We have been spending three days in the house because of mayor rain. It has rained for three days and three nights non stop and most of the time everything outside of our windows was white with water. Code red all through the valley, encouraged NOT to leave the house. So we made tea, read books and baked a cake. Being dutch we are used to the rain.

Every few hours one of us went down to the river with our dog (who ran from hiding place to hiding place) to see if the bridge was holding. Our little mountain river has turned into a rage of brown angry water, swallowing everything on its way.


The bridge stood the force until saturday night. We thought it was the thunder we heard, but it’s the rocks that the river is moving on its way that make a deep and loud roar.

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It is already the third time the bridge breaks and people are not surprised. I asked what about the people (three families) that live on the other side of the river? Well, they’ll just have to walk up the mountain and find another bridge to cross…

In 1940 there has been such a big flood that half of the village has feel swept away and many people died. It is more talked about than the war.


This is the normal level of the river with the stone bridge studded by lots of big rocks.

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