He that writes to himself writes to an eternal public. -Emerson

Friday, August 24, 2018

To Ameland


Above, our route, by bike, from Amsterdam to Enkhuizen, from which we took a ferry to Stavoren, and then biked further to the island of Ameland, before returning to Leeuwarden for the train trip home:


One key to the trip was this:


When you don't have to go up and down you can go on and on. Another key was wind direction: nearly always at our backs. And then there was the rain, or rather, there mostly wasn't. Perfect.

We rented a tandem for Gideon and the less fortunate parent (sometimes the one, sometimes the other) and set off, biking across the city and out into Waterland for a stop at a quaint but impossible pancake house. We eventually escaped that and began our ride in earnest, traveling north through lovely agricultural lands and along the captured sea called the IJsselmeer to a hotel in Avenhorn where we dined on something that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike Caesar salad. The next morning we detoured back to the dike along the sea, taking the long and, towards the end, quite rainy route through Hoorn to Enkhuizen. Both are lovely but the latter city is a true pearl, the most beautiful I've seen in the Netherlands, and home to both an excellent pool complex and the unmissable Zuiderzeemuseum (seriously, if you're planning to visit us, go here too, and bring us along!).

We had a great meal in Enkhuizen, stayed at an excellent hotel, and in fine weather boarded the ferry the next day. An hour in and nearly there, Gideon, who ate almost all of the french fries Felix unwisely ordered aboard, hunkers down as he does on the rare occasions he feels ill. He claims to feel fine, and only later, on dry land, admits to me that he wasn't but didn't say so because I'd commented that talking about being seasick doesn't make it better. You never know when he's listening, that one.

Upon disembarking we found ourselves in Friesland, one of the most lovely of all the Dutch provinces (though I admit I don't know of an unlovely one). We left the inland coast and headed for Wolsum, a tiny village--no grocery, no gas station, no services of any kind except for a bar open only during matches at the local keatsen field--where we stayed for two nights in a former orphanage, happy enough to have a day off after @150km riding. We explored a nearby canal by kayak, but mostly did nothing, no keatsen, no fierljeppen, no reedriden, no skûtsjesilen, nothing but a side trip for groceries, ice cream, some great sculpture, and the world's friendliest butcher (free sausage to people he will in all likelihood never see again, that's what Gid-level cute gets you).

Much recovered, or so we thought, we mounted up for the ride to Franeker, renown for its insanely great planetarium. No video projectors here, but rather scale models of the solar system, one of them built into the ceiling of one family's living room. Good thing, too: in a darkened room we'd have all fallen asleep, tuckered out as we were from the hours pedaling. Restored by some pizza and pasta we retired to our B&B, enjoyed a wonderful sunset across the fields, and awoke to boiled eggs decorated with smiley faces and wearing little woolen Frisian caps (the eggs that is, not us).

This day was to be our most adventurous of all: having eaten those adorable eggs we joined the enormous crowds traveling by train to Leeuwarden for the giants of Royal de Luxe. Perched in trees, we watched the littler girl giant and her dog wake up, take a shower, dress for the day, and head out for a stroll around the city. Worth the trouble and the crowds, it was as magical as the many Youtube films suggest, though we were not unhappy to flee the urban scene and return to our bikes.

Off again, this time to catch the ferry to Ameland. Along the way our first and only accident: Felix rode into the one rough gutter in the Netherlands, ripping a hole in his front tire. He then quite manfully pedaled another five or six km to a bike shop where we replaced tube, tire, and even his seat. Felix transported himself and his stuff some 300km on an omafiets without complaint and, indeed, with every sign of enjoyment, these few km excepted, but I think he was proudest of this stretch, as well he deserved to be. Despite this and the previous detour we still made the ferry in good time, crossed, rode a good stretch of the island, and then even further to have an excellent meal in a former school house in Hollum. Felix then added a good few extra km to the day by going off with our partner family and getting lost in the dark.

On Ameland we wandered the dunes and beaches, played Junior Monopoly and Canasta, and ate mustard soup. I love all the Dutch schiereilanden and it was nice to explore a new one, but we had scheduled back-to-back trips (I write this from Tenerife) and after three nights said farewell to our travel partners, old Dutch friends and their two girls (the latter both younger and taller than our boys). We rode back to the ferry, wormed our way across the sand flats, and had a beautiful ride to Leeuwarden, where we ate an excellent lunch, loaded our bikes on the train, and a mere two hours later were back in Amsterdam.

Here it all is in photos, again, as an Apple-generated montage. I recommend watching with sound off. Then I recommend arranging the same for yourself, say, summer 2019.



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