I am comfortably ensconced on the good ship Ingvi of the Viking Fleet.  We have a reasonably sized, open veranda room on the top deck.  It is nearing the end of day two and we are sailing toward Cologne tonight.  Tomorrow morning we will awake to the portion of the Rhine running through Germany.  We have been told that in the upcoming days, our boat will be passing by over forty castles located up ahead in the Rhine Gorge.  But today was about windmills and their role in the history of the Netherlands.

Before our day’s outing, we were briefed on the history of the Netherlands.  The name itself means “low lands” and the costal third of the country holds 85% of the population on land that is up to three meters below sea level.  So why would people live in an area that would be so difficult and expensive to keep dry?  The reason is simple, the land is fertile and the coast provides the base for their trading.  The end result is that the people of the Netherlands are pioneers in the art of water management.  They raise the water the nearly ten feet necessary to move it into the rivers that drain the area leaving behind the rich fertile land that is now dry land.

As you can guess, this is a major task requiring ingenuity at every step.  The water must be sent out and the sea must be kept from coming in.  Early on, the water needed to rise around three feet, but due to further sinking of the land (see the effect of peat farming), the height required, increased.  The solution was found in windmills.  The windmills, set in a series, were able to gradually step the water up the ten feet needed to drop it into the rivers.

The windmills, still in operation today, date back to the 1700’s.  We were allowed to enter a working demonstration windmill, climb to its very top cap and witness the huge wooden gears working the pumps located in the base.  The woosh of the four huge sails was incredible.  To our surprise, we were told they were only turning at about one-third of their maximum speed.  Even at this speed, the thought of being hit by them as they turned less than a foot from the ground, kept spectators well behind the barrier gates set up to keep us a safe distance back.

 

When inspecting these behmouths, you are first awed by their sheer size, afterall, the miller and his family would live inside the windmill.  When you realized that all of their inner workings were hand made of wood and that they are still running after nearly three hundred years, you are struck by the workmanship.  It was explained simply as “without the windmill, there would have been no Netherlands to inhabit.”

Today has been another day of reality intercepting perception.  I have an improved understanding of why the Netherlands exist and a renewed respect for the farmers turned civil engineers who invented and continue to improve water management.  They are proof that necessity is the mother of invention.

Day two on the river is coming to an end as I type this blog.  Tonight I will sit out on our veranda and listen to the river roll by as our boat sails its waters.  Later I will retire to the vibration of her engines and the gentle rocking of the waters as they slide by beneath us.  Tomorrow we explore Cologne and I can’t wait to record my next experiences.

 

This is my fourth entry.  If you missed the other three and want to catch up, go to http://www.kenismsblog.com and look for the “Journey Begins”, “Somewhere over Ireland”, and “A little History and a little Beer”.

I just finished my third day in Amsterdam and felt it appropriate to give a summary, caution…. I didn’t say it would be brief.  Many things about the city stuck out for me.  It is ironic that I grew up in a small town that was mostly Dutch descendants but it took me until day three to put that in perspective when I saw a familar name on a boat slip.

Enough about reminiscing.  In no particular order, these are the five things that most impressed me or at least left my opinion changed…. canals, bikes, trams, pulleys and the red light district.

Canals are laid out like beltlines in Amsterdam and they not only provide an alternate transportation system, they drain the city, divide the city into neighborhoods and provide a landmark for navigating through the city.  They flow gracefully as they surround the city and provide dock sites for countless houseboats.  The tour boats ply their waterways all day and into the evening, giving all who climb onboard a very different view and a unique perspective on the city.

As you navigate the city and especially its canals, you will notice pulleys protruding from the upper eaves of almost every building.  They look perfectly part of the architecture but are utilitarian in purpose.  Taxes assessed against buildings in the city were originally based on the frontage of the building.  As a result, the locals reduced their tax liability by building their houses perpendicular to the street they faced.  This reduced their taxable frontage but meant the buildings were extremely narrow, often no more than ten to twelve feet.  This adaptation left them too narrow to move anything of size into the building much less up to the upper floors.  The solution was pulleys.  The pulleys allowed the tenants to simple hoist their furniture and goods up to and through the windows.  The effect is impressive.  Some buildings, built very close to the canal bank, would go so far as to slant the upper floors out over the street below to further advantage the canals.

One feature of Amsterdam that stood out for me was the trams.  I have been to cities with tram systems, but Amsterdam takes it very seriously.  The trams run everywhere and on time and timely.  I never had to wait more than ten minutes nor did I have to work very hard on what tram I needed to board.  To make life even better, the passes are inexpensive and so easy to use.  Scan in, scan out.  Jump on, jump off.  Now I admit we scanned out improperly one night causing the system to think we had ridden all night, but after a slight inconvenience, a stop at the conductor’s desk, we were back on track, no pun intended.  Next time I am sitting in a line of semi-parked cars on our beltline, I will be thinking longingly of what I can only wish we had.  Thank you Amsterdam.  You gave me every opportunity to explore your city.

 

It would seem a glaring ommission if I were to skip over the red light district.  Afterall, it is likely the first thing you thought of when Amsterdam was mentioned.  I am happy to tell you it exists.  It is a business but it is not quite as visible as your imgination might project.  It is in fact, well marked and yet hard to actually find.  As you wind through the streets and alleyways of “old town”, you find yourself craning your neck looking at every window for a glimpse.  At best you will find the occassional bikini clad mistress in one of the windows.  The red light district is historic in nature and actually meant to keep the city cleaner and the business ironically less obtrusive.  The Dutch were traders and Amsterdam was their base.  As such, there were plenty of sailors and traders to make prostituion a very profitable endevour.  Without the control of the red light district, the confrontation would be much more…well confrontational.  The red light district provided control of the taxes and the location.  Did I go looking for the district, of course I did.  But then everyone does.  It’s just history you see and pretty much required.

 

I have saved the best for last, the bikes.  I can only try to do this topic justice.  There are, at best estimate, over 600,000 bikes in Amsterdam.  Considering the population is 900,000….well, pretty impressive.  I suspect that World War Two had a lot to do with it’s growth, the flat landscape and attention to bike lanes only add to the attractiveness of this mode of transportation.

 

 

 

The numbers are one thing.  I knew, because everyone told me, that there were going to be bikes everywhere.  But it is so much more.  In America we ride fancy bikes, often ten speeds at the very least, hunched over our handlebars and attempting to see how far and how fast we can ride.  Some might use their bikes to get somewhere, but most of us just ride to ride.

In Amsterdam it is all about the transportation.  The first striking difference is the bike itself.

They are utilitarian in design, three speed at best, with straight handlebars, up high where you can ride erect, eyes on the road ahead.  The bikes almost look old fashioned with their cargo boxes, child seats and saddlebags attached.  But the effect is so different.  Bike riders ride, no, glide by effortlessly, easily keeping pace with the cars, buses and trams that travel one lane over.  This creates a slight problem for the uneducated in that they own those bike lanes and the pedestrian must be ever vigil.  I had been warned about that and had envisioned the American version of a speeding biker, finger erect, letting me know I had invaded their sacred space.  But it was so different.  They owned the bike lane, even earned it with their elegant simplicity, but it was just the gentle jingle of their bike bells that you would ever hear.  Two days in, I was getting accustomed to their prescence and had come to respect their right to the lane.  Afterall, they were going somewhere, be it to work, the market or to some other event that they would arrive at without any addition to the carbon footprint.  Just tire tracks left quietly by human effort alone.

 

There is really no way to fully describe Amsterdam.  I and other travelers can tell you our stories but in truth, you will just have to experience it.  I hope that you will one day get the chance and I truly hope you won’t miss the opportunity.

It is almost midnight here and the river boat I am on, the Viking Ingvi, has just left the pier.  Tomorrow I get to expand my exploration as we head up the Rhine to new sights and new opportunities.  I hope you will keep following me, but until the next edition, I am off.

We have been flying all night, which is a relative term.  While my watch says it is 5:00 am, the outside tells me it is much later.  Seven hours later to be exact.  It is a strange sensation, especially if it is the first time one has ever done it, to fly east, racing toward the sunrise.  The airlines, Delta in our case, does everything possible to help you through this body clock dilemma.  You are served dinner at 11:00 pm, lights and all noise dimmed, eye shades handed out along with blankets and pillows all to get you ready for the big time shift that awaits you.

I walk through the plane several times during the wee hours of the morning, enviously watching the seasoned travelers actually sleeping.  But sleep eludes me.  Though the seats are “comfort seats” designed for extra leg room, my legs will not let me sleep.  They twitch and remind me that I am sitting up when they want to be stretched out parallel to gravity.  The night passes and then at roughly 1:00 am, my time when I should be sound asleep, the plane catches up with the sunrise and reality sets in, you have reached tomorrow, today.

The plane comes awake at 4:30 am.  By this I mean that the lights are slowly brought up and breakfast sounds are coming from the galley.  At 5:00 am we are having breakfast, while miles below, somewhere over the coast of Ireland, they are sitting down to lunch.  As we are landing soon, my body will just have to adapt if this adventure is to begin.  It has been twenty-four hours since I got up in my bedroom thousands of miles behind us.  The world has shrunk and we aren’t in Kansas anymore.

Next stop, Amsterdam, with its canals, windmills and bikes…..hundreds and hundreds of bikes.