Frozen in Friesland

Frozen Friesland

This week I found myself suddenly trapped in Friesland as snow and ice descended upon the province, transforming it in to Freezeland.

Our first warning of the approaching winter weather had actually happened on the Sunday, a full day before there was any sight of even a single snow flake or the slightest drop in temperature. Lights had started to mysteriously flicker around the house which I would normally take as an indication of an impending paranormal event (a haunting or the development of my three year old daughter’s telekinetic powers perhaps). However, we later found out the storm approaching from the North East was causing over head power cables in that area to ice over and ‘dance’ (it’s a real technical term) in the wind, thus disrupting the power grid and our lights.

On the Monday the snow came and by Tuesday the deep freeze had set in.

My attempt to drive to the train station that morning was a very slow and interesting one. The freezing night time temperatures had covered the roads in a thick layer of smooth ice. As a side effect my drive was starting to feel like I was taking part in a badly organised and ill conceived car based version of the Elfstedentocht. Even while crawling along at 10 kilometres an hour (which was all that was possible) my car was sliding more than it was driving. Even the slightest steering correction or application of the break was causing the car to disagree about which direction we should be going. However, if I was extremely careful and very slow the drive didn’t seem completely impossible. In the winter darkness of 7am I could not see the faces of the oncoming drivers but I imagined they had a look of mild terror as they slid passed in the opposite direction with a similar illusion of control.

I was convinced that everything would be fine as soon as I reached the main road but I was wrong. After twenty minutes of car skating I had reached the same distance that, under normal conditions, would take me less than five. The radio started to announce the issuing of a code red weather warning and advised drivers to stay home and give up all thoughts of motorized transport for the day (unless absolutely and positively necessary).

Shortly after discovering that the conditions on the main road were not much better than the roads I had come from I decided to follow the radios advice. I turned the car around (extremely slowly to avoid any unfortunate accidents with the nearby road side stream*) and started the slow return journey home.

For the two days that followed I was forced to stay home. The ice would melt a bit during the day but re-freeze at night. This caused the weather warning to bounce back and forth between code red and code orange like a defective disco light until the ice was finally gone on Friday.

However, it was a bit of a shame to see the ice go. Even though it had caused a lot of problems the Friesians had made the best of it. All over the province adults and children (the schools had been closed) had started ice skating in the streets. It’s little a surprise that the Dutch win so many ice skating medals. In Groningen students started curling with beer crates and youtube got a few additional Friesian inspired ice fail videos.

Who knows if there will be more ice in the next few weeks or if we have to wait another year for it to strike again. All I know is next year I might try ice skating to work instead of driving.

((*Whose bright idea was it to dig so many car sized watery ditches next to roads in The Netherlands?))

((**Credit to my friend VallyP for the Freezeland joke. I sort of stole it.))

Stuart

Stuart is an accident prone Englishman who has been living in the Netherlands since 2001. Even his move to the country was an unintentional accident, the result of replying to a cryptic job advertisement he found one day in a local British magazine. Since then he has learned to love the Dutch (so much so that he married one of them) and now calls the country home. He started the blog Invading Holland in 2006 as a place to share his strange stories of language misunderstandings, cultural confusions and his own accident prone nature.

8 Responses

  1. Gez says:

    Hey, you know there may be more on the way?
    I have some ice skates here that might fit – what shoe size are you? ;)

  2. The Canuck says:

    This reminds me of the Ice Storm of ’98 in eastern Canada and the north eastern United States.

    Some cities were closed for a week and others lost power for much longer than that.

    http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/ice-storm-1998/

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_American_Ice_Storm_of_1998

    Get some cleats for your boots and take a walk, its really very pretty out there.

  3. VallyP says:

    Haha, Stu…this is classic. I can so well imagine that (dis)illusion of control! Thanks for the credit. I told you what it would be like there in Freezeland, didn’t I? So come back to Rottendam :)

  4. IJzel says:

    Quote
    “The freezing night time temperatures had covered the roads in a thick layer of smooth ice. ”

    That would be an interesting physical phoneme. FYI it requires water as well, in this specific case undercooled water. In Dutch called IJZel. In English there seems to be no word for it, since Wiki makes it freezing rain : https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freezing_rain.

    I had a visual of the universe if everything below zero Celsius would be ice. A endless ice ball with the stars flickering in it.

  5. Coming from Miami, your story sounds like frozen equivalent of what it’s like being trapped at home during a hurricane…eek!

  6. Friesland is probably the best place to be trapped!

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