Netherlands/Berlin Trip - Spaarndam      10th July:

Sailing School under Tow

    Under a cloudless sky we left Kaag and got through the train and road bridges painlessly. Effortlessly we glided along with a convoy of other vessels. On one side of us we could gaze down and across lush, green agricultural land, on the other side a road ran alongside crammed with dozens of speeding cyclists, all ablaze in the most colourful of kits. Beyond the road, more lush land stretched away to the horizon. In the distance we could see a steady stream of aircraft gaining altitude after taking off from Schiphol airport, banking over our heads as they headed off to far flung places around the globe. It was idyllic sitting on deck under the warm sun.
    We passed through pretty towns such as Lisse, with houses lining the canal banks, and of course all with immaculately kept gardens. We negotiated a few more bridges before arriving at the Cruquiusbrug just before a waterway junction, the junction being guarded by the Museum de Cruquius, once an old pumping station.

Are These Guys Waiting for a Ferry?

    We turned off at this junction and headed up the Zuider Buiten Spaarne towards Haarlem. Cows lazily grazed in the fields to the left of us, some stooping down to take a drink out of the river.
    We had been travelling in a convoy of multinational vessels, and this convoy was to be maintained as we traversed the city of Haarlem. Ten bridges had to be negotiated along the way, each involving gilling about for a wee while, though the rail bridge took appreciably longer. Rex was slowly but surely getting wound up by these tedious obstacles, though I quite liked the delays since it allowed us time to admire the attractive city from the waterway.

Wonder if There is Rising Damp in the Basement

    Near the end of this traverse, we had to pull in to pay a fee towards the bridge openings. A small pontoon lay beside the pay-station, and of course there was not enough room for us. A long gilling about session took place. Then, boats coming along in the opposite direction darted onto spaces on the pontoon as soon as they became available. We would be there for forever and a day. In the end we resorted to tying to a ladder further up the quay. Meryl jumped onto the quay and ran off to pay our dues. She soon came back, "There is nobody there, just a machine, but a nice Belgium chap gave me this ticket," she said smiling, waving the ten euros ticket. I presume the guy had pressed the wrong button for the length of his boat, and he needed to buy a more appropriate ticket. We were not going to argue.

Grote Kerk in Haarlem

    Once we possessed the ticket, we moved on. Sadly, another British yacht was still gilling about waiting to tie up; we never knew if he ever made it.
    The Haarlemsche Jachtclub on the northern extremes of Haarlem seemed too remote, a very long hike through fields would be required to reach civilisation, besides we scraped a mud bank in the shallow waters near it. Thus we headed up a short distance to Spaarndam. Here I located the old harbour master in the equally old antique looking chandlery which he ran. He could have stepped straight out of a Dickens' novel. He was a taciturn chap, but I eventually gleaned where we were allowed to moor, and where the facilities were. This was indeed a very laid back marina.
    Spaarndam is a very small town, the old port centred around the Ijdijk where the sluis and other locks all converged.
    I took a stroll around the waterfront along the Pol, then around the back of Fort Zuiden Spaarndam. The fort, built in the period 1882-1903, forms part of the Defence Line of Amsterdam. There is only a narrow strip of land that could be flooded between the Spaarne and the sand dunes to the west, so this fort and one to the north acted as a line of defence against potential attacks on Amsterdam. The fort has been restored and houses a gallery and a café.

Waag on Left and Teylers Museum on Right

    A good walk took me down the Nieuwe Rijweg past the flat Hekslootpolder populated with cows, horses, geese, and a large collection of military defence bunkers. I picked up the only road that crosses the Spaarne in Spaarndam, and started to march down it, coming across a group of school lads by a lock. They were all jumping off a bridge into the Windsor Soup water below. "Hello," they all said in perfect English. How on earth did they know I was English?
    I strolled past the one and only bus stop and the church as I crossed the Ijdijk, and came across a statue. Spaarndam has always been strongly connected to water, and it is now also famous because of a story within the American novel written by Mary Mapes Dodge and first published in 1865, "Hans Brinker or the Silver Skates". The novel takes place in the Netherlands and is a colourful fictional portrait of early 19th century Dutch life, as well as a tale of youthful honour. The story within the book is about a Dutch boy, "The Hero of Haarlem," who stuck his finger in a dyke to prevent the town from flooding. The story became a popular legend in America, and in 1950 the local tourist bureau put a statue of this character in Spaarndam. A short distance further on I came to the main lock. Here I paused a while and watched a large barge lining itself up to enter the lock. In front of it was a small motor boat displaying the Red Ensign. It tootled into the lock with all the time in the world. However, the lady lock-keeper was singularly unimpressed, and came out to spur the motor boat on. The barge followed the craft in menacingly, followed in turn by a couple of more boats.

Fort Zuiden Spaarndam

    I chuckled at the dippy English couple, sharing my thoughts with an elderly Dutch chap who stood beside me while the bridge was up. I learned he lived in the village, so I asked him about the military constructions I had seen in the fields to the west of Nieuwe Rijweg. He explained they were originally gun positions erected to defend against the French. In fact the whole of Amsterdam had a defence ring of such systems built around it, and similar to the Fortified Triangle Area we had visited the previous year, huge tracts of land could be flooded for defence purposes if necessary.

Spaarndam Church

The Hero of Haarlem - Finger in the Dyke

    Once the roadway was restored, we shook hands and went our separate ways. The bulk of the town to the east of the Spaarne was a modern, residential development, again highly manicured. A supermarket served as the only food shop in town.
    I returned back along the Ijdijk via a different route, passing a pretty square in front of a small harbour. Meryl had prepared a delicious chicken salad for our evening meal, and very welcome it was too.
    In the evening all three of us retraced my steps. Meryl acquired Citronelle candles at the supermarket, to aid out battle against the mosquitos; she was really getting into the swing of things regarding the little brutes. To prepare for the onslaught, we stopped off at the Cafe de Toerist for a beer; a very popular restaurant it was too.