What do you get when you put uncomfortable wooden clogs, wheels of Gouda cheese, and wind-milled lined canals 6 ft below sea level? The Netherlands of course! After a frustrating run in with the corrupt Czech police, a few quick days in the red roofed city of Prague, and the realization that my French would once again not be helpful, I arrived in Holland ready for a new adventure. Out of the three countries so far, the Dutch have proved to be virtually fluent in English; something which makes me very happy as it requires more phlegm to speak Dutch than I can muster from even my worst of colds! Just ask me how to correctly say Van Gogh’s name next time you see me…and um…grab an umbrella before I answer.
Besides my first initial shock of the extreme flatness that is the Netherlands, I have found the area to be quite the fairytale marshland, full of blond haired people, road bikes with more gadgets than my car, and…well…water! The tallest point in Holland is 325 above sea level and is thus referred to as (it’s hard for me to say this with a straight face) a mountain. As the country rests 6 meters below sea level, it requires dikes, dams, dunes, weirs (flow meters), windmills, gates, pumps, polders, and canals to be habitable. Damn!
I find the Dutch to be very friendly, warm, and helpful people who are curious to help the oddly dressed American visitors who share their greatest love in life…biking! I say “oddly dressed” because while the Dutch people literally ride their bikes everywhere, you will hardly ever see them wearing bike clothing, shoes, or, (gasp!)…a helmet! For these 16 million flatlanders, there are 20 million bikes. In fact, their bike paths are so sophisticated, there are separate paths parallel to the auto roads that require their own set of traffic lights! And you better abide by the lights or you might just get run over! Trust me on this one…
Sitting fully upright on a springy seat and equipped with two large panier bags over the back wheel, you can shop till you drop…or at least until you can no longer fit anything more in your two paniers! And who needs twenty seven gears when three will do? I like to call them slow, slower, and slowest. With these gears, the handy bike bell required by law, and twenty five euros, the Dutch can go anywhere (the fine for biking while under the influence is twenty five euros). So it is that I find myself in a new country. With a trusty map, my good sense of direction, and a mastery of the U-turn, I can pretty much navigate my way through most new regions. The fun part is doing this flawlessly with guests in the car!
After leading two family trips through the habitual daily wind and rain, I found myself with two weeks of freedom. What would this girl do with two free weeks and Amsterdam as her jumping off point? Croatia? Budapest? Midnight sunsets in Sweeden? Deciding that the ice hotel and midnight sunset of Scandinavia was stretching the wallet a bit too thin, my co-leader and I hopped on a train bound for Berlin. Ich bin ein Berliner baby!
Ah Berlin. One of the newest oldest cities I have visited in Europe. The colorful dorm-like buildings constructed after the war have transformed this historically rich city into a modern collection of highrises. Many of the original buildings were left with holes in the walls and roofs missing as a reminder of the not so distant past.
Keeping true to my new style of travel, I stayed with local Berliners and got a true taste of Germany…literally. Using her rowing connections from Chatanooga, Tennessee, Hurricane (my fellow Coloradan Backroads leader…and yes that is her real name) secured a week’s lodging with two of the nicest people I have yet to meet while traveling. Welcome to Anne and Carsten’s! We were greeted with a box of Duncan donuts, a room to ourselves, and the keys to a turbo BMW mini. Damn I love meeting the locals!
Anne and Carsten were and will always be our Berlin family. They took us to their friend’s house for barbeques, drove us around town, and truly opened their home to these two American strangers. We ate every sausage known to Germans, drank thick German beer (which can be green!), and tasted more liverwurst than I knew humanly possible. Due to the language barrier (damn, why don’t I speak 5 different languages?!), I smiled a lot and used my hands as a necessary extension of my vocabulary. By the end of the week, I was known as the smiley blond girl who loves water, will never turn down a piece of dark chocolate, and has an odd craving for protein-rich liverwurst. I needed something to counter the large amount of carbs I was consuming!
In lieu of my normal hostel stays and aimless street wanderings, I lifted weights in a Communist 1950’s gym, mountain biked through fields with a guy and his dog, and hitched a ride with a complete stranger to the Baltic sea. I experienced the sweet flavor of green beer, the fluidity of euro dancing, and the sexiness of German automobiles. I have found that life is full of possibility. I just have to reach for it.
With my arms fully outstretched,
Kristyn
Besides my first initial shock of the extreme flatness that is the Netherlands, I have found the area to be quite the fairytale marshland, full of blond haired people, road bikes with more gadgets than my car, and…well…water! The tallest point in Holland is 325 above sea level and is thus referred to as (it’s hard for me to say this with a straight face) a mountain. As the country rests 6 meters below sea level, it requires dikes, dams, dunes, weirs (flow meters), windmills, gates, pumps, polders, and canals to be habitable. Damn!
I find the Dutch to be very friendly, warm, and helpful people who are curious to help the oddly dressed American visitors who share their greatest love in life…biking! I say “oddly dressed” because while the Dutch people literally ride their bikes everywhere, you will hardly ever see them wearing bike clothing, shoes, or, (gasp!)…a helmet! For these 16 million flatlanders, there are 20 million bikes. In fact, their bike paths are so sophisticated, there are separate paths parallel to the auto roads that require their own set of traffic lights! And you better abide by the lights or you might just get run over! Trust me on this one…
Sitting fully upright on a springy seat and equipped with two large panier bags over the back wheel, you can shop till you drop…or at least until you can no longer fit anything more in your two paniers! And who needs twenty seven gears when three will do? I like to call them slow, slower, and slowest. With these gears, the handy bike bell required by law, and twenty five euros, the Dutch can go anywhere (the fine for biking while under the influence is twenty five euros). So it is that I find myself in a new country. With a trusty map, my good sense of direction, and a mastery of the U-turn, I can pretty much navigate my way through most new regions. The fun part is doing this flawlessly with guests in the car!
After leading two family trips through the habitual daily wind and rain, I found myself with two weeks of freedom. What would this girl do with two free weeks and Amsterdam as her jumping off point? Croatia? Budapest? Midnight sunsets in Sweeden? Deciding that the ice hotel and midnight sunset of Scandinavia was stretching the wallet a bit too thin, my co-leader and I hopped on a train bound for Berlin. Ich bin ein Berliner baby!
Ah Berlin. One of the newest oldest cities I have visited in Europe. The colorful dorm-like buildings constructed after the war have transformed this historically rich city into a modern collection of highrises. Many of the original buildings were left with holes in the walls and roofs missing as a reminder of the not so distant past.
Keeping true to my new style of travel, I stayed with local Berliners and got a true taste of Germany…literally. Using her rowing connections from Chatanooga, Tennessee, Hurricane (my fellow Coloradan Backroads leader…and yes that is her real name) secured a week’s lodging with two of the nicest people I have yet to meet while traveling. Welcome to Anne and Carsten’s! We were greeted with a box of Duncan donuts, a room to ourselves, and the keys to a turbo BMW mini. Damn I love meeting the locals!
Anne and Carsten were and will always be our Berlin family. They took us to their friend’s house for barbeques, drove us around town, and truly opened their home to these two American strangers. We ate every sausage known to Germans, drank thick German beer (which can be green!), and tasted more liverwurst than I knew humanly possible. Due to the language barrier (damn, why don’t I speak 5 different languages?!), I smiled a lot and used my hands as a necessary extension of my vocabulary. By the end of the week, I was known as the smiley blond girl who loves water, will never turn down a piece of dark chocolate, and has an odd craving for protein-rich liverwurst. I needed something to counter the large amount of carbs I was consuming!
In lieu of my normal hostel stays and aimless street wanderings, I lifted weights in a Communist 1950’s gym, mountain biked through fields with a guy and his dog, and hitched a ride with a complete stranger to the Baltic sea. I experienced the sweet flavor of green beer, the fluidity of euro dancing, and the sexiness of German automobiles. I have found that life is full of possibility. I just have to reach for it.
With my arms fully outstretched,
Kristyn
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