Hotels, Food, and Cultural Stuff

It's been a long time since I've been to Europe and most of my experience has been with the UK.  Here are a few things that absolutely fascinated me about the Netherlands.

People

I've mentioned before how friendly the people in Meppel were, and how they tried to help in my ancestor search.  Another volunteer at Oud Meppel searched and searched ... and searched until she found a photograph of Lisa's relative's storefront in Meppel.  Eventually, they found the digital copy too.  A small army of volunteers is scanning all the archives so that they are available online.

Then, while standing outside Lisa's ancestors' church in Venlo awaiting its opening, we had another such encounter.  Two ladies came up to us and learned why we were there looking lost (probably).  One went away, but the other stuck to us like glue, trying to find someone at the church or the administrative offices next door to help Lisa in her discovering.  She was about our age and lived nearby.  She must have spent 1-2 hours with us.  A delightful Dutch lady, grown children + grandchildren, very good English.  We ended up giving her all our contact info and info about our ancestral searches.  Before we left, Hannie (short for Johanna) sent us an e-mail offering to look more.

In addition to her kindness to us, we learned about Hannie's mother's good experiences with the U.S. liberators in WW2.  Soon there will be few left who remember firsthand, but this lady's mother passed her good memories down to her daughter, and I'm sure Hannie has passed the same stories down to hers.  It is good to know that current U.S. behavior is not entirely erasing the good done by generations past.

Coincidentally, we had 9 WW2 veterans on our flight to Amsterdam.  There was a big fuss about them and their trip while we were waiting to board at Dulles.

Hotels

Our hotel, The Little Duke, in den Bosch was completely self-serve.  The hotel in Meppel was self check-in (one day before arrival they text and e-mail a time-sensitive entry code for the hotel and your room), but there is a human there to set out/maintain breakfast and provide check-out.

At the Duke, they e-mail the entry code to the hotel, and then the guest uses the computer in the entryway to check-in and create a keycard for the hotel and the room.  There is a telephone at the check-in/out desk, should the guest encounter an error.

I assume this is how they keep prices low, and we stayed in some comfortable hotels that were not particularly expensive.  Hotels in Haarlem and Venlo were fully staffed.  For Europe, these were generally 2-star establishments.  They would rival and exceed the value of most 3-star U.S. hotels.

Every hotel (except the Duke) provided breakfast along with our room.  (Yes, I know this is not unusual.)  But the food was inevitably good and selections broad.  Breakfast at the Duke was available literally next door, but at extra cost.  And, of course, breakfast-included meant all-you-can-eat and all-you-can-drink for coffee/espresso/capuccino/hot chocolate/etc. The auto-machines in Meppel and Venlo were amazing and turned out high quality brews in a flash.

Dutch Food

I did not expect the food in the Netherlands to be so so so GOOD.

Even lettuce had a taste unlike that in the U.S.  I attributed this all to FRESH, local, and probably fewer additives.

I believe someone told us that the Netherlands grows most of its own food.

We saw agriculture galore in the north and west.  Fields and fields and fields of corn, oodles and oodles of corn (for all those cows?).  Fields and fields of asparagus.  Fields of cabbages not yet harvested.  Greenhouses galore.  Flowers (a whole field of cannas blooming in September).  A plethora of agricultural products that we couldn't even identify from the car.

We didn't eat in particularly fancy places, but we had truly amazing food ...

• Roast chicken that tasted like ... chicken, totally succulent with not a dry or chewy bite anywhere.
• Tomatoes so sweet you had to wonder how they came to be.
• Carrots I could/would/did eat.  (Normally, I avoid raw carrots, which I perceive to be cardboard-y and metallic tasting.)
• A "simple" lunch of avocado toast -- brown bread base, avocado spread piled with matchsticks of roasted veggies, all sprinkled with lettuces, drizzled with mayo, and crowned with a perfectly cooked, perfectly cylindrical (how?) poached egg.
• The best club sandwich in the world (Meppel!).
• Completely un-fishy fish, smoked and fresh.
• Calvesliver baked with onions and bacon, a full half-inch thick slab, meltingly tender.  To die for!

I would go back just for the food.

We also had one dinner from the local supermarket in Meppel:  very high quality and shockingly inexpensive.  And spitting distance from our hotel.  Just start by imagining a full baguette, pre-sliced for a picnic, € 0.98.  Add a selection of cheeses, fruit, dessert, and drinks.  Grand total € 17 dinner for three people, with leftovers enough for my dinner the next night.  Oh, and that total included a knife.  We had to buy a knife to slice and spread the cheeses!

Dessert

The Dutch are known for their desserts.  I failed to satisfy my yen for a stroopwaffel.  (Another reason to return!)  I suspect that the pre-packaged ones served by United Airlines -- pretzels or stroopwaffel? has become United's refrain -- are subpar, albeit locally sourced.

I admit to trying the Bosch boll (a cultural icon of den Bosch, or so I'm told).  The first came from the bakery near Lisa's cathedral, the only bakery that didn't have a queue, which was my requirement.  Because there was no line, my Bosch boll also came with instructions:  eat from the bottom or it makes a horrible mess.

So, what is it?  A cream-filled, chocolate-covered pastry concoction, flaky at its absolute best.  Size a tad larger than a baseball.  Oh, my.  How I wish I knew the name of the bakery!

Bosch Boll Extraordinaire

My first experience was so good, I decided to try another on our last night in den Bosch.  After all, the Jan de Groot bakery, known for its Bosch bollen, called to me -- it was directly across the street from our hotel.  Well, if the first was a 10, JdG was no more than a 7.  Different cream, different chocolate, pastry much less flaky.  Sigh.  I'll always remember my first time.

Then there was the pie/tart/whatever from the supermarket.  None of us was completely sure what it was, 4 little pastries in pie shells to the package.  Well, it turned out to be the Dutch version of a butter tart (a Canadian thing) with a nutty paste-like filling.  Great way to end a picnic, and very neat to eat without a napkin in sight.

The only other dessert I had was, of all things, a waffle (waffel).  A dessert waffle.  It looked kind of odd, almost burnt, with a goodly dusting of confectioners sugar, dollop of whipped cream, and warm cherry compote pouring over one side.  "Burnt" turned out to be caramelized; the cherries, which are often too tart for me, were sweet and wonderful.  In all, a tremendous success, not too sweet, not too much, but a luxurious dessert.

Infrastructure

I've mentioned the glories of Dutch public transit.  Dependable, quiet, efficient.  More on that later.

Roads were smooth and we didn't run into road construction that I can recall.  (Oh, yeah, the little bit of construction in Meppel demanded a round about entry to our hotel, but that hardly counts.)  I don't know when they fix the roads but, in fact, we didn't see roads that needed fixing.

I wonder if there is a Dutch word for pothole?  Perhaps they don't need it.

EU

Driving from the Netherlands into Germany is as simple as driving from West Virginia into Pennsylvania.  No border.  Only a modest sign (circular, blue with a border of stars -- the symbol of the EU, and the country name in the center).  Easy peasy.

Our time in the Netherlands also gave me some insight -- my own personal theory -- on Brexit.  I believe Brexit is happening because the UK never really bought into the EU.  Oh, sure, they thought the "common market" was fine.  But they chafed against the EU government and the "leave" faction failed to recognize (or ignored) the benefits of EU membership.  They never adopted the common currency, the Euro.  Preserving the pound is probably the greatest evidence of kinda in, not so much.  And because the Channel separates the UK from the continent, the freedom of movement that exists on the continent is different for the UK.  Bottom line:  they never fully bought in!  So, now they want to leave.

I believe they will be sorry.  The divorce, once done, will be a disaster for the UK, and the UK itself is apt to fragment -- re-establishing the border between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland could well be a disaster, Scotland will break away, Wales may also.  Sad.

Climate

The agricultural areas sported many massive barns with roofs covered with solar panels.

And that brings me to the completely different attitude toward climate change that I observed.

Virtually everywhere I saw warnings about the need to conserve paper, as in paper towels, etc., because paper kills trees.  Many places did not provide paper napkins for snacks/coffee.  They were available, but only if requested.  Some drinks came with straws, most did not.  When I ordered sparkling water in restaurants, it came with a glass (usually no ice) and in a glass bottle.

Hotel staff were more responsible (than I have experienced in the U.S.) about leaving towels that had been used and hung up for another use.  Beds were made but not changed every day.  Two of our three hotels had refillable bath gel and shampoo products.  The hotel rooms weren't littered with little printed notes about what to do/not do.  I don't think any of the hotels were air conditioned, but all had windows that opened.

I have already commented on the adorable little cars.  But bicycles and motor scooters are ubiquitous.  Most of the town centers we saw were walking/biking ways, no car traffic allowed.  As a result, traffic was less a problem than I would have expected.  There was a well-used plug-in for electric cars (5-hour limit) at the curb in front of our Venlo hotel.

Bike lanes sometimes were separated from the roadway completely.  Where I could observe them, bike lanes were consistently paved in red.  Only rarely did I see bicycles having to share the road with cars.

Traffic is calmed with narrow streets in towns and with innumerable roundabouts everywhere.  I learned that I do not understand European traffic sign symbols.  Fortunately, I was not driving anywhere.

Wind turbines dot the landscape EVERYWHERE.  I adore windmills and never tired of watching them.  I saw few, if any, houses with solar panels.  I concluded the windmills do the job that we are trying to do one house at a time.  Alternatively, the Dutch have realized that transportation is the disproportionate energy consumer and have concentrated their efforts there.

City buses are 100% electric, with concomitant noise and pollutant reductions.  Intercity trains are zero emission, powered by wind-generated electricity.  And, yes, the trains go when the wind doesn't blow.  The trains are also shockingly quiet, compared with what we call trains.

In fact, public transit is a marvel to American eyes.  We missed our train in Amsterdam going to Zwolle, so we had to wait, oh, 15-20 minutes for the next one.  The only reason we "needed" a car was to go off the beaten path.  Lisa wanted to go visit her ancestral spots in nearby Germany, and we visited the Hunebedden and a national park.  Our city pairs were all connected by train, and the trains all ran frequently.  The direct train from den Bosch to the Amsterdam airport took one hour and dropped us off under the airport (literally).

I believe the lesson is:  people will use public transit if it is available and convenient.  Make it unavailable or inconvenient and ... not so much.  Listen up, America.

Venlo and den Bosch, Lisa's Ancestral Lands

Lisa's ancestors came to America a bit later than mine, and she has much more solid information about their origins.  This led us to western, western Germany and then Venlo and den Bosch in the Netherlands.

A comment on Germany.  I love German food, but the worst German food I have ever had I had in Germany.  Enough said about that.

Venlo was a shock coming after Meppel.  It is much larger, and it is a greater mixture of old and new.  Even the old town is less quaint than Meppel.  That's not a complaint, but it is a fact.

Our hotel was directly across the street from the railway station.  Oh, the glories of public transport in this country!  If only ... Well, you know.  If only.

If I leaned past the "Danger!" sign on my window, I could see the lovely fountain at the crest of the roundabout.  At sunset, it could be spectacular.



I soon learned that many/most of the roundabouts -- and the roadways were dotted with roundabouts -- sported art at their mounded cores.  I theorized that the art is to warn drivers that the roundabout is coming, plus it is just ART for art's sake.  I even saw one where the art turned out to be alive:  On one side numerous vertical "structures" appeared flat and whitewashed, but on the reverse side you could see that they were actually living trees split in half vertically with fine limbs sprouting out the tops on the still-rounded sides.  These split trees were growing and they were art.

Walking from the hotel into the old town, we saw this adorable fountain -- a series of water spouts, each going about 12-15 inches high -- in the middle of the street.  In most towns this might be a kiddie fountain.  But in Venlo, we observed a person taking his dog to play in it.  The dog was clearly having a blast, as the water spouts shot up into his belly and mouth.

Doggie play fountain

Netherlanders seem to love their dogs, all kinds of dogs.  I met a friendly (and beautiful) Italian Hunting Hound, and I saw dachshunds of every size, color, and hair length, among others. In fact, Dutch doggies were too numerous to count.   Despite this, the absence of green areas for the dogs to go plus the absence of dog poop in non-green people areas, was flat-out remarkable.  The other thing of note is that I don't believe I ever heard a dog barking anywhere.  In short, Dutch doggies are well behaved.  I am sure my constant commenting on the dogs was an annoyance to Lisa and Robert.  But I missed Berkeley, and I was surrounded by dogs to enjoy vicariously!  Some restaurants permitted dogs (at least in their outdoor seating areas).  Churches were less dog friendly.

's-Hertogenbosch or den Bosch, another of Lisa's family's origins, was even larger than Venlo.  While Lisa went off to find her roots, I spent some time alone there getting lost and found again.  It was delightful; my favorite kind of traveling.

Among the many things I found was a massive "Wednesday market," in the square in front of the Stadhuis (city hall).  Stalls and stalls of foods (cooked for take-away and a staggering array of fruits/vegetables), flowers and plants (many still blooming in September), leathergoods, buttons/zippers and a zillion other sewing notions, TWO (or was it three?) stalls selling fabric by the meter, another staff selling undergarments, and on and on.  I didn't know that the market was just for that day, so I missed my opportunity to get a real, honest-to-Dutch stroopwaffel.  At that point, my only cash was a €50 note that I didn't figure any vendor was going to want to break.  My reluctance was just as well:  I could have spent a lot of Euros at that market.

Meppel, Ancestral Lands

Days 3 and 4 in Meppel. Train from Haarlem to Amsterdam, change to another train to Zwolle, where we would pick up a car. I’ve mentioned before how wondrous the train system is. The only hiccup came when our direct train to Zwolle insisted that it had come to its terminus before Zwolle. Turns out we had to shift cars, not trains, to complete our journey. Had any of us spoken enough Dutch to follow instructions, none of this would have been an issue. I won’t mention the 30-minute walk from Zwolle station to the car rental site. Yes, I will. It was follow the leader, where the leader was equipped with nothing but a downloaded GPS navigator. And faith. I won’t give the Netherlands an A+ for signage anywhere we’ve been. But we made it to the car. It helps when the e-navigator counts down the minutes to destination. The trip north to Meppel gave me more chance to peruse the landscape. Somewhere between Amsterdam and Meppel we saw another IKEA. And this land of canals everywhere is shockingly flat, like the proverbial pancake, or pannenkoek, as the Dutch would say. As far as the eye can see. And green. Very green. The color. There are also a bazillion windmills, the modern kind, between Zwolle and Meppel. Lisa said it reminded her of Indiana. I told her not to insult the Netherlands that way. And more livestock and other farming. Cows, sheep, and lots and lots of horses and ponies of every size. To me, it seemed odd that such a small country with such limited acreage would devote so much of it to horses. When I asked someone in Meppel about the horses, I was told that equestrian sports (jumping) are popular. I would guess this speaks to affluence. In fact, everything I have seen so far suggests affluence and abundance. Or maybe those are the wrong words. I don’t mean that everyone and everything appears rich. Comfortable may be a better term. I haven’t seen any evidence (where I’ve been, admittedly) of grinding poverty. The cows appear quite contented. Or lazy. Frequently lying about in the green grass. And there are all kinds of them: white cows, brown cows, brown and white cows, white and brown cows, and a few “Oreo” cows (chocolate on either end, white in the middle). I last saw Oreo cows in the UK many years ago. The Netherlands, I have learned, is one of the most densely populated countries (perhaps the most densely populated) in Europe. Yet, Drenthe Province, home of Meppel, is quite rural. Meppel itself is a small city, 30,000-ish people. And tidy. Oh, so tidy. I don’t think I saw a speck of trash until we traversed into Germany and then Venlo. I also didn’t see anyone who appeared to be really down on their luck in the parts of the Netherlands we’ve visited. Later on, I saw two people begging and one lady picking through a trash bin, both in Germany. A hotel employee in Meppel confirmed my theory about income disparity or lack thereof. He said paychecks only show net income, not withholding. Taxes start at 30% and go up progressively to 50%. VAT (sales tax) is built into the prices. Health insurance is “required,” is how he put it, so everyone is covered. The roads are smooth, even out in the countryside. Virtually everyone drives bicycles (like maniacs), some drive motor scooters, most cars are tiny and frankly adorable. I can’t translate the price of gas, Euros and liters. Our hybrid rental went everywhere we drove the entire trip on a single tank of gas, which seemed remarkable to me. I kept wondering if we would run out of gas! By the way, if you’ve heard about the Netherlands being the “low country,” it surely is. When I checked the altitude in my second story hotel room, I found I was 10 feet above sea level. And there are canals everywhere. I didn’t really learn much about my ancestors in Meppel. Everyone I spoke with — at the public library, at the Oud Meppel (Old Meppel) historical society, at the 15th century church (De Grote of Maria Kerk) — responded with “Whoa, that was a long time ago!” when I told them ancestor-2 emigrated in 1655 and I have reason to believe his father and mother remained behind. I did learn that everyone I spoke with was incredibly kind, tried their utmost to be helpful, and shifted seamlessly between Dutch and English, a feat this uneducated American can only admire and envy. I spent a lot of time apologizing for only speaking English. (Why do we do this?) One theory of history percolated forth, however. When ancestor-2 emigrated, he and spouse carried no surname with them. Surnames simply hadn’t been invented yet in this part of the world. The surname once acquired became VanAlstine, or VanAlstyne, or VanAelstyn, or VanAlstijne, or variations thereof. So, how did the name, apparently acquired in America, transfer back? I have found one Dutch record with VanAlstijne, so some transfer apparently occurred. Regardless, I have read that the name means high stone or old stone (oud steen).

Here’s my weird hypothesis.  How could this happen? There are almost no stones in the Netherlands!  But up north in Drenthe there are Hunebed, ancient gravesites assembled by [somehow] stacking massive boulders left there by the glaciers.  (Virtually all the other soil we saw up there was sand.). The Hunebed (there are about 54 of them, they’re numbered) were built about 3000 years ago.  Two, D53 and D54, are quite near Meppel and each other.  Perhaps that is the source of the oud steen?  I’ll probably never know for sure.  But it makes for a really good theory and something to research.

D53 & D54, very close to Meppel

The other thing to know is that the Germans disassembled D53 during WW2 in order to build an airfield.  Flat site with a handy dune next to it to survey the landscape. To do this, they just moved the boulders aside and left them.  After the war, using pre-war photographs as a construction guide, the Dutch dug out the boulders and reassembled the Hunebed exactly as it had been before.  They reassembled some of their prehistory! So much of that had to be done. Virtually every church we saw was damaged, some all but obliterated, during the war.  And then they rebuilt. Here’s what it looks like today ...

D53, rebuilt after WW2

A few more things about Meppel.  The town center is quite dense, and the buildings — commercial and residential — are fairly tightly packed.  The houses are all very similar in style, nearly all red brick with sharply peaked red tile roofs. Virtually impossible to tell how old (or new) they are.  We saw two, count ‘em two, very modern looking houses out in the countryside on the way to visit the Hunebed. Despite their modernity — not brick and with different window styles — they were shaped exactly the same as all the other, traditional houses.  The homogeneity of housing design is surprisingly pleasant, not boring at all. And plants! Everyone seems to have a thing for plants. Windows full of house plants, tiny gardens with glorious heterogeneity of plant content and style. And the streets and sidewalks are all brick and cobblestones, perfectly kept.

My first contact with an old style wooden windmill (molen) was beside the Oud Meppel building. Because our weekend in Meppel coincided with the annual Open Monuments event (2 days), many heritage sites were open and FREE. The mill and the old church were among these sites. The mill has been recently renovated — think timberframe assembled with wooden pegs — and there are plans to begin grinding mustard, once they acquire and install a grinding stone. We were able to climb up to the windmill deck and from inside up into the second floor. There you could look out, up the canal and over the whole town, and see the reverse side of the arms as they came flying (literally) past the open window. On the main level they had little sample jars of mustard from another city, which I was not going to buy. However, when I told the mill-keeper I was a fan of French mustard and had no experience with Dutch mustard, he insisted I take home two little jars (TSA-approved size), gratis. Nice people.

At the conclusion of our trip, Lisa and I agreed that Meppel won the award for most quaint town we visited. Such a lovely little place, good food, friendly people. I hope to do some more research and return one day.

Old Haarlem & Amsterdam

Day 1

Our hotel, the Amadeus, was right there hiding in plain sight.  On the square, within spitting distance of the church with the massive organ where Mozart once played.  History surrounds me.

Following TripAdvisor’s advice, lunch was “the best frites in Haarlem.”  Not sure the label fits, but the frites were freshly fried, served in a traditional paper cone for takeaway.  I opted for mayo (rich and oddly sweet) in lieu of ketchup.  When in Haarlem, eh?

Lost the afternoon to a nap.  Dinner was an authentic Dutch place, Balletje, known for its meatballs.  Imagine an oven-ready personal casserole containing a massive meatball (beef, chicken, or veggie), choice of sauce (Dutch gravy for me), atop a choice of potato with mix-ins (red cabbage + crispy diced apple for me).  Comfort food, filling.  The beer also a bit unusual.  Trappist brew, mildly brown, also just a touch sweet.

Day 2 — Amsterdam after breakfast.

I had a short list of things to see in Amsterdam.  Go by (somewhat ambivalent about going in) the Anne Frank house (huis).  Visit the Homomonument, a monument to long-persecuted LGBT people.  Visit the West India House (West-Indisch Huis) where the Dutch West India Company decided in 1625 to establish New Amsterdam.  At least one of my DNA ancestors worked for the WIC before their bankruptcy or near-bankruptcy.  He decided to emigrate with his family to New Amsterdam in 1655.

We found the Anne Frank house surrounded by a mob of people.  The Homomonument was less populated, partly because it is so well hidden albeit right out in the open on a square on a busy corner by a canal.

No one was at the West-Indisch Huis.  The exterior walls appear contemporary but I barged through some open doors into an inner courtyard and found the exterior walls of the old building, the surprisingly petite statue of Peter Stuyvesant (erstwhile Governor of New Amsterdam), and a sweet plaque commemorating American-Netherlands collaboration in renovating and preserving the old building.  It is still in use, housing, among other things, the John Adams Institute.

After much walking, canal peaking, and narrowly averted bicycle crashes, we returned to Haarlem in late afternoon.

A note about public transport is in order here.  Sigh.

Would that the U.S. had even a fraction of the transport options that exist in Europe.  We took an easy (every 6 minutes easy) bus from the airport to Haarlem.  One thing that made it so efficient was that it appeared to operate on a dedicated roadway (busway?) that ran parallel to the autoway.  In places where it crossed dedicated bikeways, railroad-style arms came down to block the bicyclists’ path from the bus.

To get from Haarlem to Amsterdam we took a train, a “Sprinter,” which inexplicably is a tiny bit slower than the “Intercity” line.  Regardless, it’s a 15-20 minute trip.  Through lovely green countryside, horses, cows, sheep, and one IKEA.

On the other hand, navigation within cities is difficult.  Old, old street systems resemble spaghetti in their curvature and interweavings.  But we got there, every time ... eventually.

The big 16th century church in Haarlem.

I’m not much one for churches, but this one has some interesting features.  A massive, massive organ — pipes reaching 30 meters high.  When I arrived, someone was playing bits and pieces.  They may have been practicing.  I hung around simply hoping that they would play something start to finish.  Never happened.

Except for the wooden portion in the middle, the floor is paved with grave markers, front to back.  Some of the stained glass is very simple, with panes in geometric patterns.  The most recent edition (2000s) is very modern but beautiful and takes nothing away from the old.  The vaulted ceiling is wood, except for the intersection of the transept (? never sure about these churchy terms).  That part is gloriously, but simply, painted.

Impressions

This country has a bazillion bicycles, and not a few motorbikes.  I can’t imagine trying to negotiate a roadway within a large city in this country by any conveyance navigated by me.  See spaghetti, above.  Bicycles come plain, with front-facing boxes, with boxes with tents, with all sorts of boxes actually.  Many are wooden, a few plastic.  The Dutch have been very inventive in their designs for bicycles that will carry a variety of things, from children to inanimate cargo.  I don’t think I ever saw a single bike with a child on the rear, American-style.

Even that which is old looks shockingly new in these two Dutch cities.  Everything just appears to be in such good repair, and that which is not appears to be undergoing renovation.  I guess that’s how you keep history going.

Amsterdam, especially, is crowded.  Very, very crowded.  I’ll blame the tourists.  I’ve been to New York, San Francisco, London (many times), and Paris.  I don’t think I've ever been in a city that rivals Amsterdam for crowded.  That was unexpected.  I wonder what it’s like during winter?