Monique and Hugo live in a small house within a mile of the
North Sea. After a quick breakfast we went grocery shopping then headed to the
beach for a leisurely stroll. The breeze was warm and humid. I took my shoes
off and we ambled, mainly catching up with Hugo and getting to know Monique. I
admired her tall frame and poise. Mostly it was her ease and friendliness that
I found alluring and was delighted that Hugo had found such a wonderful
partner. I tried not to be too shocked at the topless sunbathers, but for our
Dutch friends it’s normal, so I overlooked the “scenery” (as best I could) and
tried to fit in.
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| Berries with quark. Photo credit: FitBodies Food |
For dinner our friends cooked a fabulous fish entree with salad,
potatoes, zucchini, and dessert. I relished the change of cuisine – anything
other than one pot pasta meals – and ate too much. I bypassed the dessert glass filled with berries on quark, a soft cheese that resembled yogurt. I’d try it in the
morning.
Sunday, August 14
All four of us went by car to Amsterdam for the afternoon.
Part of the city was built on reclaimed land, meaning it’s below sea level. A
canal is constructed, sectioned off, water is pumped out, and that land is
filled with housing and businesses. It seems like odd urban sprawl. But these
European countries have a culture that is so old that I cannot help but shake
my head in wonder. There is so much to learn.
We walked and walked - a mode that felt particularly good
after too many long days in the saddle. Of course there were bikes everywhere, outnumbering
automobiles, and it was something I didn’t marvel at anymore. To be Dutch is to
cycle. Hugo and Monique did daily errands with their own bikes. But for now we
pleasantly strolled along the canals, with a midafternoon cappuccino and apple
torte break at an outdoor café.
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| Hugo, Andy, Monique and I enjoy a cappuccino with apple torte. |
As if to confirm the dense urban population, houses are only two
rooms wide but many stories high, all connected like brownstones in New York City. Monique pointed out one
turret-topped place, a single room’s width. She remembered it from a canal
tour. It’s the narrowest home in Amsterdam. Most homes sport functioning hooks
and ropes jutting from roof tops. Staircases are too narrow, so this is how
occupants hoist furniture up and through large windows.
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| The narrowest home in Amsterdam is the one with the red door. |
Canal boat homes moored in spots. Potted plants and benches
adorned decks. It reminded me of houseboat living along the Columbia River in
Oregon. But here a few supported makeshift shelters; on one an old man lived,
his floating home completely covered with stuff as if he was having a garage
sale.
We headed towards the city’s red light district, a maze of
narrow cobblestone alleys. Amsterdam is well known for its prostitutes and
drugs. Neon signs advertise sexual favors in four languages. Nederland is also the only European
country that legally sells marijuana. It is listed on menus in “coffee houses”.
Andy and I gawked and giggled at a window display. There were condoms with
flavors, some in the shape of roosters and dolphins, and even a style for
soccer fans. And prostitutes provocatively sit in floor to ceiling glass
windows in various stages of undress. Vacant windows displayed drawn red
curtains. On a Sunday, tourists flock to Amsterdam so we weren’t the only ones
taking in the show.
In the evening we took our friends to an Italian dinner in their hometown, Den Haag. Afterward, we all enjoyed the
simple life, sipping coffee and chatting in the living room. Hugo and Monique are not married, but it’s obvious how smitten and comfortable they are with each other.
Interesting post, I loved the cycling culture when I was there about 15 years ago but I have heard it has become even more dominant since then. The houses are so quaint, they also lean forward to the furniture doesn't hit the building when it is being hoisted up through the windows.
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