Netherlands/Berlin Trip - Amsterdam      12th July:

    Light rain had fallen through the night, and the skies were a steely grey. This seemed to have an effect on the marina gent's washrooms, all the plumbing was blocked.
    Observing a string of yachts speedily heading up to the lock, we leisurely got ourselves organised, and slowly headed out and up through the lock. There was a penalty to be paid for our casual tardiness. Once through the lock we discovered that we were too late for the subsequent motorway bridge opening, and we had a 3 hour wait until the next opening. Oh what joy. Rex cursed fluently in English and Dutch, his newly acquired guttural sounds going into overdrive.
    We tied up to a waiting pontoon, and I took the opportunity to catch up on my reading, currently an autobiography by Martin Johnson. My son Dan had bought it for me for Christmas years ago; I still have shelves of books that I need to get around to reading. By the time the bridge opened, a complete flotilla had joined us. Come opening time, they were all jockeying for position. The traffic queued up on the motorway seemed to stretch to the horizon.
    One more bridge and we were out in the Noordzeekanaal. Rex and I had passed down this same stretch of water two years earlier on our way from the Ijsselmeer to the UK.
    Today it was Sunday, and the barge traffic was minimal. In an ever increasing cool wind, we passed factory after factory: steel, cement, chemical and petrol, many of them sited around their own particular large harbours such as Afrikahaven, Amerikahaven, Coenhaven and many more.

One of the Many Harbour Entrances on the Noordzeekanaal

Chemical Barge Ploughing Ahead

    On our way towards Amsterdam, we noted the entrance site on the northern bank that we would use to access the Zaan later in our tour. The Amsterdam Marina we were heading for was not too far from here. The marina was huge. As we entered a sudden gale got up, and we found there was an acute shortage of visitor's pontoons to tie up to. Now we had been leap-frogging another British boat since Kraag, and its owners had managed to tie up. Meryl shouted across, "Can we come alongside you, please?" "Of course you can," was the welcome response. The elderly couple on board were from Anglesey, the chap tall and slim, his wife a little rotund. They were a kind and chatty pair, and the fellow extolled me the virtues of sailing around Anglesey.
    I sorted out a berth for us. I don't know how but I managed to get us in a prime position near the marina facilities. Rex and I had spotted this marina two years ago when it was still being built. Now it was a slick setup with excellent facilities, and a restaurant that people seemed to drive to from out of the area.
    After a mass laundering exercise, we went to the same restaurant for our evening meal. The place was exceedingly popular, the food excellent, and the portions over generous. Service was good too. As far as ordering drinks was concerned, it was almost instantaneous delivery. A small, cheery, wiry guy would take an order, press keys on his hand held device, and within seconds the drinks would be magically delivered by a waitress.
    In the evening, as we watched large barges glide up and down the canal, and an enormous ship get manoeuvred into a harbour, I noted that this was the first time in about a week when we had not been in the flight path of Schiphol airport. Also, more importantly, there were no mosquitos - a rest for Meryl then.