Noordwijk, Keukenhof, Hardenberg, Emlicheim, Tilburg to London
I would like to tell you about our last holiday we took in-between working.
Jan always said that one day he would like to travel on the bike. I always replied that it would be nice, but after a couple of trips, I wondered if it really would be nice and that “one-day” stayed at “one-day”. When I decided that I want to go see the flowers in Keukenhof, Jan announced with determination that we are going with the bike. I didn’t book the ferry with the hope that he might change his mind. I hoped it but never said it. Eventually the time comes for us to start making our bookings whilst the fire-spewing mountain threatened space on the ferry. At 10 in the evening, we made a rushed booking on the ferry – for the MOTORBIKE! I knew then that there was no turning back. The iron horse it was going to be and I needed to prepare myself.
This led to me, at 53 years of age, having to dare myself. Commands were given that there is only enough space for a few pieces of underwear and T-shirts and all bits and bobs are limited to the bare minimum because space is limited.
On a cold Tuesday morning, we hit the road. I had to quickly learn how to keep my neck tight, because if not, I would be picking it up on the other side of the road. I practiced like a master Apollo to balance my head like a globe. It helps. The view on the back of the bike simulates Mamma Africa piggybacking her baby. I can only hope to not become visually impaired once we are back in London. The wind finds the smallest hole that I did not manage to close up and it is freezing! The helmet and gloves make it impossible to wipe my nose caused by the cold air infiltrating in various spaces and I end up licking little droplets – I can’t complain about becoming thirsty.
With my legs astraddle, my inner thighs are frozen in this wide-legged position. Shortly before frostbite sets in, we stop. I attempt to climb off the bike as graciously as possible, considering the frozen position of my thighs. Then, I am off and I quickly scan to see who can’t hold back their laughs at this episode of dismounting.
After many stops, we arrive in Noordwijk and the Dutch lady’s B&B where we booked. Everything looks good until we see the steps we need to take to our room. The steps are triangles of 15˚ point by 25˚ on top of each other. This is a Health & Safety dream for critique. It looks so dangerous that Jan and I decide to check our life-insurance policies before we ascend. We made it and as we enter our room, the Dutch lady’s husband arrives home. He is a biker too and what does he do? He runs up the stairs with biker boots on as if being chased by something. The human race is truly adaptable.
We took a stroll on the beach, but the extreme cold North Pole winds ensured that we did not enjoy it one bit.
The next day, we travelled to Keukenhof to see the most beautiful garden; trees, flowers and water features. A feast for the eyes. Tulips in every colour you can think of, single, double, small, big, short, and tall, too much to take in. The orchids that come in all colours and sizes, as well as the daffodils standing with heads held high, ensured a spectacle that warms your heart – food for the soul.
That evening we dined in a restaurant in the cold street in Noordwijk, next to the ocean. Inside, the fireplace burns welcoming and we just wanted to stay there. Even though the sun still shone brightly through the windows until about 9 o’clock at night, the cold breeze was a reality to be avoided. The waiter forgot about our order and we ended up spending a lovely social evening drinking red wine on the house, courtesy of the waiter. The food was delicious and he was instantly forgiven.
The next day we went to Haarlem, north of Noordwijk on the way to Amsterdam. We see planes take off and land at Schiphol and it is strange after days of no flights because of the ash resulting from the volcano in Iceland. Haarlem is an old city with many old buildings and churches and crooked streets. We found on our journey through the city puntsak friete with Mayo and we eat until our tummies hurt. Next time we’ll be sure to share one puntsak.
Back in Noordwijk. The biking is feeling a lot more normal and the sunshine was a pleasure. It was an awesome day with no cold air trying to spoil the experience.
The next day, we hit the road to Hardenberg, much more north in Holland. We enjoy a lovely visit with Dutch family and hear all about a brave mouse who tried to give a not-so-brave aunty a heart attack. The mouse climbed four storeys to the flat’s balcony to find food. The clever mouse sadly lost his life when the boss of the house caught him in a trap.
Saturday we travelled to Emlicheim, on the lower end of Germany, to Jan’s German aunt and cousin. We took them out to dinner in Coevorden on the border of Germany and the Netherlands. This visit ended way too soon and before we knew it, we were on our way back to Tilburg, south of Holland.
Back at the B&B we meet the man of the house. He looks like a policy salesman and talks way too much. He is the type that makes you wish you never made a booking at his place. He shows us the house and asks us what we think of the place. I wanted to be blatant and tell him that my husband uses the toilet a lot through the night and those steps might cause one of us to end up in the emergency ward of the hospital. I remain polite however, and tell him it would be better if the toilet and bathroom were next to the room and not downstairs and through the kitchen. I believe they must have bought a box full of square mirrors at a boot sale and stuck it all over the walls. The room is on the first floor and the only toilet and bathroom is down the stairs and through the kitchen. The toilet is so small that you dare not try to change your mind there. I feel sorry for Jan, I don’t know how he managed that – but that is way too much information for this letter.
I tried to get rid of the man of the house as quick as possible by announcing I need to go shower. The man of the house says, “of course you are allowed to go shower”, as if I need permission to do so. In the bathroom, I encounter a truly logistical problem. The bath wall is wide and high, the space between the wall and glass of the shower is small, and my legs are very, very short. I crawl/climb over the edge of the bath and take a lovely warm shower. I only realised my real dilemma when I closed the tap. The edge of the bath is wide, as I said, but reaching from the edge down to the floor is far! The space between the wall and glass is small and I can’t fit my whole body through at once, which means that the leg staying behind threatens to shoot out from under me. I can’t call Jan, because the door is locked. I slip and slide forwards and backwards, a case of Paraguay, Holland, Paraguay, Holland, until I managed to manoeuvre myself over the edge of the bath. By now I am steaming, not from the warm shower, but because of this damn B&B. I stormed out there straight to the B&B man and he answers “oh, there is a step”. I almost lost it!
Sunday morning we ate a breakfast straight from the books, cooked by the man of the house’s Romanian wife, who is a chef. I must say, it did make amends for the horrible experience of the man’s company and the shower.
We leave early and enjoy the sunshine on the flat Netherland highways through Belgium and France. On the boat we take a breather and I must say, I feel like a typical biker and very happy with myself. At Dover, we travelled to our daughter in Faversham where we drink coffee and delicious Rhubarb Crumble with cream and a cheesecake the Englishman, her husband, baked.
Quickly we are on our way back home. Home, sweet home! Coffee with our son and family. Everything back to normal.
I hope you enjoyed travelling with us.
Greetings from London!
