The Netherlands, Part Three

Albo Helm, standing before the 17th century
main building of Utrecht University
As we walked to Albo Helm’s home in the central part of Utrecht, he said, “I live in the neighborhood with the most criminals.”

This was a completely true statement. A stone’s throw from Albo's front door is a prison, built by Napoleon and still in use. Albo’s home is a row house built in the 1850s to house prison guards and their families.

Back home in Texas, anything built in the 1850s is an object of great curiosity and significant historical value—the Neill-Cochran house in Austin, for instance. In Albo’s neighborhood, however, this barely rates as old. For this is the medieval quarter of Utrecht.

Albo took me on a tour of the area. We started our walk by following the original moat that still partially surrounds the area ...


Nearby was a remnant of the old city wall ...

A medieval courtyard ...


An observatory built in the 1500s ...




Approaching the Dom Church, built in the 1200s ...



In the seventeenth century, the nave of the church was destroyed by a tornado, leaving the graves in the floor exposed to the sky ...


One of the newer buildings, built in 1775 ...


Albo draws inspiration from medieval Utrecht. On Sunday mornings when the streets are empty, he says, the place feels timeless, haunted by the many souls who have lived here through the centuries.

In addition to his many other projects, Albo produces a comic magazine, De Inktpot, that showcases the work of Utrecht's cartoonists. Utrecht, of course, is the setting for these comic strips, and in a very real sense might be said to be the central character.

We finished our walk, then rendezvoused with Albo's woman friend Thea and their daughter Kina at a very fine restaurant. They treated me to a wonderful meal and lively conversation. Kina's boyfriend joined us briefly, then they went their own way, while Thea, Albo, and I took a leisurely stroll past the night spots of central Utrecht. Thea headed home, while Albo stopped for one more round of beer and talked till my eyes began to cross from beer and sleepiness.

We headed home. Thea had made a comfortable pallet for me on the floor of Albo's studio. I sank into it and slept like a baby, then in the morning joined Albo and Thea for breakfast. In a little while, it was time to go. Albo walked me to the train station. "Be safe in Amsterdam, Mack," he said ...

(to be continued)