Our good friends Mike and Sylvia (Harrogate) have a nephew, James, who lives in Amsterdam with his Dutch partner Brenda. We had tried in vain to contact them on both occasions when we passed through Amsterdam but our latest effort met with success. As it turns out James’ parents, Richard and Jean have been holidaying here for a week so they all drove up to Krommenie and we had a jolly time and went out for dinner together.
It really was an excellent evening (so good in fact that we completely forgot to take any pictures for you all) and at 11 o’clock we said goodbye outside the restaurant as they got into their car to head off to Amsterdam in one direction, and we got onto our bikes to head off back ‘home’ in the other.
Louise suggested we ought to switch our bike lights on which we tried to do. Hers worked OK but Alex’s seemed not to be operational. Whilst riding, he looked over his shoulder to see if the back light was working but he failed to observe a stumpy bollard in his path! By the time he looked forward again it was too late. Crash! Over the handlebars he went. On picking himself up he noticed the middle finger of his left hand was at 45 degrees to normal. Broken, he thought at first, but in fact a quick realignment with the other hand showed it had only been dislocated as it popped back into place.
So the next day a few scrapes, bruises and a very sore finger or two, but most important of all, the beloved BIKE IS OK!
For an easy day of rest and recuperation (!) we decided to cycle the 13 km to Purmerend (near which we had moored a few weeks ago) because we knew the library offered free wi-fi and also because we happened to like very much what we had seen so far, even in the pouring rain!
As it turns out, the central square, which we had missed last time, was the jewel in its crown. We had a relaxed lunch at a café in the SUN (thought we would never see that again this year) then we made our way to the library and sure enough the wi-fi worked, so we were able to spend a couple of hours catching up on emails and posting the blog using our own English ‘speaking’ lap top.
The only downside was that on our return the wind which had blown us all the way there was now against us and strengthened for the return journey. But a super little tea and cakes ‘café’ run by an elderly lady in her side garden half way home almost made up for that. (The house dates from 1670!)
Of course, to cap it all, Alex’s front brake cable (right) had to break as we set off from the little café, and as the right one is the only brake he can use at the moment because the other hand is too tender, we had to swap bikes. Louise is convinced this was all a ploy. After a very long day in the saddle, Alex just wanted to finish the journey on her bike because the saddle is far more comfortable!
The finger is looking very swollen now so it’s out with the ibuprofens, but he’s being very brave.
Thursday 28 August 2008
22.08.08 Zaanse Schaans
When we were at school, many years ago, we were taught all about the Industrial Revolution in the ealry 1800s and how Great Britain led the world in all things mechanical etc.
What we were not taught, was that some 200 years earlier one Cornelis Cornelisz fitted a crank shaft to the rotating shaft of a windmill, a saw blade to the crank journal, and thus invented the first reciprocating saw mill. On the bigger mills, several sets of blades could be operated simultaneously and at its best 80 logs of 300mm diameter and about 10m in length could be sawn into planks in one day!
He tried to sell his idea to the burgers of Amsterdam but had problems with the unions who feared for the men’s livelihoods (yes even then) so he set up north of Amsterdam in the Zaan region instead.
Within a few decades there were more than 1000 windmills in this area alone supplying the ship building industry. They were building the ships so fast that they had a stockpile of finished ones for sale. About 200 of these mills were sawmills, whilst the rest ranged from mills for grinding corn, mustard, pounding linseeds into oil, de-husking maize and coffee, peeling barley, producing dyes and so on.
So this industrial revolution led the world way before ours did, but when ours did take off the Dutch windmills began to be replaced by steam and eventually diesel and electric power.
We rode our bikes to this area where there are about a dozen mills left and some beautiful old streets of houses. We looked round the re-built sawmill and the linseed oil mill – both quite fascinating. When the centuries-old sawmill, Het Jong Scheap, looked as if it would have to be demolished in the early 1940s, a teacher, clearly a man with an abiding passion for windmills, measured and made detailed notes of every possible item in the mill. From these notes, architects’ drawings were produced so that eventually, much later in 2005, The Windmill Society of the Zaan region was able to re-build the entire mill exactly as it had been and now runs it on a daily basis with the help of volunteers. (Sadly, the man with the foresight to note the dimensions of the mill died in the 80s and never saw the result of his extraordinary feat.)
Within the complex there were workshops showcasing many of the old skills, and though it may sound a bit naff, we watched clogs being made using 100 year old machinery. A video showed how they had been made using the old hand tools. We were fascinated, although we did draw the line at buying 2 pairs of clogs! Memories of those truly dreadful Scholl sandals we both owned years ago come flooding back, though people do say that clogs are comfortable.
Anyway, it made a truly wonderful day out and has re-inspired Alex regarding owning a windmill! In fact, in view of the detailed plans which the schoolteacher drew up, he asked if the Het Jong Scheap project sold a DIY build-your-own windmill kit , but sadly, no. A missed opportunity without a doubt!
What we were not taught, was that some 200 years earlier one Cornelis Cornelisz fitted a crank shaft to the rotating shaft of a windmill, a saw blade to the crank journal, and thus invented the first reciprocating saw mill. On the bigger mills, several sets of blades could be operated simultaneously and at its best 80 logs of 300mm diameter and about 10m in length could be sawn into planks in one day!
He tried to sell his idea to the burgers of Amsterdam but had problems with the unions who feared for the men’s livelihoods (yes even then) so he set up north of Amsterdam in the Zaan region instead.
Within a few decades there were more than 1000 windmills in this area alone supplying the ship building industry. They were building the ships so fast that they had a stockpile of finished ones for sale. About 200 of these mills were sawmills, whilst the rest ranged from mills for grinding corn, mustard, pounding linseeds into oil, de-husking maize and coffee, peeling barley, producing dyes and so on.
So this industrial revolution led the world way before ours did, but when ours did take off the Dutch windmills began to be replaced by steam and eventually diesel and electric power.
We rode our bikes to this area where there are about a dozen mills left and some beautiful old streets of houses. We looked round the re-built sawmill and the linseed oil mill – both quite fascinating. When the centuries-old sawmill, Het Jong Scheap, looked as if it would have to be demolished in the early 1940s, a teacher, clearly a man with an abiding passion for windmills, measured and made detailed notes of every possible item in the mill. From these notes, architects’ drawings were produced so that eventually, much later in 2005, The Windmill Society of the Zaan region was able to re-build the entire mill exactly as it had been and now runs it on a daily basis with the help of volunteers. (Sadly, the man with the foresight to note the dimensions of the mill died in the 80s and never saw the result of his extraordinary feat.)
Within the complex there were workshops showcasing many of the old skills, and though it may sound a bit naff, we watched clogs being made using 100 year old machinery. A video showed how they had been made using the old hand tools. We were fascinated, although we did draw the line at buying 2 pairs of clogs! Memories of those truly dreadful Scholl sandals we both owned years ago come flooding back, though people do say that clogs are comfortable.
Anyway, it made a truly wonderful day out and has re-inspired Alex regarding owning a windmill! In fact, in view of the detailed plans which the schoolteacher drew up, he asked if the Het Jong Scheap project sold a DIY build-your-own windmill kit , but sadly, no. A missed opportunity without a doubt!
21.08.08 Day Trip to Schagen
We were just finishing breakfast at about 9 o’clock when our ‘mooring host’ Mrs Aari (Harma) appeared at the side of the boat to ask if we would like to accompany them to Schagen, a town about 15 miles north of here, where a traditional historical display was to be performed. They would be leaving in about 15 minutes. (Harma had knocked on the boat earlier but got no reply – we had thought we heard something but at that moment felt disinclined to investigate.)
So we all piled into their little Yaris and were in Schagen for about 10.30 – time for a coffee and cake supplied by the good ladies of the church and a quick look at the setting up of the whole affair – stands, crowd barriers, horse course (see later) etc. It was all very jolly as we hope you can see from the photos though we had little luck managing to get good pictures of the more active parts of the day. We separated from our hosts agreeing to meet up later, which meant we could do our own thing – go up the church tower of course, wander round the extensive street market, buy more cheese (!) buy saddlebags for the second bike and then watch the parade.
The townsfolk put on this display (unpaid) every Thursday for ten weeks in the summer, and they have a range of topics apparently which they cover in alternate weeks. This week it happened to be ‘horses’, so the parade was wonderful, horses and carts, horses pulling splendid carriages, tiny Shetland ponies pulling children’s carts, a fire engine horse-pulled and so on. In between were whole families pushing babies in 19th century prams and everyone, babies included, dressed in traditional clothes. The men all wore black suits and hats, the women wore wonderful floor length, up to the neck dresses or suits and their very particular caps, white lace with what looked like a sort of solid plastic (!?) half moon round the back and all clipped together with gold or brass bulldog clips, for want of a better description! It was wonderful.
After the parade came the ‘spiking of the rings’ contest. At four points on the edge of the ‘course’ (which was the road all round the church) a pole was set up with a 2 foot long horizontal arm on the top. On this outstretched arm, which overhung the course, hung a 50mm (2") ring held by a magnet. The horses trotted round pulling the carts and carriages while a passenger in each one attempted to spike the 4 metal rings and remove them from their holdings. All this was greeted with much merriment as most of the crowd seemed to know the participants really well. We had managed to secure pole position, literally, at a café table where we had lunch while we watched.
It seems from what we have seen that the Dutch are determined to maintain the old crafts and way of life so that they are never forgotten. We do have such events in England of course, but here, they seem to be much more a part of everyday life.
It was a lovely day and many thanks must go to Aari and Harma for their kindness in including us in their own day out.
So we all piled into their little Yaris and were in Schagen for about 10.30 – time for a coffee and cake supplied by the good ladies of the church and a quick look at the setting up of the whole affair – stands, crowd barriers, horse course (see later) etc. It was all very jolly as we hope you can see from the photos though we had little luck managing to get good pictures of the more active parts of the day. We separated from our hosts agreeing to meet up later, which meant we could do our own thing – go up the church tower of course, wander round the extensive street market, buy more cheese (!) buy saddlebags for the second bike and then watch the parade.
The townsfolk put on this display (unpaid) every Thursday for ten weeks in the summer, and they have a range of topics apparently which they cover in alternate weeks. This week it happened to be ‘horses’, so the parade was wonderful, horses and carts, horses pulling splendid carriages, tiny Shetland ponies pulling children’s carts, a fire engine horse-pulled and so on. In between were whole families pushing babies in 19th century prams and everyone, babies included, dressed in traditional clothes. The men all wore black suits and hats, the women wore wonderful floor length, up to the neck dresses or suits and their very particular caps, white lace with what looked like a sort of solid plastic (!?) half moon round the back and all clipped together with gold or brass bulldog clips, for want of a better description! It was wonderful.
After the parade came the ‘spiking of the rings’ contest. At four points on the edge of the ‘course’ (which was the road all round the church) a pole was set up with a 2 foot long horizontal arm on the top. On this outstretched arm, which overhung the course, hung a 50mm (2") ring held by a magnet. The horses trotted round pulling the carts and carriages while a passenger in each one attempted to spike the 4 metal rings and remove them from their holdings. All this was greeted with much merriment as most of the crowd seemed to know the participants really well. We had managed to secure pole position, literally, at a café table where we had lunch while we watched.
It seems from what we have seen that the Dutch are determined to maintain the old crafts and way of life so that they are never forgotten. We do have such events in England of course, but here, they seem to be much more a part of everyday life.
It was a lovely day and many thanks must go to Aari and Harma for their kindness in including us in their own day out.
Monday 25 August 2008
20.08.08 Amsterdam Again
We left our mooring on the Riekerplas in good time (9.30ish) partly to avoid the harbourmaster and partly because we were up anyway, and set off towards Amsterdam to go through on the other route this time (i.e. not via the Amstel which we had done on our first visit three weeks ago).
The first thing you come to having gone under the rail and motorway bridges (high enough for us to pass under) is the lock with sideways sliding gates. Here we paid our E16.25 which gave us passage through the fourteen bridges on this route plus three days’ moorings. We thought it worth asking the lockkeeper where he thought a boat of our size might be able to moor but his answer ‘The Six Haven’ which you’ll remember we had ruled out as just impossible for us, showed he clearly hadn’t a clue about the wider aspects of his job! But we knew that we could return to the museum harbour and hopefully, it being a Monday, we reckoned on it not being full.
So we made it without incident to the ‘other side’ of Amsterdam through about 10 lift bridges and 4 fixed but high enough bridges, and headed out onto the Nooordzee Kanal, turning right towards the museum harbour. We noticed, among hoards of other big barges what looked like a police launch, sort of on our tail! So Louise went abaft to see if they really were heading for us, and to talk to them if they were. They said they wanted to come aboard, donned their life jackets and asked us to slow down a bit. So we obliged and with their boat nudging Riccall’s starboard rear deck two of them (one middle-aged, one younger) then clambered over our rail onto the back deck!
They were polite and pleasant and introduced themselves as immigration officers – complete with guns (in holsters). We shook hands all round and they said they didn’t see many barges of our type flying a British flag in Holland. We said, nor did we! They asked a few questions, looked at the passports then left. Cor! What a palaver. But I suppose they’re only doing their job and to be fair they couldn’t have been nicer, but you really wouldn’t consider gunrunning or drug importing in a Sheffield barge as distinctive as ours, now would you? But then of course, they didn’t check below, so perhaps we were! But what excitement. Watching them clumsily transfer themselves back onto their own launch we did wonder how many times they fall in, in the pursuit of their objectives!
So we continued on our way and are now back in the museum harbour and we have been to a museum! Yes, a museum! We decided the only way to put in an atrocious afternoon of weather was to find somewhere interesting and inside. It was much the same as every other museum (as ever) but the guidebook sold it to us on the basis that it provided a very good insight into the history and development of Amsterdam which it did and we spent two hours on it.
//
Today we went to the market on Albert Cuypstraat – an ordinary everyday market where apparently bargains are to be had. As with all markets, the truth is that the punters are the ones being had! However we bought some strawberries – lovely on top, all going rotten underneath – and various other bits and pieces as you do.
In the afternoon, on the pretext of visiting the area where independent shops, cafes and galleries abound, Louise suddenly remembered reading that there was a Dutch barge which had been converted for living aboard, which was open to the public and which had been closed on our other visits. And look! There it is right on the other side of the canal, right here. (Louise protests – it was entirely coincidental.)
So Alex negotiated a discount on the basis that the owner could look round Riccall for free later in the evening if he’d like to (!!!!!) and an interesting couple of hours was spent talking to the owner and looking at pictures of other conversions and at the barge itself. (The owner didn’t take up the offer to look at Riccall but he did charge us only half price – and complimented Alex by saying he must be a Dutchman!! Alex was most gratified.
Here is another point. There are virtually no public loos in Amsterdam or indeed Holland, as those of you who have visited will no doubt have noticed. So when you need one, you say, ‘OK, we’ll go to a café and have a cup of coffee/tea and use theirs’. Fine. One hour later, it’s the same all over again. It’s a set-up! The locals all go home or to their place of work. We visitors are on a treadmill – café, pee, café, pee all day! And if you do find a public convenience it’s 50 cents. Spend a penny? Inflation or what! We can now get back to Riccall from almost anywhere in Amsterdam in 20 mins flat!
So here for a few days and then ‘home’ to Krommenie.
The first thing you come to having gone under the rail and motorway bridges (high enough for us to pass under) is the lock with sideways sliding gates. Here we paid our E16.25 which gave us passage through the fourteen bridges on this route plus three days’ moorings. We thought it worth asking the lockkeeper where he thought a boat of our size might be able to moor but his answer ‘The Six Haven’ which you’ll remember we had ruled out as just impossible for us, showed he clearly hadn’t a clue about the wider aspects of his job! But we knew that we could return to the museum harbour and hopefully, it being a Monday, we reckoned on it not being full.
So we made it without incident to the ‘other side’ of Amsterdam through about 10 lift bridges and 4 fixed but high enough bridges, and headed out onto the Nooordzee Kanal, turning right towards the museum harbour. We noticed, among hoards of other big barges what looked like a police launch, sort of on our tail! So Louise went abaft to see if they really were heading for us, and to talk to them if they were. They said they wanted to come aboard, donned their life jackets and asked us to slow down a bit. So we obliged and with their boat nudging Riccall’s starboard rear deck two of them (one middle-aged, one younger) then clambered over our rail onto the back deck!
They were polite and pleasant and introduced themselves as immigration officers – complete with guns (in holsters). We shook hands all round and they said they didn’t see many barges of our type flying a British flag in Holland. We said, nor did we! They asked a few questions, looked at the passports then left. Cor! What a palaver. But I suppose they’re only doing their job and to be fair they couldn’t have been nicer, but you really wouldn’t consider gunrunning or drug importing in a Sheffield barge as distinctive as ours, now would you? But then of course, they didn’t check below, so perhaps we were! But what excitement. Watching them clumsily transfer themselves back onto their own launch we did wonder how many times they fall in, in the pursuit of their objectives!
So we continued on our way and are now back in the museum harbour and we have been to a museum! Yes, a museum! We decided the only way to put in an atrocious afternoon of weather was to find somewhere interesting and inside. It was much the same as every other museum (as ever) but the guidebook sold it to us on the basis that it provided a very good insight into the history and development of Amsterdam which it did and we spent two hours on it.
//
Today we went to the market on Albert Cuypstraat – an ordinary everyday market where apparently bargains are to be had. As with all markets, the truth is that the punters are the ones being had! However we bought some strawberries – lovely on top, all going rotten underneath – and various other bits and pieces as you do.
In the afternoon, on the pretext of visiting the area where independent shops, cafes and galleries abound, Louise suddenly remembered reading that there was a Dutch barge which had been converted for living aboard, which was open to the public and which had been closed on our other visits. And look! There it is right on the other side of the canal, right here. (Louise protests – it was entirely coincidental.)
So Alex negotiated a discount on the basis that the owner could look round Riccall for free later in the evening if he’d like to (!!!!!) and an interesting couple of hours was spent talking to the owner and looking at pictures of other conversions and at the barge itself. (The owner didn’t take up the offer to look at Riccall but he did charge us only half price – and complimented Alex by saying he must be a Dutchman!! Alex was most gratified.
Here is another point. There are virtually no public loos in Amsterdam or indeed Holland, as those of you who have visited will no doubt have noticed. So when you need one, you say, ‘OK, we’ll go to a café and have a cup of coffee/tea and use theirs’. Fine. One hour later, it’s the same all over again. It’s a set-up! The locals all go home or to their place of work. We visitors are on a treadmill – café, pee, café, pee all day! And if you do find a public convenience it’s 50 cents. Spend a penny? Inflation or what! We can now get back to Riccall from almost anywhere in Amsterdam in 20 mins flat!
So here for a few days and then ‘home’ to Krommenie.
18.08.08 West and South of Amsterdam
There have been many aspects of this country during the last few months which have seemed totally alien to us although we are beginning to come to terms with many of them, but the way in which the bridges and locks are operated is one example – absolutely no standardisation whatsoever. In some cases the opening happens totally without any discourse at all, in others you have to radio ahead, in some you have to telephone! And the fishermen actually wave to us! This is a most welcome first! Until today!
We set off at 11.00 am from our moorings south of Haarlem heading towards Amsterdam West. Within half a kilometre there is a section where the canal opens out into a wide stretch of water, but our map said the wide area was only 1 metre deep, so we made sure we stuck to the edge where the deeper line of the canal was.
The first fisherman gesticulated for us to move away. Alex replied with ‘lack of depth’ signals which were accepted. The third fisherman got very agitated indeed making similar gesticulations, and ending up by hurling a cricket-ball-sized ‘rock’ at us. Well, it was a damned good shot – hit the middle window of the wheelhouse, but did not break it. It turned out to have been a lump of his bread and grubs bait! But a nasty experience nonetheless. The only consolation is that fishermen are in the main the same throughout the E.U. – surly bastards! Quite like being at home in the UK really! Louise got the binos out quickly to make a note of his car registration number. He didn’t like that, and tried to stand in front of the car – but too late, we have it. Whether we do anything about it is doubtful, I guess. After all, we can only move at 6mph and retribution may follow.
When we consulted our navigation programme we discovered that although we might get through the first bridge by 12 o’clock, the rest would be non-operational until 4pm (short hours on Sundays). OK – so at the next bridge we moored up for a long lunch at 12.30pm. But hey! – we have unlocked wi-fi available What luck! So after lunch Alex can reply to emails and post our latest blog, while Louise undercoats the external toolboxes. Three and a half hours pass in a flash!
The possible mooring we were aiming for in the Riekerplas, south of Amsterdam, sadly doesn’t exist, but we have moored on the edge of a yachthaven where, we are assured, the usual ‘mooree’ has been away for a while and probably won’t be back tonight. If we get off in good time tomorrow morning, the harbourmaster might not get to us in time to charge us for the water we have used and the night’s stay. Get that alarm on Louise!
We set off at 11.00 am from our moorings south of Haarlem heading towards Amsterdam West. Within half a kilometre there is a section where the canal opens out into a wide stretch of water, but our map said the wide area was only 1 metre deep, so we made sure we stuck to the edge where the deeper line of the canal was.
The first fisherman gesticulated for us to move away. Alex replied with ‘lack of depth’ signals which were accepted. The third fisherman got very agitated indeed making similar gesticulations, and ending up by hurling a cricket-ball-sized ‘rock’ at us. Well, it was a damned good shot – hit the middle window of the wheelhouse, but did not break it. It turned out to have been a lump of his bread and grubs bait! But a nasty experience nonetheless. The only consolation is that fishermen are in the main the same throughout the E.U. – surly bastards! Quite like being at home in the UK really! Louise got the binos out quickly to make a note of his car registration number. He didn’t like that, and tried to stand in front of the car – but too late, we have it. Whether we do anything about it is doubtful, I guess. After all, we can only move at 6mph and retribution may follow.
When we consulted our navigation programme we discovered that although we might get through the first bridge by 12 o’clock, the rest would be non-operational until 4pm (short hours on Sundays). OK – so at the next bridge we moored up for a long lunch at 12.30pm. But hey! – we have unlocked wi-fi available What luck! So after lunch Alex can reply to emails and post our latest blog, while Louise undercoats the external toolboxes. Three and a half hours pass in a flash!
The possible mooring we were aiming for in the Riekerplas, south of Amsterdam, sadly doesn’t exist, but we have moored on the edge of a yachthaven where, we are assured, the usual ‘mooree’ has been away for a while and probably won’t be back tonight. If we get off in good time tomorrow morning, the harbourmaster might not get to us in time to charge us for the water we have used and the night’s stay. Get that alarm on Louise!
Sunday 17 August 2008
16.08.08 From Krommenie to Haarlem
We’re on the move again. The rain has stopped, the wind has dropped to a tolerable breeze and we are off to Haarlem.
The last time Alex was in Haarlem was 37 years ago! … (He was actually in Haarlem, for about one hour, on a whistle stop tour, in the back of a rubber-band-driven Daf, driven at break-neck speed (though this is well nigh impossible in a Daf) by friends of friends living in Amsterdam. (Nothing whatsoever remembered!)
So this time, do it properly! We had a lovely trip down to the beginning of the 8 bridges of Haarlem where we were told to pay the toll for passage at the Harbourmaster’s cabin before we could proceed – E8.25.
We twiddled about a bit in the strengthening wind but moored up and paid up, then proceeded through the next 4 bridges easily, and hoped to be able to moor there for a couple of days. We hove to briefly on a quay reserved for hotel boats while we surveyed the scene, but no room anywhere – again. Then we spotted a small yacht leaving the opposite quayside, so we cast off and made a beeline for the space vacated. In his enthusiasm Alex just ever so slightly misjudged the wind and his approach, and found himself with the rear end of Riccall fast approaching (sideways) a small cruiser. A swift choice to be made – hit the quay with the front end – hard – or hit the cruiser with the back end – hard. So – we hit with the front end. Then full opposite lock, forward power, then back into full reverse to avoid the yacht in front! Oh well, no damage done, no bricks out of the quay, no crockery on the floor in Riccall, and most importantly it seems no-one but us noticed! (We know you’re all asking – is this man safe to be let loose?)
Haarlem is about 15 minutes by train from Amsterdam and about 15 light years away from it in style, feel and ambiance. For a start, it’s on a river which twists and turns its way through the heart of the town with a few canals cutting the corners and squaring up the meanders. The canal and river streets are much wider than in Amsterdam but the interconnecting streets are much narrower. Amsterdam’s canal system is almost wholly man-made and radiates from a central point which is now the railway station – in a series of ever increasing semi-circles, with interlinking canals. Haarlem as a town is smaller, easier-going and less frenetic than the capital but still so picturesque.
Haarlem’s Grote Kerk with its 5000 pipe organ is a must, especially when the organ is being played as it was on our visit, but we were disappointed not to be able to climb the tower. This is allowed on only two days a year – the 13th and 14th of September when we are back in the UK!
However, we did go to the open-air section of the restaurant at the top of the V & D department store, built in art nouveau style in the 1920s which gave us an excellent bird’s eye view of the city, complete with the birds! Jackdaws and seagulls have become so tame that they hover above you while you ‘enjoy’ your meal!
As usual, on this trip, we had arrived in town during a special event. This time a Jazz Festival, so in the evening we walked around the several stages soaking up the various styles of jazz on offer: from the smaller three piece way-out stuff to the larger, more trad style with a huge ensemble of players and the usual solo slots for trumpet, sax, trombone, bassoon etc. The organisers were a bit on edge as the previous strong winds had destroyed the marquee for the main event and a smaller one with many pegs and guy ropes had had to be erected in double quick time!
However, the mood was jolly and the drinks cheap. In our case free – as we didn’t know the form and the bartender couldn’t be bothered to explain in English that you needed tokens for drinks which you bought from a different location, so we got our first drinks for free and we didn’t leave till well after midnight.
The next day we had a last ride round Haarlem: the fantastic flower market, cup of coffee in the Groen Markt and a quick look at the almshouses for the elderly, built in 1395!
I am sure there will be people out there saying, ‘What about all the museums, art galleries etc?’ Well, I’m sorry, but we generally don’t do these (seen one, you’ve seen them all – Alex) except for specialist interest items: viz - the Mona Lisa in Paris a few years ago which turned out to be such a disappointment. When we get to Den Haag, however, Louise is determined to see in the ‘flesh’ ‘Girl with a Pearl Earring’ by Vermeer, which we have on our wall both at home and on Riccall. But apart from that …
We got through the next three bridges of Haarlem without incident and then at the last bridge the bridge-keeper (female) comes out of her cabin and gesticulates to us to hurry up and indicates the gap we had left between us and the two boats in front. How the hell we can be expected to keep up with a couple of gin palaces, each with 350 HP and weighing about 20 tons, when we only have 120 HP to push 75 tons I do not know, and obviously neither did she!
Onward and we soon turned left onto the Ringvaart van Haarlemmermeerpolder (!!!!)
Here we have a found a nice free mooring on the canal-side from which we have been on two bike trips. The first just round the nearby lake, but the second was to appease Louise’s love of all things aeroplane related. We have been plagued (Alex) or blessed (Louise) for the last three weeks as we have skirted Schipol by planes landing and taking off virtually overhead. Thus to runway No 4 at Schipol airport which is being used today for 90% of landings. It is about 45 minutes from here by bike and when we got there we found a huge car park, complete with snack bar for all the other plane-spotting saddos! Actually, although it was a pleasant warm Saturday, the place was only 20% occupied, but we did get to see the steady stream of landings at ninety second intervals from the parallel bike track which runs about 50m from the runway so you could choose to see anything from touchdown to final taxiing into the terminal. There were people with step ladders to get a better view, state of the art cameras, camcorders and not forgetting the short-wave radios to pick up pilot-speak, and even whole families with kids, loungers, picnics, the whole she-bang! Weird! We are here once in a lifetime but some of them are probably here every week, if not everyday. We decided it was probably so that they would be on the spot in case of disaster with photos, video (and sound probably) to sell to the media! (Cynical or what?)
The last time Alex was in Haarlem was 37 years ago! … (He was actually in Haarlem, for about one hour, on a whistle stop tour, in the back of a rubber-band-driven Daf, driven at break-neck speed (though this is well nigh impossible in a Daf) by friends of friends living in Amsterdam. (Nothing whatsoever remembered!)
So this time, do it properly! We had a lovely trip down to the beginning of the 8 bridges of Haarlem where we were told to pay the toll for passage at the Harbourmaster’s cabin before we could proceed – E8.25.
We twiddled about a bit in the strengthening wind but moored up and paid up, then proceeded through the next 4 bridges easily, and hoped to be able to moor there for a couple of days. We hove to briefly on a quay reserved for hotel boats while we surveyed the scene, but no room anywhere – again. Then we spotted a small yacht leaving the opposite quayside, so we cast off and made a beeline for the space vacated. In his enthusiasm Alex just ever so slightly misjudged the wind and his approach, and found himself with the rear end of Riccall fast approaching (sideways) a small cruiser. A swift choice to be made – hit the quay with the front end – hard – or hit the cruiser with the back end – hard. So – we hit with the front end. Then full opposite lock, forward power, then back into full reverse to avoid the yacht in front! Oh well, no damage done, no bricks out of the quay, no crockery on the floor in Riccall, and most importantly it seems no-one but us noticed! (We know you’re all asking – is this man safe to be let loose?)
Haarlem is about 15 minutes by train from Amsterdam and about 15 light years away from it in style, feel and ambiance. For a start, it’s on a river which twists and turns its way through the heart of the town with a few canals cutting the corners and squaring up the meanders. The canal and river streets are much wider than in Amsterdam but the interconnecting streets are much narrower. Amsterdam’s canal system is almost wholly man-made and radiates from a central point which is now the railway station – in a series of ever increasing semi-circles, with interlinking canals. Haarlem as a town is smaller, easier-going and less frenetic than the capital but still so picturesque.
Haarlem’s Grote Kerk with its 5000 pipe organ is a must, especially when the organ is being played as it was on our visit, but we were disappointed not to be able to climb the tower. This is allowed on only two days a year – the 13th and 14th of September when we are back in the UK!
However, we did go to the open-air section of the restaurant at the top of the V & D department store, built in art nouveau style in the 1920s which gave us an excellent bird’s eye view of the city, complete with the birds! Jackdaws and seagulls have become so tame that they hover above you while you ‘enjoy’ your meal!
As usual, on this trip, we had arrived in town during a special event. This time a Jazz Festival, so in the evening we walked around the several stages soaking up the various styles of jazz on offer: from the smaller three piece way-out stuff to the larger, more trad style with a huge ensemble of players and the usual solo slots for trumpet, sax, trombone, bassoon etc. The organisers were a bit on edge as the previous strong winds had destroyed the marquee for the main event and a smaller one with many pegs and guy ropes had had to be erected in double quick time!
However, the mood was jolly and the drinks cheap. In our case free – as we didn’t know the form and the bartender couldn’t be bothered to explain in English that you needed tokens for drinks which you bought from a different location, so we got our first drinks for free and we didn’t leave till well after midnight.
The next day we had a last ride round Haarlem: the fantastic flower market, cup of coffee in the Groen Markt and a quick look at the almshouses for the elderly, built in 1395!
I am sure there will be people out there saying, ‘What about all the museums, art galleries etc?’ Well, I’m sorry, but we generally don’t do these (seen one, you’ve seen them all – Alex) except for specialist interest items: viz - the Mona Lisa in Paris a few years ago which turned out to be such a disappointment. When we get to Den Haag, however, Louise is determined to see in the ‘flesh’ ‘Girl with a Pearl Earring’ by Vermeer, which we have on our wall both at home and on Riccall. But apart from that …
We got through the next three bridges of Haarlem without incident and then at the last bridge the bridge-keeper (female) comes out of her cabin and gesticulates to us to hurry up and indicates the gap we had left between us and the two boats in front. How the hell we can be expected to keep up with a couple of gin palaces, each with 350 HP and weighing about 20 tons, when we only have 120 HP to push 75 tons I do not know, and obviously neither did she!
Onward and we soon turned left onto the Ringvaart van Haarlemmermeerpolder (!!!!)
Here we have a found a nice free mooring on the canal-side from which we have been on two bike trips. The first just round the nearby lake, but the second was to appease Louise’s love of all things aeroplane related. We have been plagued (Alex) or blessed (Louise) for the last three weeks as we have skirted Schipol by planes landing and taking off virtually overhead. Thus to runway No 4 at Schipol airport which is being used today for 90% of landings. It is about 45 minutes from here by bike and when we got there we found a huge car park, complete with snack bar for all the other plane-spotting saddos! Actually, although it was a pleasant warm Saturday, the place was only 20% occupied, but we did get to see the steady stream of landings at ninety second intervals from the parallel bike track which runs about 50m from the runway so you could choose to see anything from touchdown to final taxiing into the terminal. There were people with step ladders to get a better view, state of the art cameras, camcorders and not forgetting the short-wave radios to pick up pilot-speak, and even whole families with kids, loungers, picnics, the whole she-bang! Weird! We are here once in a lifetime but some of them are probably here every week, if not everyday. We decided it was probably so that they would be on the spot in case of disaster with photos, video (and sound probably) to sell to the media! (Cynical or what?)
Thursday 14 August 2008
14.08.08 Moored up at Krommenie
“... With a hey ho the wind and the rain ...
For the rain it raineth every day”
(Feste – Twelfth Night) are we in Illyria or what (you will)
The weather here in Holland is again atrocious: wind, rain and set-in grey skies. We gather that it is pretty much the same in England – no change there then.
However, we noticed, after we had first moored here on Sunday, that the floating platform which we had so narrowly avoided on our way in, had spray-painted writing on it which Louise translated as ‘20m for rent’.
Never one to hang about, Alex spoke to the young man in the houseboat behind us (though chic, picture windowed, floating two-storey house would be a better description) and was told that ‘our’ mooring belonged to the house opposite and that the old people living there were rather difficult.
So with some trepidation Alex went the next day to talk to them with a view to our mooring for a few weeks.
‘Aari’ (Harry?) turned out to be as nice as you could want, and the upshot of the long conversation covering boats, batteries, generators and moorings was that:
yes we can moor on his moorings
no the friend to whom it had been promised would not need it after all
until the end of September
yes we could have it for 8 weeks and
no he couldn’t possibly take any payment from us of any kind!
Result or what?! (though we do feel bad about not paying anything after such kindness).
Added to that, the water and electricity available only yards away is provided by the local council for free (well apparently they can’t be bothered to mend the coin slot operation).
So, we have a place to moor for the next 8 weeks where we can come and go (with or without boat) as we please, and where we can guarantee to be able to take on water and fully recharge the batteries which are beginning to show signs of weakness. Most importantly though, we can leave the boat for 2 weeks in comparative safety while we return to GB. This means that we don’t have to plan in a dash to Dordrecht for those two weeks and can look around more in this area.
By the way, the comment made by the houseboat dweller re Ari being difficult, may have had something to do with the fact that the houseboat’s little dinghy is moored illegally and slightly overlapping Ari’s own mooring and perhaps words have been said on that subject between them!
If we could just access the wi-fi which is in the vicinity, but firmly locked, we would have it all! As it is, it is still a bit of a business trying to get onto the internet and our last effort at the library was only partially successful, as we were able to upload our written blog but not the photographs. We’ll be trying again to post the latest pictures from our trek north from Amsterdam to Krommenie when we can.
For the rain it raineth every day”
(Feste – Twelfth Night) are we in Illyria or what (you will)
The weather here in Holland is again atrocious: wind, rain and set-in grey skies. We gather that it is pretty much the same in England – no change there then.
However, we noticed, after we had first moored here on Sunday, that the floating platform which we had so narrowly avoided on our way in, had spray-painted writing on it which Louise translated as ‘20m for rent’.
Never one to hang about, Alex spoke to the young man in the houseboat behind us (though chic, picture windowed, floating two-storey house would be a better description) and was told that ‘our’ mooring belonged to the house opposite and that the old people living there were rather difficult.
So with some trepidation Alex went the next day to talk to them with a view to our mooring for a few weeks.
‘Aari’ (Harry?) turned out to be as nice as you could want, and the upshot of the long conversation covering boats, batteries, generators and moorings was that:
yes we can moor on his moorings
no the friend to whom it had been promised would not need it after all
until the end of September
yes we could have it for 8 weeks and
no he couldn’t possibly take any payment from us of any kind!
Result or what?! (though we do feel bad about not paying anything after such kindness).
Added to that, the water and electricity available only yards away is provided by the local council for free (well apparently they can’t be bothered to mend the coin slot operation).
So, we have a place to moor for the next 8 weeks where we can come and go (with or without boat) as we please, and where we can guarantee to be able to take on water and fully recharge the batteries which are beginning to show signs of weakness. Most importantly though, we can leave the boat for 2 weeks in comparative safety while we return to GB. This means that we don’t have to plan in a dash to Dordrecht for those two weeks and can look around more in this area.
By the way, the comment made by the houseboat dweller re Ari being difficult, may have had something to do with the fact that the houseboat’s little dinghy is moored illegally and slightly overlapping Ari’s own mooring and perhaps words have been said on that subject between them!
If we could just access the wi-fi which is in the vicinity, but firmly locked, we would have it all! As it is, it is still a bit of a business trying to get onto the internet and our last effort at the library was only partially successful, as we were able to upload our written blog but not the photographs. We’ll be trying again to post the latest pictures from our trek north from Amsterdam to Krommenie when we can.
Monday 11 August 2008
10.08.08 Krommenie
On the Noords Hollandsche Kanal
Our bicycle trip into the village of Krommenie on Saturday started with some excitement, as we had to use a self-propelled ferry to cross the canal! At first these things look rather complicated but as usual when you get to know them, they turn out to be very simple.
(Alex explains!) There are two chains each slightly longer than the width of the canal. One end of each chain is attached through a winding box to one end of the floating platform (4 feet by 8 feet and the other end through a winding box to each shore. All four winding boxes allow the chain to run free until it reaches the end unless you stand on a footplate which locks the chain to the winding wheel. Thus if the ferry is at the far side of the canal you stand on the footplate of the winding box on the bank and wind it across to you. You then get onto the platform – and all the other passengers, if any – you stand on the footplate of the winding box for the far side and wind yourself across. Meanwhile, the chain behind you is being pulled back out of the shore winding box. Geddit?! Simple really. If somebody is waiting at the far side, they can speed your crossing by winding with their shore box as well (so the chain is being pulled from both ends).
On our first crossing, being novices, we were encouraged by a guy on the far bank who told us not to try and rush it ‘when you are on holiday’ you have to take it ‘slow and steady’.
On our third crossing a whole group of jovial middle-aged cyclists on the far side were telling us to speed up and then began singing what was obviously some sort of Dutch winding chant! (or perhaps a wind up chant!). Their singing was so infectious that we joined in ourselves. La, la, la!
However, on the way to the village we noticed a leccy point with a water point beside it, and about enough room to moor Riccall. So on Sunday when we felt we really should not overstay our welcome on the commercial quay any longer, we set off in a howling wind with bleaching rain to see if the mooring was still free. It was, and Louise managed (somehow) to lasso one of the mushroom pins on the first attempt and we squeezed into the gap with only a metre at each end. At the back was just a floating wooden platform but at the front was somebody’s pride and joy, a very crushable jelly mould of a boat! We were just so very glad the owner wasn't around, although our mooring was pretty impeccable to any observer, if we say so ourselves! (More by luck than design on this occasion however.)
So for one night at least we have power and water. Both seem to be dispensed by coin normally but it all seems to work without! So we have done three clothes’ washes, one dishwash and filled the water tank to overflowing. Goodness knows how much the Havenmeester will charge us when he comes round on his boat in the morning!
By the way, great though all this travelling is, it’s still lovely to hear from anyone at home who happens to dip into this blog, so keep those comments coming! It does encourage the scribblings.
Our bicycle trip into the village of Krommenie on Saturday started with some excitement, as we had to use a self-propelled ferry to cross the canal! At first these things look rather complicated but as usual when you get to know them, they turn out to be very simple.
(Alex explains!) There are two chains each slightly longer than the width of the canal. One end of each chain is attached through a winding box to one end of the floating platform (4 feet by 8 feet and the other end through a winding box to each shore. All four winding boxes allow the chain to run free until it reaches the end unless you stand on a footplate which locks the chain to the winding wheel. Thus if the ferry is at the far side of the canal you stand on the footplate of the winding box on the bank and wind it across to you. You then get onto the platform – and all the other passengers, if any – you stand on the footplate of the winding box for the far side and wind yourself across. Meanwhile, the chain behind you is being pulled back out of the shore winding box. Geddit?! Simple really. If somebody is waiting at the far side, they can speed your crossing by winding with their shore box as well (so the chain is being pulled from both ends).
On our first crossing, being novices, we were encouraged by a guy on the far bank who told us not to try and rush it ‘when you are on holiday’ you have to take it ‘slow and steady’.
On our third crossing a whole group of jovial middle-aged cyclists on the far side were telling us to speed up and then began singing what was obviously some sort of Dutch winding chant! (or perhaps a wind up chant!). Their singing was so infectious that we joined in ourselves. La, la, la!
However, on the way to the village we noticed a leccy point with a water point beside it, and about enough room to moor Riccall. So on Sunday when we felt we really should not overstay our welcome on the commercial quay any longer, we set off in a howling wind with bleaching rain to see if the mooring was still free. It was, and Louise managed (somehow) to lasso one of the mushroom pins on the first attempt and we squeezed into the gap with only a metre at each end. At the back was just a floating wooden platform but at the front was somebody’s pride and joy, a very crushable jelly mould of a boat! We were just so very glad the owner wasn't around, although our mooring was pretty impeccable to any observer, if we say so ourselves! (More by luck than design on this occasion however.)
So for one night at least we have power and water. Both seem to be dispensed by coin normally but it all seems to work without! So we have done three clothes’ washes, one dishwash and filled the water tank to overflowing. Goodness knows how much the Havenmeester will charge us when he comes round on his boat in the morning!
By the way, great though all this travelling is, it’s still lovely to hear from anyone at home who happens to dip into this blog, so keep those comments coming! It does encourage the scribblings.
08.08.08 From Amsterdam onto the Noords Hollandsche Kanal
08.08.08 From Amsterdam onto the Noords Hollandsche Kanal
We left North Amsterdam for a leisurely trip northwards on the Noords Hollandsche Kanal – big enough to take us easily but rural and hopefully a pleasant change from the hectic city.
Ready to set off with the engine warmed up, into the lock before us went a commercial barge. We thought as it entered that there would be no room for us as well, so we decided to wait and take the next lock. As it turned out, by the time he had moored to the side we realised we could easily have gone in alongside: these locks are so huge here!
We caught up the commercial 100 metres beyond the lock where he was waiting for a series of bridges to open. We dived ahead, because Riccall could just fit under them, but then they all started to open for the big boy anyway, so we felt a bit guilty for stealing a march on him. Not only that, but there was another commercial just out of sight waiting to come through from the other side, but by that time we were committed, so he had to wait for us! A bit embarrassing, but neither of the captains shook his fist at us – just gave the usual cheery wave we seem to elicit from the commercial craft.
A couple of hours later the commercial caught us up again and we let him past into the next lock - in what looked like a lovely town - Purmerend - then nestled in alongside. We complimented each other on our boats (as you do!) then he told us to go on ahead as he was mooring up just outside the lock. We carried on for about 2k and found a small length of clearly unused loading quay to which we could moor.
Purmerend was a nice town with internet available at the library, a railway station and a good shopping centre and we resolved to investigate further and ride to Edam, 1½ hours away, the next day.
However the next day it rained and rained with barely a long enough break at midday for a quick trip to town to buy essential mosquito netting. We spent the rest of the miserable afternoon constructing nets to fit perfectly into the portholes so that they could be open for fresh air but could be closed with the nets in place, when necessary. We still ended up with two of the little beggars biting us to bits in the middle of the night. (You know they have done their worst when you swat them and they leave all your own blood on the wall!) We think they must have got in in the short time while we were fitting the new window coverings.
A passing motorist stopped his car later that afternoon to tell us there were good moorings about 10k further on complete with all mod cons – electricity and water, showers etc. So in the morning we moved on as it was still raining and we had abandoned the Edam trip as just impossible.
Although it was kind of the motorist to try to help us out, of course the moorings did not have electricity (although they were quite inexpensive), but interestingly had the very first pump-out facility we have seen so far – in over two months of boating in Holland. This is indeed interesting, as another boater told us that all Dutch boats must stop putting black water into the canals (as they do at present) and use holding tanks and pump out facilities, by 2009! That means there are going to have to be an awful lot of pump-out units installed in the next 4 months, but at least to encourage people to use them, they only cost 50 cents (45p) as against £10 in GB!
At about lunchtime we turned off the main canal and through the binos Louise spotted a commercial quay with a space at the end, with bollards and without a “No Mooring” sign, so we stopped for lunch. Further enquiries revealed that no-one had any objection to our staying overnight. Yippee!
From here we also get a great view of tall ships and enormous hotel boats and restaurant boats passing on the main canal line.
It’s Friday night so with any luck the place will be deserted throughout the weekend. We may even spend two nights!
We left North Amsterdam for a leisurely trip northwards on the Noords Hollandsche Kanal – big enough to take us easily but rural and hopefully a pleasant change from the hectic city.
Ready to set off with the engine warmed up, into the lock before us went a commercial barge. We thought as it entered that there would be no room for us as well, so we decided to wait and take the next lock. As it turned out, by the time he had moored to the side we realised we could easily have gone in alongside: these locks are so huge here!
We caught up the commercial 100 metres beyond the lock where he was waiting for a series of bridges to open. We dived ahead, because Riccall could just fit under them, but then they all started to open for the big boy anyway, so we felt a bit guilty for stealing a march on him. Not only that, but there was another commercial just out of sight waiting to come through from the other side, but by that time we were committed, so he had to wait for us! A bit embarrassing, but neither of the captains shook his fist at us – just gave the usual cheery wave we seem to elicit from the commercial craft.
A couple of hours later the commercial caught us up again and we let him past into the next lock - in what looked like a lovely town - Purmerend - then nestled in alongside. We complimented each other on our boats (as you do!) then he told us to go on ahead as he was mooring up just outside the lock. We carried on for about 2k and found a small length of clearly unused loading quay to which we could moor.
Purmerend was a nice town with internet available at the library, a railway station and a good shopping centre and we resolved to investigate further and ride to Edam, 1½ hours away, the next day.
However the next day it rained and rained with barely a long enough break at midday for a quick trip to town to buy essential mosquito netting. We spent the rest of the miserable afternoon constructing nets to fit perfectly into the portholes so that they could be open for fresh air but could be closed with the nets in place, when necessary. We still ended up with two of the little beggars biting us to bits in the middle of the night. (You know they have done their worst when you swat them and they leave all your own blood on the wall!) We think they must have got in in the short time while we were fitting the new window coverings.
A passing motorist stopped his car later that afternoon to tell us there were good moorings about 10k further on complete with all mod cons – electricity and water, showers etc. So in the morning we moved on as it was still raining and we had abandoned the Edam trip as just impossible.
Although it was kind of the motorist to try to help us out, of course the moorings did not have electricity (although they were quite inexpensive), but interestingly had the very first pump-out facility we have seen so far – in over two months of boating in Holland. This is indeed interesting, as another boater told us that all Dutch boats must stop putting black water into the canals (as they do at present) and use holding tanks and pump out facilities, by 2009! That means there are going to have to be an awful lot of pump-out units installed in the next 4 months, but at least to encourage people to use them, they only cost 50 cents (45p) as against £10 in GB!
At about lunchtime we turned off the main canal and through the binos Louise spotted a commercial quay with a space at the end, with bollards and without a “No Mooring” sign, so we stopped for lunch. Further enquiries revealed that no-one had any objection to our staying overnight. Yippee!
From here we also get a great view of tall ships and enormous hotel boats and restaurant boats passing on the main canal line.
It’s Friday night so with any luck the place will be deserted throughout the weekend. We may even spend two nights!
Tuesday 5 August 2008
02.08.08 Amsterdam
Amsterdam is a city which you have to give time to, to let it get under your skin. It is a different city now from the one Alex remembers 37 years ago – but only in that it has modernised and moved with the times. It is still an open city, forward thinking, with friendly people, a sense of fun and any excuse for a party. You have to lock your bike and keep your wallet hidden of course but generally it doesn’t feel like a threatening place.
The first time Alex and Louise came to Amsterdam was by Jet2 for the day in 1997. It turned out to be the Queen of Holland’s birthday – a national holiday. Everyone wore orange, and we mean everyone! All the trams were off and the whole of Amsterdam was having a street party and a canal party. And, it kept raining.
The second time, in 2004, it was March and freezing cold (5oC) so the whole time was spent hopping from café to café to museum to keep warm and back to the airport for our evening meal!
This time, instead of orange for the Queen’s birthday, it is pink for the Gay Pride weekend. Natural justice for Alex I suppose!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Louise) Same sort of thing – street party, canal party, no trams, pink just everywhere, and as it turns out, rain! But what a scene! Hopefully the pics will give some idea.
The all-important library is about 1km from the boat. Apparently it moved a year ago from the far side of town – which was where we looked for it, having found it on our map (a kind present from Sylvia and Michael for Alex’s birthday 4 years ago!) to close to our mooring near the Central Station! Not exactly a wasted journey, as you see so much as you go, on a bike.
This iconic building is eight storeys high with a café on the 7th floor with a fabulous selection of food to choose from and an outside veranda with wonderful views of the harbours. On the other floors are, of course, books and videos, but also computer terminals by the hundred. There are sections for your wi-fi laptop, sections with Mac computers, sections with Microsoft computers, sections with USB ports, sections with dedicated library computers etc etc. All free for anyone, resident or visitor alike – just amazing. What a facility!
But – guess what? After hours of trying we could not get our laptop to connect to the wi-fi (blocked by Windows firewall apparently) so we had to use a USB portal computer on the 5th floor to post our blog. So the blog is finally happily posted, but Jamie will have to wait (for security reasons) to have his birthday present transferred into his bank until we can use our own machine!!
Meanwhile the search for a mooring with water and electricity goes on. If we are not on the move we need electricity and we always need water about once a week. Both of these commodities are as few and far between as the moorings themselves here in Holland! But it does give us a goal.
We took the free ferry to Amsterdam North to a yacht harbour – the Six Haven – to see if it might suit. No! As we watched the plastic yachts backing out of the dog-leg entrance, and saw that inside they were moored three deep, we knew it was not for us. So, back over the Het Ij to the Westderdok, but all here was residential. ‘Home’ for lunch via the Historic Museum Harbourmaster’s office for advice.
The afternoon was spent, in the rain, touring round the exteriors of the various landmarks we had ticked off as essential to visit - No 7 Singel, the narrowest house in Amsterdam, just the width of a front door, Herengracht for the ‘swankiest’ houses, coffee in a café while it poured a couple of churches and The Beginhof – a hidden enclave of wonderful houses, some dating from the 1300s (see pics) reserved for single ladies of the city (no, the other single ladies!). Historically, they were for women who wanted to serve the community but did not want to live as nuns. Nowadays, they are reserved for single women on low incomes. Just unbelievable – an oasis of calm in a city of frenetic activity.
Then for a complete contrast we went through the Red Light District – not much ‘doing’ as a Sunday! Then we still had time to go back via the free ferry to North Amsterdam to sus out the further suggestions of the Harbourmaster. Both turned out to be no good but we did happen upon a most delightful village - -at one of the possible mooring places within North Amsterdam. Photos hardly do justice to a truly lovely area, but here they are. Back to base for 6.30pm. (We don’t half pack it in when we are on song!)
Finally we ventured out on to the Het Ij ourselves in search of the elusive water and electricity. Hours later and having trooped up and down the Het Ij, we eventually we found that we could get both diesel and (free) water at a bunker station. So we did that, and then moored up for a hopefully quiet and free night outside the lock onto the North Hollandsche Canal where we travel next, and the travelling will help to top up the batteries.
The first time Alex and Louise came to Amsterdam was by Jet2 for the day in 1997. It turned out to be the Queen of Holland’s birthday – a national holiday. Everyone wore orange, and we mean everyone! All the trams were off and the whole of Amsterdam was having a street party and a canal party. And, it kept raining.
The second time, in 2004, it was March and freezing cold (5oC) so the whole time was spent hopping from café to café to museum to keep warm and back to the airport for our evening meal!
This time, instead of orange for the Queen’s birthday, it is pink for the Gay Pride weekend. Natural justice for Alex I suppose!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Louise) Same sort of thing – street party, canal party, no trams, pink just everywhere, and as it turns out, rain! But what a scene! Hopefully the pics will give some idea.
The all-important library is about 1km from the boat. Apparently it moved a year ago from the far side of town – which was where we looked for it, having found it on our map (a kind present from Sylvia and Michael for Alex’s birthday 4 years ago!) to close to our mooring near the Central Station! Not exactly a wasted journey, as you see so much as you go, on a bike.
This iconic building is eight storeys high with a café on the 7th floor with a fabulous selection of food to choose from and an outside veranda with wonderful views of the harbours. On the other floors are, of course, books and videos, but also computer terminals by the hundred. There are sections for your wi-fi laptop, sections with Mac computers, sections with Microsoft computers, sections with USB ports, sections with dedicated library computers etc etc. All free for anyone, resident or visitor alike – just amazing. What a facility!
But – guess what? After hours of trying we could not get our laptop to connect to the wi-fi (blocked by Windows firewall apparently) so we had to use a USB portal computer on the 5th floor to post our blog. So the blog is finally happily posted, but Jamie will have to wait (for security reasons) to have his birthday present transferred into his bank until we can use our own machine!!
Meanwhile the search for a mooring with water and electricity goes on. If we are not on the move we need electricity and we always need water about once a week. Both of these commodities are as few and far between as the moorings themselves here in Holland! But it does give us a goal.
We took the free ferry to Amsterdam North to a yacht harbour – the Six Haven – to see if it might suit. No! As we watched the plastic yachts backing out of the dog-leg entrance, and saw that inside they were moored three deep, we knew it was not for us. So, back over the Het Ij to the Westderdok, but all here was residential. ‘Home’ for lunch via the Historic Museum Harbourmaster’s office for advice.
The afternoon was spent, in the rain, touring round the exteriors of the various landmarks we had ticked off as essential to visit - No 7 Singel, the narrowest house in Amsterdam, just the width of a front door, Herengracht for the ‘swankiest’ houses, coffee in a café while it poured a couple of churches and The Beginhof – a hidden enclave of wonderful houses, some dating from the 1300s (see pics) reserved for single ladies of the city (no, the other single ladies!). Historically, they were for women who wanted to serve the community but did not want to live as nuns. Nowadays, they are reserved for single women on low incomes. Just unbelievable – an oasis of calm in a city of frenetic activity.
Then for a complete contrast we went through the Red Light District – not much ‘doing’ as a Sunday! Then we still had time to go back via the free ferry to North Amsterdam to sus out the further suggestions of the Harbourmaster. Both turned out to be no good but we did happen upon a most delightful village - -at one of the possible mooring places within North Amsterdam. Photos hardly do justice to a truly lovely area, but here they are. Back to base for 6.30pm. (We don’t half pack it in when we are on song!)
Finally we ventured out on to the Het Ij ourselves in search of the elusive water and electricity. Hours later and having trooped up and down the Het Ij, we eventually we found that we could get both diesel and (free) water at a bunker station. So we did that, and then moored up for a hopefully quiet and free night outside the lock onto the North Hollandsche Canal where we travel next, and the travelling will help to top up the batteries.
02.08.08 Gravel Wharf, de Hoef, to Amsterdam
We gradually realised that perhaps one way to make sure we could find a mooring for the night was to find one when everybody else was just leaving! So we regretfully left de Hoef (the gravel wharf) at about 9.30 am and started looking out for something at 11 o’clock. Sure enough, at 11.30 we did spot a vacant place at the side of the canal. We managed to moor up OK but it was obvious by the size of the tiny mooring rings that it was not designed for a boat of our size. Added to that, there was no route off to any civilisation whatever – only a small patch to exercise (toilet) your dog, next to cow-infested fields! At this stage we were also looking for the all-important internet access to keep all our billions of readers informed, otherwise we might well have risked staying put and pulling all the rings out if a commercial went past!
So we had lunch (we always have lunch at times of crisis) and regretfully plodded on, knowing that every minute we were getting closer and closer to the unknown horrors (delights?) of Amsterdam. The first bridge we came to on the outskirts, which needed to be raised to let us through appeared to be unmanned. A call on the VHF elicited no response. Then we spotted through the binos the top of a head in the window of the control room. Another hail on the VHF – no response. “Hello brug, are you receiving, over?” A response came, “Oh, sorry, caller, I did not recognise by your English accent that you were calling my bridge, I will open it now”!!!!!!!!!!! “Thank you, out.”
One down; who knows how many more to go? Amsterdam is just full of bridges.
The next bridge was 50 cms higher than us - easy! The next 10 cms higher – very tense! The next 30mm higher than our solar panels, so very, very tight and potentially very expensive – too much for Louise, “No more bridges like that, please: we must have them opened” she said.
It was now 4 o’clock and we discovered that there is a break in bridge opening for rush hour between 4pm and 6pm and 8am and 9am in the morning. So we looked for somewhere to stop and eventually parked on a ‘double yellow line’ before the next un-openable bridge – they paint them on the water, you know!
Alex went off on his bike to see if he could find a better place to moor, asking permanent live-aboards etc and even the lockkeeper. No luck. He even went for a half hour ride to the Museum Harbour but failed to find the Harbourmaster. So hot, exhausted and fed up he got back to Riccall and the decision was made to stay put regardless of regulations and to expect a knock on the door any time from the Politie!
Next day, (after yet another slightly tense night, during which every boat, small or large, in Amsterdam paraded up and down the Amstel until two in the morning) we set off to go through the next 7 bridges and a lock to get to the Museum Harbour.
We knew the first bridge was OK but our Noodersoft computer programme failed to give the dimensions of the 2nd bridge so we were not going to attempt that unless it was opened for us. A VHF call to the bridge operator whose reply in agitated Dutch told us that there was a problem with something and further instructions again in Dutch. Not able to understand, we drifted around for a bit until we noticed a large hotel boat looming up from behind followed by a 45 foot privately owned tugboat. At the same time two of the lockkeeper staff came up in their launch to explain to these idiot English that Yes! we could follow the two bigger boats. Thank goodness. So we followed them round the bends and through the bridges to the Museum Harbour where the hotel boat disappeared and the tugboat and Riccall moored up.
Hans and Leo from the tugboat turned out to be a couple of old friends in their late 60s who were travelling for a couple of weeks without their wives! They explained to us how the system worked, complemented us on our mooring (that must be a first, but it was very windy, so perhaps somewhat deserved) and later Hans kindly took Alex all the way to the Harbourmaster’s office to sort out our mooring fees (three days E16.20 – very reasonable). So we have three days of legitimate mooring in the middle of Amsterdam for only E16.20!!
The first time Alex and Louise came to Amsterdam was by Jet2 for the day. It turned out to be the Queen of Holland’s birthday – a national holiday. Everyone wears orange, and we mean everyone! All the trams were off and the whole of Amsterdam was having a street party and a canal party. And, it kept raining.
The second time it was freezing cold (7o F) so the whole time was spent hopping from café to café to museum to keep warm!
This time, instead of orange for the Queen’s birthday, it is pink for the Gay Pride weekend. Natural justice for Alex I suppose!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Louise) Same sort of thing – street party, canal party, no trams, pink just everywhere, and as it turns out, rain! But what a scene! Hopefully the pics will give some idea.
The library is about 1km from the boat. Apparently it moved a year ago from the far side of town – which was where we looked for it, having found it on our map (a kind present from Sylvia and Michael for Alex’s birthday all those years ago!) to close to our mooring near the Central Station!
This iconic building is eight storeys high with a café on the 7th floor with a fabulous selection of food to choose from and an outside veranda with wonderful views of the harbours. On the other floors are, of course, books and videos, but also computer terminals by the hundred. There are sections for your wi-fi laptop, sections with Mac computers, sections with Microsoft computers, sections with USB ports, sections with dedicated library computers etc etc. All free for anyone– just amazing. What a facility!
But – guess what? After hours of trying we could not get our laptop to connect to the wi-fi (blocked by Windows firewall apparently) so we had to use a USB portal computer on the 5th floor to post our blog. So the blog is finally happily posted, but Jamie will have to wait (for security reasons) to have his birthday present transferred into his bank until we can use our own machine!!
So we had lunch (we always have lunch at times of crisis) and regretfully plodded on, knowing that every minute we were getting closer and closer to the unknown horrors (delights?) of Amsterdam. The first bridge we came to on the outskirts, which needed to be raised to let us through appeared to be unmanned. A call on the VHF elicited no response. Then we spotted through the binos the top of a head in the window of the control room. Another hail on the VHF – no response. “Hello brug, are you receiving, over?” A response came, “Oh, sorry, caller, I did not recognise by your English accent that you were calling my bridge, I will open it now”!!!!!!!!!!! “Thank you, out.”
One down; who knows how many more to go? Amsterdam is just full of bridges.
The next bridge was 50 cms higher than us - easy! The next 10 cms higher – very tense! The next 30mm higher than our solar panels, so very, very tight and potentially very expensive – too much for Louise, “No more bridges like that, please: we must have them opened” she said.
It was now 4 o’clock and we discovered that there is a break in bridge opening for rush hour between 4pm and 6pm and 8am and 9am in the morning. So we looked for somewhere to stop and eventually parked on a ‘double yellow line’ before the next un-openable bridge – they paint them on the water, you know!
Alex went off on his bike to see if he could find a better place to moor, asking permanent live-aboards etc and even the lockkeeper. No luck. He even went for a half hour ride to the Museum Harbour but failed to find the Harbourmaster. So hot, exhausted and fed up he got back to Riccall and the decision was made to stay put regardless of regulations and to expect a knock on the door any time from the Politie!
Next day, (after yet another slightly tense night, during which every boat, small or large, in Amsterdam paraded up and down the Amstel until two in the morning) we set off to go through the next 7 bridges and a lock to get to the Museum Harbour.
We knew the first bridge was OK but our Noodersoft computer programme failed to give the dimensions of the 2nd bridge so we were not going to attempt that unless it was opened for us. A VHF call to the bridge operator whose reply in agitated Dutch told us that there was a problem with something and further instructions again in Dutch. Not able to understand, we drifted around for a bit until we noticed a large hotel boat looming up from behind followed by a 45 foot privately owned tugboat. At the same time two of the lockkeeper staff came up in their launch to explain to these idiot English that Yes! we could follow the two bigger boats. Thank goodness. So we followed them round the bends and through the bridges to the Museum Harbour where the hotel boat disappeared and the tugboat and Riccall moored up.
Hans and Leo from the tugboat turned out to be a couple of old friends in their late 60s who were travelling for a couple of weeks without their wives! They explained to us how the system worked, complemented us on our mooring (that must be a first, but it was very windy, so perhaps somewhat deserved) and later Hans kindly took Alex all the way to the Harbourmaster’s office to sort out our mooring fees (three days E16.20 – very reasonable). So we have three days of legitimate mooring in the middle of Amsterdam for only E16.20!!
The first time Alex and Louise came to Amsterdam was by Jet2 for the day. It turned out to be the Queen of Holland’s birthday – a national holiday. Everyone wears orange, and we mean everyone! All the trams were off and the whole of Amsterdam was having a street party and a canal party. And, it kept raining.
The second time it was freezing cold (7o F) so the whole time was spent hopping from café to café to museum to keep warm!
This time, instead of orange for the Queen’s birthday, it is pink for the Gay Pride weekend. Natural justice for Alex I suppose!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Louise) Same sort of thing – street party, canal party, no trams, pink just everywhere, and as it turns out, rain! But what a scene! Hopefully the pics will give some idea.
The library is about 1km from the boat. Apparently it moved a year ago from the far side of town – which was where we looked for it, having found it on our map (a kind present from Sylvia and Michael for Alex’s birthday all those years ago!) to close to our mooring near the Central Station!
This iconic building is eight storeys high with a café on the 7th floor with a fabulous selection of food to choose from and an outside veranda with wonderful views of the harbours. On the other floors are, of course, books and videos, but also computer terminals by the hundred. There are sections for your wi-fi laptop, sections with Mac computers, sections with Microsoft computers, sections with USB ports, sections with dedicated library computers etc etc. All free for anyone– just amazing. What a facility!
But – guess what? After hours of trying we could not get our laptop to connect to the wi-fi (blocked by Windows firewall apparently) so we had to use a USB portal computer on the 5th floor to post our blog. So the blog is finally happily posted, but Jamie will have to wait (for security reasons) to have his birthday present transferred into his bank until we can use our own machine!!
Saturday 2 August 2008
30.07.08 Gouda to de Hoef
So we left Gouda and travelled north for a while in the main “fixed mast” route (i.e. for yachts of whatever size which want to keep their masts up throughout their cruise to their sailing ground), but at the first junction we turned off onto the Oude Rijn, on a detour which would take us as deep into Dutch countryside as you could get. Our first stop was outside a house on a stretch of quiet canal with little or no commercial traffic. We asked the lady householder if it would be OK to stop and she said she was sure it would be fine. It turned out that she was Dutch born, now living permanently in New Zealand with her young son, and was just visiting her mother.
The mooring turned out to be a little noisier than expected, due to the roaring traffic on the canalside roads – mopeds, motorbikes, cars, lorries, tractors etc, etc. but it was safe and otherwise undisturbed – or at least it was until 2a.m., when the drawers and wardrobe doors started to pop open one by one with a whoosh. We knew at once that it meant we had gone aground – again!! and the boat was now listing to port sufficiently to release the stops.
The river level had dropped, but Alex decided that 2am was not the time to start the engine and try to pull us off. So after an inadequate night’s ‘sleep’ and a rather tense early breakfast we reversed off with, as it turned out, no difficulty at all and we were free! (Yes, yes, we know – ‘never reverse’ – but in this instance we knew the water behind us was deep!)
Next we turned into the Grecht Canal which was the smallest we have been on so far; design size 5m x 30m (we are 4.8 x 19) so a tight fit in locks and through bridges.
It was a pretty shallow throughout but very quiet and rural, with dead straight, parallel drainage channels going off from the main canal every 10 or 20 metres. Water, water everywhere. On the map it looked like someone had been doing coarse buttonhole stitching (in blue) all up the canal. After some hours of this gentle plodding we longed to find somewhere to stop for the night, but every available spot, suitable or otherwise, had been taken. Eventually we stopped on a very flimsy café mooring and for the price of two cups of coffee (and an ice cream pancake!) and a long chat with the proprietor, we discovered that the local sand and gravel supplier, not 100 yards away, was closed for the annual two-week holiday and his normal barge traffic would also not be arriving. Our informant assured us that Herr de Rooij would probably not mind if we moored on his wharf. He did not, and we did!
It has taken us well over a week since our last posting from Dordrecht to find internet access – one of the disadvantages of the country route! In fact, while we were moored on the de Rooji’s wharf, we cycled five miles to the local village and asked there in the café for directions to the library. Having eventually found the library, we discovered it was due to close in 5 minutes and didn’t have internet access anyway, but they said they thought the café we had just left, did!!! By this time we had also found a shop, were loaded up with groceries and just couldn’t face dragging this heavy load back to the café.
Gouda 23/28.07.08
At the touch of the key, the customary cloud of blue smoke issued forth and the Gardner 6LX burst into life. The even thrum was music to their ears!! A quick request on Channel 74 and the bridge would be opened in the next 10 minutes – perfect timing for the engine to warm up and the ropes and fenders to be removed. Thus the continuation of the voyage of Riccall began after a stop of three weeks (!!!) at the beautiful and beguiling Dordrecht.
Our last sightseeing must was Dordrecht’s Grote Kerk (abbey?) with its 275 steps leading up to the top of the highest landmark for miles around – albeit it Pisa style, leaning by some 2½ metres at the top. You could really feel it too as you climbed the steps – easier in one direction, a really hard pull in the other! The view from the top was amazing, showing in graphic detail how Dordrecht had originally been an island, reclaimed from the rivers Oude Maas, Noord and Merwede to form the historic heart of the present day city. The temptation to spend even longer there was incredibly strong, but onwards and upwards we must go.
The journey to the outskirts of Gouda was uneventful, even if most of it was on a tidal stretch of river, but eventually it was nice to get into the tranquillity and security of a non-tidal canal. We moored for the night on moorings which we later realised were reserved for vessels using the lock – but we managed to overcome that concern! Did feel a bit guilty though as the “big boys” went slowly past looking for that last space, which we had snaffled.
The mooring seemed as rural and quiet as you could hope for. In the field next to us was an array of cockerels and hens, kids and goats, Shetland ponies and horses, turkeys, geese and sheep with lambs, in a kind of menagerie someone has set up at the very end of a lane.
//
At least it was a rural idyll until the following day when the local yobbos decided that the spot beside us was a good place to park to play their obnoxious rap music from their seriously HUGE car music systems – mostly in Dutch but with the unmistakeable “mother f….r” on every other line!
We decided to move on and managed our best yet in terms of lack of achievement – 1½ kilometres took us 3 hours!! – including difficulty turning round to set off because of a constant stream of boats, large and small, heading for the festival, and then later mooring up against very strong winds.
We had decided against trying to moor in Gouda itself this time, as there will be about 180 historic sailing barges taking up all the available space during this special weekend. We were assured that if we turned up as an historic English barge unannounced and unbooked we would very probably be allowed in, but we decided that we would feel such “outsiders” that we would give it a miss and try on the way back from the north, when the place would be empty and we would be hopefully be welcomed with open arms!
However, we are now on official free moorings, unlimited time and 20 mins by bike from Gouda central where we can go to see all these historic tjalks in their original setting.
//
The scene in Gouda is amazing – full blown sea shanty stuff, with demonstrations of how the old machinery used to work, how the people lived, and in one place three old guys in clogs frying battered fish on little wood burning stoves – 2E per stuk (piece) for our lunch – and several groups of guys in striped singlets and clogs barging up and down the canals singing sea shanties. For those who know the Hull Sea Shanty, Gouda is the mother of all sea shanties!
There were people in clogs talking about their old barges, and people (in clogs) in big barges and little tiny fishing barges and even toddlers in clogs. In fact, you could hardly move there were so many people in clogs – hence the expression “everything was clogged up” I suppose. (Alex) (Bet you saw that coming! - Louise)
Alex tried smoked eel but Louise couldn’t fancy it (slimy, slippery stuff). Alex thought it was OK but it is eaten from a sheet of paper with fingers – just impossible to get rid of the smell from your hands afterwards despite the water with lemon wedges provided for the purpose of washing.
And yes – we did buy some cheese!
In the evening and back at our mooring, as we watched the next batch of tall masts going through the opened railway bridge, we came across our first and so far only other English boat in Holland. Rob and his son Michael not only come from Yorkshire, but from Harrogate, and not only that, but from Cornwall Road - just 200 yards up the road from our own Cornwall Road house! So we shared a bottle of wine that night on their yacht and gave them some stores when they dropped by the next morning before setting off back to England.
We are ourselves now setting off from Gouda to move north towards Amsterdam but just when this blog will be posted is open to question as usual!
The mooring turned out to be a little noisier than expected, due to the roaring traffic on the canalside roads – mopeds, motorbikes, cars, lorries, tractors etc, etc. but it was safe and otherwise undisturbed – or at least it was until 2a.m., when the drawers and wardrobe doors started to pop open one by one with a whoosh. We knew at once that it meant we had gone aground – again!! and the boat was now listing to port sufficiently to release the stops.
The river level had dropped, but Alex decided that 2am was not the time to start the engine and try to pull us off. So after an inadequate night’s ‘sleep’ and a rather tense early breakfast we reversed off with, as it turned out, no difficulty at all and we were free! (Yes, yes, we know – ‘never reverse’ – but in this instance we knew the water behind us was deep!)
Next we turned into the Grecht Canal which was the smallest we have been on so far; design size 5m x 30m (we are 4.8 x 19) so a tight fit in locks and through bridges.
It was a pretty shallow throughout but very quiet and rural, with dead straight, parallel drainage channels going off from the main canal every 10 or 20 metres. Water, water everywhere. On the map it looked like someone had been doing coarse buttonhole stitching (in blue) all up the canal. After some hours of this gentle plodding we longed to find somewhere to stop for the night, but every available spot, suitable or otherwise, had been taken. Eventually we stopped on a very flimsy café mooring and for the price of two cups of coffee (and an ice cream pancake!) and a long chat with the proprietor, we discovered that the local sand and gravel supplier, not 100 yards away, was closed for the annual two-week holiday and his normal barge traffic would also not be arriving. Our informant assured us that Herr de Rooij would probably not mind if we moored on his wharf. He did not, and we did!
It has taken us well over a week since our last posting from Dordrecht to find internet access – one of the disadvantages of the country route! In fact, while we were moored on the de Rooji’s wharf, we cycled five miles to the local village and asked there in the café for directions to the library. Having eventually found the library, we discovered it was due to close in 5 minutes and didn’t have internet access anyway, but they said they thought the café we had just left, did!!! By this time we had also found a shop, were loaded up with groceries and just couldn’t face dragging this heavy load back to the café.
Gouda 23/28.07.08
At the touch of the key, the customary cloud of blue smoke issued forth and the Gardner 6LX burst into life. The even thrum was music to their ears!! A quick request on Channel 74 and the bridge would be opened in the next 10 minutes – perfect timing for the engine to warm up and the ropes and fenders to be removed. Thus the continuation of the voyage of Riccall began after a stop of three weeks (!!!) at the beautiful and beguiling Dordrecht.
Our last sightseeing must was Dordrecht’s Grote Kerk (abbey?) with its 275 steps leading up to the top of the highest landmark for miles around – albeit it Pisa style, leaning by some 2½ metres at the top. You could really feel it too as you climbed the steps – easier in one direction, a really hard pull in the other! The view from the top was amazing, showing in graphic detail how Dordrecht had originally been an island, reclaimed from the rivers Oude Maas, Noord and Merwede to form the historic heart of the present day city. The temptation to spend even longer there was incredibly strong, but onwards and upwards we must go.
The journey to the outskirts of Gouda was uneventful, even if most of it was on a tidal stretch of river, but eventually it was nice to get into the tranquillity and security of a non-tidal canal. We moored for the night on moorings which we later realised were reserved for vessels using the lock – but we managed to overcome that concern! Did feel a bit guilty though as the “big boys” went slowly past looking for that last space, which we had snaffled.
The mooring seemed as rural and quiet as you could hope for. In the field next to us was an array of cockerels and hens, kids and goats, Shetland ponies and horses, turkeys, geese and sheep with lambs, in a kind of menagerie someone has set up at the very end of a lane.
//
At least it was a rural idyll until the following day when the local yobbos decided that the spot beside us was a good place to park to play their obnoxious rap music from their seriously HUGE car music systems – mostly in Dutch but with the unmistakeable “mother f….r” on every other line!
We decided to move on and managed our best yet in terms of lack of achievement – 1½ kilometres took us 3 hours!! – including difficulty turning round to set off because of a constant stream of boats, large and small, heading for the festival, and then later mooring up against very strong winds.
We had decided against trying to moor in Gouda itself this time, as there will be about 180 historic sailing barges taking up all the available space during this special weekend. We were assured that if we turned up as an historic English barge unannounced and unbooked we would very probably be allowed in, but we decided that we would feel such “outsiders” that we would give it a miss and try on the way back from the north, when the place would be empty and we would be hopefully be welcomed with open arms!
However, we are now on official free moorings, unlimited time and 20 mins by bike from Gouda central where we can go to see all these historic tjalks in their original setting.
//
The scene in Gouda is amazing – full blown sea shanty stuff, with demonstrations of how the old machinery used to work, how the people lived, and in one place three old guys in clogs frying battered fish on little wood burning stoves – 2E per stuk (piece) for our lunch – and several groups of guys in striped singlets and clogs barging up and down the canals singing sea shanties. For those who know the Hull Sea Shanty, Gouda is the mother of all sea shanties!
There were people in clogs talking about their old barges, and people (in clogs) in big barges and little tiny fishing barges and even toddlers in clogs. In fact, you could hardly move there were so many people in clogs – hence the expression “everything was clogged up” I suppose. (Alex) (Bet you saw that coming! - Louise)
Alex tried smoked eel but Louise couldn’t fancy it (slimy, slippery stuff). Alex thought it was OK but it is eaten from a sheet of paper with fingers – just impossible to get rid of the smell from your hands afterwards despite the water with lemon wedges provided for the purpose of washing.
And yes – we did buy some cheese!
In the evening and back at our mooring, as we watched the next batch of tall masts going through the opened railway bridge, we came across our first and so far only other English boat in Holland. Rob and his son Michael not only come from Yorkshire, but from Harrogate, and not only that, but from Cornwall Road - just 200 yards up the road from our own Cornwall Road house! So we shared a bottle of wine that night on their yacht and gave them some stores when they dropped by the next morning before setting off back to England.
We are ourselves now setting off from Gouda to move north towards Amsterdam but just when this blog will be posted is open to question as usual!
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