Netherlands/Berlin Trip - Alkmaar      17th July:

Old Men Punting Cheeses to the Cheese Market

    For some unknown reason, we arose later than usual. Hmmm.. perhaps I over did the route marching yesterday. The sky was blue, but by the time we had breakfasted, clouds had arrived and a stiff breeze had blown up. Meryl and I watched an elderly chap punting a boat loaded with cheeses down the Luttik Oudorp.
    Off we marched up to the Waagplein, the backdrop for the traditional cheese market, held every Friday. We came across more boats loaded with cheeses as we neared the cheese market. The noise of the crowd at the market steadily increased from a murmur to a din as we neared the Waag, and the amplified voice of a female commentator rung out above it all. She spoke in Dutch, English and German; a clever lass. The cheese market first took place in 1622. However, cheeses have been weighed in Alkmaar since 1365. In bygone days the cheeses were transported by boat through the canal, hence the number of boats loaded with cheese we had seen in the canals.

Cheeses Spread over the Waagplein - Notice the Wedding Couple in the Centre Right

    But we were aware that all this was for show. The famous cheese market is no longer a real market, but a show for tourists. Cheese is no longer traded among cheese-traders, but produced and distributed from factories, like most food products. Alkmaar cheese market is one of only four traditional Dutch cheese markets still in existence. The traditional fare of this cheese market is those cheeses made in the local area, as opposed to the well-known brands of Dutch cheeses, i.e. Edam cheese and Gouda cheese. It is not actually possible to buy cheese at the market itself, though it is surrounded by many specialized stalls where it is possible to buy all kinds of cheese (and non-cheese) related products.

Cheese Carriers

    The Waagplein square, normally full of tables and chairs, was now a large rectangular ringed off area, with multitudes of folk five or six deep surrounding it. Inside the ring, neat rows of cheeses were stacked. Promptly at 10am a bell rang, folk applauded, and the show began with a group of serious looking elderly gents plus one woman, the cheese inspectors, all wearing white coats, wandering down one of the rows. The occasional cheese was cut in half, it was felt and squeezed, smelt, and tasted. Cores were also removed and went through the same rigorous inspection. Wise heads nodded, words were exchanged, and they moved further on down the row. Hands were clapped between buyer and seller once the deal was sealed. Then blokes dressed in blue started loading a batch of eight approved cheeses onto wooden barrows, which were in turn picked up by other stocky chaps, the cheese carriers, all dressed in white, but they wore different coloured hats.
    The cheese carriers all belong to a specific warehousing company; e.g. the red, green, yellow and blue warehousing company, recognisable by the colour of the barrow and straw hat of the cheese carrier. The cheese carrier guild still complies with the old traditions. For example, the leader, recognisable by his orange hat, is called "pops" by all the cheese carriers. The cheese carriers have their own nicknames too; the cheese carrier with the nickname "the Executioner" keeps precise track of the cheese carriers who are late, after which they are fined. Watching them, I could not help but think of Morris Dancers. The carriers sort of shuffled/trotted off with a funny arm movement that looked as though their arms were puppet arms on strings, really most peculiar, but this stepping out of time rhythm "cheese carriers' dribble" allowed the barrow to be transported with the least jogging of the cheeses. The barrows were carried using slings around the carriers' shoulders, a wise move since each cheese weighed a fair amount, with each cheese weighing 13.5Kg, and a wooden barrow weighing 25Kg, resulting in a 130Kg payload. The barrows were thus transported to the Waaghuis, where the cheeses were weighed, and then they were carried to hand carts, onto which the cheeses were loaded. When fully loaded, the carts were wheeled off to waiting lorries around the corner.

Cheeses Loaded onto a Handcart

    Humour was introduced into the proceedings via a couple of barrows which carried children and an adult across the square, or in one instance an overweight spectator taking a turn as a cheese carrier.
    For some obscure reason, a wedding party turned up, and the bride and groom walked up to the Waaghuis for photos to be taken. Rex wondered who on earth would want part of their wedding ceremony in a cheese market. "Well, in England we always ask people to say 'cheese' when their photos are being taken," I replied. This comment was received by a hail of groans, I can't think why.
    As an aside, the people of Alkmaar are also called cheese heads. This derives from the fact that during the siege the people of Alkmaar wore "helmets" on their heads to defend themselves. These helmets were actually the cheese moulds in which cheeses were pressed, so called cheese heads.

Clog Maker

    An encampment of stalls spread along two sides of the Plein, selling their inevitable ranges of cheeses, arts and crafts. I could not resist sampling the cheeses. A fellow at one stall was making clogs out of blocks of willow. He did most of the carving with a single blade which had a hook at the end of the blade, the hook fitting into a ring attached to his work bench acted as a universal joint and helped the man's leverage. Special tools were used to scrape out the interior of the clogs. I was mesmerised by how quickly this skilled craftsman worked. He had already made the left clog, which now stood on a little plinth in front of him, and as he carved the right clog, he would periodically stand it next to the left clog to check for size and shape. He was a very clever and patient bloke.
    Once we had had our fill of the cheese market, Meryl melted away into a green grocer's for a spot of fruit retail therapy. Rex and I hovered about outside, wondering if she had actually started to plant the seeds and was waiting for them to grow. As we hung around on the pavement, eyeballing the citrus fruits, Rex came out with the wonderful comment, "Why are we standing about like a pair of lemons!"
    Laden with fruit, we headed back to Duonita, and prepared ourselves for our trip to Amsterdam.

Silent Spectators of the Cheese Market

    The journey down was painless, the sleek double decker train gliding silently through heavily ditched terrain, leading to the built up area of Zaandam. Then, to Rex's delight, we passed under the Noordzeekanaal.
    We arrived early, so a swift orange juice in a harbour terrace cafe, and then we caught up with Richard and Angela. Over a beer in an outside cafe, I found them to be a charming couple: witty, intelligent and down-to-earth.
    We enjoyed our meal together in the Dulac restaurant in Haarlemmerstraat which we visited four days earlier. Again we were accompanied by good, chilling-out music in the background, a blast of Eric Clapton for example. The evening was full of bonhomie and joie de vivre, though Meryl was a little miffed, in a joking way that Richard and Angela had managed to get into the Van Gogh museum.
    After a thoroughly enjoyable evening we bade our farewells, and returned back to Alkmaar. At 11pm, the streets were now deserted, with occasional huddles of noise and laughter centred on the sprinkling of bars, cafes and restaurants. It had been a fun day.