In de Buurt

Ever since we moved to our apartment in Nijmegen, I've wanted to write something that gives you a feeling of what it's like in de buurt, or in our neighborhood.

As a side note, one of the things I genuinely do like about Dutch is how one can see — when one is sitting peacefully on one's couch on a Sunday morning, not when one is suffering through small talk with one's co-workers — how closely the English language is related to it.

I'm no linguist, but I suspect, for example, that the word suburb is closely related to the Dutch word buurt, and also that the "bor" part of neighbor is, too.

We live on a street in Nijmegen Oost (aka Nijmegen East) called Museum Kamstraat, named after — and this is tricky, so stay with me — Museum Kam, which is just down the street.

As a side note, I was delighted to find that there is an Arnoldstraat in Nijmegen, and that it happens to be an extension of Museum Kamstraat.

I was delighted, that is, until John gleefully pointed out that Arnoldstraat doesn't actually have anything on it; it's just an unadorned, 30-foot stretch of pavement connecting two other streets.

As a side note to my side note, it turns out that Arnold is a somewhat common first name for men in the Netherlands.

On the plus side, this means that I can just say it slowly and people understand me without me having to spell it. On the down side, I get a LOT of mail addressed to Mr. Autumn. And by a lot, I mean pretty much all of my mail.

Most people do (eventually) understand my first name, but when I'm not standing in front of them, displaying physical features that strongly suggest my first name is not Arnold, I think it's easy to focus on Arnold and just ignore the unfamiliar word next to it.

All of that is a long way to say that I like having an Arnoldstraat in the neighborhood, even if it is the most boring street in the entire city of Nijmegen.

For its part, Museum Kam is a beautiful, strange building with all sorts of crazy Roman decorations.

As it turns out, Mr. Kam was an amateur archaeologist with a huge collection of artifacts from when the Romans founded Nijmegen.

(In case you're planning your next pilgrimage to see the Roman artifacts of Nijmegen: most of the collection was moved in the 1990's from Museum Kam to the Valkhof museum, which is Nijmegen's big art and architecture museum, and so now the Kam is only open on Thursday afternoons and by appointment.)

Much of Nijmegen was bombed to smithereens during WWII, so most of the buildings in our neighborhood have a charming if not all that aesthetically pleasing, built-in-the-50's-and-60's feel to them.

Museum Kam is a notable exception, as is the giant, ominous school building we can see from our living room window:

This school is on Berg en Dalseweg, which is one of the four or five main streets that radiate outward from the center of the city.

Berg en Dalseweg literally means "Mountain and Valley Way", but this being the Netherlands, it's hard to say that with a straight face.

A more accurate name might be "Still Extremely Flat But Not As Flat as the Rest of the Netherlands Way."

Berg en Dalseweg is a main street, but it's still primarily residential, with just a couple of restaurants and a couple of shops.

One of these is Spare-Rib Grill Van Dam, a terrifying business that offers "American take away." John and I have not yet worked up the courage to try it, but I really feel it's our patriotic duty to do so.

At least once. Possibly with a lot of beer to help us choke it down.

Another Berg en Dalseweg highlight is Cafe Trianon, a charming old restaurant / bar with outdoor seating and an eclectic series of live music offerings. When I say eclectic, I really do mean eclectic.

Jazz oboe, anyone?

Last but not least, we're just a few minutes' walk away from the Nijmegen Oost shopping district, home of my much-beloved and also much-reviled Albert Heijn grocery store.

I don't really like to think about how many trips I've made to this particular place of business in the last year, but I estimate that it's about 327.

We took this photo on a Sunday, when AH is only open from 4 to 8, so it sort of misses the overflowing chaos of bicycles and cars and parents with small children trying to buy groceries in a store made up of about 8 aisles.

My frequent complaints about AH and the principles of personal space that do not seem to apply inside of it aside, I really do appreciate having a major grocery store within easy walking distance of our apartment.

But wait! There's more!

Our local hardware store, Doeland (which, hilariously, translates to "Do" Land) is next door to the Heijn.

In our case, a more accurate name would be "Try to Do, and Then Go Back to the Hardware Store for More Supplies" Land.

There's also a bakery, an aromatic seafood place that sells raw herring and other Dutch delicacies, and Kruidvat (our local drugstore, which, as you know, is dead to me).

Across the street, we have a newly opened wine shop as well as Bruna, a book / stationery store where I'm able to buy frightening Dutch greeting cards for pretty much any occasion.

Passed your driving test? Check.

Been awarded a swimming diploma? Check.

Moving in together? Check.

Been married for 12.5 years?

You've got to love the Dutch: there's a card for that, too.