Phlog

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Email: Hans@arend.nu + Phlog@arend.nu + Guy@arend.nu xxAuteursrecht. xInbreuk

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Week 37 2011, from September 12th.

SNCF House, where twice a day the train to Cahors flies past.
Guy

Letterbox, at umpteen metres from the house.
Guy

Sunday.
On the way to their Sunday lunch at De Joffers.

Nowadays a Thunderbird from 1960 can just as well have a tattered look!

It took some time before a halftrack arrived from the nearest village. Meanwhile we discovered mutual acquaintances that had practically lived next to their door on the canal in Amsterdam. And I told a story of a guy who had discovered two Delorians in New Jersey and made a trial run in one of them with his girlfriend, but he drove too fast and couldn’t keep the rear heavy rear from breaking away in a bend and shot into a swampy field, rear side first. The silver beauty started to sink, but could be saved in time after the guy had phoned the salesman, who soon came down in a tow truck. You’re lucky you have a mobile phone and could find the tow truck, otherwise the flood would have made the salvage less funny than a hilarious anecdote.

The following day we went back to the beach again. It had been sunny all morning, and it had been ebb tide, with a wide flat beach, but the tide was coming in. It was quiet and on the sea only a few ships in the distance. On the terrace the Thunderbird, looking a bit timid, greeted us with a waving hand, and pointed at their bird in the distance on the beach. The beach looked so nice and inviting to make a ride as we so often did in California. So we followed a car that went down the ramp. I now understand that the structure of sand may differ enormously geographically. Although it looked hard and solid it immediately began to suck at the tires. The tide’s coming in quicker than we thought. The boy of the terrace called a tow truck. He got stuck with his own car once, he said. Would you like a glass of champagne? Martha asked.

Which cute blonde will hop off the bus?

One of the expected 1100 Porsches to attend the Petit Grand Prix in Naarden.

AC Aceca.

Talbot Lago.

Siata.

Heavy steering, in spite of the light hearted styling.

Flat screen avant la lettre.

Different greens.

Team Holland's Porsche GTS of 1964 in the Marktstraat in Naarden.

Bentley, looks like a locomotive, drove like one.

Nice, nice.

With some dark barks the Ferrari red 250 Testa Rossa escapes
the hubbub in Naarden Vesting and the gathering around Le Petit Grand Prix,
organized by Le Petit Salon de l'Auto.
.

Next Monday trams will be diverted.

Saturday.
New rails.

65+
Guy

Monpazier.
Guy

Back in Holland I remarried, Martha told us, and I regularly, as on this great day, tour around with my present husband, yes with the same T-bird as then, same color. When we spotted her in front of a specialized dealership in the East of the country we didn’t hesitate long. And in Holland it ain’t a small car anymore. She still is a dream. Philip sold his business and we have the time and the means to leave town and fly with our bird to wherever we want.

We spontaneously talked about the car, and the couple appeared to live in Amsterdam. On the terrace Martha told us that when she was a young girl she fell in love with an American, who was deep into computers, working for one of major chipmakers. The car we bought, she said, was a Thunderbird, a dream of a car, same color as this one, which soon became a bit small when our family grew bigger, for a Thunderbird was built on a medium sized platform, which is small for a family car. So we bought a larger car. A Galaxie, I said. Yes, she said, but how could you know?

Thinking of my first car, which was a light blue Mini, I automatically remember the first tour I made with my automobile to the coast, with my parents and sister, and drink coffee in Riche, a beach restaurant in Zandvoort. I felt rich. On this marvelous Summer’s day, walking to the restaurant Het Strand on the beach of Texel, the sound of the yells of the seagulls were drowned out by the thumping sound of a V8. A light blue ’60 Ford Thunderbird, light green the importer will have called it.

Thursday.
Sunny all day.

Windy indeed.

Wednesday.
To the lighthouse on the North point of Texel.

The first floor of the Bagels&Beans in the Van Baerlestraat,
was completely remodeled, for gatherings in the Museum District,
meetings and even weddings! Florien is new in the team.

"Not really ha, ha!"

"Cool man!"

"Wink, wink, I see you."

"I haven't seen you for a long time!"

Preparing the swap with new rails.

We should not have left the park

After somber days of rain we walk in the sun again.

The charming clock's been set back half a century.
Guy

Tuesday.
En route in the Lot region.
Guy

Sunset near Fumel, South Western France.
Guy

Mart Visser Kerkmeester Nieuwe Kerk Amsterdam. Voor de editie 2011 van de Kerkmeester van De Nieuwe Kerk is de Amsterdamse couturier Mart Visser gevraagd. Van 26 augustus tot en met 2 oktober 2011 toont hij een voor De Nieuwe Kerk ontworpen werkelijk schitterende installatie, die zich richt op Nederlandse couturiers van gisteren en vandaag. Voor Visser is De Nieuwe Kerk onlosmakelijk verbonden met het huwelijk, niet in de laatste plaats het Koninklijk huwelijk van 2002. Daarom koos Visser de mooiste voorbeelden van bruidscouture én een aantal kunstwerken van toonaangevende couturiers en beeldend kunstenaars. Het hele verhaal.

Mooi, mooi? Deze hoaute couture show
wordt in de Amsterdamse Nieuwe Kerk gehouden
tot en met 2 October a.s.

Méhari, Singer, runs like a sewing machine monsieur,
2CV, Méhari, 2CV, 2CV, Dyane, 2CV, and a lightblue Méhari.
Guy

Also Citroën Méhari.
Somewhere near Fumel, Southern France.
Guy

"Regularly a good laugh is the best for my health."

And again. Last jump, to the Willemsparkweg.
Like flying a jet, no kidding.

Monday morning. One more attempt to make a jump in the direction of the Museumplein, not hindered by shopkeepers and their personnel. A fine jump and a great one. Further than ever. Fierce braking after the smooth landing. Could have been a record. Great car, great jump.