2005 Biking in Belgium and Holland

BIKING and BARGING with BRUISED & BATTERED BOTTOMS Author: Lois Olive Gray Photos: Kay Ellen Gilmour, MD Website: kaygilmour.smugmug.com

May 18 to June 1, 2005

Table of Contents COUNTRIES VISITED ....................................................................................... 1 BIKING LOGISTICS .......................................................................................... 6 HOME AWAY FROM HOME ............................................................................ 9 HOSTS, GUIDES, AND FELLOW BIKERS ......................................................... 16 CITIES, TOWNS, AND VILLAGES .................................................................... 22 BIKING IN THE NETHERLANDS ...................................................................... 23 Amsterdam............................................................................................... 23 Rijksmuseum ........................................................................................ 25 Vondelpark........................................................................................... 27 Nieuwe Kirke (New Church) ................................................................ 29 The Beguinehof .................................................................................... 30 Flower Market ..................................................................................... 32 The Canoe Adventure .......................................................................... 33 Pickpocket Disaster ............................................................................. 39 Kinderdijk ................................................................................................. 43 Willemstad ............................................................................................... 45 BIKING IN BELGIUM ..................................................................................... 47 Antwerp ................................................................................................... 47 Ruplemonde ............................................................................................. 50 Temse – Home Hosted Meal .................................................................... 52 Dendermonde .......................................................................................... 56 Ghent ....................................................................................................... 58 Bruges ...................................................................................................... 62 ADDENDUM - CRITTERS ............................................................................... 72

COUNTRIES VISITED What soft, lush, and lovely places the Low Countries are! What luminous greens everywhere, even in the cities where trees and plants cushion the angular lines of encircling architecture. The very ground in these below sea- level nations is forgiving and springy because the water table wells up to the surface and requires those light and airy windmills to be ever turning, pushing and drawing the water into the many canals and rivers. What generous, friendly and welcoming folks live in these comfortable and civil villages, towns and cities!

How then can it be so damned miserable to tour them? Oh yes, now I remember; it’s those bicycles! Even though Vermont Bicycle Travel’s version of those ubiquitous vehicles is superb in gearing, steering, durability, and weight, insufficient attention has been paid to the seating accommodations. Maybe there’s an unsolvable situation here. It’s evidently true that there are more bicycles than people in both The Netherlands and Belgium and, oddly enough, those riders look serene, untroubled, and pain free as they pedal all over their lands. Most of their bikes don’t look nearly as luxurious as the VBT type, but they have smiles rather than grimaces on their faces.

But, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself here—putting the bikes before the bikers rather than under them. There’s a back-story that must come first. We are four novice cyclists who have hiked, walked, explored, paddled, and enjoyed many trips together. The VBT brochures painted an exciting picture of the joy of touring these bike-friendly countries at “pedal speed” by day and spending cozy evenings on a luxurious barge with gourmet meals and like-minded fellow travelers. No daily packing and unpacking as usually happens on bike tours. Absolutely flat terrain to coddle the beginning bicycle tourist. We all love active vacations so this trip seemed perfect: a chance to try a new activity, to enjoy the canals by barge, to see these old cultured European countries! So we signed up 1

almost 7 months early and immediately began training our bodies for the adventure (at least three of us did)! Don’t get the wrong idea now—we had an “excruciatingly” marvelous time!

First, let’s examine a few observations about the Low Countries. After all, they are unique nations with fascinating histories and cultures.

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The Netherlands The Dutch are the master dike and canal makers, the people who wage a constant battle against the North Sea to protect their low coastal plains as well as the land they have reclaimed from the sea floor (called polders).

Much of their country is below sea level (the lowest point is 7 meters lower). For centuries, they have successfully kept the sea at bay, living and farming protected by their windmills and dikes. The implications of global warming have definitely gotten the attention of the Dutch who are already planning how to counter seas that may rise many meters with the melting of the glaciers and ice sheets of the world.

The rich lands the Dutch have tended over the years produce vegetables, sugar beets, potatoes and excellent pasturage for dairy cows, sheep, and goats (26% of that land is arable). They produce sufficient agricultural items so that they are an exporter of foodstuffs. They even have some oil reserves, but in general, they are an importer of petroleum products.

The capital is Amsterdam where we started our biking/barging vacation. It is a big, sophisticated metropolis with all the amenities of any modern European city: art museums, a world-renowned concert hall, live theater, dance companies, a broad array of different ethnic restaurants and neighborhoods. Because of the excellent public transportation system (buses, trams, taxis) and the widespread use of bicycles, the traffic did not seem very congested most of the time. However, we were on foot for our exploration of the Dutch capital. From a bicycle, even one car feels like a lot of traffic.

The government is a constitutional monarchy with Queen Beatrix having become the monarch in l980. Though several of the areas now constituting The Netherlands declared their independence from Spain in 1579, the present country called the Kingdom of the Netherlands was founded in 1815, after the defeat of Napoleon. The population is 16 3

million in a country about twice the size of New Jersey. Geographically, the nation is very important because it is located at the mouths of three of Europe’s largest rivers: the Rhine, the Meuse, and the Schelde. It was surprising for us to learn that calling The Netherlands Holland is using a misnomer since Holland is the name of one of the regions of the country. It would be tantamount to calling the USA by the name of Georgia or Oregon!

Current problems in the Netherlands include growing unemployment and unrestrained immigration that is changing the previously homogeneous culture, religion and ethnicity of the country, resulting in some social strife with occasional violence. The Dutch are a very tolerant people so it is surprising to Americans to learn that “soft” drugs, prostitution, homosexuality, and euthanasia are all perfectly legal there.

The Dutch are a resilient people too and no doubt, they will surmount these problems as well as earlier ones that involved religious strife during the Reformation, invasion during World War II and several economic depressions and collapses.

Belgium This small country (about the size of Maryland) was originally part of the territory of The Netherlands but it broke away in 1830 to form the Kingdom of Belgium, currently a parliamentary constitutional monarchy under King Albert II who ascended the throne in l993. The population of Belgium is 10,000,000 but it is culturally and historically more diverse than its sister state. Actually, there are three distinct regions in the nation and two of them have been granted considerable local autonomy in their own governance since relations between the areas is often thorny. This form of government is working fairly well now and the European Union has motivated the populace to work together more amicably so that all citizens can profit by the economic growth generated by the state’s centrality to the political and financial administration of the EU.Like The Netherlands, Belgium is bordered by the North Sea and therefore has excellent ports 4

that have created a great part of their prosperity. It is a thoroughly modern society with all the conveniences Americans believe necessary to their wellbeing. Agriculture is very similar to that in The Netherlands with much the same products being grown and exported. Belgium has no oil reserves so all its energy must be imported.

Belgium has not encouraged or permitted the open immigration policies of the Dutch; therefore, it has not experienced the social instabilities due to culture clashes. There is a significant Islamic population there (around 10%), but it is not as fractious or divisive as that of the Dutch.

Shared Characteristics The Dutch and the Belgians enjoy a friendly rivalry based on shared history. While The Netherlands became predominantly Protestant during the Reformation years, the Belgians remained mostly Roman Catholic. Both are tolerant countries with easy drug and sex laws. Both are very bikefriendly and encourage their populations to use pedal power as much as possible in commuting to work, for pleasure, and for running all errands.

Therefore, the roadways almost always have pink bike paths on both edges. There are bike paths all over the countries. Most laws favor biker rights over auto drivers in terms of right of way and the “rules of the road.”

Both the Dutch and the Belgians had stories to illustrate the difference in their national characteristics. The Dutch are known, like the Scots, for their frugality. The Belgian joke has the Dutch owner of a restaurant lamenting when he sees a family of five Dutch folk enter his store. He says ruefully to a waitress, “Well, that’ll be one glass with 5 straws!” But the Dutch say that the Belgians are big party animals and just want to have fun.

So it’s the dour and practical Dutch against the fun-loving and freespending Belgians, according to their own lights.

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We found both of these peoples to be generous and helpful to tourists.

Most of the folks we met added to our enjoyment of this visit to their homelands because of their friendliness and outgoing personalities. Both were willing to talk about national domestic problems with us and seemed interested in getting more understanding of American citizens since the picture painted of us in European media is not particularly flattering because of the Iraq situation and George W’s bumptious attitude towards Europe. They definitely seemed able to separate us from the actions of our government!

BIKING LOGISTICS Our bicycle exploration of the Low Countries started in Amsterdam and went south to Bruges, Belgium—a distance of 107 miles as the “gray heron flies” (he was the largest bird we saw in either country and looked like a slightly smaller version of our great blue heron). However, bike paths, back roads through tiny hamlets, and canals do not make for a straight shot! I have no true idea of how many miles we biked and barged between those two cities, but I do know that it was quite a bit more than direct route figure. We were told that we biked at least 30 miles a day for seven days (sometimes more) and we know that the barge moved constantly on the canals as we biked and then many times sailed on at night while we tried to rest our broken butts in anticipation of the next day.

However, none of that really tells the true story because, as in mountain hiking where the full test is not in the miles traveled, but in the altitudes gained and lost, in Low Country biking it’s not in the miles pedaled, but in the headwinds you fight all the way. Because we were barging from North to South, we had constant southeast winds in our faces, no matter which way the paths seemed to twist and turn. Always, the wind pushed us backwards or tried to.

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Our guides informed us that the winds are always from the southeast at this time of year so we wondered often and aloud, why they didn’t start this itinerary in Bruges so we could bike northward towards Amsterdam with the winds at our backs?! We would have all been really happy with a strong tailwind—that’s the only thing we would have appreciated that had anything to with “tails, rears, butts or nether regions.”

As already mentioned, the VBT bikes were superb, capable of many adjustments to make riding more comfortable, terrific gear mechanisms, light weight frames, and were easy to handle. On the second day of biking, Kay, Betsy and Lois were all in excruciating pain in their left knees. Those joints were so sore that we didn’t even want to let the leg just rotate on the pedals without pushing at all. We figured that the way we had the bikes set up on that quick evening fitting had been anatomically or mechanically incorrect. We were all afraid that the entire bike trip was over for us because our knees hurt so much.

However, Wouter and one of our fellow travelers quickly diagnosed the problems and made the right adjustments to the bikes in terms of seat and handlebar height and angle. Then, with some big doses of Advil and a night’s rest, we were ready to go again and did not suffer that particular discomfort again. That was a big relief since the “bottom” never really relented.

The other negative with the biking was the anxiety caused by the traffic because the roads are quite narrow and trucks whizzing by at close range never got to feel routine or safe. One member of our group was actually clipped by a truck on one of the big roads and lost his rearview mirror in the encounter. All of us were freaked by that way too close call! This fellow was one of our most experienced bikers as well so that didn’t help us “fraidy cats” at all.However, enough about the negatives—what was really good about the biking part of this trip?

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First of all, we didn’t gain any weight even though we ate considerable amounts of food (we actually lost a couple of pounds). So biking 6-8 hours a day is good weight loss exercise! Next, when we were on the bike paths without auto traffic interference, biking through the countryside was terrific and downright fun! Third, we saw so many wonderful farms, baby animals with their doting mothers at this time of year, beautiful flowers both wild and domestic (but no tulips—wrong time of year for them), lush pastures and rich farmlands, beautiful old churches, fascinating representative Dutch architecture, and met some wonderful folks along the way as well. Lastly, we had all wanted an active vacation and this certainly was one. We worked hard at our biking, we were ready to return to the barge at night for R & R, and we proved to ourselves that our pre-trip training had really paid off! Therefore, despite the pain problems, we enjoyed being peddlers in this land of so many native biker people.

BIKES MOVED BETWEEN BOAT DOCKINGS 8

HOME AWAY FROM HOME Marguerite, our cozy and comfortable barge, was quite an interesting little vessel. It was small, holding only 20 passengers in 10 staterooms, 4 crew (captain, mate, chef and a lovely general factotum, Rebecca), and only one of our two guides per night.

Besides the very small cabins, there was a tiny sundeck with two tables and 9 chairs for sitting outside, a lounge area in front of a bar with seating for about 12 of us at any one time, and a dining area with three tables fitted into a miniscule space.

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The only problem with the “eating section” was that the noise level rose during our dinner hours to the point everyone was literally shouting to make his tablemates hear him. Because we were all talking louder and louder, the din we created naturally increased steadily. It actually became 10

very unnerving at times to the point that Sharon and Kay had to excusethemselves from the table to go below to gather their wits and serenity before returning to enjoy another course.

Because the Marguerite plied only the canal and river waters, the ride was smooth as a successful pickpocket’s touch. We floated along at a “Cleopatra on her barge speed” in stately dignity. Never was there the slightest indication that we were actually on the water. This vessel is under the French flag though it hoists the Netherlands and Belgium flags when it is in their waters. VBT is the sole leaser of the Marguerite and it is a good investment for them The best part of the barging was the convenience factor. Once we were aboard, we did not have to pack and repack every time we reached a new destination. We were bringing our own hotel right along with us and that alone was worth the price of admission. As we biked along, often the barge 11

moved ahead on the canals, so we could occasionally have lunch on the barge, or meet it somewhere if we were ready to stop biking for the day. It appeared that the captain sometimes got mooring rights only for designated hours since we were often reminded of the necessity of getting to the barge on time or being left behind.

Scenery The barge showed us different kinds of scenery as we were cruising along the farming heart of the countries. When we saw little towns and villages from the barge, it was an entirely different view since we were seeing everything from waterside. This gave us the opportunity to see more of the Low Country landscapes than the bike trip alone would have afforded.

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The food on the barge as I have already hinted was totally excellent.

Breakfasts were buffet style with wonderful European cereals (rather like muesli) and dried fruit to accompany the cereal or you could have a more typically American style breakfast with eggs, bacon, toast made of several kinds of breads, or perhaps one of the lightest croissants ever. Deli meats and fresh fruits completed the breakfast fare. Lunches on board were also buffet style and consisted usually of salads, small meat portions of chicken or pork, a veggie and some light dessert, such as flan or another custard.

Usually, however, lunch was off the barge and consisted of snacks of large Dutch waffle cookies filled with some sort of caramel filling (really quite tasty), granola bars and an apple or banana when we met the van driver.

Otherwise it was necessary to stop somewhere at a restaurant or pub for lunch on your own. The four of us never resorted to that option however.

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Suppers were the occasion when our young German chef, Marcus, really displayed his skills. His kitchen was uncomfortably small and it was hard to believe he could turn out 20 delicious four-course meals every night in such close quarters. Rebecca was the server but she did not really help Marcus in the meal preparation. We usually had soup or a salad, a meat course with starch and vegetables, a cheese course, and then a scrumptious dessert. We had fish on three of our seven days on board and veal on one, with chicken and pork on the other three days. All the meals were interesting, different, and unreservedly delicious! Evening meals were always served in courses as well so we usually sat for the meal at least a couple of hours. Though soft drinks, wine and liquor cost money at the bar, during the evening meal a bottle of red and a bottle of white wine were available (free) at each table. Since none of the four of us drink much wine, we were desired tablemates for obvious reasons. We often used our wine to bargain for more pitchers of water since we seemed to be thirsty throughout the trip. Lots of exercise in the wind, I suppose. A couple of really hot days increased our thirst even more.

The Marguerite was such a comfortable little boat that it is easy to see why many OAT travelers choose to barge their way through Holland and Belgium without ever having to ride a bicycle! Actually all of us could see ourselves signing up for another barging vacation in another part of Europe—that’s how pleasant this mode of travel is!

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HOSTS, GUIDES, AND FELLOW BIKERS We had six folks working to make the 20 of us travelers’ happy wanderers. Willie, our captain, is Dutch and has many years of experience piloting barges on these waterways. He appeared to be in his late 30s, seemed to have a girl in every port, though he was rather ordinary looking.

His English was adequate for necessary communication but he was difficult to understand in ordinary conversation. He did seem to grow more relaxed with us as the week progressed. Jan (pronounced like Yan) was the hand on the barge. His English was scanty so he did a lot of smiling and nodding at us. He too was Dutch and seemed to be very amenable to Willie’s needs— jumping ashore to tie the barge to the mooring points, casting off when it was time, probably taking turns at the wheel as well. He looked very young, maybe in his 20s, and he too had a girlfriend or girlfriends in various ports along the way.

Marcus was our chef, a German of about 35 years probably. His English was somewhere between Willie’s and Jan’s. He could certainly make himself understood but he didn’t “get” jokes and he made a couple of obvious faux pas because he did not really understand the language very well. However, of the language of the kitchen he was a perfect master.

Amazingly enough, he spends his vacations from his cooking chores in Bakersfield, California, just hanging around and seeing some of the country.

Several of our California fellow passengers were very eager to see if they could welcome him into their homes and perhaps talk him into preparing a meal for a special event of theirs. We never heard any definite arrangements completed, so probably Marcus does not want to spend his time off cooking!

Rebecca was the server, the cabin stewardess and the bartender. She is an English girl somewhere in her twenties as well. Her accent was a little thick to our American ears but we had no trouble understanding her unless she mumbled which she sometimes did. She was pleasant, helpful and 16

agreeable and seemed to relish this life rather than just sitting around in some small English town waiting for something to happen. Because she has very dark hair, she didn’t look particularly English, though she did have lovely blue eyes and an excellent complexion.

Wouter was the lead guide and a good thing that was too! He is a Dutch fellow apparently in his late 30s or early 40s. He is about 6’3” tall and very well put together. He has blonde hair and light blue eyes and a stereotypically “square” Dutch head.

Apparently, biking is his joy as well as his vocation, though he assured us he does have other jobs besides tourist guiding, such as consulting with companies on how to deal with difficult employees or customers, and teaching leadership skills to employees hoping to rise in their companies.

His English is super and he has quite a good sense of humor.

He was unfailingly helpful and could fix a bike in nothing flat no matter what its problem and he was able to perform miracles of bike adjustments to make the riders more comfortable. He knew how to change the angles of the seats and the handlebars to make the bike “fit” the rider. He could also expertly drive the van and easily rack up the bikes at the end of the rides.

He seemed to genuinely like people and to enjoy evening meals with us on those days when he was aboard the van.

We were all pretty excited when Wouter told us that he would be joining a private expedition of 8 people, led by a close friend of his from high school days, to bicycle the Himalayas in the Ladakh region of India for a month beginning in July this year. And, because he had already told us about some of his previous biking experiences (like pedaling with his girlfriend from Toronto to San Francisco and from Paris to Athens), we all know that he will have no trouble at all with his Indian bicycle trek. During that period, they will cover at least 14 mountains and many more very high passes. It should be a grueling trip and, to make it worse, they will be carrying all their supplies—food, tents, camping gear, water—the works.

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But if anyone is up to that challenge, it is certainly Wouter—an extremely fit fellow indeed. We all requested that he let us know how the trip goes, especially if he has access to e-mail during the ordeal—I mean, vacation!

Eep (pronounced like English “ape”) was the apprentice guide though we did not know that at first. A more different man, though also Dutch, can hardly be imagined. Eep appears to be in his late 40s or even early 50s (he would probably be chagrined if he knew some of us had guessed his age that high), slightly built, medium in height with thinning brownish hair, and a very bookish appearance. Almost everything that Wouter was, Eep was not—except that both of them are thoughtful and kind men.

Only later into the trip, we learned that Eep had been summoned hastily from his guide-training course in Dijon, France, to help Wouter because the fellow who was originally scheduled to work the trip had taken seriously ill and required surgery. So it was Eep to the rescue, except most of the time every one of us, including Wouter, felt we were in the business of saving Eep from himself! He clearly is not cut out for this job and his common sense quotient on this topic is not very high. Furthermore, he often became quite frantic when things went wrong and that was most of the time if he was in charge. For instance, we had not gone more than 200 yards on the first bike ride of the trip when several members of the group went off on a wrong turn, another group followed Eep until he realized that several folks were missing, and a third group set off in another direction altogether. Despite Eep’s biking back and forth frenetically trying to find the missing bikers, we never were reunited until everyone somehow turned up at the barge!

Once again, it must be made clear that Eep is likeable and sincerely wanted to do a good job, both for us and himself. It turns out that he had returned home to The Netherlands only two years ago, after having taught in Japan, Curacao, other smaller Caribbean islands, Columbia and other exotic locales. He speaks several languages including Japanese fluently and is a university-trained linguist. He has taught in colleges and universities 18

(linguistics) and also informally teaches English as a second language in all those places. Currently, however, Eep is way underemployed in his native land. He has not been able to secure a university post at home because of severe government cutbacks in education and probably also because he is not part of the “old-boy” system that controls most institutions of higher education. Having been out of his own country for 17 years would definitely have kept him out of the loop. So he has been reduced to trying to find private students for English instruction, to substitute teach in high schools where he lives (Aalmeer), and to teaching Japanese twice a week at a local adult continuing education college. With a daughter at University (she is in her 20s) and another 14-year-old girl in high school as well as his wife to support, he clearly is not earning sufficient money. That’s why he answered the VBT advertisement for biking guides! He has contracted for 7 of these trips and he is determined to fulfill that promise. We all wonder if he will be able to or if VBT will want him to do so. However, it is obvious that he needs the money very badly. So we all wish him well.

Needless to say, Eep’s English is perfect and very interesting to hear because he often chooses different (but quite correct) words than those we are accustomed to hearing. He has an excellent sense of humor and can easily make jokes at his own expense as well as satirical remarks about life in general. He is obviously a very intelligent and educated man. However, his language skills do not translate into the set of abilities that make a good guide. He got lost all the time on the routes we took from town to town and on to the barge mooring point. He had no idea about how to follow a group, “sweeping up” the laggards and keeping them from getting lost. He also did not know how to lead a group and most often he was way ahead of the group and therefore could not know if troubles arose, such as flat tires, lost “ducklings,” or biker’s being puzzled about which road to take at crossroads. We were usually left to figure it out for ourselves and, then later, poor Eep would come racing up to the group dripping with relief that he had finally located us again. He was a good cyclist himself and could 19

easily leave the pack in his dust—but that was not his job. This was not the “Tour de France” for him. Even worse for Eep were the days when it was his turn to drive the van with the bicycle rack trailer behind it (he and Wouter took turns leading us on the road and driving the van to catch up with us and the barge). Actually those days were terrifying for anyone on the road with him or those riding in the van because they were tired of biking! Eep probably had not driven a car in the 17 years he was out of his home country and he hadn’t bought one since returning. His driving skills therefore were minimal if present at all. We have it from Sharon and others in our group who did dare to ride with him occasionally that he ran red lights, went down one-way streets the wrong way, sped in tight places where a slow speed was requisite, clipped parked cars as he flew by, yelled questions in panic about whether or not he had sufficient room and then completely ignored the answers coming from his passengers that he did not have enough passing room. On at least one occasion he stopped suddenly without warning and threw the van passengers into the floorboards.

Whenever we bikers arrived somewhere at the same time as the van unloaded its riders, we would see the drained and whitened faces and wobbly knees of our fellow tourists. How some of them got back into the van with him once they had survived a single ride was beyond most of us to understand.

Most of the time, poor Eep went about with a strained yet eager look on his face as he bumbled from one task to the next. Wouter is a very nice man who could have just crushed Eep with sarcasm and justified complaints about his job performance, but he never did put him down or admonish him—at least not in front of any of us! The only time Eep looked happy and relaxed at all was at meals when he could converse with us at the table and on the occasion of his Dutch language class in the barge lounge. He used a chalkboard to teach us many handy Dutch phrases such as “My name is … and What is your name, please and thank you, I speak only English, where is the toilet” and the like. We were all cooperative 20

students (probably because we were all so relieved to see Eep finally doing something he clearly relished and excelled at). The beatific smile on his face as he wrote more words on his blackboard to answer our questions was a reassuring sight to see. This man clearly needs to be teaching at university again (certainly not in high school where he is admittedly no match for his obstreperous and unruly students—he had already told us about being shoved up against a wall in his classroom by a really big 15 year old who was unhappy with his grade on a paper). However, the ironic but typical fact about our class was that it came a couple of days late—we were already in Belgium when we got the Dutch language class. Eep did reassure us that most Belgians in the areas we would be visiting also spoke and understood some Dutch since their language is very similar there. Poor Eep—always a day late and a dollar short!

Just as we want to know how Wouter fares on that biking expedition in India, we all want to know what happens to Eep over the next 6 biking/barging trips and ever afterwards. He did tell some of us that if he can’t get proper employment in the next few months, he will probably be forced to return to Japan. His wife who is Japanese does not want to do that however because she feels so constrained in her own society by the position of women there and her own role in her family.

Fellow Travelers We were 20 intrepid bikers on this trip, ranging in age from the oldest at 78 and the youngest at 53. There were 6 men and 12 women. Besides the 4 of us traveling together from Jacksonville, there were 6 friends (couples) together from the same area just above Los Angeles. California was definitely the state with the most folks represented: 9 people, and there was only one non-USA citizen—Nancy, from South Porcupine, Ontario!

Most of the travelers had been on other biking vacations and all of 21

them did much more local and casual biking than any of the four of us.

Several had actually been on many biking trips, so we were definitely novices among these folks. The majority of us were retired but there were at least three were still employed.

After the usual initial “primary tension” exhibited as new groups of folks get to know each other, the group was compatible and friendly. Though we started out biking in about three distinct “pelletons,” by the last few days we were much more organized. Then we stayed pretty much together as we biked along trying to find our way despite the confusing “trip notes” as we attempted to meet the barge on schedule.

CITIES, TOWNS, AND VILLAGES The larger cities we visited were Amsterdam, Antwerp, Ghent and Bruges (Brugge to the Dutch and Belgians). All are wonderfully wellpreserved medieval cities with fascinating and very different histories of their own. Considering that The Low Countries have been war arenas so often over the centuries, it is miraculous that so much of their architecture and infrastructure have survived from the 8th and 9th centuries, much less the high Middle Ages and beyond from the 14th to the 16th centuries. A visit to these places can be an education in European history or at least the catalyst to education as one learns about the buildings and the culture that produced them.

So off we go!

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BIKING IN THE NETHERLANDS AMSTERDAM We spent three days in Amsterdam prior to the start of the biking portion of our trip. Our hotel, the City Center, was well located just a block or two from the Dam Platz (or Central Square) and about 10-minute walk from the Central Station, (a wonderful 18th century elaborate and highly decorated building). Just about everything starts at one of those two places. The tramlines passed within 100 yards of the hotel and everything else was in easy walking distance: Anne Frank House, the Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh Museum, the Concertgebouw, the Red Light District, all the famous churches, the wonderful “Central Park” of the city called the Vondelpark, all the centermost canals, the Sunday Floating Flower Market, the Beguinehof, and plenty of restaurants of all ethnicities.

Probably the most eye-catching things about this famous city are the building tops (gables).

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When you look up in the streets, you see at least six varieties of building toppers. Almost everyone has a hook hanging from it that is used for hauling furniture and other things into the upper stories. There are six basic gable styles: step, point, bell, spout, neck and cornice; the terms are fairly self-descriptive actually. These decorations give Amsterdam its characteristic appearance. The other immediately noticeable trait of these buildings is their leaning out towards the street, or settling into the next building, or even rearing backwards away from the street. Many of the buildings look a little drunk really. This phenomenon is caused by the fact that The Netherlands is built on swamps and reclaimed lands—spongy and very “giving” soft alluvial clays—so structures settle over the years at crazy angles. Amsterdam is such an old city (it dates from the 13th century) that it is built mainly on wooden pilings that decay and cause even more dramatic tilting and slanting. (The Town Hall in the Dam Platz is built on 13,000 wooden pilings!) The whole effect is rather like the “drunken forests” one sees in areas of permafrost where the subsoil ice melts and causes shifting and tipping among the short and bitten trees.

The Dutch capital has 800,000 residents and is reputed to contain 5 million bicycles. Moreover, it is true that Amsterdammers ride their bikes everywhere in every kind of clothing: to church, to work, to restaurants, to concerts, to visit friends and family.

Despite the rather dissolute appearance of its structures, Amsterdam has a certain grandeur as well. Its churches and cathedrals, though often turned into museums, are certainly mighty constructions testifying to the wealth of the city in the 16th century the so-called Golden Age. We were so lucky in our “churchgoing” because we usually got to see or hear something special going on inside—organ concerts, choir practices, and amazing photo displays of Queen Beatrix in 26 different looks at her life as shot by that many different photographers.

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Rijksmuseum Though the Rijksmuseum is currently under renovation, the curators have made sure that the tourists are not disappointed. There is a two-story annex next door that has been filled with the pictures that visitors want to see most including Rembrandt’s “The Night Watch”, three paintings by Vermeer, with “Lady Reading a Letter”, and representative works of the other famous Dutch artists.

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In some ways, it’s good thing for most tourists with limited time and tired legs because all the most famous pictures are much easier to see than when they are spread all over the huge Rijksmuseum itself.

The Vondelpark and the Red Light District are interesting because they present two very different but quite common aspects of Amsterdam and Dutch life. Prostitution is not only legal in The Netherlands, but the ladies of the evening are allowed to advertise their services and their wares quite openly. As dusk begins to shroud the city and hide the sin, they stand or sit in the windows of their various establishments, dressed revealingly and provocatively with flattering lighting making the most of their “show”.

What is so amusing and so banal about the display is the casualness of their stances, some sitting comfortably in easy chairs, some on stools, some drinking a soft drink or cup of coffee, some talking on their “mobiles” or to the girl in the next window. When a fellow likes what he sees, he enters the house and then the curtain in front of that prostitute’s window is closed so

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it is obvious that she is “singularly occupied.” Instead of a whiff of decadence and evil, the whole scene looks boring and quite ordinary.

Vondelpark In the Park on the other hand, tourists can observe Amsterdammers at more innocent pursuits: people watching, picnicking, pushing babies around in prams, observing their kids playing, exercising their dogs, biking, playing games like badminton and volleyball. We watched several young fellows perfecting various tricks on their inline skates, working at the practice quite seriously too. There are places to buy food and drink if folks fail to bring their own supplies. Birds of various kinds are busily flitting around the wonderful trees and shrubs as well as floating and fishing on the lakes and streams there. Of course, there is a balloon man enticing the kids with his colorful “floaters” of various shapes and sizes. The park has many quiet spots to sit on comfortable benches to read or spy on the passersby. Other benches sit out brazenly in the sunshine where folks of all ages relax and chat. A wonderful city amenity is the Vondelpark where the Dutch can indulge in all their bourgeois pleasures.

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Kay and I couldn’t help but notice the difference in this park in 2005 than when we walked there early on a Sunday in the 70s. Though the tolerance for drug use is the same now as it was then, what we saw earlier was such a different scene.

As we strolled through the park on a chilly and misty morning, we saw many amorphous shapes on benches and crowded around trees. We would be startled as we saw gray rocks begin to shake and rise as the “druggies” uncovered themselves from their blankets to look blearily around at another day. Some didn’t like what they saw and would fold themselves back under their covers like Dracula folding his giant wings about himself. It was an eerie and somewhat threatening scene and we did not feel comfortable there at all. Nowhere around were there regular families disporting themselves, children squealing with the delight of running in the sunshine, dogs chasing Frisbees, or older folks quietly strolling arm in arm through the dappled sun and shade. It seemed an utterly alien place then— a bleakly futuristic look at a drugged-out culture. We certainly enjoyed it 28

much more this time around! Another thing we enjoyed very much was a delicious Dutch treat—the pannekoeken: the most delectable and various pancake we have ever tasted. They can be sweet with apples, cherries, or sugar OR they can be savory instead, filled with ham or veggies or cheese.

Or any combinations a person can imagine. These pancakes are light and thin and huge—they fill plates almost the size of pizza sheets. We found a place near the Anne Frank House called The Pancake Factory that we visited a couple of times.

Nieuwe Kirke (New Church) Amsterdam is a city of churches, though many of its citizens are not churchgoers today. There are five major old churches dating from the 13th century (the Old Church) and into the 17th century (the New Church).

Though the Protestant Reformation was triumphant in this part of Holland, the Catholic Church has retained the most faithful churchgoers today.

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The Beguinehof An unexpected find for us was the Beguinehof that was only about two blocks from our hotel. What an island of silence and serenity in the hustlebustle of the big city.

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This complex dates from the 1200s when laywomen banded together to live in communities dedicated to serving the poor and sick as well as being independent of their own families in meeting their own needs. These women were not nuns though they were often religious folk and at the time of their beginnings, they were most certainly Roman Catholic.

At present there are two churches in the compound—a protestant one associated with the Pilgrim Fathers who founded the United States (of course the building had been started as a Catholic church but during the Reformation, it was converted to a Presbyterian church). During and after Reformation times, Catholics were not allowed to practice their religion openly, so they often had “hidden churches”—attics in a rich person’s home, empty buildings, and even chapels disguised as something else.

Hidden Chapel and English Church In this Beguinehof, there is one of 31

those hidden chapels. And a lovely little place it is. It is tucked away in one of the several-storied buildings that make up the compound. All the buildings are attached to one another making a nice circular wall for the inner courtyard. The oldest wooden building in Amsterdam is here as well —dating from 1472!

At present, this lovely oasis serves as subsidized housing for elderly poor people of both genders.

Flower Market Another happy experience in Amsterdam was visiting the floating flower market. What a treat for the eyes! There were many little shops perched on barges floating on the canal and each one was obviously vying with its neighbors for the most artful and colorful display of flowers.

Many were species we were familiar with such as oleander, clematis, even lantana, roses, salvia, geraniums, lilies, and even some tulips still. Others were completely unknown to us. But flowers really do thrive in the cool and damp Dutch weather.

We were astounded to see marijuana plants, seeds and starter kits on sale among the gorgeous flowers! So awful to realize that here anyone can buy and grow the plants and at home people are jailed for possessing even minute amounts and really sick people are denied the comfort the drug can often provide.

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Prudence dictated that we didn’t try to bring any home with us. Kay & Betsy exercised their cameras to the full in this riot of colors, enormous flowers, luxuriant shrubs and even palms. The Dutch are not just excellent water managers; they are terrific and enthusiastic gardeners as well.

The Canoe Adventure Before we joined the barge, we took a canoe trip just outside of Amsterdam in a wetlands area surprisingly close to the big city. The company was called Wetlands Safaris and we had arranged the adventure through the Internet. We were to meet our guide and the other canoeists at the Central Station at 9:00 a.m. on Friday morning. We had been instructed to wear shoes that could get wet and to expect to be wet ourselves. Since it was sprinkling rain on us as we walked to the Central Station, we figured we would get damp one way or another.

Promptly at nine, a tall thin gentleman approached our little foursome and asked if we were the “canoeing ladies.” It turned out that we were the only folks ready to canoe that day. So Ap (pronounced like “op”) led us to a city bus and paid for our tickets and we left the city behind pretty quickly.

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It’s amazing to think that we could reach the countryside on a city bus ride from the center of town in about 30 minutes. Nevertheless, it was true. The bus stopped in front of a little pub in a tiny little country town (Dutch name translated as “Waterland”) and we clambered out. The pub was open for business and we all used the restroom before getting into the canoe and Ap told the proprietors we would be back to buy something afterwards.

Kay and I were put into one red canoe and Sharon and Betsy joined Ap in another and off we went down a very narrow “ditch” about 100 yards long until we reached a wider canal.

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But whether skinny or broad, the canals were lined with little houses and farms; we were looking into their backyards for the most part. Over the main canal and the cross canals in the small town were wonderful little 35

pedestrian drawbridges but we just ducked really low into our canoes and got under them without forcing anyone to demonstrate how the bridges actually worked.

The rain had let up by now though it remained overcast and we paddled around the little town greeting folks on the bank and learning something about the water management practices of the Dutch over the years.

We saw several functioning diminutive windmills that are still valuable in small towns like this one.

We saw one farm that illustrated a point Ap made about how the hydraulics work in this waterlogged country— the farmland and the house and barn actually were rising higher as the water table pushed nearer the surface.

This farm had been here for many years so that it actually looked as though it had been built on a hill. In this part of Holland, there are no natural hills! We were surprised to see that several new houses were being built in “The Water Lane” and that wood houses were being replaced by brick ones—strange on this spongy clay! Why would the folks put heavier structures here? They will probably sink rather than rise, according to Ap. 36

Probably the explanation is the one AP gave us. Most of these new places are being built by city folks as country cottages and those people will never farm the land or actually live here. Already the local grammar school is facing closure because there are not enough children to justify the expense of maintaining a school. Small towns surrounding big Dutch cities are facing the same situation. After we are gotten the feel of our canoes, Ap led us under the highway into a much broader and deeper canal and then into the wetlands areas.

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This section looked very like the swamp “prairies” we are used to in Georgia. There were taller grasses and reeds and many sphagnum mosses punctuated by sundews and other swamp plants. These are fields and marshes owned by the farmers who are paid to keep the two feet closest to the canals covered in reeds and marsh grasses for the birds. Furthermore, they do little cultivation of the areas, but instead let their livestock graze.

The government also pays the farmers to find bird nests on the land and protect them from the animals’ hooves. From our canoes we were getting a “land level” view of the dual use preserve. We saw frogs and birds, even a marsh hawk hunting.

There were wildflowers blooming everywhere, but they were tiny and easy to miss—yellows mainly but some purples and reds among them too.

We were glad to have our guide with us all through these labyrinthine waterways otherwise we would probably still be there trying to find our way back to the little village.

About halfway through the exploration, Ap had us beach the canoes and get out on the land—what a strange feeling. This land is like that in the Okefenokee Swamp—“land of the trembling earth.” It really does feel like that ground—springy, spongy and very wet when you stand in one place too long as the water wells up around your feet. Ap explained that sheep often get mired in these pastures of seeping water and have to be rescued by the farmer owners. It is truly surprising to note that when you jump up and down on this earth, ripples of motion run out from your footsteps just like what occurs when you throw a stone into the water.

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After we walked around a bit and experienced that phenomenon, we paddled on to an educational building connected with this reserve. We had a wonderful picnic lunch on the grounds of that facility while we watched students on a field trip learning about harvesting peat, taking core samples from the soft earth, and seeing what kinds of small creatures live in the waters of the preserve. Our lunch included none of those however; we feasted on local cheeses (really delicious), fresh homemade breads, fruit juices bottled locally only—apple and strawberry. What a wonderful picnic it was. Then unfortunately, it was time to paddle back into the tiny town and fulfill our promise to the pub owner. There we had hot tea and delicious Dutch waffle cookies. The whole canoeing experience was really special and we all were very glad that we hadn’t let such an opportunity get by us.

Pickpocket Disaster Unhappily, we couldn’t leave the Dutch capital without a really annoying and miserable mishap. On the tram coming back from the Van Gogh Museum on Saturday, Kay’s entire wallet was lifted from her fanny pack without her even suspecting. Later we realized that a diversion had been created nearby to distract her. During a few minutes when a young man apparently berated an elderly Chinese gentleman and demanded that he get out of his seat, someone deftly opened her fanny pack (even under the camera with its long lens resting atop it) and removed the wallet, even going so far as to zip the pack back up. That meant she didn’t realize what had happened until we tried to visit the Amsterdam City Museum about 30 minutes later and she realized that she no wallet to pay for her admission.

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The RakkenRoller (as the Dutch call their very talented light-fingered pickpockets) had gotten her passport with the Russian visa for our next trip attached, all her money which at that point was a good amount, her credit card, and a couple of checks she had brought with her. What a pain in the patootie (almost as bad as the biking discomfort we would experience later on in the trip)! The biggest problem for us was that we were unsure when we would be boarding the barge, but we thought it was Sunday afternoon with a Monday morning sailing. Because the American Consulate will do nothing for stranded American tourists on the weekend, we didn’t know how we were going to get the passport replaced and make the sailing as well. We had had no contact with anybody else from VBT or even our fellow travelers (it turned out that most of them were at a different hotel). We were in a quandary about what to do. But what we did know was that we would be at the Consulate before 8:00 a.m. on Monday morning.

We were greatly relieved when we finally saw Eep at the hotel check-in counter late Sunday afternoon and were able to tell someone “official” about our passport dilemma. He rescued us from our greatest anxiety by telling us that we would not be expected aboard the Marguerite until 40

Monday afternoon. So now we knew we had plenty of time to get the passport problem cleared up. Luckily, Sharon had brought two credit cards with her and she let us use one of them for the rest of the trip. However, we continued to be short of money the rest of time. So we depended upon the generosity of our friends rather the very untender mercies of the American Consulate.

Actually, it is quite surprising and dismaying to find just how indifferent the personnel in the Consulate are towards the many miserable Americans in Amsterdam who are pickpocket victims everyday despite all the warning signs all over town. They are completely unsympathetic to time constraints, planes to be caught, complete lack of money since people have lost everything. If you say you have no money to pay for the temporary passport because everything you had went with the wallet, the clerk just comments coolly, “Then I won’t be giving you a passport.” No suggestions about what you can do or where you can go for help. The folks in that office simply do not care what your problems are! We did worry about folks traveling alone who might experience this mishap; where would they get money to pay their way out of their dilemma.

Kay and I were indeed first in line and went through the incredible security system at about 8:40 a.m. when the folks were finally ready for us.

Remember, too, that they only deal with American tourists from 8:30 a.m. to ll:30 a.m. each day so as the line got longer behind us with other folks as upset as we were, the minutes of delay were more and more critical. Even though we had been told by the “duty officer” on Saturday that photos would be made at the consulate, we were quickly informed that was not so.

Therefore, we had to get out of line, run to two different places trying to have 4 (not just 2) photos made. The first place Kay ran to by herself was unable to help because their camera was broken. Folks in the line helped her call some other places on the list to make sure they were open for 41

business. We ran about a mile to the next place where the owner was kind.

He charged only half price for the photos since he understood that she had lost all her cash. Then we had to hurry to get back in line, but fortunately for us one of the security guards had recognized our plight and allowed us back into the “inner sanctum” without having to start all over again at the end of the by now very long line.

We informed the consular employee who administered the oath that we needed the passport before noon since the barge would be leaving us, but he was quite unimpressed too. He told us to go have a cup of coffee and come back around two to pick up the temporary passport. We “fell upon our swords” in abject misery in an effort to gain his sympathy and finally he reluctantly told us to wait in the inner room and we might get it before noon. At ll:20 a.m., Kay’s name was finally called to receive the passport and we happily left that house of misery but no pity. All’s well that ends well, according to Will, and we certainly accepted that philosophy. We joined Sharon and Betsy for lunch, eating our last pannenkoeken before walking from the hotel to the barge in the afternoon.

One important note here is that Eep immediately showed his thoughtfulness Sunday night when he offered to accompany us to the Consulate. When we declined, he gave us his tram tickets so that we could just hop on and off the tram without having to spend any of our now less than adequate cash or precious time to trying to figure out where to get a ticket.

We were all four very pleased to leave Amsterdam in the rearview mirrors of our bikes and head for the harbor and the next adventure!

Before crossing into Belgium, we visited several small towns. Among which were Kinderdijk and Willemstad.

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KINDERDIJK Another small town that deserves special mention of its own is Kinderdijk— the UNESCO site with 19 original windmills preserved in a typical Dutch landscape. This area of The Netherlands has been inhabited since the 10th century.

Each of the 19 mills was different in shape, building materials, style, and purpose. They dated from the early 1700s and were in use up until the early 20th century. When the mills were operational, a miller family lived in the structure and was responsible for its functioning. One mill is open at any one time for exploration and understanding how these fantastic “engines” are constructed and how they have served mankind here over the centuries: pumping water, grinding grains, cutting wood, and other uses too. Since 1868, steam engines have done most of the really heavy 43

lifting of the excess waters from a low reservoir to an upper one until the tide is out in the River Lek at which time the water is released from the upper reservoir to join the river on its run to the North Sea.

It is very exciting to approach this site on your bike because you see the windmill landscape slowly unfold before you as the bike path curves and reveals more and more of the structures in a line running before you. It’s dramatic—really!

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WILLEMSTAD Another small village worth naming was Willemstad, a lovely hamlet fortified since the Middle Ages to protect Antwerp and Rotterdam.

Today you can see the sides of the fortress and the World War II bunkers built into that ancient fortification.

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BIKING IN BELGIUM ANTWERP Antwerp, Belgium, has the 10th largest harbor in the world (Rotterdam is 1st and Shanghai 2nd and we do not know which is 3rd) and it was busy, busy, busy on the day we entered the area in our little Marguerite winding her way among the big tankers and container ships. Antwerpen (as the natives call her) is a very old city as well and it has its own rich history too.

It is named after a local fable concerning a greedy giant who charged folks too much for entering the harbor.

Finally, in a David and Goliath type ending, two young lads decide to end his tyranny and somehow one of them cuts off the giant’s left hand. In Flemish, the word for an amputation is “antwerpen” so that is why the city is so named.

We took an evening walk with Wouter and Eep along the Schelde River 47

and saw the Stone House, an 9th century (830s) building that has served variously as a town hall, a prison and now a maritime museum. It looks ancient and solid, with battlements on its four corners, and arrow slits visible in its stonewalls. It is the oldest building still standing in Antwerp.

We walked further along to see the big city square (“platz” with big government buildings on two sides, a cathedral on the third side and huge old warehouses now trendy places to live on the 4th part of the square.

Alongside the cobblestone square were restaurants of every kind offering dining al fresco in the soft spring evening air.

Antwerpens surely do enjoy their times to be outdoors because the tables were filled everywhere we looked. A huge fountain in front of the city hall commemorated the defeat of the rapacious giant. Lights began to wink on as we strolled around the area and soon the “platz” was even more inviting as stonewalls of the structures glowed in the golden light. The folks 48

became merrier and it was clear that they would be partying for a long while yet. Before we left Antwerp, we were treated to a visit to Diamond Land where we were reminded that Antwerp is the diamond cutting capital of the world. Sixty-seven percent of the world’s diamonds are cut here, no matter where they come from. Jewish artisans are still dominant in this exacting trade. It is a skill learned through apprenticeship and is often a family affair. We watched several men at work and marveled at their calm concentration since one miscalculation can ruin any stone! Our lovely guide informed us that diamond purchasing should be predicated on the 4 C’s: clarity, cut, carats, and cost! We did see some members of our group purchasing items, but I don’t think anyone actually bought any diamonds. It as an interesting visit even though we did not shop.

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RUPLEMONDE Ruplemonde was another quaint little town—its most prominent citizen had been Mercator of the world-map-projection fame. There was a monument to him in front of the big church of the town celebrating the achievement of this mathematician and mapmaker.

The many other little towns and hamlets we sped through on our bikes or floated by on the barge were lovely, rustic and somewhat of a piece.

Small houses with thatched roofs often and little farms around them. There were some clever barns to see as well—barns with “floating rooftops” that lifted higher and higher on four poles at the corners as the hay bales underneath were piled higher and higher. These operated just like floating docks that move appropriately with the tides. Lovely fat dairy cows and goats and even some deer raised as pets were part of the passing tableaux.

We saw chickens and ducks as well as the most fetching little ponies, one a 50

mare with a recent foal who was so curious about these strange creatures riding up on even weirder wheeled contraptions. Most of the little villages had a similar perfume as well—earthy, tincture of manure, swampy, and the sweet breath of cattle mixed to produce a not unpleasant aroma of the country life in this very verdant land.

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TEMSE – HOME HOSTED MEAL Having traveled with Grand Circle Travel, the parent company of both Overseas Adventure Travel and Vermont Bicycle Travel, we were not surprised when we were informed that we would have a “home visit” somewhere along our route while on the barge. Getting its vacationers together with the “locals” is an important part of the experience that Grand Circle wants to provide as an extra on its trips. This meaningful and enjoyable part of our trip happened in Temse, Belgium! And what an emotional and satisfying event it was too.

We learned from our host families that earlier in the year, VBT advertised in the local newspaper for families interested in entertaining American tourists in their homes. GCT pays a small stipend to families willing to participate, but since most of the hosts for our group were obviously upper middle class economically, we doubt that the money was the major motivating factor for them. Ninety families answered that invitation. There were 20 of us so there were four host families. Wouter strongly suggested that folks traveling together separate for this event so that we could discuss our different experiences when we returned.

Everyone agreed that was a good idea so that is how it worked whenever possible.

The host families came on board the Marguerite about four in the afternoon and our newly formed groups joined a family to be driven to their home. In my group were Sue, John, Roger, Jim and myself. We visited the modest but quite comfortable home of Rudy, Anita and Johann Maes.

Rudy had worked at the Temse Shipyards for 38 years before it went bankrupt and left not only Rudy but much of the town (3500 employees) economically devastated. The shipyard had operated from 1829 until 1994.

Rudy was given a good severance pension and has been able to live comfortably for the 11 years since the disruption.

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Their younger son Johann (30 years old) still lives at home and works in heating and air-conditioning. He has just bought a home that needs extensive renovations and is about to start that project. However, he believes he will be living at home for at least another two years since the renovations will most probably take him that long to complete.

The Maes house was small but comfortable and has many of the expected amenities—a very well equipped kitchen and a television but no computer. Their real luxury was their beautiful backyard. Anita is quite the gardener. The small area was shaded with lovely trees and there were many little nooks and crannies in the garden with interesting plants to see.

While the other families entertained their Americans inside their homes, the Maes family had us sit out in the delightful garden. The weather was perfect for it as well and the time just sped by and all too soon it was time for us to be taken back to the barge.

We learned during our visit that Anita is not only a gardener, but a painter, a lace-maker, a jewelry artisan, and a gourmet cook! She and Rudy also have taken up Greek dancing and they not only dance at least once weekly, they teach the skill at the local social club. They have visited Greece three times and Rudy has even made the pilgrimage to Mt. Athos and its five monasteries twice. He showed us a wonderful album of pictures he has taken on his visits there and it is clear that he is an excellent amateur photographer, another of his hobbies. Both of them also have learned to speak Greek so that when they visit their friends there, they can speak the local language.

Rudy admitted two things to us as we were unashamedly enjoying the sweets Anita served us as well as the Greek wine and Belgian beer that Rudy provided to accompany these homemade delicacies. First, he said he had been devastated with the loss of his job and had experienced a very bad time for more than a year afterwards. It was then that he and Anita took up the Greek dancing and became interested in Greek culture both 53

ancient and modern. That enthusiasm had helped him climb out of the depression that he had fallen into. Secondly, he told us that he had signed up to host American tourists because he wanted the chance to meet some ordinary people from the USA so he could form his own opinion about them. He said that the European media are very negative about the USA due to the Iraq War and the other areas of conflict between Europe and the USA. Because his father-in-law had never allowed a bad word to be said in his presence about Americans, Rudy wanted to judge for himself. His father-in- law never forgot nor would he let others around him forget that the American soldiers had liberated Europe from the Nazi hell at great personal sacrifice and that many brave and selfless men had given their own lives to save the Europeans. Rudy found it hard to believe, he said, that American had changed that much and he wanted to see for himself.

That, of course, put all of us under some pressure to prove that individual Americans are still good people and that many of us do not like the present course our government has taken. We only hope that we helped Rudy retain a good opinion of Americans.

Rudy’s English was much the best in that household. But Anita did not need a great deal of language to please us because her tiramisu, her fresh strawberry cake and a traditional Flemish pie like our Shoofly Pie spoke volumes for her as did her lovely paintings, her beautiful pieces of handmade lace, and the pieces of her personally designed and created jewelry with which she gifted us. Johann’s English was skimpy and he was a little shy but we were all blown away by the fact that he happily joined us for the get-together and was a gracious host along with his parents, jumping up to refill glasses of beer and water and trying to answer questions about his life and likes.

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A big plus in my home visit was the presence of a friend of Anita and Rudy—Emilie de Kerf. Emilie had lived in the USA from the age 6 to age 19 and her English was without accent and perfect. Therefore, whenever we hit a snag in the conversation, Emilie was there to translate and make everything come clear again. She was a vivacious woman with a good sense of humor and we were all pleased that she was present as well. She definitely added greatly to our experience.

Kay went with Eddie and Rita at their upper middle class home. Eddie is a fertilizer sales representative on an international basis and he does very well. Rita served beers, sparkling waters, cheeses, macaroons, ladyfingers, chocolate mousse (the best in Belgium according to her husband), and assorted chocolates. Sharing that experience with her were Iris, Jean and Neil.

Sharon and Betsy joined Isabel and Tom in their home that was converted from an erstwhile nunnery. They had two young children, quickly won over by Sharon and very well photographed by Betsy. Their house is incomplete as yet but coming along nicely. Other members of our group who joined them were Bill, Nancy and Gail. Isabel served homemade breads and a variety of cheeses made in Belgium, chocolate mousse, coffee, local beers and sparkling water. Can’t say whether Rita or Isabel made the best mousse, but we are willing to bet that both were really tasty.

Once we reluctantly returned to the barge, we all found that everyone had enjoyed a fine experience and believed that meeting their Belgian family was a highlight of the entire vacation. We all said “kudos” to GCT for this excellent idea in making travel more meaningful and allowing Americans to interact with ordinary people in the countries they visit.

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DENDERMONDE This was another special smaller city. It had the typical city square with outdoor restaurants, a large fortified castle at one end and government buildings on two sides with a church called the Holy Ghost Church lining the other side. Children played in the square while their parents and grandparents looked on indulgently. Townspeople sat outside the taverns and drank some of the 150 beers that Belgium is famous for. As the light faded, illuminating lights on the buildings began to shine and a beautiful shade of mauve filled the sky above. The city looked enchanted!

The next thing that happened convinced us that it was a truly supernatural place. We walked to the church door only to find it locked.

Kay spotted a side door and pushed on it. Incredibly, it quietly gave way to her hand. We slipped inside a small chapel that was dark except for the red 56

light on the altar and the pale and ever dimming light coming through the stained glass windows. Unearthly music was filling the chamber with the pure and ethereal voice of a boy soprano backed by an angelic choir and a wonderful tenor. We sat transfixed in the quiet place and were almost overcome by that marvelous music.

We began to realize that we were hearing voices outside the chapel and decided that maybe we could explore a little further and see the main church. As we were beginning to rise from our seats almost reluctantly, three elderly ladies came running past us in the now almost darkness. Two of them seemed nearly afraid of us and ran through the outer door to escape. But the short & round third lady stopped by me and asked, “Englische?” and when I demurred, she quickly asked, “American tourist?” and now I had to admit that we were American interlopers. Then she queried, “Catolische?” and I said truthfully that we were. She immediately rushed out of the chapel and through the door we had contemplated using to invade the rest of the church. She called to a young nun who had been conducting some sort of meeting for women of varying ages and reported that some American Catholics were in the chapel and wanted to see the church. The ladies began leaving the meeting and the young nun who told us she was a Vincennes sister began to push numerous buttons right outside the chapel.

Suddenly the building was filled with white light and we saw that this “chapel” though small was indeed their lovely church—there was no larger room. The sister also brought out the jewel cases for the marvelous music we had been hearing and we found that it was a recording of the Taize—a worldwide Protestant youth choir based in France. What a special time that was and how we hope we can locate that CD when we get home. We will always remember Dendermonde because of that enrapturing experience in the Heilig Geiste Church there.

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GHENT The next large city we visited was Ghent in Belgium—once the largest city in Northern Europe and one of the richest because of textiles mainly.

This amazing city dates from the 6th century. Ghent grew some flax in its environs but for the most part, it imported flax from around Europe and converted it into fine linen cloth. Ghent is very much like a northern Venice since its canals are the streets of the oldest and formerly richest parts of the city. The medieval guild houses are there, St. Nicholas Church, St. Bavo’s Church (a new saint to any of us—apparently a local priest who helped the mentally sick people in his part of the world), the old meat market, the old fish market and many quite large, highly ornate, three and four story homes.

The walls of the buildings that go right into the canals as well as the old bridges are festooned with luxuriant growths of plants, ferns, grasses, even occasional flowers growing right out of the lovely old stones. It was a 58

picture postcard city with deep blue skies and wafting puffy clouds overhead. And a perfect day for exploring such a delightful place.

In the enormous St. Bavo’s, we found a young people’s orchestra playing. Little Yitzhak Perlmans were lofting their music high into the soaring dome of the church and an adult organist accompanied them subtly with his mighty instrument. To see the light streaming in through the gorgeous old stained glass windows and hear the glorious music filling every chapel until it reached the high altar and hung there was a physical and emotional experience found only in such surroundings.

There was a wonderful Sunday Flower Market in a square in Ghent that we happily visited and photographed. Not quite as impressive as Amsterdam’s floating markets, but still a real treat for our eyes. The market was well visited and the Belgians were eagerly buying up plants for their gardens.

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We saw the most enormous dog there too—very well-behaved “Tyler.”

His owner told us he was a Lambien and weighed about 262 kilos. We had never heard of this breed but were amazed at his huge head, docile nature and wonderful coat. On arriving home, we looked him up and learned that in our country, this breed is called a Leonbarger and a group of enthusiasts is currently attempting to have the breed recognized by the AKC. 60

We had a local guide, Bernard, in Ghent and he gave us a brief overview of his city and showed us how to get to the various spots of interest. He also suggested that we take a canal boat trip to see the architecture from the waterside and we followed that advice.

The trip repeated some of the route Bernard had walked us along, but the different perspective made the little watery exploration very enjoyable.

Because the barge could not moor long in the city due to very little docking space, we had to hurry through this city in order to see everything but at least we were not also trying to negotiate the streets and alleys on our bicycles. On foot is always the better option we were discovering.

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BRUGES The last of the cities we visited was Bruges (Brugge to the Flemish) in Belgium. It is a gem of medieval heritage and so perfectly preserved that it’s no wonder that the tourists flock here to buy the exquisite lace and the fabled chocolates. Indeed, tucked into the ground floors of ancient homes, warehouses, and public structures are countless lace and chocolate shops.

How they can all make a living is a wonder!

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However, despite the obvious catering to tourists, the little city is magical in its evocation of the past. Sprightly horses with high-stepping gaits pull carriages along the narrow cobblestone streets.

Ancient trees and gardens soften every view of enduring stone structures. Flowers bloom everywhere and swans are almost too numerous on the tiny lakes and green squares all over this very walkable city. As you wander from historic churches to fine small museums to yet another Beguinehof, it is easy to imagine yourself having been transported by some time machine back into the medieval world. Lace and chocolate shops line the cobbled streets. It is a very pleasant city to explore.

Our Lady Church The Our Lady Church displays a very rare treasure—it is a church with soaring towers and steeples and a huge interior filled with side chapels, a glorious organ pipe display, magnificent stained glass windows, a breathtaking high altar, and even a choir singing while we were there.

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However, its most wondrous sight is a Michelangelo Madonna and Child sculpture framed in a green marble sanctuary in a side chapel. That exquisite statue is almost the only Michelangelo marble to be displayed outside Italy. Its presence in Bruges is evidence of the richness of this city since someone had to pay for that sculpture to be there! The statue is about the size of the more famous Pieta in St. Peters and it is every bit as perfect. The beauty and serenity of the Madonna’s face as she meditates on the Child standing beside her are wondrous to see. The technical superiority of Michelangelo in bringing Carrara marble to life should cause any other sculptor to lay down his carving tools and retire quietly.

Bruges Beguinehof The Bruges Beguinehof has converted to a Benedictine nunnery though Sharon did recognize a single Beguine (lay sister) among their ranks at

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vespers. This was another island of peace in a bustling little tourist city.

Their church was never a “hidden” one but it is quite simple and relatively unadorned. Construction began in 1584. There have been several renovations over time. The most recent restoration occurred in 1991. The buildings form a wall around an inner courtyard larger but similar to the one in Amsterdam. When we visited, a lone nun was saying her own office in the church all by herself. Later we went back to the church to attend the vespers service open to the public. That was a charming flashback to the Middle Ages as well—about 20 nuns, 1 lay sister, and 4 priests participated in the service as did the organ, accompanying the responses and the queries. There was one tiny nun quite elderly and very bent over with osteoporosis: she sang her part in a quavery but clear voice. This was another special occurrence in a church for us during this visit to the Low Countries.

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Groeningemuseum We visited the museum with an unpronounceable name. It is so difficult to say like a native that the Flemish used it as a “password” during the war to identify imposters who were trying the pass themselves off as Belgians. It is located in an old castle with a wonderful display area for a small but impressive collection of Flemish masters.

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We took a canal boat ride through this lovely city as well and enjoyed seeing interesting waterside views. On the walk back from the boat ride, we visited St. Anne’s Church (celebrating Mary’s mother) and visited the oldest continuously operating pub in the area—dating from 1515. We could not go inside however because it was closed on the day we walked by.

The big central square in Bruges is dominated by an l29 ft. bell tower.

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The square is completely rung round by chocolate and lace shops as well as restaurants offering outdoor seating. We arrived in the square in the middle of quite a rainfall so we took refuge on the porch of one of those cafes to try the local hot chocolate. It was quite delicious but three cups plus one cup of coffee for Sharon was monstrously expensive—we paid about $5.00 for each of those cups. Perhaps it the rain that caused us to be so overcharged. Certainly, the waiter knew we were trying to escape the shower, so perhaps he took advantage of us. On the other hand, is Belgian hot chocolate just that special?

We never found any Belgian chocolates we thought were as good as the Godiva (also a Belgian chocolate) that we can get at home. This was true for us even though the Belgians we met expressed contempt for Godiva. So perhaps it is prepared to an American palate. However, we did fall into a wonderful little lace shop run by a woman who was celebrating her 75th birthday that day.

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She was such a beautiful little woman with the most delightful FrenchBelgian accent in English. She certainly knew her lace and took the time to teach us about antique lace, hand-made lace, machine-made lace, and laces made by hand and machine in other countries. We bought several items from her including some examples of 100-year-old lace!

San Salvator Church While walking to Our Lady Church, we chanced across the San Salvator Church. It was another one of those churches that was proof of the city’s previous wealth and status—enormous, highly decorated, and richly endowed with tapestries, a different color of stain-glass window—more ochre and golden with a more muted blue than is usually seen.

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Just as we were about the leave this church, the church organist began to practice. Even practice sounds so wonderfully exalted in those confines that we had to listen a while. Later we learned that Sharon had also found herself in that church earlier and agreed with us about its special beauty because of the windows and tapestries.

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Our group’s farewell dinner was held at sunset in the Burg Square in a 14th century tannery guild building now converted into a large restaurant the specializes in group service.

We had made our choices of fish or chicken dishes, but all the side dishes and the desserts were the same.

The food was very tasty and a little different from the meals we had enjoyed on the barge.

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ADDENDUM - CRITTERS For our group of travelers, no trip is really special unless we get a chance to see animals and birds in their native habitats! While we knew that we were going to be in a part of Europe that has been domesticated for centuries, we were still hoping to see at least a few of our feather, furred and hairy friends. And we were not disappointed!

Domesticated animals certainly comprised the majority of critters we saw and they were a healthy and contented looking lot as well. The Low Countries do not raise beef cattle in any important way, so we saw many dairy cows. The grasses are so rich in nutrients and the water so plentiful here that these cows are the “Platonic Ideal” of what healthy and happy bovines are supposed to be. We did learn that they do raise one type of milk cow hybrid that has to be delivered by Caesarian section because the fetuses are too big to be delivered in the normal way. Evidently, that hybrid is so disease resistant and it produces so much more milk than other beasts that raising them in this bizarre and unnatural manner is worth the money and the risks.

We also saw lots of sheep and goats, raised mostly for their milk products as well: many goat and sheep cheeses in these two countries.

Neither the Dutch nor the Belgians are big mutton eaters nor do they try to compete on the wool market that is so depressed worldwide, so the sheep and the goats are rarely eaten and only shorn for their own comfort.

Horses and ponies were quite numerous in the small villages and in the country pastures and since most of the work is done by machines as is testified to by the regular rows in the fields, these animals must be kept mainly as pets and for pleasure riding. Of course, horses are used in the cities for pulling carriages for tourists as well. Chickens and ducks were evident in the farming areas too and we heard many a rooster “calling out the hours” or maybe they were taunting us bike riders, who knows?

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While discussing domestic animals, the Dutch and Belgian love for dogs and cats cannot be dismissed either. We saw so many different breeds of dogs all over the countries in cities and towns, walking with their folks through city streets as well as patrolling the farmyards of their rural folks.

Cats were also in evidence everywhere—city, town and farmlands.

The only wild mammals we saw were rabbits and very large ones they were with ears quite tall like our jackrabbits, but these were not built like our Western rabbits. They were a chocolate brown in color and they sprang quite agilely about the fields. Whether or not the farmers consider them pests, we do not know. Mute swans were also seen in city park areas as well as on some rural canals and lakes but I suppose they don’t qualify as wild creatures.

We saw herons and storks as well as American coots and other duck species with which we were not familiar—but there were also mallards all around. Mallards are the ubiquitous duck in the world so it is no wonder we saw them. The Dutch called their heron that looks like a smaller version of our great blue heron, the “gray heron”. But we never knew whether it was the same bird or not. We saw European Starlings as well as sparrows but that was about the extent of the birdwatching. After all, when you are flying by on a two-wheeled vehicle struggling for balance and freedom from pain, you really cannot focus on all the little flitterings and flutterings you catch out of the corner of your eyes.

However, what we really enjoyed most in this “animal kingdom” were the coots (we call them American coots, the Dutch called them just “coots”) we saw in the city canals and the rural canals. We liked the country cousins because they were raising babies while we were there and it was so much fun to see the surprisingly red-headed babies huddling together on lily pads waiting for Mom or Dad to come paddling back.

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They were just the tiniest little handful of so much dark fluff except for that reddish down on their heads.

The city coots were appealing and amusing because of their unexpected nests in the canals. Evidently, the country cousins’ eggs hatch first because the city slickers were still sitting their eggs. The improbable nests the happy couples constructed were made of bits of trash, flotsam and jetsam, leaves and other greenery that the birds retrieved from the canals. They piled this stuff surprisingly high in conical nests that they placed on floating pilings, on boards attached to some of the permanent houseboats, in little niches and holes in the bulkheads and bridge walls down near the water level, on just about anything that stayed in one place on the canal. They sat proudly on their “thrones” of trash and occasionally the mate not sitting would come up to the trash heap and add some treasure to buttress the nest—a clear plastic 6 pack ring, a blue bottle cap, some red cloth bits, yellow nylon rope strings, green Styrofoam pieces.

Their nests were monuments to human wastefulness and sloppiness; yet they created comfortable and colorful homes for their next generation out of our bad habits.

We saw more varieties of birds when we did our aforementioned canoe trip. There we observed reed warblers, lapwings, a marsh harrier, terns, gray vultures, oystercatchers, mallards, and several varieties of hybrid ducks. However, we must not forget the beautiful male pheasant and his mate that Betsy and I were lucky enough to see on the first bike ride we took. Though we were fighting those headwinds, our chance to see that striking bird with his “coat of many colors” made us forget the struggle for a while.

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CONCLUSIONS The four of us so readily signing on for this Biking/Barging trip was unusual. None of us are really bike riders at all. However, we like active vacations and we thought the concept sounded really enjoyable. We were especially happy with the idea that we would be staying aboard a floating hotel for the seven days of biking and believed that would be very convenient and relaxing. We thought the biking would be fairly easy and leisurely since The Low Countries are flat and bike-friendly. We believed that there would be ample opportunities for photography and exploring small towns and villages. Every picture we had ever seen of The Netherlands and Belgium had revealed how gently scenic they are and we knew we would enjoy seeing them up close and more slowly than flying by in a car. In short, we were sure we would enjoy “bike-seeing.”

One of the things that is challenging about travel is that preconceptions are often overturned and things many times do not go according to plan.

However, to be a happy traveler it is necessary to keep a good sense of humor and perspective and find the positive in everything possible. The four of us also know each other very well and have traveled together often and we know how we each react to stress in travel situations, so we were prepared for whatever this trip brought us.

This is what happened.

We learned quickly that biking in The Low Countries is not easy even though the land is flat—that’s because of the constant very strong headwinds. However, we all kept going and enjoyed ourselves because we could, even when the going was not fun.

We realized to our dismay that our “in the gym training” did not prepare our nether regions for the amount of abuse they would take. So we had to ignore the discomfort and find the enjoyment despite it.

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We found that the two countries we visited are indeed beautiful and well worth our time and our pain.

We loved “barging” around the canals and lakes of the cities and towns, particularly relishing the convenience factor we had anticipated.

We did not have sufficient time to ride leisurely, stopping whenever we pleased to take pictures, breathe in the fresh air, and enjoy the scenery in front of us. We had to keep moving in order to meet the barge at its appointed stops and mooring places.

The activity we had bargained for certainly was forthcoming since we rode 6 and 8 hours per day. And best of all, we ate all that delicious food and did not gain any weight at all; in fact we lost a little. That was very rewarding and cancelled out most of the negatives in our minds.

Most surprising to all of us is the fact that when I started writing this journal a few days after we returned from the trip, we were all agreed that we would never take another biking vacation again even though we all agreed that we had greatly enjoyed the whole experience.

Now, this soon after the trip, we find ourselves discussing taking another biking vacation in Burgundy in the near future. And we find ourselves waiting eagerly to read Sharon’s niece, Lisa’s, journal of her recent biking trip through the wine country of France. What a turnaround and how quickly it came. We must have had more fun biking than we thought!

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