Dorothy, We're Not in New Jersey Anymore!
It's hip these days to say you are traveling off the beaten path. It was even the theme of our most recent American Women's Club meeting. Most of us don't want to admit we only visit the recommendations on typical tourist lists, whether Trip Advisor or Rick Steves. Some of us want to be the very first to discover the greatest, tucked-away-in-an-alley restaurant, or the to-die-for bakery. The problem is that often until you have trodden the beaten path, you aren't ready to get off it. And there's a reason that path is so beaten down: it's because the things on it are usually well worth seeing.
When you think of the Netherlands, you might think of tulips, cheese, and windmills. I know I do! So although I do love a chance to get on my bike, my feet, or the train to seek out new places, I have spent some time this spring at the biggest tourist attractions in the area. And loved every minute!
Seen from the car window on the way to track down tulips. Now if only I had been eating cheese at the time, that would have combined the three top symbols of the Netherlands in one fell swoop (tulips are surrounding the windmill, for those of you reading this without your glasses). Next time, I'll pack a hunk of Gouda.
First on my to-do list was tulips, and that meant a trip to Keukenhof, the flower gardens and fields in Lisse, a village about a 30 minute drive from Amsterdam. One thing you need to know about Keukenhof is that among the expat community, there is a fair amount of angst and anxiety involved in the visit. "When are you going to Keueknhof? Have you been to Keukenhof yet?" and that sort of worried talk abound here in the early spring. I fell right in with that buzz, googling advice for how to get there (via tram, then bus, then a walk). Yes, we have been proud of our car-less status here, but when our friend Tift offered to drive one Saturday in April, we jumped at the chance. Like, Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire, I, too, have "often depended on the kindness of strangers", or, as in this case, friends. I nearly fainted (didn't Blanche do that, too?) when my Keukenhof mates (Tift and Peter) decided we needed to push off at 7:30 to beat the crowds. Those who know me well know that I like to take my time on a Saturday morn. So it will give you some idea of just how excited I was to visit those flower gardens when I tell you I was up and ready by 7:30.
Fields and fields of tulips on the outskirts of the (indoor and outdoor) formal gardens. A bike trip to ride through the fields that I planned to go on had to be canceled twice because of rainy, windy weather. Ah, well. That just gives me something to look forward to next year.
The word keukenhof means "kitchen garden". The gardens were originally a farm-to-table set up, albeit a very lavish one, created back in the 15th century by Princess Jacqueline of Bavaria. The park got a major facelift in the 19th century, when it was redesigned with English gardens (by the same chap, and his son, who designed Vondel Park, the large park near our apartment). Fast forward to 1949, when a group of enterprising flower bulb exporters came up with the brilliant idea of using the estate as a park to showcase spring flowers. Now there are 7 million bulbs in bloom (not just tulips, but also hyacinths, daffodils, lilies, and orchids, among others). Tulips are, however, the prom queen here, with 800 varieties for you to oogle. The gardens cover an area of 32 hectares. No idea how big that is? Well, welcome to my world, oh ye of little memory for the metric system. That's about 79 acres. They say Keukenhof is the largest flower garden in the world. They also say it's the biggest tourist attraction in the Netherlands. I wasn't able to verify either claim. Who cares?
One of the joys of arriving early, before the crowds descended, was the ability to have Tift take my picture here without having to stand in line. Imagine how proud Peter was to see me climb into this clog. For some reason, he chose not to have his picture taken with me, a decision he will no doubt regret for the rest of his life.
We didn't quite have the place to ourselves, but close to it, at least when we first arrived. I wish I could add a scratch-and-sniff feature to the blog so you could get a sense of how intoxicating the smell of these hyacinths was.
I kept changing my mind about the prettiest tulip in the bunch. This red and white variety was definitely in the running.
Couldn't pass up a chance to step into clogs that are only slightly bigger than my actual shoes. Thank you, Tift, for once again indulging me in this very dignified photo op.
When I saw these gardens, I suddenly realized why we have to put up with all of that rain in the winter. It was all worth it...I think.
I really did feel like I had gone over the rainbow while wandering through those flower gardens. With all the build-up, I was afraid I would be disappointed. Actually, it was even more magical than I could have imagined. And, while I'm in the process of confessing, I never knew until I met Peter in 1986, that the Wizard of Oz begins in black and white, and blossoms into color when they enter Oz. Really! That's what happens when you grow up with a black and white T.V.
With a day of flower gazing under my belt, I could move on to the next big Dutch tourist symbol: cheese. As usual, I only half paid attention to the invitation from the American Women's Club Excursion pal, Cristina, about coming along to Alkmaar, to see where cheese is made. I thought we were going to see cheese being made, weighed and readied for export in real life. It turns out, that this tourist destination is like Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia, with folks in period costume reenacting what the cheese-bargaining, buying, and weighing processes looked like back in the day. No worries, though. Having lost out on the chance to bring Ben and Rachel to Williamsburg when they were kids, I could finally see what this type of live historical theatre was like. After a 30 minute train ride, we were a world away from Amsterdam. Alkmaar is much smaller, and less crowded, except near the cheese market. The market is only open on Fridays, from April to the beginning of September. It was brimming with tourists and, glory be, with cheese samples.
These are all giant wheels of cheese being hauled out by the cheese carriers and displayed. In the old days, this was when merchants figured out what they wanted to buy, and how much much they wanted to pay, by tasting the wares.
Nowadays, you, too, can taste the cheese if you book a tour, like we did. Here's Cristina, getting first dibs on the Gouda. It's pronounced How-da, with the H pronounced like you are clearing your throat. However, if you live in the U.S., you may sound really pretentious if you ask for How-da at Whole Foods.
You could even line up, like a big hunk of cheese, to see what your weight was. No thank you!
Other than hosting the cheese market, Alkmaar is a charming Dutch town with canals, beautiful old churches, and even a one-street Red Light district. Our tour guide spoke Dutch-lish (Eng-utch?), which meant he spoke English with a heavy Dutch accent, and if he didn't know a word in English, he simply substituted a Dutch word without missing a beat. So I think there is a Red Light street, and that cows have several stomachs, but I'm just not sure. I may have to head back to the Alkmaar Kaas (Cheese) Museum to fact-check.
This sign was not at the Alkmaar Cheese Market, but rather at the hip and happenin' Rollende Keukens (Rolling Kitchens) food festival. Totally different vibe from Alkmaar, with its aisles of food trucks and hipsters, but I had to include it while on the subject of cheese in the Netherlands. The Eurythmics would not have been out of place at this festival. You'll have to Google that on your own if you don't know who they are, and why the sign is funny. Hint: they sang a song Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This).
Last on my hit parade for major Dutch symbols was the windmill. How could I pass up a chance on National Windmill Day to visit a windmill? On sunny Mother's Day, I pedaled to a windmill in Amsterdam, and got my windmill fix. There is a nearby village, Zaanse Schans, with rows and rows of working windmills, a clog factory, and a pancake restaurant. I'm saving that for when visitors come. Clogs and pancakes sound like an awesome combination to me.
On National Windmill Day, I expected this beauty to be surrounded by crowds of adoring fans. However, I had her all to myself.
With my tulip, cheese, and windmill excursions under my belt, I am now ready to tackle the more off-the-beaten-path spots. My recent excursions may have been to the most beaten-down of tourist spots, but I have come to realize that before you can take the road less-travelled, you have to get to know the main drags. With my sense of direction, I will need to allot extra travel time when I seek out these tucked-away spots. Stay tuned for news about more exotic locales where I singlehandedly bring the median age up several decades just by walking in the door. That doesn't bother me anymore. No matter where you roam, there's a place for all of us.
An icon of Amsterdam, the I amsterdam sign has come to Vondel Park. The original still sits on Museumplein, where the big museums stand. Once again, Casey agreed to pose for me, albeit reluctantly. I think it beats getting in a giant clog though, don't you? I'm not sure Casey would see it that way.