Three seasons in Dordrecht

The day we arrived in Dordrecht, we walked down to Jongepier and enjoyed drinks looking out over the busy river junction. It was a summery day - shirts, sunshine and promenading. Each day the Scheffersplein would fill with people having lunch or a sociable coffee or drink.

When we came back to Dordrecht in November, most of the leaves had turned or fallen. There was a chill in the air and for the first time we rustled through our cases for gloves and scarves. The air was crisp, the light bright and the days shortening.

This week, the town is a snow covered delight. The boats are dusted in snow, the playing fields are white and the light is watery, thin. In the mornings, it is superbly white, quiet, insulated, hushed. The smaller canals have already frozen and the ice skating will soon begin.

It is bitterly cold - minus something all of the time and bitingly cold when the wind blows. Even Hugh, who I was convinced was born without the ability to detect cold, who would cheerfully volunteer to test whether the canal ice will hold his weight, has today complained of cold feet. We have added all our layers, gloves, scarves, hats. And still the cold can make you wince or squeal.

The solution? Short, brisk forays outside, with longer lunches looking out at the postcard views!