Netherlands/Berlin Trip - Edam      28th July:

Town Hall

    Another night of rain, wind and the boat jolting against her mooring lines as gusts tried to wrench her free. During the morning, squall after squall poured in bringing a drenching on each occasion.
    We had planned to get a bus down to Edam and Volendam, but we hung about until the worst of the weather had abated. It was afternoon before we headed to the bus station, delayed by a fretful wait at the toilet block while the lady cleaner transformed the men's facilities.
    We arrived at the bus station to see the bus to Edam just leaving, so we headed over the train bridge of the adjacent station to see if any of the steam trains were in operation (we travelled on a steam train between Hoorn and Medemblik a couple of years earlier). Sadly there weren't, so the only thing for it was to grab a coffee in the little cafe just over the bridge. The stout, cheery proprietor greeted us with a beaming smile, and once he realised we were English, started chatting away to us in our native tongue.

Former Post Office

    Being right next to the train station, the conversation moved onto trains, and the chap launched into a tirade about the Dutch train companies. "In my previous job I had to travel a lot on the trains. It became ridiculous. If there were a few leaves on the track, or a couple of snow flakes, or if it got too cold, or the lines buckled because it was too hot, the trains would just stop. And then there were times when we were all packed in like sardines, standing all the way. I paid good money for what was meant to be a decent service that ran to time, but I was not getting what I paid for. So I decided to do something about it. I wrote a letter of complaint to the officials in Utrecht, and I gave 500 copies to fellow travellers. All they had to do was enter their own name and address and send it off, but none of them did. The Dutch can be complacent fools, and never complain," he said, glad to have ears around while he got his passionate subject off his chest. This bloke would have slotted into a British commuter whinge session quite well.

Oldest Brick House - Now the Museum

    "Then there was the incident in Amsterdam," he continued in full torrent, "when all the people waiting on platform 5 were told to transfer to platform 11 instead. That platform was already crowded, and the newcomers were having to squeeze on. Then the announcement requested them all to move to platform 2 immediately. People were running back down narrow stairs and up other narrow stairs, with some falling and getting hurt, and others were getting really angry. Then they were all urgently requested to move to yet another platform. I just stood there and laughed at them all. Some people stopped and asked me why. 'Because you love doing this,' I replied. 'What do you mean we love doing this?' they asked. 'Because you never complain. When I ask people to complain, they never do.'"

Waag and Cheese Market

    There was no stopping him now as he ranted on at how both the Dutch and French had been complacent during World War II, and had not stood up to their invaders. "The Dutch bow down to Brussels all the time," he added. "Did you know Dutch farmers are being paid 100k euros to get rid of 200 cattle so that quotas set by Brussels are met. And supermarkets charge customers 6.70 euros for every euro they pay the farmers." Despite his cheerful demeanour, this man clearly had an armoury of axes to grind.
    He hadn't stopped yet, "Do you know that between the ages of 15-21, I worked in the food industry. If you knew what goes on with livestock, you would not eat half of it. The amount of hormones that is fed to livestock is unbelievable. You can understand now why girls as young as 11 are developing breasts nowadays, and men are developing "man boobs" too, it is all because of the hormones in the food system. In my cafe I boil all the chicken, ham and beef for at least 20 minutes before I do anything else with the meat, to try and reduce all the additives."
    We discovered he was half Dutch. I took a guess at the other half being Irish. I was almost right, his father was Dutch, and his mother came from Glasgow.
    We were his only customers, and I'm sure he would have loved to rant all day long, but we had to say our farewells to catch our bus.
    Our transportation was one of the extended concertina versions, and wound us all around dull suburbs of Hoorn before heading into the countryside. We sped along a highway bordered by ditches and trees, passing lush green pastureland with even more ditches, running down the fields at 50m spacings; there is no shortage of water in the land. Some fields contained herds of cattle, and many contained wind turbines, all madly spinning like Catherine Wheels in the strong wind. We passed through small villages, occasionally dropping off or picking up people.
    In no time at all we arrived in Edam, and as we alighted I tried to locate the bus station on the map I had, with no success. The bus was waiting a while, so I hopped back on and asked the driver. He couldn't see the bus station marked on the map neither, but using his knowledge of the route in he worked it out for us. He chatted all the time he was searching the map, and I detected a hint of a northern lilt in his English, and casually mentioned it to him. "I spent a few years in Liverpool," he said, "and I loved every minute of it." The scouse accent then came into focus.

Doopsgezinde Gemeente

    We picked up a self-guided walking tour, and Rex started to give a splendid tour of the town; he is wasted as a part-time consultant for the NHS.

Weeshuis

    Edam the town began in the 12th century, when farmers and fishermen settled along the little Ye river and "Yedam" emerged. Edam received its city privileges from the Earl of Holland in 1357, including the rights of internal jurisdiction and a toll-free port. The city privileges were of crucial importance in those times because of the permanent friction between local and regional/national law. Indeed the creed was: city breaks national law, clearing the way for the later dominant role of cities in Dutch history.

St. Nicolaaskerk

Library of St. Nicolaaskerk

    Shipbuilding and trade developed, making Edam one of North Holland's major ports, with 33 shipyards. Tidal movements kept deep access to the Zuiderzee, but the drawback was the constant threat of flooding to the hinterland. Emporer Charles V solved the problem by closing the open seaway in 1544, thus introducing the risk of silting. Naturally the shipbuilders were not a happy bunch on hearing this proposition, they preferred a deeper harbour. But the plan went ahead, with the Dam locks constructed in 1569, and silting occurred. The shipbuilding was affected, but trade flourished.

Nieuwvaartje - Former Farming Area

    As early as 1526 Edam had received the right to stage a weekly cheese market. Reclamation of the Beemster (1612) and Purmer (1622) lakes through Leeghwater's windmills made large areas of new cultivating soil available with the resultant boost in agricultural trading. Traditional fields of commerce such as the timber trade geared to shipbuilders' needs, as well as salt production through saltpans, were other important factors in industrial development. After the Dutch Golden Age around 1700, the nautical district to the south of the harbour took on different functions such as cheese warehousing, and later modern industries.
    The natural start to our tour was at the Dam Square, considered to be the town centre. The Dam, incorporating lock gates, was built in 1544 on the order of Emporer Charles V, and the Dam square was laid in 1624. After completion of the new sea locks in 1829, the Dam sluice became superfluous and the lock gates were removed.

Oldest Wooden Building

    We stood on the broad bricked-over canal covering of the Dam and took stock of what lay around us in the square. On our eastern side, behind large saucer-shaped pots of flowers, stood the stately Town Hall. Built in 1737, this imposing building that presided over the square displayed the Edam coat-of-arms above the Louis XIV style doorway.
    To the south of us was the former Post Office, designed by C. H. Peters, architect of Amsterdam. He was a student of P. J. H. Cuypers, designer of the Rijksmuseum and Central Station. The buildings neo-renaissance influences, light sandstone stripes and tower did follow a theme seen in the capital's buildings.
    Looking to the north of the Dam, we observed the oldest brick house in the town. Built around 1530 as a private dwelling, it was furnished as a museum in 1859. Natural stone, profile of the pinnacles and its asymmetry gave the step gable its late gothic character. Sadly we did not have time to look around the museum, though I would have loved to see its famous floating cellar; a brick box-shaped room, floating freely on the ground water. According to folklore it was built by a sea captain who missed the sea. Crumbs, why didn't he just opt for a house boat?
    Departing the Dam, we stepped back in time by walking along charming, cobblestone streets to the Cheese Market, where we indulged in sampling fresh cheeses made daily, Edam being noticeably softer and creamier than Gouda. As in Alkmaar, during market days, cheese was sold in a colourful manner employing straw-hatted cheese carriers carrying the cheeses on wooden barrows, between 1778 and 1922. The Waag with its stunning painted facade dated from 1778. Sadly, although farm cheese (Boerenkaas) can occasionally be found, nowadays most Edam cheese is produced in factories. Small groups of people posed around the square for those time immemorial snaps such as gran pushing a cheese barrow, a child sitting on the scales etc.

A Trio of "Gapers" in the Chemist Shop, Similar to the One We Saw in Haarlem

    Opposite the Cheese Market stood the meeting place of the Doopsgezinde Gemeente (Mennonite Church). In 1702, this clandestine building was built back from the building line, since then regulations stated that a Baptist church could not be built on public roads. In early 1500, there were inhabitants of Edam who adhered to the doctrine of the Anabaptists. These Anabaptists were the forerunners of today's Mennonites, and longed to return to the early Christian church, which existed before the Roman Catholic Church played its dominant role. In my more naive moments, I often wonder that over thousands of years, it has not been twigged yet that the thousands of disputes between disparate religious groups may be due to the groups being headed up by disparate individuals with their own aloof ideas of what religion is all about or their own hidden agendas - hey that's my naive view.

Cheese Warehouses

    We headed up Matthijs Tinxgracht, passing the gatehouse to a former Protestant orphanage, the Weeshuis. Today it houses a few offices.
    We strolled along the tree-lined stretch of water up to the Grote Kerk or St. Nicolaaskerk, named after the patron saint of seafarers, merchants and children; Edam was full of seafarers and merchants. This enormous church was of cathedral dimensions and totally dominated the northern end of the town. Its size is explained by the fact that when the town's economy was booming as trade increased, the church was intended to represent Edam's affluence and riches. It is thought to have been founded at the beginning of the 15th century, and suffered two extensive fires in 1602 and 1699, both of which had apparently been caused by lightning strikes on the tower. As a consequence, when the church was rebuilt the height of the tower was purposely reduced.
     We entered this grand building below the tower, and found ourselves in a vast, light, airy space, beautifully lit by light flooding through the tall, stained glass windows, all donated after the fire of 1602. The majority were gifts from neighbouring towns, others presented by flourishing guilds in Edam, such as the guild of ship's carpenters. Since the church was built on piles driven into sand, the architects were anxious to keep the weight to a minimum. For this reason, what appeared to be a stone vaulted ceiling was actually a wooden copy. The huge organ was constructed by Barend Smit from Hoorn in 1663.
    As we meandered around this magnificent church, we started to take notice of the large slabs under our feet. These were actually gravestones, many of them covered in a form of hieroglyphic. These marks were those of the stone masons; education was not widespread when these were created and these marks were effectively their signatures.

Hotel "De Fortuna"

    On the southern side of the church beside the former entrance stood an annex called the Library. Originally it was probably used as a vestry, with the library on the floor above. Later it became the Latin School.
    Outside the church lay the church yard peppered with well-kept gravestones. Many of the stones contained carvings or etchings giving not only the usual details of the deceased that can be found on British gravestones, but also a glimmer of the life of that person; an occupation or a hobby for example. One gravestone had a saw and hammer carved onto it indicating that the man who had died had been a carpenter. Another etching showed that the man who had died at the age of 40 had been a speed skater. Another person had been a drummer, and next to him the person had been a pilot. I had never come across such epitaphs before.

Early Semi-Detached Houses

    After taking a sweeping view of the polder north of the church, we turned back towards town, and walked down Nieuwvaartje. This canal was dug in 1566 so that the ships carrying the cheese could easily reach the market from the Zeevang polder. Here, along Nieuwvaartje and along Groenland on the other side, there we many town farms, recognisable by their domed shapes. The pyramid shapes were created by the hay-barn: the high, square central part of the farm. The farmers who dwelt here owned land in the Zeevang polder and every spring, until quite recently, they would transport their cattle by boat from their farms to the meadows in the polder. In 1940, there were still seventeen farms in this street and on the other side.
    My eye was caught by a frieze on the facade on No. 8, a brightly painted carving that revealed a short poem with small figures carved in relief. In the poem, a mermaid, caught by chance on a fishing trip, makes some erotic innuendoes which end in a conversation between a merman, with a bow and arrow, and a mermaid, with a wreath. The wooden carving's captions tell us that the world, the spirit of the nation and women are inscrutable riddles.
    In Achterhaven we stopped off at the bakery for a welcome coffee and savoury pie. Next door, on the corner, stood the Oldest Wooden House in Edam. The lintel above the door with its decoration of late gothic accolade and rosettes indicated that the building dated from around 1530, and its almost total wooden construction with virtually original facade made this a rare example of gothic wooden architecture in the Netherlands.
    We recrossed the Dam and took a stroll down the long, tree-lined Voorhaven to look at the old 18th century cheese warehouses. These lovingly restored buildings with their bell gables were also in Louis XIV style. As mentioned earlier, no cheese is made in Edam anymore.
    Passing through yet more cobbled lanes, our vista opened out to another waterway, the Nieuwehaven. A stretch of wasteland on the opposite bank betrayed where an industrial area once resided. A hotchpotch of yachts and large, old, wooden, flat-bottomed working boats were moored cheek by jowl. The old boats with a large open working area were Botters - fishing boats. The enclosed boats, Tjalks, were once cargo barges. Like the houses, these were all owned and had been lovingly restored by private enthusiasts. Some have found a second life as charter boats.
    Walking west along the Nieuwehaven, we came across the Hotel "De Fortuna" by the Constabelbrug. Two picturesque buildings stood here by the water's edge, completely rebuilt, using, amongst other things, views from picture postcards to reproduce copies of the small private school and wooden shed which formerly stood there.

Carillon

    Crossing the Constabelbrug to the Bult (bump), we turned left into the Doelland, and stopped in front of the "twin" gables of No. 3 & 5. These 17th century step gables were not only given this name because of their identical shape, but also because the houses share one internal wooden framework, the beams crossing right through the dividing wall. This is an early example of semi-detached houses. It should be borne in mind that in those days, building materials were more expensive than labour.
    Around the corner from the Doelland stands the well-known Kwakel Bridge spanning a stretch of water called "Boeren verdriet" (Farmers' Lament - because their barges often got stuck here). Strolling down the south side of this waterway along Schepenmakersdijk (Shipbuilders dyke) a little way, we gazed across to a stunning view over the canal to the other bank, with the Carillon poking its head up beyond. We were looking at the attractive gardens of Mayors' houses where two summer tea houses stood at the water's edge under shady beech trees. the tea house nearest the Kwakel bridge apparently had a marvellous Louis XVI interior and was even equipped with a fire place for keeping it warm. The Mayors' houses, together with a modern, blended building, are now the property of the Hoogheemraadschap Hollands Noorderkwartier, just like the beautiful complex further up the Schepenmakersdijk. This legislative body has been controlling the water levels of North Holland for more than 400 years.
    We made our way across to Kapsteeg where the Carillon proudly saluted the heavens. There are records of a Church, formerly called the Church of Our Dear Lady, on this site since 1350, and the tower itself dates from the 15th and 16th centuries. The nave was demolished in 1882, but the slender late Gothic Carillon Tower still provides Edam with a distinctive landmark. The famous bells, protruding from the open lantern, were made in 1566 by Pieter van den Ghein. The bells play out a short melody every quarter of an hour, and on special occasions an organist climbs the tower to play the bells manually for an hour, using the keyboard of wooden pegs. The tower did threaten to fall in 1972, but fortunately it was shored up and then completely restored.
    By this time we were completely gabled out, so we returned to the Dam and drank coffee opposite the Town Hall. The skies definitely had the promise of rain by this time, so we decided to skip a whistle-stop tour of nearby Volendam, and returned to Hoorn. This was probably the wisest thing to do, the heavens opened as soon as we reached the boat.
    In the evening we met up with Meryl at the train station. It was good to have her back on the team again, and Rex was clearly over the moon with her return. The poor lass had suffered a bad cold whilst back in Tollesbury, and here she was arriving in Hoorn in a down pour, accompanied by a strong wind. We wined and dined her and caught up with the news from Blighty.