have stayed a stranger.

None of my kids would have experienced being transported around on the front or back of my bike as past age eleven I cannot even remember owning a bike in England, let alone thinking about ferrying kids around on one.

Jip and Janneke would be an unknown couple. Dikkie Dik would never have become a familiar feline face and Nijnte would be called Miffy. They would have grown up with the bird on Sesame Street coloured yellow going by the name of Big Bird, instead of a blue bird called Pino.

Education System
My eldest would probably be wearing a school uniform (thus saving the knees on his day to day trousers) and I would likely be transporting him to and from school in a car. In England, he also wouldn't have already been a fully fledged member of the local junior school at the tender age of four.

They would be addressing their teacher as Miss Smith instead of Juf Krista if they were in the English education system and they would be unlikely to see their teacher in jeans unless on a school trip.

Television
I'm going out on a limb to say that I assume my sons would not be so exposed to poop humour in England as they are in the Netherlands. They would know the voices of famous actors such as Tom Hanks from watching children's films in their original language, instead of Dutch dubbing which is (rightly) used for kid's programs. They would never have heard of Bumba, K3 or Kabouter Plop. They would never have seen Charlie and Lola speaking Dutch or Makka Pakka singing in Dutch.

Outdoors

This is what I call hills - something my Dutch boys are not familiar with

If my boys had been born and were being raised in England, they would most certainly know what a real hill looked like. As it is they think a speed bump is "high".

For my little Dutch boys an old, traditional windmill is commonplace, not something special. If they had lived in Watford like I did, a windmill sighting wouldn't be a weekly occurrence.

I am not convinced my eldest would have already had ice skates on and been on natural ice had we been an "English" family. And they wouldn't have been ferried around on bikes as babies.......

As my boys are still only little, there are lots more things we will come to experience that will make their lives here in the Netherlands different to the one they would lead in England. Some are positives (after all, Dutch children are the happiest in Europe), and a few are negatives.

But sometimes I wonder what impact being born in England would really have had on their lives, their personalities, their youth, their memories of growing up. Would their lives have taken a different path? It's an interesting train of thought!

What differences would have been evident if your children had been born in your birth country instead of the country you now call home? 

The Glory Days of Learning to Cycle

Learning to Ride a Bike
(c) Amanda van Mulligen

I can remember my first real bike like it was yesterday - a red Poppy bike - one with no stabilisers on it... just two wheels. I guess I must have been the age my eldest is now, maybe a year older at six. I remember falling hard numerous times until I had cracked the art of cycling. I can picture my dad holding the back of my bike as I cycled along the paths around our house - until he decided the moment was right to let go. I would carry on travelling until I realised my safety net was gone, turn and scream and then tip over. It was a pattern repeated several times. What I probably mean is hundreds of times. Bruises, cuts and scrapes failed to act as a deterrent - we kept going until I had mastered getting about on two wheels. These were without a doubt my biking glory years. This was back in England, in Warrington to be specific, in the late 1970s.

A few decades on, a change of location, and I am now the one spurring my son on to bike his way around on just two wheels. In the Netherlands, most children, if not actually born attached to a bike, are cycling almost as soon as they have some sort of leg control. At the age of 4 there are children cycling past me on the school run on two wheels. My son has already had a cycling lesson on the school playground (the first of many to come) as well as traffic awareness lessons. The foundation has been laid. It is a matter of time (I suspect weeks if the weather allows) before he joins the majority of the local population and practically glues his bum to a bicycle seat - a relationship which will last until he no longer has proper control of his legs...... I guess I had better dust my bike down and start trying to recapture my cycling glory years before all three of my sons master two wheels!