What They Do Best

May 11, 2002-Water
(photos:Keukenhof,
Den Haag)

Those granola bars finally were useful. At least one of them was. Breakfast at the hotel was a mediocre buffet and I knew I couldn’t eat $17.50 worth of it. I opted for tea and then ate an apple and a granola bar in the room. We got out and really walked today. It felt so good after we’d been sitting on most of our other tours. We bought a tour to the Kuekenhof. It literally means “kitchen garden.” It’s now a park 45 minutes from the city and in the center of the tulip growing industry. It’s open two months a year and is the showcase where tulip growers display their latest and best offerings. It’s an outdoor house and garden show without the houses.

Our guide on the bus spoke at least six languages easily. That’s the norm in a country where most all the people speak at least Dutch, English, and German with many having a working relationship with French. We’ve even heard kitchen help speaking English to each other instead of Dutch. The bus had more legroom than the airplane and even had adjustable footrests. It’s no wonder I fell asleep on the ride back and got so comfy that David said I snored (gently). I only had a moment of pause as we made what I thought was a very wide left turn, but David said he was getting used to traffic merging onto the expressway from the right. He thought we’d become “ambi-driverous.”

As we passed Schipol Airport, the guide started to explain that it was built on a lakebed that had been drained and is twelve feet below sea level. There’s a lot of that going on. Canals are dug around a lake or other wet area, a dyke is built, and water is drained into the canals. The lake bottom is filled with a sand mixture to add stability and buildings are constructed. About 45% of The Netherlands is below sea level. I’d imagine the Dutch were the first master basement water proofers. Tulips Tulips came to Holland from Persia (Iran) with the Crusaders. At one time bulbs were so valuable they were used for investment and speculation much as gold is today. People would actually mortgage their homes and put the money in tulip bulbs.

I was happy to see the streets looked better cared for when we left the central city, but this is one flat and bleak country. At first I thought there were boats in the fields but then I realized that the boats were sitting in the many canals that cut through the farmland. In more urbanized suburbs there were what looked like areas set aside for kitchen gardens with their own potting sheds dotting the landscape. We passed several fields of dead daffodils and many barren areas. There are 6.5 million bulbs planted each year in the sandy soil, but the fields were mostly shorn of their flowers since the value for exporting is only in the bulbs. Flowers are cut a few days after they bloom so they don’t take nutrition away from the all-important bulbs. Each day a disease searcher walks the fields and pulls any plant showing signs of ill health. We had two hours to walk around Keukenhof in the overcast chill and I knew I’d have been out of there in forty-five minutes if we were on our own. But it was spectacular. The first thing that hit me was the smell. The flowers emitted a delightful scent that mixed with the aroma of freshly cut grass. We trooped from one display to another taking pictures of each grouping and color variation until we realized we couldn’t capture it all. In fact, after awhile, the impact began to wear off and we just followed the path and silently acknowledged the endless beauty spread before us. We did learn a new trick of scenic photography. Place a schill in front of what you want a photo of and have them move the instant before you snap it. David figured this out at one particular spot where people kept standing in front of what I wanted a photo of. Everyone waited until the posers picture had been taken and then took their turn. David walked to the spot I wanted to shoot, waited for me to give him the go ahead, and stepped away as I clicked. It worked like a charm. If he hadn’t thought of that ruse I’d still be waiting there.

Several lakes and ponds broke up the lawns, trees, and planted gardens. In one lake, we watched as a black swan invaded a group of white swans. It herded the others into a circle, singled one out, and chased it around before retreating to its former location. We couldn’t figure out what that was all about, but when the black swan left, the white one was vigorously wiggling its tail. There were two hot houses where orchids and other plants were for sale and many places to stop for snacks. We inhaled the warmth of a cup of hot cocoa right before we left.

Den Haag

Our afternoon was taken up with making our way to The Hague. We caught a train at Central Station and were in that capital city in forty-five minutes. We’d once again found “schmutz.” Judging from the dingy color and dirt on the official buildings, I think that a sandblasting company could make a fortune there. We managed to find the Parliament complex and the city palace among the crowds of shoppers. Den Haag, as they call it, is a very old city with tiny winding streets and elaborately decorative architecture. One side of the parliament is on a canal, but the palace is squeezed into a residential and business neighborhood almost as an afterthought. I guess it was always like that since it’s the city palace. There’s a private and more secluded palace in the country.

The Netherlands is known for its diversity of cultures and races and is sometimes called the gay capital of the world. It’s no wonder that it also attracts right wing groups that take issue with such an open society. In one of the squares there was a memorial to Pim Fortuyi (sp), the murdered and now martyred right wing politician. A few yards away there was what I call a Jesus rally. There was singing and evangelizing in English and Dutch. People were witnessing and really exhibiting quite a bit of religious fervor. One of the mantras that kept being repeated, chanted, and droned was, “There is no other God but you Jesus.” I was a bit confused, but not confused enough to stay awake on the train ride back to Amsterdam. David said I didn’t snore. I only twitched.

Sometimes it’s hard to believe it’s been over nine months, but at other times it seems like forever since we left Wendy in Minneapolis on August 8, 2001. I’ve limited myself to miniature bursts of excitement when I think of tomorrow. It will be a very long tomorrow, May 12. We leave here at 2:30 PM and get into Akron at 8 PM. Taking into consideration the time difference, it will be 2 AM, May 13th on our body clocks.

Happy Mother’s Day to whom it applies. It’s bittersweet for me to say this, but I’ll write the final email installment from home. Thank you all who have kept up with your reading and for those who have been such loyal correspondents. It has made this undertaking a pleasure.

Toby