Netherlands/Berlin Trip - Akersloot      14th July:

    The wind had shifted further to the west overnight, which resulted in Duonita constantly tugging and relaxing against her mooring lines. This was not really an issue when down below, but more noticeable when up in the cabin. The outputs from the belching chimneys across the canal now passed directly over us, leaving an acrid, sulphurous smell in the air. The skies maintained their grey, monotonous appearance, but it wasn't cold.
    I met the couple from Anglesey. Their intention was to spend another day in Amsterdam before moving on to the Ijsselmeer, where they hoped to visit Hoorn, Enkhuizen and Medemblik. I praised the virtues of these place that we had visited two years ago, pointing out that a steam train ran from Hoorn to Medemblik. "That will be good," said the lady, "our grandchildren are coming out to stay with us for a while." They intended to find a boat shed by the Ijsselmeer to leave their boat over winter. "I don't want to repeat that journey from Anglesey again," said the chap, who must have been in his 70s.
    We slipped our mooring, and negotiated our way around a large customs motor boat that had decided to venture into the marina.
    Then we were out in the busy Noordzeekanaal again, immediately confronted by a large barge turning around whilst other barges sped past. A ship even decided to enter the canal to provide more entertainment. The stench from the factories was overpowering.

Charging Barge on the Noordzeekanaal

    We left all that behind as we turned off the Noordzeekanaal and entered the lower reaches of the Zaan. A strong smell of coffee being roasted emanated from a building on the left bank.
    As we progressed up the Zaan, we passed by chocolate-box houses on the banks, lush fields and huge factory complexes. Barges also ploughed up and down this industrialised waterway.

Pretty Town of Zaandijk

    At the pretty town of Zaandijk, we passed by the Royal Duyvis Wiener complex, the leading manufacturer of cocoa processing and chocolate production equipment, founded in 1885 in the heart of the Dutch cocoa industry. Factories were strewn across both banks, the aroma wafting across the water ranging from sweet chocolate to a bitter, almost burnt smell. The whole affair stretched for over a kilometre.
    Rounding a bend after chocolate world, we were suddenly confronted by the Zaanse Schans, a group of beautiful, colourful windmills on the right bank. It is a collection of well-preserved wooden windmills, barns, houses and museums, built in the typically Dutch wooden architectural style, from all over the Zaanstreek, and were relocated here from 1961. The site aimed to recreate the feel of a living and working community that dated back to the 18th and 19th centuries. Judging by the number of folk clambering around them, they were certainly a very popular attraction.

Zaanse Schans. From Left to Right: Het Jonge Schaap (the young sheep), De Zoeker (the seeker), De Kat (the cat), De Gekroonde Poelenburg (the crowned poelenburg) and De Huisman (the houseman)

Albino Wallaby

    Our surroundings gradually gave way to much more pastureland, populated by ditches and small lakes. It really was an idyllic setting. We turned off the Markenvaart into the Enge Stierop, a small canal that led towards the Alkmaardermeer. All along the Enge Stierop groups of children were tacking into the wind in large dinghies, up to six in a boat. They were having huge fun, and politely waved and passed greetings to us as we picked our way around them.
    The narrow canal opened out into the vast expanse of the Alkmaardermeer. A buoyed channel through it defined our route. Myriads of yachts and dinghies were out sailing on the water taking advantage of the strong breeze. We slipped past a small wooded island, surrounded by a continuous pontoon where craft could tie up. Perhaps there was a chemical toilet on the island, maybe even BBQ facilities. Rosie and I had encountered and used such islands when we took a small boat out on Saranac Lake in New York State in 1980.

Sailing Race

    
    Towards the top end of the Meer lay the small town of Akersloot, where we pulled into a marina. The harbour master was an easy going chap, and the rate for the night, 9.80 euros, including electricity. Unbelievably cheap.
    The Gods favoured us and the sun made its presence felt. And to top it all, we sat under the flight path to Schiphol again.
    I took a hike around Akersloot. Quiet, well kept, tidy streets criss-crossed the town. Periodically down the side streets, amongst the residential buildings, I would randomly come across a fishmonger, butcher, baker, hair dresser, garage etc. I discovered a small fenced in strip of grass land, the Julianaplein, which contained a pond and animals such as albino wallabies, deer, hens and geese. They were very tame, and I must confess I had never come across an albino wallaby before. A small canal ran through the town, and on the other side of it, behind an old people's home, stood the supermarket and church. There wasn't much else to the town really.
    I dragged Rex and Meryl around later. They took an interest in the old doctor's house for sale; makes a change from boats for sale I suppose. After a few purchases in the supermarket, we walked back via the water meadows, home to cows and a couple of well-kept horses. Meryl stopped for a chat with the latter.
    In the evening a regatta took place from the marina. We tucked into food there and then watched the final stages of the race. I must confess I did not understand the intricacies of the race, but Rex and Meryl were enthralled, to the extent that they checked out the results on the internet afterwards. Now that is keen.