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)