Bit of a lazy start this morning. We’ve got till 12pm to depart so we do a slow pack up even going to the trouble of unpacking the kettle to brew up part way through. The motor mover came into its own getting off the pitch, it’s not often we use it but we got our money’s worth today.
The journey was very uneventful. 2.5 hrs of Dutch motorways, a bit like our motorways, faceless and boring, nothing to look at. Stopped in a small service station, nothing like we have at home. Just a petrol station, lots of picnic tables and a queue for the electric vehicles charging points. Butties snaffled in the caravan, quick wee, the loo is always set up, then back on the road, I’m so glad I brought my crochet in the car with me. 2.5 hrs of uninterrupted crocheting singing along to the Dutch 80s station on the radio.
Destination number two is a friend’s house. We plan to plop the caravan in his garden, this will be our base for our cycling meet up that is the main reason for us being in the Netherlands. Turning into his drive was obstacle no. 1, we literally had inches on each side of the van to spare. “See, I told you, lots of room” said Ard, our host.
Getting to his back garden was obstacle no.2. They’ve had that much rain that the caravan actually sank into his drive, a clever concoction of rubber mats and wooden wedges got us back on firm ground, we chose to avoid his grass and positioned ourselves on firm ground facing the garden. They have so much more land around their properties here than we do. With chickens meandering around and goats to the side of us this looked like it might be a good spot. The view out of my bedroom window wasn’t too shabby either.
The sky looks quite menacing on the photo and true to form it stayed that way over the weekend. The plan was that the group would cycle on the Saturday and the Sunday and I would spend my time at the caravan. It’s been so long since we last used the van and in all honesty since we finished working for the Caravan and Motorhome Club at the end of 2022 we’ve hardly used the caravan at all. So, I was quite looking forward to spending some quality time in it. The weekend flashed by in a flurry of lycra, my book, my crocheting and good old BBC Sounds, oh yeah and the rain. Whilst the lycra clad group of international riders met and rode incomprehensible amounts of miles on the Saturday and Sunday, I was kept inside the van by the torrential downpours that obliterated my view out of the window. Meanwhile the cyclists managed to ride away from the rain and were astonished by the size of the puddles on their return.
The weekend meet disbanded, farewells said with plans for next year’s meet in the pipeline, it was time for our holiday to restart. The weather was cool and windy with lots of heavy showers, even so, over the next few days we did manage to get some miles under our belts on the tandem.
I was totally unprepared cycling wise for autumnal cycling and had to make do and mend with my cycling clothes mixed in with my normal clothes to keep me warm.
We visited Muiden, a beautiful little town on the banks of the River Vecht, it was nice to have a mooch around and sit awhile at the side of the river, saying how we could live there.
Next stop that day was to Naarden, a wonderfully old, historic walled town. This was where we spotted the houses flying the Dutch flag, along with bags of all shapes and sizes. We asked our hosts what the meaning of this was. Apparently when a young person passes their final school exams, their school bag is put out with the flag to tell their neighbours of their achievements. Chatting together, we decided we could live here too.
We cycled to the Dutch city of Gouda, known for its world famous cheese. A beautiful town hall sits in the centre of a very cosmopolitan square. Ravenous for lunch we wandered around the square checking out all the cafes and restaurants for food. They were all so busy, tables positioned outside enjoying a brief dry spell, we settled on a street food restaurant and dined like kings for a lunchtime. The food was delicious. We plonked ourselves on a bench readying ourselves for the ride back when two old boys wearing Lycra emblazoned in English approached us with two very snazzy looking bikes. They were touring The Netherlands on bicycles, one telling us that he was the proud owner of a new liver and that without his new found love of cycling, his new liver wouldn’t have been possible and he would no longer have been with us. It’s amazing some of the people you meet and their stories, if only you take the time to sit and listen.
As we said our goodbyes and started our way across the square, we commented that we could live here too. Cycling in this country is such a dream and everyone does it. One of the many stumbling blocks to living here. is the language, it really is beyond us for even trying to work it out. It’s funny how when on holiday, you sit and think about how you could live there when in reality it’s quite far removed from the ideal than you think it is.
A 28 mile round trip into Utrecht took us into the city centre and whilst pretty it was still a city centre. Not quite what we look for when out and about but a nice alternative to Amsterdam.
As our time in our friend’s garden comes to an end, it’s suggested that we take the car out to visit a couple of places. Zaanse Schans, a world of windmills. Free to get in with a couple of payable attractions if you want to see them. Bit of a tourist attraction with lots of English speakers around us, though not English accents. The place was awash with younger people all doing what we call their ‘Instagram posing.’ This got quite annoying when there were designated spots to gets the best photo and they hogged the spot pouting this way and that, crossing their legs this way and that, looking sultry down the camera lens and finally the back of the head shot whilst a queue built up behind us for that perfect shot. I’m sure they won’t mind me sharing their image, you can’t see their faces and I’m sure her thousands of followers have given it a ‘like’ by now.
On the other hand, without all the tourists it really was a lovely place.
On the way to our next destination we stopped off in Zaandam to see a hotel that I’d spied on the internet. Quirky as it was, I’m glad I’ve seen it but this place too was a haven for ‘Instagram posing,’ take a look in the bottom left corner of the photograph.
Then onto our final stop of the day, Marken. A fishing village with characteristic wooden houses which make it a tourist destination. That’s not why I’m here though. There’s also a steam powered clog making workshop, where you can book a demonstration on how clogs were and are still made. Sebastian, our young host, showed us the old and new process of authentic clog making. When I say new process, it’s not that new and goes back to the early 1900s. There was of course a shop, designed to make tourists part with their hard earned cash. The clogs were beautiful and also designed to be worn as well as for decoration. Whilst they were very pretty I’ve nowhere to display a pair and can’t imagine myself clumping round Tesco in a pair.
I did however spy a pair, reminiscent of my childhood that I could wear round Tesco. Like an old fool, I parted with my money very easily.
And just like that a week staying in our friend’s garden has come to an end. It has been very cost effective, ie. free, we did thank our hosts with an evening meal in the local town. Whilst it’s been ok, and we appreciated it, it’s not like being on a holiday caravan site. I’m looking forward to getting back to a proper site and using a proper toilet. Whilst I’m not averse to using the caravan loo, a proper toilet will be most welcome.
Now, just to get this blooming big caravan past his thatched roof, barn and hedges without taking them with us.
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