My fascination with the city of Urk is growing. I feel it may be my destiny to go there someday and see it for myself.
Here's a translation of a story in today's Telegraaf. (Dutch)
I find it raises so many more questions than it answers...
"The police station of Urk has been full of beer crates for some time. So sayeth mayor Jaap Kroon of the fishing village on Tuesday.
A security firm is carrying out extra patrols around the dikes of Urk to keep an eye on youth drinking.
Kroon says that in the summertime the Urkish (Dutch: Urker) youth drink more than is good for them on the dikes around the village. That's why the police have already taken so much beer into custody recently.
"The police station has never yet been so full of impounded crates of beer," he claimed.
The mayor wants to take even more measures, but doesn't know what is legally permissible. Extra police are one possibility as far as he's concerned.
The many crates of beer at the bureau will be destroyed in any case, says a police spokesman. "We won't drink it ourselves," he said.
For the linguists, an interesting poem hanging on the side of the boat of the person who posts as "Yapsalot" on Flickr.
"Laat haters haat
en nijders nijden
wat God mij gunt
moet ieder lijden."
I have no idea what "Nijden" is, but I'm guessing it's either some kind of trivial repair you do to a ship _ or an old fashioned word similar to "hate", related to "nijdig," which means "angry and irritable."
Let haters hate
and the envious envy
Everyone must suffer
What God grants me
Dutchies: is that the right idea?