Homebodies - I did it! – part two
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- Published on Sunday, May 15, 2016
By Rita Friesen
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One of the highlights of the second day of cycling was spending time in a working windmill. A massive giant, humming with life on a windy, windy day. It is one in a series of four that are controlling the water level in the polder. We were able to climb through the miller’s living space to the top. As I pause, I can sense the vibrations, the scent of the farm below, the power of the wind. I wondered again at the architect and architecture of hundreds of years ago. Massive beams, cast iron screw lifting the water, the device to control the speed and direction of the arms. I was impressed – the coffee and almond cookies helped cement the memory!
The meals of the Elodie were magnificent. Some folks took pictures of the meal and there was a reverent silence as we were served. Second day supper was ‘a caesar salad like no other, salmon on a bed of snap peas and asparagus, a side of mashed potatoes, creamed and browned and looked like macaroons and apple pie with walnut ice cream and marinated cherries’. I am not a foodie, but I found more than one reference to the supper in my diary! After the meal, we wandered in Gouda and both Marie and I were struck by the bronze markers embedded in the cobblestone sidewalks. Clusters of markers with the names of the people of the Jewish faith that had lived there and the name of the camp in which they were killed. Sobering.
The third morning, I woke early and taking a coffee up on deck, I marvelled that I was sitting on a barge, on a canal in Gouda, a windmill off to the left, surrounded by colours. I then realised how heart hungry I was for colour, the random daffodils blooming on the canal banks, the fallen hibiscus blossoms we carelessly trampled. An hour out of Gouda, we stopped for more coffee and cookies at a shop run by, for and with a group of developmentally challenged adults. We toured their day work program and appreciated their service to and for us. From there on to Kinderdijk, a UNESCO protected windmill park. There are nineteen windmills from the 18th century, non working, but protected, a visual reminder that a vast portion of the Netherlands is seven meters below sea level. Two short ferry rides brought us to a longer one to Rotterdam where the Elodie was waiting to gently transport us to Delft. I admire the Dutch Master’s use of light in the art and our evening walk through the city centre was awash with that ethereal light I so admire. I felt a part of history and beauty and was steeped with peace. Feeling some effects of The Fall, I debated sitting out the next day, a longish ride through La Hague and sand dunes.
