We entered the Thieu, a giant lock near Thieu, Belgium. It is an elevator lock, one of two in this area. I shot this video while also managing the boat so it’s a bit rough and unedited. Be patient and you will see the lock rising. Watch the trees and other fixed objects.
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Mons, by chance
On our way to locks outside Mons we were turned back. The Elcuse Havré ‘ete en panne,’ the lock was ‘broken down’ in French, said the lock keeper. It should be fixeb bu noon Monday so we had to spend Saturday night and Sunday at the municipal harbor of Mons. It is a city with some significant delights, fortunately.
On Sunday we made for the Grande Place, the central square. It is a lined with buildings from many centuries in multiple styles, attractive nonetheless, with an oval shape center filled with flowers, sculptures and pedestrian walking zones. There are numerous bars and restaurants. Periods of sun and times without rain is enough to fill the square with locals and tourists. As normal in Belgium, there’s a whole lot of beer drinking going on, meaning one beer and an hour or two of conversation.
Mons has been with us since around the 12th century but it was occupied well before that, with neolithic roots. The Romans called it Castrilocus for the castrum (fort) they built there, evolving into Montes for the mountain and then Mons.
On Monday we hope to continue our journey, taking a day or more to ascend a series of locks where the locks themselves are lifted, rather than a channel being filled with water. This technology dates from the early 20th century. One of these locks rises 75 meters! I will write about this in the next blog.
Vists to the Golden Age: Ghent to Kortrijk-
Ghent (Gent in Flemish and Gand in French) has some of the most famous medieval architecture in Europe. It’s largely from the 16th century when the city prospered from its location at the junction of the Schelde and Leie rivers and the vast trade in textiles that came its way.
Flemish, which mildly diverges from Dutch, came to dominate by virtue of the Frank invasion in the late 4th century, thereby replacing the Celtic language. The first church dated from 650 CE. The cloth trade started to grow dramatically in the 14th century, aided by nearby sheep production and trade with both England and Scotland, from whom it purchased wool. As a result it became the largest city north of Paris, with about 65,000 residents. The 80 years war devastated the city, which revived in the 18th and 19th again as a result of the textile industry. The introduction of mechanical weaving was a great boon.
St Bevo Cathedral, Gravensteen Castle, the Belfry, Cloth Hall (Unesco World Heritage site) and the merchants’ houses in the area create a stunning image of the city at its height. Saint-Jacob’s church, Saint-Nicolas’ church, Saint Michael’s church and St. Stefanus are important additions to the town’s architectural treasures. There are three beguinages, also Unesco structures. Museum voor Schone Kunsten (Museum of Fine Arts) and one of a number of very good museusms, has a fine collection of Flemish masters. Some of the buildings along the old port have been rebuilt over the centuries. The changes made sometimes included the facade, so not all of those buildings are as they were originally.
There is a Marriott Hotel in town center. On its historically protected facade there are two swan carvings facing away from one another. The Marriott asked to change their orientation so that they faced one another, symbolic of a couple’s love. The city put a 1 million euro price tag on the change, too steep a price for the hotel after paying 6 million for the right to add a modern structure behind the facade, so the swans remain as they were, symbols of sex outside of marriage. However they refuse to rent rooms by the hour.
We stayed in Portus Ganda, very close to the center, by foot no more than about 15 minutes, and it’s along an attractive route that takes you near the 13th century Castle of the Devil Gerard. This has been a knights’ residence, an arsenal, a monastery, a school and a seminary, as well as once housing the mentally ill (17th century), a home for orphans, and finally as a prison. It was built to protect Portus Ganda.
The 13th century building was named after the Geeraard Vilain (1210-1270), second son of the fifteenth viscount of Ghent, Zeger III. Vilain’s was commonly called “Geeraard de Duivel” (“Geerard the Devil”), because of his dark complexion and hair.
We went by train to Bruges, a very popular tourist destination and an important port until the 15th century. Then the Zwin silted up so commerce transferred largely to Antwerp. Unlike Antwerp it was not bombed during the wars of the 20th centuries, and its appearance is closer to the original than Ghent, per the walking tour we took in that city. It must be so as the entire historic city center is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
The city dates at least as far back as the mid 9th century, gaining a city charter in the 12th century. Bruges had good connections with the Hanseatic league. Innovative traders adopted shared risk strategies from the Italians, and between these two main factors the city prospered. It became a major trader with Genoa which linked it with the Mediterranean trade. In 1309 a stock exchange opened, perhaps the first anywhere.
By the end of the 19th century Brugge was already a tourist destination. Before covid, some 8 million visited each year. The beguinage is still occupied and is perhaps the least touristy place in the old town. The port of Zeebrudge, built in 1907, is now a modern port, one of the most modern in Europe.
Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk), the Church of Our Lady, is 116 meters high, making it the world’s second tallest brick tower. It houses Micelangelo’s Madonna and Child, shipped here during his lifetime. The World Heritage Belfy with its 47 bells dates to the 13th-century. There is a full-time carillonneur, who performs often. Bruges is still known for its lace, chocolates and, of course, its beer. There are a half dozen or so local brews.
Lokeren was our next stop after bidding farewell my daughter and younger of my two granddaughters. Their visit was a long time in the planning, complicated by covid testing requirements (one each before departure, two each for the return flight). I will long remember their time here.
Lokeren is a small town to the north of Ghent on a small historical canal. You are taken through a series of hand operated bridges by a single operator who rides from bridge to bridge in her car. This takes about two hours and is done twice a day. We had to wait for the next morning’s run. It was just us through the curvy narrow canal that took us to the municipal marina on one side of the canal at the end of the navigable section. A friendly couple engaged the assistance of the harbor master to take us to a gas station. We put in 135 liters using two 20 liter jerry cans. Finding fuel for boats in Belgium is a challenge, as is finding a chandelry. Friends arrived a day or two later for a week’s journey.
Archaeological discoveries show settlement dating to Neolithic period 12,000 years ago. Written records first appear in 1114. It’s economy was based on agriculture and flax until well into the last century. It has a pleasant main square. While we were there a kermis (a fair with rides and food treats such as cotton candy) was just setting up in the square. There are concerts on the agenda for the following week but we were long gone.
We took our guests to Ghent for a short visit before heading south to Dienze so we could go to Flanders Fields American Cemetary, a somber visit. Belgians here and elsewhere in battle zones honor the lives of American and the other foreign soldiers who gave their lives to liberate the country.
On the way back we stopped a bus headed to the train station after about a 15 minute walk as we thought we had just missed the bus (it passed us about 10 minutes later). We were on the wrong side of the road but she stopped in response to my flagging her. We boarded but the bus brakes and the passenger doors locked. We were stuck for about 15 minutes. Apparently I pushed the emergency button versus the open button, as the door did not open for us. She had to call for assistance. She said afterwards this had never happened to her. I wonder if the problem occurred before I pushed anything, and certainly if you push an emergency door button the brakes and doors should not jam as they did- we had to board by the front door.
Next came Kortrijk, another small important town. It is on the Leie River just 25 kilometers from the French city Lille and not far from Wallonie, the French speaking portion of Belgium. It was a town in the Roman empire, with written references circa 5th century. The buildings from its Golden Age largely remain with us. City Hall is a prime example.
Here we bid farewell to our good friends, good travelers. We ventured south towards Wallonie, the French speaking part of the country, the French border never far away.
Antwerp, Lier and Dendermonde
At a population of 500,000, Antwerp is the biggest city in Belgium, not Brussels, which is the capitol. Antwerp is known for its diamond industry but more so as a port city, being the second largest in Europe . This made it a target of WWII bombing, with much damage done by the Nazis after the liberation. There are still many historical buildings remaining but much is post WWII, especially around the harbor, but given how inaccurate bombing was at the time, the damage was widespread.
The city lies on the River Scheldt just 15 kilometers south of the border with Netherlands. We came in on the canal as the river is tidal. This makes timing important, as coming with the tide saves fuel.
After you cross the border from the Netherlands you are required to check in at the first bridge. Our VHF radio calls were unanswered so we proceeded to Willemdok, the downtown harbor named after William I of the house of Orange. We arrived in the rain. The harbor master met us in a dingy, his head uncovered in the downpour, and guided the boats to their berths.
I spent the next two days replacing the heat exchanger after I noticed antifreeze pouring out the exhaust pipe. The harbor master referred us to Evers Herman, a retired mechanic. He helped us get the job done for a reasonable price. Unfortunately the hoses still leaked, as I learned after we left several days later. I had to do a bit of disassembly to resolve the problem. This was the second serious issue to occur during the journey south. Over the winter the hydraulic pump started leaking. I added oil to get it working again at the beginning of the season, hoping to find someone to replace the seals later on. I did just that in Papendrecht, getting a name from a fellow boater. They replaced the seals for me. However the steering failed completely on the big river not far from them. Fortunately I had hydraulic oil nearby and added some, restoring the steering. I got back to them. After several efforts they finally bled the air from the system.
After a few days my daughter and granddaughter joined us. We walked to the castle that sits on the river, taking the convenient tram to other parts of the city.
The city was alive with pedestrians, bikes, with comparatively little motorized traffic in the center. The cafes were generally busy, mostly with people drinking one or more of the hundreds of craft beers produced in this country. It is the best beer in the world, with many Trappist monastery beers leading the way. The national dish is moules frites, mussels with fries, served natur (plain) or with one of several sauces.
With the cooling system repaired, we set off for Emblem, a small marina in a rural area to the south of Antwerp. We called ahead to the marina and were greeted by a friendly Canadian born retiree. He and another kindly gent helped us moor. We had drinks with them and the others in the clubhouse, located in an old push barge. I spent an hour or two reinstalling the hoses on the heat exchanger to stop the leaks. My daughter and grand daughter swam in the river off a floating pier with a group of local teens. They found it quite pleasant, and both are half fish so I was happy they got some time in their element.
We went to Lier the next day, a small town a few hours away. Dating at least from the early 8th century, Lier lies on the River Nete. My daughter and I visited the town on the bikes. It has a famous beguinage. A beguinage was housing for women who lived a religious life without taking vows. There are a number of these in the Flemish section of the country, all Unesco World Heritage structures.
This tower was built in the 14th century. The clocks were added in 1930 by Louis Zimmer, an astronomer and clock maker. There are 12 clocks surrounding the main clock, which is 1.4 meters in diameter. They show time on all the continents, moon phase and tides, and other such natural occurrences.
The next day we started our journey to Ghent (Gent in Flemish), with a stop about halfway in the historical town of Dendermonde. We would now be going against the tide, dropping from 10 kph to 7.5 at first. You moor on the river so you need to come in against the current. In this case we were going against the current already. A couple of locals were there to give us an assist, not needed but always welcome. One turned out to be the harbor master.
Dendermonde sits at the junction of the Scheldt and Dender rivers, and is another delight to visit. It’s a 10 minute ride by bike from the moorings on the Scheldt, over a bridge and along the river a bit until you turn left to enter the town.
Traces of human settlement date well back in pre-history. Graves show activity in the second century and Merovingian times. The Treaty of Verdun (843) references Dendermonde. It received a city charter in 1243, having at that time a thriving cloth sector. In 1384 it came under the control of the Dukes of Burgundy. It suffered along with the rest of the low countries under Spanish rule. A the beginning of WWI the town was heavily bombed by the Germans. There is a Unesco beguinage in addition to the prosperous looking buildings of the town square.
The next day we went to Gent (Ghent is the English spelling), some 48 kilometers. We go with the tide this time, taking our speed from 7.5 to 13, a huge boost. Had we been able to do so for the journey to Desdemonde we would have saved almost three hours of the six hour journey. However this would have required night time travel, too dangerous for those not familiar with the river.
Den Haag
I’m on my own as Peg flies to Valencia for a ten day visit. I am staying in the small village called Leidshendam, which sits between Leiden and Den Haag, The Hague, as its known in English. It’s a short walk to the bus. I flick my chipkaart at the reader as I board, feeling like a real pro at public transit, where you are charged by distance. The cost is determined and flashed on the screen when you check out, if you remember to do so. If not they have a website where you can do so and avoid a large charge. I know these things now.
My destination is the Escher Museum, on embassy row in Den Haag. However I follow my talking pocket first to the Academiewinkle, looking for art supplies. I unexpectedly find myself in the Royal Academy of Art, which together with the Royal Conservatory form the University of the Arts The Hague- that’s how they write it on their website, no comma. Founded, my goodness, in 1692. They must have been wearing Pilgrim outfits. They’ve been in this building since 1839, as I found out later. That’s what the old paint and total lack of decor suggest as I walk down the dingy corridors in the basement where they put the store.
So it’s not a stand alone art shop but one that primarily serves students- no problem. They always serve non-students as well so I went in with confidence. The friendly guy switches seamlessly to Engles (English), and found what I was looking for, hidden behind some just arrived inventory. I never would have it on my own. I leave with my stuff, expecting to see scantily clad models around running to the next life drawing class. Instead there were just students, no doubt some of the best the country, and even the world, has to offer.
After that longish walk from Den Haag Central I make another to Embassy Row. The Escher Museum is in what was once a royal palace. The Dutch still have royalty, strangely enough as democratically run as they are, all 17 political parties worth.
I start in the basement. That’s where you have to leave your backpack. The way down and up are via separate servant staircases, and climb the latter you have to walk through the MC Cafe. Not the McCafe, the MC Cafe. I’m mighty glad I did so. The woman at the counter said there was a special on, coffee and a cake for 6.25, not exactly cheap, but I went for it as it was well past tensies. Pushing early lunch even. I am glad I did. The caramel cake is out of this world! A crunchy – is that the word?- top and a creamy inside. My my.
Maurits Cornelius Escher (1898-1972) was Dutch – I did not know that – and one of the most famous graphic artists- that I knew. He worked wood block for black and white high contrast effects, and lithographs for shading. His big thing was the play with perspective and creating mathematical themes, despite not having any but basic math skills. He explored infinity through transitions and the art equivalent of “…” (dot dot dot). Tesselations – I’d never seen that word before. It’s a tiling, in this case a graphic tiling using geometric shapes, called tiles, and it’s a mathematical concept as well. Think of the geometric designs in Islamic art and you can get a good idea of what a tesselation is. It’s also found in quilting. Escher’s art became well known among scientists and mathematicians, and in popular culture, especially after it was featured In April of 1966 by Martin Gardner in Scientific American. It was in the Mathematical Games column.
Escher attended the Technical College of Delft (1918) and then the Haarlem School of Decorative Arts (1919-22), where he studied drawing and woodcuts. He became enamored with the tile work in the Alhambra after a journey there, following visits to Italy, living in Rome afterwards from 1923-35. Mussolini repelled him so they left. He and his wife moved to just outside Brussels after a brief sojourn in Switzerland. In January, 1941 the war forced his move to the Netherlands. All this and more I am learning from the excellent written commentary.
The lovely palace that is home to the museum was finished in 1764. The Hope family bought in in 1796. Mr. Hope was a financier of royal families. Perhaps this is why Napoleon once stayed in the building. Queen Emma bought it in 1896. She added a beautiful staircase that appears to go to the second floor, but as I found out, you have to use the old servant staircases to and from that level. The Queen never went to the second floor (third floor as counted in the US), as it was for the servants. She also had them install hot running water, rare at the time.
The exhibits are excellently explained in very good Engles (although on their website ‘aloud’ is confused with ‘allowed.’ English. It is so difficult to spell). I learn a bit about lithographs. A special ink or chalk is used to make a drawing on a special stone, (thus ‘litho’) made to be water and ink repellent. Only the oily drawn lines absorb the ink the artist uses to draw.
Afterwards I wander a bit around town. It’s seem so cool to me to be in the Hague. It is so famous, so important, so lovely at least in the good weather. The pedestrian streets and bike paths are alive, cars and trucks demur at crosswalks. People sit outdoors having snacks or lunches. I join them for a light lunch, having already had dessert and, oh I’d forgotten, I had a tensie before I left Leidshendam. The slices of local cheese with bits of lettuce and whatnot sprinked on top, the bread and the beer left me a bit overstocked.
Den Haag is one of the most important cities in the world. It is the seat of the Netherlands government, although Amsterdam is the capitol. Here the Prime Minister and the Cabinet meet, and you find the States General, the Supreme Court, and the Council of State. Den Haag is the home of the International Court of Justice, the International Criminal Court, the Permanent Court of Arbitration, Europol and some 200 other administrative bodies.
It’s an old city (circa 1320) replete with many fine examples of Golden Age, Art Deco and other architectural styles. It is the country’s third-largest city, with a population of 800,000.
We took a walking tour the other day, one of those where you tip the guide and otherwise there is no fee. We started at the Mauritshaus, now a museum, walking around it to the natural lake, once a source of fish for the inhabitants. There you see the Binnenhof (meaning Inner Court), now housing the Parliament, where the nation’s 17 political parties meet, and the PM’s office, which is in a small tower. The PM can be seen bicycling to and from work often, with a hundred thousand or more other residents doing the same, the guide explained. Parliament’s home is a large Gothic structure dating from the 14th century. It was begun by William II starting circa 1248 and finished under his son Floris V. There were four others name Floris? This I do not know.
You might wonder how a nation can govern itself with so many parties. Perhaps the key is the country’s long term common enemy, water, lots of it very near, going by the name North Sea. The control of water is complicated and it’s always beckoning. With this common concern compromises and peace keeping are at the top of the agenda.
Perhaps you have also wondered how The Hague became the center for peace making. If not, start now.
The story starts with Tobias Asser, who initiated the first global Conference of Peace in 1899 (and again in 1907). These led to the establishment of the Permanent Court of Arbitration, which served to settle international disputes. Andrew Carnegie funded the Peace Palace as its home. Following the founding of the League of Nations, The Hague housed the Permanent Court of International Justice, replaced by the International Court of Justice under the U.N.
Royal Dutch Shell is the world’s 5th largest business revenue producer, head quartered here. The Hague is the second most visited city in the country after Amsterdam. The King and Queen live here, and are of the House of Orange as in the once English king. He (the former, not the latter) gives an annual statement of the country’s goals at the Summer Palace, just a short distance from the Winter Palace, each built to allow maximum comfort from the season’s harshest weather, both on the tour of course.
The Hague has its share of museums, most notably the Mauritshuis, built by the governor of the Dutch colony in Brazil. We went there. It is not a huge museum but has some very famous paintings. There are a number of Rembrants, including perhaps his most famous self portrait, and two Vermeers, including Girl With a Pearl Earing.
Aside from Maurithaus: the Bredius (art and restoration of the building), Museon (science), Kunstmuseum (modern art), , the national postal museum Museum voor Communicatie, , Louis Couperus (novelist), Museum Beelden aan Zee (modern sculpture), the Gevangepoort, former prison, Haags Historisch (history). I went to the superbly done history museum, which sits across from the Binnenhaus. The introductory graphic alone is worth the price of admission. It shows the map of the city and points out what happened in what area along with the dates, starting with prehistory. The coastline was closer in then, to about where the city now stands. Sand and peat bogs extended the coast. Well before the time the Nazis blazoned an antitank ditch through the center of the city the coastline came to where it now lies. The RAF mistakenly bombed a neighborhood, the rubble salvaged for construction. The museum has an corona collection and charts the ethnic changes brought about by immigration.
Den Haag. Garybob says check it out!
Leiden
We spent a week on the hard in Aalsmeer, applying anti-fouling paint to the hull, rebuilding the toilet pump, installing a depth meter, and performing other repairs and maintenance tasks. To install the depth meter I had to fit a through hull fitting. Never having installed one, I was a bit nervous, as you have to drill a hole in the bottom of the boat. I was glad to have the advice and tools of the repair facility that caters to the do it your self boaters. The facility was recommended by our long time Dutch friends who moored their boat there for many years. When we finished we set off for the Doeshaven marina in Leiderdorp. From there it is a 20 minute bus ride to the famous city of Leiden. The weather was prefect and my through hull fitting did not leak.
Leiden is a lively place that sits on the junction of the Nieuw and Oude Rhin rivers only 20 kilometers from The Hague and 40 from Amsterdam. As the covid restrictions are lifting, everywhere there are shoppers, walkers, bikers and those seated outdoors enjoying a beverage or a snack while chatting happily with a colleague or lover. It’s a very young crowd, given the student body of 35,000 in a city of less than 200,000. We were there in perfect weather, adding to festive atmosphere.
Leiden is called ‘City of Discoveries’ for the many important scientific developments that occurred here. The University of Leiden (founded 1575) boasts 13 Nobel Prize winners. It is the country’s oldest university and a member of the League of European Research Universities. It is twinned with Oxford, the UK’s oldest. Modern scientific medical research and teaching started in the early 18th century in Leiden as a result of the activites of Herman Boerhaave (1668-1738), famous in the annals of medicine. He pioneered clinical teaching and academic hospital, helping medicine take the turn into science. He isolated urea and started the use of thermometers.
Rembrandt was born and educated here.
The University of Leiden is famous for its many discoveries including Snells law and the Leyden jar capacitor developed by Pieter van Musschecnbroek (1746). Heike Kamerlingh Onnes won the 1913 Nobel Prize in physics. Among his accomplishments, he liquefied helium and attained a temperature of less than one degree above absolute zero. Albert Einstein taught at the University.
Around 860 Leiden began with the formation of an artificial hill that same to be called the Burcht van Leiden, which we climbed. The hill that sits at the junction of the Oude and Nieuwe Rijn. The settlement was called Leithon. A leitha (later “lede”) is a human-modified natural river. Leiden was an important center for weaving in the 15th century.
The city sided with the Dutch against Spanish rule in 1572. Under seige from May until October 1574 by the Spanish, it was saved by the Sea Beggars, who flooded the area, allowing the city to be resupplied by ship. As thanks William of Orange founded the University. The end of the siege is still celebrated on October 3. During the siege paper money was issued, for the first time in Europe. The paper came from prayer books, coming into use when silver supplies dissipated.
TYhe Pilgrims who later settled in nowadays Massachusetts lived in Leiden. Johan Rudolf Thorbecke wrote the Dutch Constitution in 1848 in his house at Garenmarkt 9.
In the next post, we sail from Leiden to Alphen an der Rijn, enjoying a delightful visit of the Archeon Museum Park.
Oudekerk to Oude Wettering
After Woerden we were two weeks off the grid. We entered the Amstel River, the river that gave Amsterdam (dam on the Amstel) its name many centuries ago. For several days we were in Oudekerk (Old Church), moored in front of several restaurants that had just been permitted to reopen outdoors. The weather did not cooperate so few chose to brave the cold winds and rains that plagued so much of May. We ordered borrels (appetizers). They delivered to the boat, quite the treat, and on ceramic plates with silverware, not plastic. When we were done all we had to do was call and they came with the bill.
Across the river you are in Oudekerk proper, a town of a few streets. As the weather cleared the bars and restaurants filled, which h we noted as we biked past looking for the grocery store and the Gamma, a large chain selling paint and lumber. Their paint machine broke as they prepared our boat’s dark dark blue paint but at least we saw all the outdoor activity on a lovely day, at last.
We are not far from the larger town of Amstelveen about 15 minutes on our bikes, and about 20 kilometers from Amsterdam. Amstelveen has a large immigrant population. We learned this as we searched for grocery stores in the area. Many were Indian and other southeast Asian shops. In one Indian shop we found red chili flakes, a must for Indian as well as Italian cooking, at least as far as I am concerned. We stocked up on wine from another shop, racing home against the forming clouds.
We turned back on the Amstel, as we can go no farther towards Amsterdam due to low bridge clearances. We are again in Uithoorn, south of town. We were here the other day, moored while the bridge was repaired. Two hours turned into three, but no matter, as we had shopping to do. With these small refrigerators, found in many apartments in European cities as well as boats, you must go out often for fresh items. From our mooring we are just about 10 mGoogle maps. I went looking, The locations marked on Google maps no longer exist. I went several kilometers several times to find nothing. I headed back to the boat through the tiny downtown to check there, just in case. I saw no Post NL and was about to give up when I saw a postman. He pointed just a few meters towards the Bruna. You can get what you need there, he said. It was only then that I saw the small sign sitting rather high off the ground. This was before I learned that the Bruna was one possible outlet.
Then came Tolensluis. I think this translates as Toll Lock. ‘Sluis,’ is the English ‘sluice’ but a sluice in English is generally used for small locks, in Dutch for all however. You can see many shared words between English and Dutch, although often the meaning is different if somehow related. The movement of peoples is embedded in their languages, something I always find fascinating, these verbal artifacts just sprinkled about.
The sluis is tiny, of course, operated by the man who lives in the adjacent house. After a few minutes he comes out. I was happy to see him as the winds were pushing us about quite a bit.
Oude Weettering was next, after a night in a marina to charge the batteries. Friends again came by to our mooring in the long stretch of houses and a few shops that line the water. Cuckoos live here too, not just in deeper countryside. Youngsters squeal and giggle as they play in the water. Girls in their early teens sing pop, wearing two piece suits for the most part. Everyone stops at a fast food shop called The Family for ice cream, fries, burgers. It sounds so American, I know, but the presentation and atmosphere is not, and besides, where can you get chicken with a peanut sauce in a fast food restaurant in the US?
Boaters are out in force, sloshing the moored boats, up to a dozen or so tied to the docks. The majority are day boats, meaning they have no cabin. Most are completely open, others offer some cover from the rain, not necessary in this week of perfect weather.
In the meantime we are waiting for our final covid vaccination and the Belgian border to open. As of July 1 the EU covid app is due, which you use at border crossings where necessary. Spain is now allowing visitors without testing, Italy with. Concerts and large venues can operate. Europe is gradually coming out of the long, dark winter of confinement. Spring has arrived. We all hope that there will be no repeat come next winter.
Zwammerdam to Nieuwkoop
May 14, 2021
We entered the Oude Rijn (Old Rhine), a small winding river that moves lazily through the countryside, passing through small villages. It is lined with many older charming houses whose patios face the river. Often there are tables and comfortable chairs. Sometimes residents read as they glance at the passing boats.
We stopped for the night at a marked mooring on the river’s bank. A couple had just moored and helped us in. He even pounded in the mooring stakes, as here there is no other option. Our takes are neatly stored inside one of the two large boxes that sit on the back deck, hanging along with the heavy hammer. Half in English and three quarters in Dutch he told us about some nice places to visit along the way. They left early the next morning, before we were out on our bikes.
The road running along the river leads to Zammerdam, just a few minutes by bike. You pass old but prosperous looking farms with huge slanting roofs and smaller buildings with stilts on four sides so the roof can rise as the structure fills with hay or straw, whatever they are storing for the long damp winter. I suppose they cover the sides to keep the goods dry.
Off to the left is the Ziendevaart Canal, leading to the entrance to a national park. There is a lovely view from the bridge, memorialized by the watercolor below. Follow the canal all the way through you get to Nieuwkoop, near where we are now a few days later but on the Grecht River. We biked down to the canal’s tiny lock. We could make this journey on the boat, we were told, but it looks very close to the margins.
On the way back to the boat we stopped at the dairy that offers its own cheese for sale. There you can see the 100 cows that produce the cheese I am trying to get out of the vending machine using my credit card. I finally find a card that works but in the meantime we had found the owner, who then went to put her shoes on. She came out, tall as the roof over the barn, speaking English quite well despite living well off the tourist track. That tells you how well they teach English here and are exposed to it regularly via American and British media offerings.
She told us they produce 1 million liters a year, that’s 1000 per head, more than a calf would consume. The output is enhanced by breeding. The cows live 8 years, and they are trying to breed the longest living lines to extend that to 10. They sell their milk to an organic cheese maker. She says that the Dutch government does not favor raw milk, for fear of infections, and apparently does not have a certification process. We bought a pretty old version of the cheese, thanked each cow separately, and will check it out when the real old one in the frig is history.
We moved on to Bodegraven, mooring outside town. You get a great view of the harbor. See the drawing. Friends came by to bring us the window he worked on. The glass was cracked by a rock last year. We’d bought a new one so he could try removing the old acrylic glass. He’d never done it before, and the manufacturer, Gebo, said it was difficult to do. It just took persistence, he said.
Bodegraven is tiny, with just one main street bisecting the other at the lock, with a few dozen shops. One of the shops is a Polish grocer. In we went, as we like the cuisine. They had some dill pickles and jars of bigos. Bigos is a sauerkraut dish with bits of pork. It’s very Old World. We enjoyed a jar for dinner and the rest for lunch the next day, all for about 5 euros. We went back for a few more jars.
We went through the lock to moor in town center. We should have done this yesterday. Unlike the other, here there is electricity and water that you pay for via an app. There is no mooring fee, amazingly. So there you are with some great old houses as neighbors. Our friends came by again, bringing some lumber so we can replace the wood damaged by the leaking windows in the after cabin. Their granddaughter is working at a hotel nearby, as an apprentice, so its not so far for them to have come, as they transport her. We stayed three quiet nights as permitted.
The windmill is part of the small brewery in town. It was closed the Monday and Tuesday we were there. Their website says that they are open on Wednesday but as of noon they were still closed and as we left shortly after we never got to try it. A Peace Corps friend saw my Facebook post on the topic and said she was there several times while staying in the village. She said the beer was excellent and there were several varieties to try. I was looking forward to it and the food trailer they have near the door, offering kip sate, fries and other common goodies.
It’s several hours on the river to Woerden. There is an old castle, but it looks new somehow. The old town is surrounded by an octagonal moat of which the castle is a part. There is an old mill on a mound, so the wings tower above. The harbor is fairly large but in need of modernization, as we could not fit in between the posts. We snugged in between two barges.
It was around 1730 that the bridge opened so we headed out of town, back the way we came as there is no other choice, and made the hard right onto the Grecht after slowly, slowly winding our way through the abandoned factories outside town. At the entrance there is barely room for one boat. The wind was picking up so it was hard to hold it in place even in that sheltered spot. At 1900 or so we saw a mooring with two boats already tied up. I tried to get between them but the wind was too strong so we moved on. At 1930 we found a lovely spot that was easy to get into, by the box windmill, just like the people at the 1900 effort said.
The wind blew like crazy all night and all the next day at this spot, outside Nieuwkoop. Nonetheless we were able to remove one of the leaking windows, cut the wood and filler, then reinstall the window.
We continue on the Grecht in the next blog.
Bruekelen to Gouda
May 15
After passing through the charming riverside views of Bruekelen we spent two days near Nederhorst (May 5-6) , for us merely a wide spot in the Vecht, painting, drawing and doing some maintenance. It was more or less the same in tiny Monfoort except the morning after our arrival we had new neighbors in their 14 meter fiberglass yacht with a home port of “Antwerpen.” We made a bee line for their door, as we are planning a few months in Belgium once we can enter without spending large sums on tests.
They had some very good suggestions and made us realize how small Flanders is, and how even in Wallonie, the French speaking half of the country, English is commonly spoken. This was a surprise to us, as when we had property there we were the only Anglophiles around. The conversation evolved into boats, of course. The captain had a number of boat maintenance suggestions, as I was in the process of rewired the stern light and had run across a snag in the last few meters. He suggested smearing vaseline on the wire where it joints the fish wire. Another was to check construction dumpsters. There was one at the mooring. I did not find the block of wood I needed for the stern light, as I had to destroy the old one to get at the stern light wire to replace it, but I did find a long pole which we used to mark the air draft of our rain hood. Now when we come to a bridge with little clearance we can use the pole to determine if we will fit rather than bringing the boat to where the rain hood practically touches the bridge.
Aside from the practicalities, we enjoyed talking to the couple, our first sit down conversation in weeks and only the third or fourth since we arrived in early April. We had spoked with an Irish couple back in Amersfoort, who were very helpful with regards to vaccinations. We learned that our current neighbors’ boat came from Florida, shipped to Netherlands by the previous owner. This is a very expensive proposition. They added double pane windows, also very pricey, and removed the air conditioning. They leave their boat in Friesland every other year, in Antwerp the other for out of the water maintenance. We talked about a variety of other topics, with comments and concerns not out of the ordinary except they refuse to frequent a bar or restaurant in Brussels where they speak only French, the main language of Brussels. We were under the impression that because the capitol is in Flanders that Flemish would be the predominant language. This led to the a discussion of Dutch versus Flemish, we learned that the primary difference is in the pronunciation.
Oudewater was our next stop. It is another charming small town and a very old one. Now in the province of Utrecht again after a 700+ year hiatus, it has been around at least since 1265. There are 300 plus historic buildings, as well as nearly 230 municipal and national monuments, extraordinary for a town of this size. This wealth of architecture came from the hemp industry. The inhabitants came to be called ‘Geelbuiken,’ (Yellow Belly) from the stain the hemp made on their work clothes.
Oudewater was represented in the First Free State Assembly in Dordrecht in 1572. We visited the museum in Dordrecht dedicated to this event, at which they planned the break from Spain and where the House of Orange was established. The Spanish retaliated against the city by killing all but a handful of the inhabitants, an event still commemorated annually. The city was seriously damaged by fire as a result of the siege. Much of the historic city center dates from the reconstruction made possible by the hemp industry, the Dutch East India Company being a major customer. By the beginning of the 20th century, with the decline of the hemp industry over the past several centuries, many buildings were in dire condition, repaired and renovated since then, leaving us with this fine example of a 17th century town.
At the the 750th anniversary of city’s founding in 2015, King Willem-Alexander, of the house of Orange, visited the city.
Gouda (population 72,000) is famous for the cheese that bears its name, its fabulous 15th-century city hall, as well as churches and other historic buildings. Gouda was established by the Van der Goude family circa the 12th century. They built a fortified castle on the Gouwe River, from which the city’s name may have derived, and upon which we later traveled. The Gouwe was connected to the Hollandse Ijssel, a harbor was formed from the mouth of the latter, and Castle Gouda built to protect the harbor. The castle was destroyed in 1577, the city walls torn down between 1830 and 1854.
The famous cheese got its name from the city’s central role in its distribution, rather than its production. This came about by feudal decrees granting a sales monopoly to the city. The cheese porter guild, wearing special colored straw hats, transported the 16 kilo cheese rounds in wheel barrows to the market. The cheese was coated with wax, while now they use a yellow plastic coating. The cheese is then aged, producing final produces that range from soft to hard, the later termed Oude Gouda, which requires a 12 month period. If you know Gouda from what you buy in the US, the Oude version would be an entirely unrecognizable experience. It’s as hard as a high quality parmigiano.
From here we scooted to Amersfoort on the train for our first vaccination. It went smoothly. I had a sore arm for two days but otherwise we had no issues. We must return in June for the second injection. Doing this in the Netherlands means we avoid a trip to Spain, perhaps two. This would require exposing ourselves to the risks of infection and travel in general, plus $500 in tests in addition to the travel expenses. I’d receive notice from Salud that I would be getting the Johnson vaccine, meaning I would only need one visit. Peg has yet to receive an appointment from Spain. This could not have worked out much better.
Amersfoort to Muiden, Weesp and Breukelen
May 9, 2021
From our perch just outside Amersfoort we managed to secure an appointment for a Covid vaccination. We called the appointment line on advice from the Irish boaters we met in the Amersfoort harbor and on a second try found someone who knew how to make the database work for people who live on boats.
Our next destination is Muiden, famous for its castle, and the Vecht is lovely from here and most of the way to its source, passing through the lovely historic towns of Weesp and Breukelen (pronounced like and giving its name to Brooklyn) and small villages. It was a lovely if windy ride, with just a bit of wave action hitting us broadside so it was a comfortable trip to the lock. The friendly lockkeeper was waiting, the gate open. It’s an easy lock in and out right in the middle of town, shops, restaurants and houses on each side.
Muiden does not have any moorings in town center, unfortunately, so it’s either on a mooring from whence there is no land access or a paid spot in an unattractive area with neither water nor electricity, and a grumpy harbor master who did not bother giving us a receipt. So we moved on the next day to the downtown mooring in the middle of Weesp. From there we took the train to Schipol to get our digid code for the Netherlands. We will probably not ever need it, but if we need to interact with the Dutch government we can now do so online, as the digid code, as they call it, suffices for your signature.
We spent two days in decent weather near Nederhorst, where I rewired the persnickety navigation lights (corrosion had spread through the wire for several meters), before proceeding up the Vecht to Maarsen for the night, then through the next day Breukelen has magnificent buildings on the water, easy to enjoy at the sauntering pace. We now rest in the tiny village of Monfoort, just one other boat and a few dozen houses.
