Highlights of a Low Country

By David Whiting

For many years I have combined my hobby as postcard collector with that of traveller. In 2006 I joined an Internet postcard exchange site called postcrossing.com through which I share my hobby with thousands of like-minded individuals in almost every country around the world. Occasionally there are meetings for Postcrossers; indeed I organise meetings myself in the east of England.

When a meeting was announced in the Netherlands in May 2014 I decided it would be an ideal opportunity to meet other Postcrossers and at the same time spend several days in the country visiting places I had not previously seen.

I bought a ferry ticket to travel with Stena Line from Harwich to Hoek van Holland. My ticket included a train ticket to any station in Holland; the return fare cost £80.00. It’s quite a lengthy journey, and I had two changes of train before I arrived at my base, Deventer, where I had been invited by a total stranger, a Finnish Postcrosser and her Dutch husband.

The Waag, Deventer

Deventer dates from 768 and its large harbour on the River IJssel enabled it to join the Hanseatic League. Its principal building beside the main city square is the Waag (public weigh-house), built in 1550. It now houses the city museum and Tourist Information Office (V.V.V). The cobblestones of this city, as elsewhere in the country, make for some sore footwork! Deventer has many lovely shops including several which satisfy the most discerning postcard collector!

Saturday was the day of the Postcrossing meeting. A leisurely train journey took us to the city of ‘s Hertogenbosch, also known as Den Bosch (in French Bois-le-Duc), originally the hunting forest of a Duke of Brabant. The city has the country’s finest cathedral, built in 1330-1550. Fifteen Postcrossers had arranged to meet at a café beside the cathedral and we all turned up gradually. Eventually we headed off around the city, buying postcards at the numerous outlets including a museum and a junk shop.

Postcrossers are very friendly people and I met friends new and old. Such meetings are not common, but do attract different members each time. We spent some time in a park where we wrote and collectively signed postcards which we sent to absent friends.

Sunday in the Netherlands is very different to Sunday in the UK. Here the towns can be almost as busy as any other day of the week. In the Netherlands it is extraordinarily quiet as the shops remain closed. We paid a short visit to Zutphen, a smaller town with medieval walls. It is another Hanseatic town in the River IJssel. There is a great town gate, several fine old buildings including the Old Town Hall built in 1460-62 and a hideous green New Town Hall.

Utrecht

On Monday we travelled by train to Utrecht, a much larger city. In most Dutch towns, cyclists believe they have priority and need to be avoided by other road-users. In Utrecht they may be regarded as Weapons of mass Destruction, such is the danger from cyclists and motorcyclists, even cycling in places where cycles are supposedly not allowed.

Utrecht is principally famous for its great cathedral, dating from 1254. Its massive tower was built in 1321-82, 112m tall, with 465 steps. There are guided tours (tickets from the VVV) but only for the fit! The views from the top are magnificent. The cathedral tower is now separated from the church section since a hurricane in 1674 destroyed the central part of the cathedral. It is best seen from the top of the tower.

I returned home on Tuesday, already wondering which meeting I may attend next year…

First published in VISA 117 (October 2014)

Witches, Cheese and Other Curiosities

by Rachel Kruft Welton

We had the car loaded to the roof, ready for a sprint start. We raced for the boat at Harwich, stopping only for something to eat at Kettering. Despite the panic, we arrived in comfortable time and only spent 10 minutes in the car park before boarding.

Being a family of six, we had to split cabins. Nick took the girls to the four berth at one end of the boat, while I went off with Mel to the two berth, at the other end of the boat, on a lower deck. They couldn't have been further apart if they had tried. The cabins were good quality, comfortable and smart, with a nice duvet. Stena Line I commend you! On the down side, the ship's tannoy was piped into the cabin at 180 decibels, whether you liked it or not. We snuggled down.

‘The Bureau de Change is open on deck seven.’

We turned out the light.

‘Would Mrs McKenzie please collect her keys from reception.’

We dozed for half an hour.

‘In case of emergency, please put on all your warm clothes.’

I unplugged the phone. It didn't help.

‘Slumdog Millionaire will be starting in five minutes.’

Aargh! Eventually they shut up, but not until long after midnight. With the time difference, it was 5.30 English time when we had to get up for breakfast. Passport control took forever, but we finally hit the road and headed for Oudewater in the province of Utrecht. Thanks to detailed scrutiny of Google Earth, we found the right house virtually straight away, positioned on the corner of two roads, backed by a canal. I phoned the owner, Godie, to say we had arrived, and he said he would be right over.

The kids climbed out of the car and started exploring the garden. At this point, the irate owner of the house came out and pointed out that although this was number 5, it was not on the right road. We needed to be on the adjacent road i.e. two houses away. Godie arrived by bike and walked us over. Apparently this mistake happens fairly frequently. Presumably the irate owner finds it less funny each time.

The house we stayed in is a huge, thatched, picturesque farmhouse, surrounded by shallow dykes. Eight people could sleep there comfortably. Godie lent the kids his dinghy to play about on the water in. The kids loved it, and we got through all their changes of clothes in record time. Mel seemed to be a natural at rowing. Donny prefered to push the oars instead of pull, but got the idea. The younger two girls spent a lot of time going round in circles, hitting the bank.

Anyway, we dropped our bags off and drove up to Maarssenbroek to visit my aunt Tonny and uncle Peter. They had just picked Mum up from the airport. We spent the afternoon eating and talking (you get to do a lot of that in Holland) and generally being overtired. I popped out to the local shop too. Last time we came to the Netherlands (four and a half years ago), we arrived around 6pm on a Saturday. All the shops were shut and we ended up having Chinese takeaway for tea. Even worse, we ended up having cold Chinese takeaway for breakfast the following morning. I didn´t want a repeat of that experience!

We got back to our farmhouse in the early evening. The kids put their pyjamas on without being asked so we took the hint and all sank gratefully into bed.

The next day started foggy but cheered up as the sun burnt through the clouds. We walked into Oudewater, keen to explore the old town. The town centre is full of old buildings dating from the 15th and 16th centuries. They have stepped gables and little windows with shutters. They are all made from the tiny bricks that give Dutch houses their distinctive look. We paused to admire the lock gates and the town hall, before arriving at the Witches Weigh-house or Heksenwaag. This building was constructed in 1595 to weigh people accused of sorcery. The idea is that those practitioners of magic would need to weigh less than ordinary people in order to be able to fly. The innocent could obtain a certificate proving they were not a witch.

These days, just being heavy enough does not absolve you from witchcraft accusations. We were weighed and quizzed on our likes and dislikes. We now have certificates proving we are a family of four witches, one princess and one ferry. Donny is not all that impressed about being a certified passenger ship instead of the next Tinkerbell. If you say it softly, with a Dutch accent, it sounds right. The rest of us thought it was funny.

Next stop was the rope museum, Touw Museum, which showed us the difference between lots of different sorts of rope and how they used to make it. Not much more to say about that, really. Worth a visit if you are a fan of rope, probably.

We stopped at a cafe for lunch, which blew my entire eating out budget on four pancakes. The exchange rate really sucks at the moment. Everything is about twice the price it should be. After lunch, we wandered round the rest of Oudewater before heading back to the farmhouse so the kids could mess about on the water more.

The kids took up their oars in the rowing boat, sometime around first light next morning. We were expecting Tonny and Peter and Mum over so I drove off to look for a supermarket to get supplies. Without a map or clue, I found one on the first side street I ventured down. It was delightfully peaceful and empty.

Tonny and Peter and Mum arrived and admired our spacious abode. After coffee and cakes, Tonny and Peter left to sort out some building work they were having done. The rest of us loaded into the car and headed for Gouda to see what it had to offer. The town centre is old and suitably Dutch. The houses and shops are beautiful and in the traditional style. The stadthuis in the centre is an imposing building with blue spires and a hundred windows with red shutters. It stands in the market square, although there was no market happening that day.

Dutch shopkeepers like to have large signs in the shape of models outside their shops. The kids wanted their picture taken with a six foot fish, while Nick tried to disown us. Then Nick got into the spirit of the thing and had his picture taken with a large troll. We stopped for a coffee at the Stroopwaffel Bakkerij. Usually, you can see the stroopwaffels being made, but this week the baker was on holiday, so we had to make do with coffee.

We got back to the car to discover we had a parking ticket. We hadn´t paid for parking because we hadn´t managed to find a machine to put money into. If Gouda city council wants 61 euros off us, when they hid the parking meters in the first place, then they can chase us to England to collect it.

We headed north to my cousins´ house. Tino and Hellen have two boys, Ivo and Rick, and my other cousin GJ spends a lot of time at their house too. We had a lovely afternoon talking and eating. The kids bonded reasonably well with their cousins by getting covered in sand and dripping ice lollies down themselves to aid the process of glueing the sand to their clothes. We left around the time the kids starting rolling tiredly on the sofa. Somehow we negotiated the Dutch road system and left Mum at the right house, before taking the sleepy children home.

Next day, we picked Mum up and headed out of the rain towards Arnhem. The Openluchtmuseum is a collection of old buildings from all over the Netherlands. They show life at different times from 300 years ago to the present and they range from the wealthy farmer to the peasant's turf hut. There are also various trades shown and it is a working museum in that sense. There is a blacksmith and a weaver; an oil mill, a cheese dairy, as well as a brewery and a bakery amongst others. There are a number of windmills and old-fashioned shops. The shops line a square where there are mini penny-farthings and go-karts for the kids to play on, whilst the grown-ups have a coffee.

The kids had a great time. There are plenty of things for them to have a go on. They pulled themselves across a river on a ferry attached to a rope, getting somewhat wet in the process. They had a go at grinding coffee in one farmhouse. They milked a wooden cow, used a mangle, sat on a tractor and drove a fibreglass horse and cart. They negotiated a maze and tried out the playground.

At this point the wet weather we'd left behind started to catch up with us so we caught the circular tram (at a gnome-infested station) that took us back to the entrance. We'd spent five hours there and not seen it all. I was pretty tired, let alone the kids.

The rain didn't ease as we sped towards Leiden the following day. Once again, we were negotiating the inner city roads using a map that showed the whole of the city of Leiden as a grey block, less than a centimetre wide. Amazingly we found our target without annoying too many Dutchmen. My old friend Rob was waiting for us, his Welsh dragon flag proudly displayed in the window, despite having lived in the Netherlands for the past 17 years. Rob talks pretty much non-stop, which saves anyone else the trouble of doing so.

We had planned a trip round the bulb-land area, followed by a visit to Linnaeushof, the largest children's playground in Europe. Unfortunately, the weather was worsening, if anything and the grey drizzle looked distinctly unappealing. We had a cup of tea and considered our options. A quick search on the internet revealed a kids indoor play area, not far away. We loaded everyone into our giant car and headed off.

Leiden seems to be in several phases of reconstruction. There were new building sites everywhere, which kind of spoilt the sense of Dutchness. It could have been inner-city anywhere. The play area was called BubbelJungle and was comfortably large, with a pirate-ship motif. We settled at a table and the kids pretty much vanished for the next five hours, reappearing only for food, drink and attention for minor injuries. I have to point out, just in case you are considering going there and eating, that the food was some of the worst I have encountered. OK, so maybe the fact that the cuisine to be found in a kids' fun-house situated on an industrial estate is not all that good, is hardly a shock, but...

Meanwhile, Rob entertained us by talking incessantly for the whole five hours. All too soon it was over and we had to take Rob home and say goodbye again. Time is always too short when you spend it with friends.

Alkmaar, our next place to visit, was an hour north of our base. It dates back to 1366, when it was little more than a refuge for wayfarers. The main square holds a cheese market every Friday as it has done for the past 500 years. Dutch cheese comes in huge round blocks covered in red, yellow or black wax. The market square was filled with rows of stacked cheeses. At one end there was a cheese weighing station. The white-clad, straw-boater wearing carriers raced up and down to it, bearing stretchers loaded with cheese between them. The stretchers were hung from harnesses they were wearing, rather than being carried. The men moved at quite a pace. The place was heaving with visitors. We struggled through the tourist market and decided to try to escape the hustle and bustle by taking a rondvaart.

Rondvaart literally translates as ‘round trip’ and in this country it is usually on a boat. The kids naturally had a giggle at rondvaart, as you do. My favourite Dutch Name of the Day had to go to a bed shop which translates loosely as Bed-Experts. It is actually called Bedweters. Would you buy a bed from them?

I digress. Where was I? Oh yes, the boat trip. This lasted about 45 minutes and took us around the canals of Alkmaar, pointing out the historic buildings as we went. It turned into an adventure trip as we passed under 22 low bridges. When I say low, I mean not just ‘mind your head’ low, but ‘mind your back and shoulders’ and ‘squat right down on the floor, or else’ type of low. Great fun.

The market shut at 12.30 and we still had half of a beautifully sunny day. We decided to head south, away from the crowds.

Kasteel de Haar started off as a farmhouse with a tower about 900 years ago. Successive generations added to it until it was abandoned and fell into ruin. Around 100 years ago the wealthy de Haar and van Zuylans families restored it. They thoughtfully rebuilt the local village (which they named after themselves), having demolished it in the first place to make room for a park around the castle. The village of Haarzuilens is decked out in the castle colours of red and white.

We wandered around the gardens and water features, taking a brief look at the church. The kids checked out the beech tree maze and squeezed back through the hedge when it all got too complicated. It is a pretty place.

In order to go inside you have to sign up for the tour, in Dutch. It lasted an hour and (due to half the castle being under renovation) it didn't take in all that many rooms. It was pretty slow. I'm not a great fan of organised tours at the best of times and the kids were already tired.

Inside it is richly decorated, mostly in a neo-Gothic style. I can't say that blood-red carpets and black walls do all that much for me. The ladies’ bedrooms were lighter and more airy, being more of a Renaissance style, but altogether I think I would have to redecorate if I moved in.

Tour over, we headed back to Oudewater for something to eat. We were very tired. The kids were so tired that they slept through the loudest thunderstorm I've ever had the pleasure of witnessing. One crack was so sudden and close that we checked outside the house, once our hearts had stopped racing. We half expected the car to have been replaced with a burnt crater, but it seemed to have escaped the lightning strike this time.

First published in VISA 86 (Aug 2009)

Yikes! Bikes!

by Elizabeth Johnstone

Amsterdam is well established as a popular weekend destination from the UK. It fits my criteria, too. Apart from its historical and cultural interest, it is in the Euro Zone and is a short hop by easyJet from Luton Airport. So, in October 2009, we found ourselves at Amsterdam Airport. It was straightforward to buy return train tickets to the centre, plus a strip card (no, not that sort of strip) for use on the buses and trams. We actually struggled to use the strip card, as our hotel was well-placed and the main attractions were within easy walking distance.

After the usual trawl through Tripadvisor, I booked the Owl Hotel - pre-ash, so we booked hotel and flights separately. Incidentally, I don’t always take the Tripadvisor comments as gospel. They frequently show an American perspective on European hotels, which I do not necessarily share. But we were delighted with the hotel. It was clean, cosy and comfortable, and no more than a ten-minute walk into the city centre. The staff were pleasant and helpful, recommending sights and restaurants. We always enjoy a leisurely breakfast on these weekend trips, and the Owl did us proud. The outlook onto the garden would have been delightful in summer.

We tackled the major tourist sights, armed as usual with a Rough Guide. The Van Gogh Museum was a must see, although I found it a bit spartan inside and out. It would have been fascinating for a serious art student who wanted a lot of technical information on Van Gogh. The Rijksmuseum, one of the world’s great art museums, was more appealing to the all-rounder. When we were there, many rooms were shut for renovation but a ‘capsule collection’ was set out in the Philips Wing. Ideal! How often have you trailed round a huge museum, looking out for the one or two famous paintings while slowly losing the will to live? The twenty or so rooms had all the masterpieces, culminating with Rembrandt’s The Night Watch. This painting is well displayed and explained. An art teacher brought in his class with their clipboards, but my Dutch was not up to it. If you enjoyed the film The Girl with the Pearl Earring, you will be fascinated by the many Vermeers here.

The single most famous visitor attraction in Amsterdam must be Anne Frank’s house. I was apprehensive that it would be a catalogue of unremitting horror, but it definitely was not. All the background detail of the family’s hidden life was fascinating. Overall, there was a powerful sense of history, of being in the very place where those heartbreaking events unfolded. I was very glad that I overcame my squeamishness and I would recommend a visit to any secondary-age child. Anne Frank was Jewish, and the Jewish heritage of Amsterdam is extensive. We visited the Esnoga, the Portuguese Synagogue, which has served the Jewish community for over 400 years. When it was completed, it was one of the largest in the world; its proportions and magnificent decoration bear testament to its status. It was spared by the Nazis, mysteriously. More Jewish history is to be found in the Joods Historisch Museum, a complex of four adjacent synagogues. You can stroll round, admiring artefacts and reading posters. Or you can listen to headsets, documenting in detail – sometimes mundane, often horrific – the Nazi occupation.

On a more cheerful note, many Jews were diamond merchants. Purely in the interests of historical research, you understand, we went on a guided tour of Gassan Diamonds. This is a slick operation. Entrance is free, but it must be economically worth it when a visitor has the impulse to buy a piece of diamond jewellery. My husband did not succumb to that impulse during our tour. Make your own mind up. After seeing the machinery and the craftsmen at work, we were locked into a little room and shown a succession of sumptuous jewellery. Unless my ship comes in, that will be the only time I wear a diamond ring worth tens of thousands of pounds. A girl can dream…

We went to Boom Chicago, a semi-improvisational comedy club. We had good seats near the front, and made an evening of it, starting with an upmarket burger with all the trimmings, and enjoying reasonably priced drinks. The show was entertaining, the comedy a little broad perhaps, aimed at an English-speaking and international audience. Not the most subtle perhaps, but good fun.

The Albert Cuypstraat market is over a kilometre long, selling everything from tourist trinkets to local food and drink – including herring in every possible guise – and the usual market staples. At the other end of the retail spectrum, De Bijenkorf (the Beehive) lives up to its name as a hive of activity, while there are great views of the city from the café on the top floor of Metz &Co. And yes, you can buy and smoke cannabis in the famous ‘coffee shops’ – but not, of course, tobacco. That would be bad for your health… The flower market is touristy but gorgeous. Cheese shops are a major draw for me. I never met a cheese I didn’t like, and there’s a lot more to kaas than the familiar Edam and Gouda.

Food and drink present no surprises to the British visitor. We have met most of it before, in the form of Dutch butter, cheese, bacon, ham and beer (not forgetting Douwe Egberts coffee). It is no surprise that the Dutch are the tallest nation in the world, with their high-protein, dairy-heavy diet. Dutch traditional food is very comforting to the British palate. I asked a Dutch colleague what was the most typical dish and I was told ‘pea soup’. We ordered this one lunchtime, foolishly asking for a sandwich on the side. A vat of soup duly arrived, a small flotilla of sliced sausages bobbing about on top. I am so greedy that I finished the lot, but I am not proud of myself. The overseas speciality is the Indonesian rijstafel, a selection of spicy dishes which recollect Holland’s colonial past, much as curry recalls ours. Whatever its origins, it is delicious.

What about the famous Red Light district? We combined an afternoon walk through the ‘Wallen’ with a visit to a Catholic church hidden in an attic, as you do. It is quite possible to walk through the Red Light district, admiring its, ahem, establishments of various types, without feeling at all intimidated. It is strictly regulated, but still attracts groups of lads, joshing and egging each other on, as well as more purposeful punters.

 And the bikes! You quickly develop an awareness of cyclists bearing down on you from the dedicated cycle lanes. They ride with what I can only describe as a sense of entitlement. I was very taken by the multi-storey cycle parks. Most bikes are the old ‘sit-up-and-beg’ style with a variety of child-carrying arrangements. Very picturesque, but the wheelbarrow styles of child carriers would just not be allowed in England. But then, in London, cyclists have a more adversarial relationship with other road users. There is nothing picturesque about London cycling.

 We took a canal tour, threading through the network of canals and venturing out into the harbour. We passed the interactive science museum NEMO with the 78-metre De Amsterdam, a replica of an East Indiaman, moored in front of it. The canals are the arteries of Amsterdam, and it is very pleasant to stroll around, admiring the gentle, watery cityscape. We couldn’t decide which was the most off-kilter of the many tenements affected by subsidence. My husband was fascinated by the facts and figures surrounding the building of the houses, especially the number of wooden stilts on which they were supported and the difficulty of getting insurance on them. And we think we have subsidence problems in the London area! As for the language, every person in hospitality spoke impeccable English. I have not learnt Dutch, but I speak German and I could often figure out signs and posters by a process of deduction. Even more so than in Scandinavia, you could breeze through a visit to Holland/Amsterdam speaking nothing but English. As a teacher of modern languages, I always find this faintly shaming…

 Anyway, Amsterdam has something for everyone. It is not particularly cheap, but when you are used to London prices, they are not at all terrible. An hour or less from London, familiar but just foreign enough – I’ll be back.

Tot ziens!

 First published in VISA 98 (Aug 2011)

 

Seaside Dutch Treat

by Lynn Hurton

So many people visit Holland in order to see Amsterdam and nowhere else. By contrast, I decided to stay at the coastal town of Noordwijk aan Zee, a mere 45 minute drive away, but a whole world away in many respects.

I stayed with friends, so accommodation costs were minimal, but I observed plenty of good quality cheap guest houses in the area. I flew out from Gatwick on Easyjet, a bargain at £35 return. My Dutch friends were dismissive of the airline, but one cannot complain at flights which are functional, depart promptly and arrive early. It was painless! Why pay for frills on a very short flight? Pointless, I’d say.

The July weather was typical for Holland: 18 Celsius and showery. Still, it did not spoil the break. There were plenty of coastal walks, a variety of reasonably priced restaurants with sea (sand dune) views, an excellent Thursday market and a street full of every conceivable type of Dutch shop. Around the corner was the Noordwijk Museum, housed in a deceptively large old cottage. One couldn’t argue at the €2 entrance fee – or their excellent range of fridge magnets!

Of course, one cannot visit Holland without experiencing a canal boat trip. A four hour lakes and windmills extravaganza, departing from Noordwijk, cost a worthwhile €11. It was 4 hours of sheer pleasure drifting along, watching the world go by. I saw windmills and cows aplenty, not to mention drainage systems. It was the archetypal Dutch experience. The Kager lakes have to be seen to be believed! We even had a welcome afternoon tea shop on the island village of Kaagdorf, which is like old Holland in miniature. It was lovely to stretch one’s legs and see something different for a while. No point in wasting time drinking tea in a café when refreshments were so cheap on the boat. No advance booking was necessary and one returned to the departure point at 5.30pm, just in time for tea. Perfect!

90 minutes by car from Noordwijk are the Zuiderzee open air and indoor museums. One catches a ferry to the open air museum village where one can experience the Holland of yesteryear. It was impossible to see everything in six hours, but I had a jolly good try. The open air museum consists of a number of ‘neighbourhoods’ laid out according to the historical street plan of various Zuiderzee villages, with everything to scale. The old schoolhouse fascinated me (as a teacher) with rooms set out in 1905 and 1930 styles respectively. I couldn’t stay for the lesson in seamanship, however – I had no desire to sit behind a desk once more…I prefer being in charge of a classroom these days! The candy store proved a favourite with young and old alike (delicious old fashioned sweets), as did the grocery. There was no time to see the indoor museum, but I didn’t mind – it had been informative and fun! Another 90 minute journey takes one to Batavia wharf: a yard which offers a fascinating insight into traditional shipbuilding and maritime archaeology. One can see the reconstructions of 17th century ships side by side, having a chance to clamber all over one of them and experience life in a Dutch ship over 350 years ago. By contrast, there’s a shopping village, just spitting distance away – functional, but somehow out of place.

All too soon, the long weekend ended; but I had no regrets. I had had a superb holiday and survived the weather. The Dutch are so friendly too; I can’t wait to return!

First published in VISA issue 63 (Oct 2005)