Netherlands Trip - Vlieland      15th June:

    After a restless night, when I must have laid awake from the crack of dawn, I arose before Rex who normally rises at 6am. The sky was blue, and the chill of the night was starting to wear off.
    After a shower and quick coffee, we walked down the length of Zoutsloot to the ferry terminal and caught the 9am ferry to Vlieland. We thought this island would be fairly quiet and more suited to Rex's delicate back than the neighbouring Terschelling which would be heaving with folk attending the Oerol.
    As our ferry departed, I bought Rex, a lady sitting next to us, and myself a coffee each. The cups were of the take-away variety with snap on lids. I was standing by a guard rail as we slipped out of the harbour, sipping my coffee, when I felt a warm feeling down my front. To my dismay my lid had unsnapped itself, and I was obliviously pouring hot coffee down myself. I yelped, and Rex and the lady were in fits of laughter. Totally embarrassed, I made my way to the toilets, took off my top and washed it in a sink. Then, after rinsing it as dry as I could, I inserted it into a Dyson air-blade hand dryer, and spent a few minutes moving it up and down. In no time at all it was clean and dry, ready to be put on. Amazingly nobody entered the gents while I was doing all this.
    We were now sailing up a narrow, twisting channel, sharing it with umpteen trawlers, barges and yachts. Gradually Harlingen faded into the mist and Vlieland and Terschelling loomed ahead. Vast sand banks slid by, treacherous under adverse conditions; sunbathing seals along the fringes jealously guarding their territory. Crossing through convoluted channels over the Waddenzee, we were afforded a first-hand view of the route we would need to take to get across to the gat between Vlieland and Terschelling before breaking out into the German Bight. The journey took us 105 minutes over the 28 km as the crow flies.
    We glided past the marina at the north-western end of Vlieland, and soon we were pivoting about a large section of piling as the ferry reversed into the ferry terminal - it was a very impressive piece of "parking". We alighted with hundreds of others, many laden with creaking backpacks and tents intending to camp at one of the hundreds of sites on the island. Pelotons of other folk immediately hired bikes and set off to tour the island.

Dorpsstraat

    Rex and I spotted a VVV, and after purchasing a map, the lady at the desk explained we could take a guided bus tour later in the day; tickets could be obtained at the Primera shop. Not wishing to be late for booking, we walked down Dorpsstraat, the main street, and homed in on the shop. The young woman there was most helpful, "The earliest you can get a tour is Saturday," she advised. Just our luck.
    Vlieland is one of the West Frisian Islands, lying in the Waddenzee. It is named after the Vlie, the seaway between it and Terschelling that was the estuary of the river IJssel in medieval times. It is the second island from the west in the chain, lying between Texel and Terschelling. The island was permanently separated from the mainland in St. Lucia's flood in 1287. The northern part of the island of Texel, Eierland, was once the southwestern part of Vlieland. A storm surge in 1296 probably separated Eierland from Vlieland. Erosion further diminished the size of Vlieland from the west, leading in 1736 to the disappearance of a second village on Vlieland, West-Vlieland, leaving Oost-Vlieland as the only remaining establishment on the island.
    The island is around 12 km in length and no more than 2 km in width, of which the largest part is a desert-like area in the west, the Vliehors. The island is largely forested, and is an island of dunes, the most prominent being the eye-catching Vuurboetsduin. This is a forty-metre high dune with a red lighthouse on top.
    The island, which is regarded as the most remote from the mainland, has a population of approximately 1100 people and is well known for the beautiful landscape, the large and various bird population and the peacefulness. In summer, many tourists come to visit the island, fortunately none of them are allowed to bring vehicles across to the island.
    Until 1942 Vlieland, like Terschelling, was part of the province of North Holland. During the Second World War, Vlieland became part of the German Atlantic Wall. The Germans built two anti-aircraft batteries and stationed more soldiers on the island than there were inhabitants. They also repartitioned the island to Friesland and the situation was not reversed after the war.
    But, back to the "now", we soon got over our disappointment regarding the bus tour, and instead we took a leisurely stroll down the attractive Dorpsstraat, lined with brick built buildings dating from the 17th century; some residential, but many containing shops, bars, cafes and restaurants. The street was buzzing with walkers, and cyclists streamed up and down. Cafes, bars and restaurants spilled out onto the pavements, many already filling up with folk just off the ferry. It really was a delightful setting.

Graves Behind the Church

    We stumbled across the Kerkplein, a most attractive square apart from a couple of out of place 60's built houses. Pride of place in the square was the church of course.
    The first stone church in West-Vlieland originated from the Middle Ages and was dedicated to Saint Willibrordus. In the smaller Oost-Vlieland there was a chapel dedicated to Saint Nicolaas, the patron saint of the merchants and the seafarers. This chapel was first mentioned in 1245. In the late Middle Ages the chapel was elevated to parish church. After the reformation, the church was in the hands of the Protestants. Since West-Vlieland was threatened by the sea at the beginning of the 17th century, many people moved to Oost-Vlieland, which meant that the church soon became too small.
    The reformed church in Oost-Vlieland is one of the oldest original Protestant church buildings in the Netherlands. The church was built in 1605 as a church hall. Partly constructed from stones taken from the chapel which was broken down to make way for the new church, it also includes 200,000 yellow bricks supplied from Enkhuizen. In 1647 a north and south beacon was built. This gave the building the current cross shape. In the front façade the year 1647 is clearly visible. A chandelier in the church was donated in 1660 by admiral Michiel de Ruyter. He had received this from the Swedish government. De Ruyter often came to Vlieland where he had his second house and came to the church regularly. Unfortunately the church was closed today.
    Behind the church is the graveyard, with some of its gravestones constructed from whale ribs. Behind, in a separate section, lay a plot belonging to the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. Here graves of men as young as 19 who had served in the Royal Air Force and Royal Navy stood. It was saddening to see reminders of a young generation that was decimated during the second World War.
    We left the Kerkplein and followed a road and path that took us through swathes of wild flowers and a veritable forest of dog-rose emitting heady scents, up to the lighthouse on top of the Vuurboetsduin. A young chap came bounding down the path, and stopped as he reached us.
    "You must be English," he announced.
    "How did you work that out?" we asked in astonishment.
    "You were walking on the left hand side of the path," he grinned.
    "In Holland, if you walk along the road, you should walk on the left hand side," I replied. He laughed out loud, and we bade our farewells as he continued to bound down the hill. We were none the wiser about the Dutch walking etiquette.

Vuurtoren Artwork

    Soon we were high up on the dune, and we could see the other side of the island. Below us grass covered dunes stretched away, populated by a herd of goats and peppered with artesian wells. In the distance a forest stretched with half hidden houses peeping out between the trees.
    A long seat in front of the lighthouse afforded us an excellent view along the eastern coast of the island and the Waddenzee. As we headed down a different route, we came across a pair of wooden, nine-sided conical shapes in the dunes, part of an artistic creation.

Quirky Gardens

    Once back down on the lower levels, we headed back into Oost-Vlieland, passing an old chap who was creosoting some timber for his family. The fence of the property was covered in hard hats. "My son walks along the beaches, and these are often washed up," he stated.
    After a light lunch, we went into the Tromp's Huys Museum in Dorpsstraat. Built in 1575, the house was purchased in 1896 by the Norwegian-born Betzy Akersloot-Berg (1850-1922) and her Dutch husband Gooswinus Gerardus Akersloot (1843-1929). She named it 'Tromp's Huys' as a tribute to the Dutch admiral Cornelis Tromp, who had served the Norwegian king well, and they settled here for the rest of their lives. Betzy Akersloot-Berg ran regular sewing workshops for local girls. However, although Tromp's Huys became an important domestic centre for the couple, Betzy continued to travel throughout Europe every summer, showing her work at major exhibitions.
    Trained in Oslo, Munich and The Hague, and playing an active role in the contemporary artistic community, Betzy produced some 300 paintings throughout her career. The majority are now kept at Tromp's Huys, which opened as a museum in 1950. The house is owned by Vereniging Hendrick de Keyser, an organisation dedicated to maintaining valuable historic buildings in the Netherlands.
    Besides a large art collection, the basement gave an excellent overview of the history of the island. A collection of videos of Vlielanders being interviewed ran continuously, in Dutch of course, and a silent movie of Vlieland in the 1930s was on display too. The museum was not big, but it held our interest for quite a while.

Interior of Tromp's Huys Museum, with a Model of Admiral Michiel Adriaansz de Ruyter's Flagship, the "Zeven Provincien"

    With a short time to spare, we walked all the way up to the marina. It was crowded with yachts, mainly Dutch and German with a couple of Belgian craft. Several tall ships were moored at the far end. On reaching the entrance to the marina, it became apparent to us how strong the current was flowing past the entrance due to the ebbing tide, and a wind had picked up too. We watched a yacht enter, then a tall ship. The latter needed to overshoot the entrance, then as he spun the vessel around to point up the narrow channel into the marina, its bow drifted with wind and current to line up perfectly for the full pelt dash into the marina. A stream of other craft were in hot pursuit.

Distant Strange Waddenzee Structure

    We hiked back to the ferry terminal as quick as Rex's back would allow, and boarded the ferry. Similar to the first crossing, the vessel left punctually and arrived back in Harlingen on time too. The Dutch are good at that.
    We dined by the Noorderhaven in the evening - slightly pricey but excellent food. A rather odd English couple with a dog came into the outside eating area where we were, sat down and ordered drinks. We had a chat with them later, the older man hardly spoke but just smiled a sickly smile, and the much younger woman did all the talking. We discovered that they had sailed from Lowestoft, and had been on the move for months.
    While we enjoyed our meal, we discussed Rex's back. The spasmodic pains, when they occurred, almost brought him to his knees. In my mind the doubts were already setting in that continuing to Denmark would be out of the question. To Rex, such ideas made him writhe as much as the spasms did. I did my utmost to console him, and explained that it is the journey that counts rather than the destination, but still, he was understandingly rather distraught.