Windmills at Kinderdijk

Jack arrived at our B&B the same time Saturday morning and we headed south to Ablasserdam, the town where my Oma and father lived before immigrating to America. Jack went into a furniture store to ask a gentleman he had met on his last visit where the county courthouse was so we could look up records of our ancestors.  Unfortunately, it was Saturday and the courthouse was closed.  In lieu of finding where our family might have lived, we walked the narrow brick paved sidewalks searching for salty black licorice.  While looking for the licorice we came across a bakery and purchased some freshly baked speculaas cookies. The Sweetie Shop, a little candy shop a few blocks away had an assortment of at least twenty different licorices.  The young lady didn’t speak English and didn’t understand that we wanted salty licorice. In sign language, by putting our fingers to our lips we asked if for a taste of the different licorices including a black diamond shaped licorice imprinted with the letters ZOUT, meaning salt in Dutch. It was just the licorice I was looking for, so I purchased a pound, hoping it would last me for a while after I returned home.

Kinderdijk (pronounced kinderdyke) was next on the itinerary.  The famous Dutch windmills were only a few miles away from Albasserdam. We arrived in time for a movie about why the windmills were built and the origin of the name Kinderdijk, which there are about four different stories. The one I liked revolved around the St. Elizabeth flood in 1400. A child was floating on one of the canals during the flood and a cat rocked the cradle back and forth to keep in from sinking. In a small museum, Cliff discovered four authentic wood spades with metal edges hanging on the wall.  He’s been researching how to make the same shovels for a customer who wants them for reenactments, but had never seen one first hand.

As we enjoyed a picnic lunch of liverwurst and hot mustard sandwiches on whole grain bread and apples, Jack and I talked about how different our lives might have been if our father hadn’t passed away when we were young.  I wondered if my Dutch Oma might have brought my father to Kinderdijk as a child to see the windmills, since it is so close to where they lived.  I thought about how pleased our ancestors were been that we made the journey back to our motherland.  I felt honored to have a rich cultural heritage.  My heart was full of gratitude for all the people that preserved this part of history for us to experience, share and enjoy.

The windmills were built in the 1700’s to pump water into the canals to keep the land from collapsing and going undersea. One of the windmills where the miller and his family actually lived was open to the public. We climbed narrow wood steps to view areas for the children. As we strolled the pathway with people on bikes, families with children and the three story windmill equipped with a kitchen, sitting room, bedroom and play tourists groups, Cliff and Jack counted nineteen windmills along the canals. People from all over the world visit Kinderdijk to see how the Dutch ingeniously manage water.

Arriving in Holland

  We landed safely in Holland around 1:00 pm on Thursday April 3, 2014. Our flights went smoothly with only a half hour delay added to our four hour layover at the Dublin airport due to heavy fog. We passed the time by having an Irish breakfast, coffee, Irish crème whisky samples, tasting chocolates and chatting with a couple from Ireland on their way to Italy and Spain. We turned our watches ahead five hours, exchanged our dollars in for euros and went through customs where our suntan lotion was confiscated.

   At the immense Schiphol airport we were welcomed with displays of tulips and delftware that lines the shelves of airport shops.  After claiming our luggage, we found our way to the Avis car rental kiosk to pick up a car I had reserved earlier.  A young man in his thirties who spoke English with a strong Dutch accent handed me the keys to a small plum colored mini car. Cliff piled the luggage in the small trunk.  After getting in the car, the first thing I looked for was the GPS, but it was nowhere to be found. I went back to the desk to ask where the GPS was in the car. They forgot to give it me. I had to make a second trip back to the Avis office to have the gadget changed from European to English. I programmed the address of the Bed and Breakfast in DeZilk, Holland and was ready to go until I turned on the car reached down to put the car in drive and discovered that it was a standard.  I hadn’t driven a standard car in over ten years, but after a few stalls and jumps, engaging the clutch and shifting the gears came back to me. Just like riding a bike, you never forget.

Due to studying the road map before leaving for our trip I had an idea in what direction we were traveling, but it was nerve wracking  driving on a four lane highway with foreign traffic signs, a standard car and the driving speed in kilometers an hour.  My brain had a hard time adjusting to a 100 kph instead of 60 mph.  I relied on the flow of traffic to gauge my speed and muddled through the road signs. The biggest challenge came when the women’s voice on the GPS said “at the next round about turn left and take the second exit.”  In a matter of minutes I came to an island of grass with two lanes of traffic encircling it. The exits were unmarked narrow roads, like spokes on a wheel, so I had to count “one, two, three” as I navigated around the round-about. There is a ‘round-about’ wherever a road intersects.

The GPS navigated us to the Tulpenzicht Bed and Breakfast, where we met our host who speaks German and a little English.  We were delighted to see that the B&B with contemporary furniture, laminate flooring, colorful Dutch wall hangings and a modern kitchen with an induction stove and oven depicted the pictures on the website.  My brother Jack, who is familiar with Holland forewarned me about the high price of meals in the country and he was right.  One simple meal of cod, french fries and small salad at a conservative restaurant cost 46 Eruos. I sure was glad to have the kitchen included in the B&B.

After unloading our luggage at the B&B we headed to the nearby town of Lisse to stock up on a few groceries.  We found a market, strictly by accident, with a nice selection of food. I headed to the produce aisle leaving Cliff alone to get the cart. When I turned to ask him what kind of cheese we should buy he was struggling to free a cart from the rack.  He was confused as to why he had to insert a fifty cent euro to free a shopping cart until he realized it was a deposit that eliminated having to hire people to return the carts to the store. We stocked up on cheese, lunch meat, herring, and black licorice. When we checked out Cliff asked what he could put the groceries in. The cashier told him something in Dutch, but he couldn’t understand her.  I looked down and seen heavy plastic bags for twenty euro cents. After thirty hours without sleep and a crash course in European driving and shopping, we were both ready for a good night’s sleep.

On Friday after a hearty breakfast of whole grain bread, croissants, fruit, yogurt, granola, fresh squeezed orange juice, soft boiled eggs, lunch meat and cheese, Cliff made sandwiches from the leftovers for our lunch. Jack arrived at 10:00 am and had coffee while we chatted for a few minutes. We tasted the black licorice and were disappointed that it wasn’t salty.  Jack read the label and told me it was German licorice.  After a cup of coffee we hit the road. Jack sat in the front seat of the rental car and gave me European driver lessons while en route to a Clara Maria’s cheese and wooden shoe making factory.  Cliff enjoyed seeing how wood shoes are made and found a hand tool and spoon gouges that that he doesn’t have.  We sampled wild onion, mustard, whiskey, cumin and nut cheese, stocked up on souvenirs and then had lunch at a picnic table next to the house. 

Next we traveled north through the town of Gouda (that the Dutch pronounce howda) and then to the only Delft potter factory in Holland. We arrived at 4:30 pm just as the shop was closing. The owners were gracious enough to give us a quick tour of the small factory housed in a three story brick building.  It was fascinating to learn about the tedious process of making expensive Delft pottery. The Dutch women who explained the process to us, has a daughter who is in college and will be attending Penn State University for a semester. We invited her daughter to visit us when she is in Pennsylvania.

 When we returned to the B&B in the evening I made tortellini, sautéed Italian vegetables and German beef sausage. It was a challenge getting the induction oven to work until we realized that the heating elements wouldn’t turn on with certain pans. I was grateful that my friend Mary Lisa gave me an adaptor for my computer and hair dryer. After checking my email we went for a leisurely walk in the area and enjoyed the sunset, beautifully landscaped homes and fields of fragrant purple hyacinths, yellow daffodils and pink tulips.