Fryslân
The coastal province at the North edge of the Netherlands.
As well as Dutch, Fryslân has a second official language, Frysk (West Frisian), which is spoken as a first language by more than half of its inhabitants, though they can usually also cope with regular Dutch. In Frysk, the province is called Fryslân. In Dutch and English, it is called Friesland. The pronunciation is almost identical (and no, it doesn't sound like "fries land" - it's more like "freese lahn").
A kite welcomes us to Fryslân. I was also lucky enough to see a large white speckled owl (I think), and an osprey, but not fast enough to photograph either of them.
The final dike, protecting Fryslân from the sea.
Wierum, a town on the coast. Swimming is not permitted here, so it doesn't get any of that seaside traffic.
This looks like a breakwater, but I suspect it is just a field marker.
Across the Wadden Sea are the West Frisian Islands.
Giant thermometer, checking the health of the sea. Yeah.
Colours of the water's edge.
Driftwood.
One ...
... two ...
Sluices holding back the tide on Lauwersmeer.
Stupid signs for confusing foreigners. No cars on this road! You can still park on it though, OK?
House martin with two chicks, as we hop temporarily into Groningen, then quickly return to Fryslân.
That's not a dirty lens, it's just an endless flock of sea birds stretching for miles and miles along the coast, somehow managing to fly around each other in such numbers without any collisions.
... three ...
... four windmills later, and we find ...
... a lovely secluded campsite, with just two other pitches, right beside a golden barley field.
Tidal fields on the Wadden Sea. This is what much of Fryslân and Holland used to be like, until the dikes appeared in about 1200 to keep them dry - or drier at least.
Crossing the Wadden Sea (Waddenzee in Dutch). This is a narrow sea channel extending from the Netherlands to Denmark, separated from the North Sea by the chain of glacial Frisian Islands. The channel is extremely shallow, and becomes very extensive mud flats at low tide, protected as a national park all the way to Denmark. The ferry route follows a strange curved path to ensure it keeps to the deep-water channels.
Sailing the Wadden Sea ... er ... without sails. Shhh.
The coast of Ameland. Ameland is an island where cars are allowed, but most people (including ourselves) use bikes. The island is 2 windmills long; that's about 27 KM in old money.
Ameland harbour. The sticks signify the low tide grounding limit.
If you like wading birds, this is the perfect place. By far the most common seems to be the oystercatcher.
The sea dike on Ameland, protecting what precious little remains of the agricultural land on the south side of the island.
From here until we leave the island, we use bikes. For more details of the cycling route, see the route description.
Oystercatchers.
Spot the wild rooster.
The outer coast of the islands, unlike the majority of the Netherlands, actually has some vertical relief. Not soil, but sand dunes, washed onto the glacial debris. This part is a nature reserve (but still used for grazing), which the Netherlands guidebook uses to proudly call these islands one of Europe's last areas of wilderness. I guess their definition of wilderness differs completely with mine. And most other people's, in fact. Ever hear of Tatry, Snowdonia, Alps, Jotunheimen, etc. ? Perhaps they need to visit a country with real national parks.
Friesian cows in Fryslân, their place of origin, where they were selectively bred to produce this most popular dairy cow.
Lapwing, a very common bird in the Netherlands, but usually too shy to allow me to get close enough to get a good picture. This was my best, and it will have to do.
Wild horses on the islands. These powerful black animals are often domesticated, and can be seen standing in circular herds in random fields, like they are plotting their escape - quite different behaviour to the normal domesticated horses that I am used to.
Kestrel hunting. The islands are home to a very large number of these small but beautiful birds, typically about two will be visible hovering for every KM of island.
Coastal beach and dunes. These beaches are very popular, though not insanely overcrowded, I just got a lucky shot facing away from all the humans.
Walking on water. The sand does not descend steadily. Instead it rises into several banks as it heads out from the coast, producing areas of very shallow water a long way out from the shore. The water in between can be quite deep - neck deep in the section seen here.
Jellyfish.
Fishnets.
Hermit crab.
This one looks like someone painted it.
One of the two windmills on the island (in Nes), and the only one we would see.
Shutters, along with the common technique on old buildings (or copycat wannabe new buildings) to show the date of the building's manufacture.
An older tower.
An even older house.
Watch out, they kick you in ...
Whale jaw. Time to hand our bikes back, and return to the mainland.
Balloon over Hegebeintum.
Walking into the sunset.
Pallets.
The next day, we use bikes to follow the Terpelân Route. For more details of the cycling route, see the route description.
The purpose is to see Terps, structures that predate dikes by nearly 2000 years. This one is at Hegebeintum, and comes complete with a small museum on the subject.
It is one windmill away from where we were staying, near Ferwert.
Originally, a house would be built on a small layer of mud, to keep it above the high tide mark. After each flood, it would be raised. This progressed to Terps, where a mound big enough to support an entire village would be built. Typically these were 2-7 metres high, with Hegebeintum being the highest, at 9 metres. The entire area seen in this photo would originally have been part of the terp, not a lowland area.
In the early 1900s, it was realised that the soil inside the terps was extremely fertile, having had many centuries of human waste piled into it. So almost all terps were destroyed and dug up to be used for fertiliser. Some were later kept in whatever state they had reached, for their historic value.
The terp was started in 600 BC, making it one of the oldest surviving man-made structures in the Netherlands, and by 600 AD, a town was well established here. This church was built in 1120, making it one of the oldest buildings in the Netherlands (Dordrecht has an older building, started in 1077). The tower was added, badly, in 1700, causing subsidence problems, especially when the terp was being harvested.
Organ.
Aristocratic memorials dating back as much as 320 years.
Carved grave coverings.
A timer used to remind the preacher that his sermon had lasted too long, and he should now shut up. What a great idea.
Very old frescos obscured by the memorials.
One windmill away is ...
... the terp of Ginnum.
Another windmill away is ...
... the terp of Raard.
This village has a lot to say about the character of its villagers.
Windmills and cantilever bridge in Dokkum. The distant windmill is yet another De Hoop; The Hope.
Ornate keystone.
Just so you know, navels is the same word in English, Dutch, and West Frisian.
Damer in harm's way.
Dokkum canal.
Back canal.
Back alley.
Staircase for lazy ducks. Ever hear of 'wings'?
Bridges.
Bell tower.
The bells. The bells.
Holiday barge (see the bikes on the front).
Reindeer stags.
Now one windmill outside of Dokkum.
Remains of a windmill. Not a traditional one, though. Not to be counted.
The very impressive windmill in Burdaard. This example is a sawmill, and has self regulating shutters on the vanes (a design pioneered in Norfolk, England) to allow it to maintain speed in variable wind conditions, without needing manual changes.
Seems it's a long way back via this route.
That would be cheating.
Can't make names like this up.
You'll never guess what; another terp.
And windmill, of course. That was a long bike ride - 9 windmills. But this is Fryslân.
Beautiful sunset. Like an artist's interpretation of itself.
One ...
... two ...
... three ...
... four ...
No cheating now.
... five ...
... six windmills later, we arrive in ...
... Hindeloopen. It has different names in 3 dialects, and I am not sure which is "right" to use for the majority of its inhabitants. If I chose the wrong one, sorry, but it's too late to change now.
Boats preparing for flood water levels. Not.
Roof.
Door to nowhere.
Birdhouses. Of course, the windmill is the most impressive, given that there is no back door to allow the birds to avoid the moving blades. Note also the name "Holland". Funny, given that this is Fryslân.
Red. With dogs.
A shop selling hand painted furniture in traditional style.
Expensive furniture.
Wardrobe.
Ducks fighting over a drifting piece of weed.
Sailing ships.
Part of a convoy stretching as far as we could see along the IJsselmeer, a vast man-made lake, formed by damming a branch of the Wadden Sea known as the Zuiderzee.
Pediment.
Forest of masts.
Cantilever bridge and lock-keeper's house.
Lock mechanism.
Locks.
One ...
... two ...
... three ...
Another forest of turbines.
.. four windmills later (a grand total of 24 in Fryslân alone), we arrive at ...
... the sluices of the Afsluitdijk.
Afsluitdijk is about 15 miles long (20 if you include the extra parts over land at the ends), separating the Zuiderzee from the Wadden Sea, and converting it into the IJsselmeer as recently as 1932. The Houtribdijk was later built further upstream, splitting the lake in two, with the further part called Markermeer. The intention was to allow large parts of the Zuiderzee to be drained and used as land, but so far only the province of Flevoland has been created from it between 1941 and 1986, leaving these immense lakes.
Afsluitdijk is ridiculously big. It is home to a motorway with services, a bike path, a town, a caravan park, several harbours, and a monument.
The final set of sluices mean that we have now entered North Holland.
A kite welcomes us to Fryslân. I was also lucky enough to see a large white speckled owl (I think), and an osprey, but not fast enough to photograph either of them.
The final dike, protecting Fryslân from the sea.
Wierum, a town on the coast. Swimming is not permitted here, so it doesn't get any of that seaside traffic.
This looks like a breakwater, but I suspect it is just a field marker.
Across the Wadden Sea are the West Frisian Islands.
Giant thermometer, checking the health of the sea. Yeah.
Colours of the water's edge.
Driftwood.
One ...
... two ...
Sluices holding back the tide on Lauwersmeer.
Stupid signs for confusing foreigners. No cars on this road! You can still park on it though, OK?
House martin with two chicks, as we hop temporarily into Groningen, then quickly return to Fryslân.
That's not a dirty lens, it's just an endless flock of sea birds stretching for miles and miles along the coast, somehow managing to fly around each other in such numbers without any collisions.
... three ...
... four windmills later, and we find ...
... a lovely secluded campsite, with just two other pitches, right beside a golden barley field.
Tidal fields on the Wadden Sea. This is what much of Fryslân and Holland used to be like, until the dikes appeared in about 1200 to keep them dry - or drier at least.
Crossing the Wadden Sea (Waddenzee in Dutch). This is a narrow sea channel extending from the Netherlands to Denmark, separated from the North Sea by the chain of glacial Frisian Islands. The channel is extremely shallow, and becomes very extensive mud flats at low tide, protected as a national park all the way to Denmark. The ferry route follows a strange curved path to ensure it keeps to the deep-water channels.
Sailing the Wadden Sea ... er ... without sails. Shhh.
The coast of Ameland. Ameland is an island where cars are allowed, but most people (including ourselves) use bikes. The island is 2 windmills long; that's about 27 KM in old money.
Ameland harbour. The sticks signify the low tide grounding limit.
If you like wading birds, this is the perfect place. By far the most common seems to be the oystercatcher.
The sea dike on Ameland, protecting what precious little remains of the agricultural land on the south side of the island.
Oystercatchers.
Spot the wild rooster.
The outer coast of the islands, unlike the majority of the Netherlands, actually has some vertical relief. Not soil, but sand dunes, washed onto the glacial debris. This part is a nature reserve (but still used for grazing), which the Netherlands guidebook uses to proudly call these islands one of Europe's last areas of wilderness. I guess their definition of wilderness differs completely with mine. And most other people's, in fact. Ever hear of Tatry, Snowdonia, Alps, Jotunheimen, etc. ? Perhaps they need to visit a country with real national parks.
Friesian cows in Fryslân, their place of origin, where they were selectively bred to produce this most popular dairy cow.
Lapwing, a very common bird in the Netherlands, but usually too shy to allow me to get close enough to get a good picture. This was my best, and it will have to do.
Wild horses on the islands. These powerful black animals are often domesticated, and can be seen standing in circular herds in random fields, like they are plotting their escape - quite different behaviour to the normal domesticated horses that I am used to.
Kestrel hunting. The islands are home to a very large number of these small but beautiful birds, typically about two will be visible hovering for every KM of island.
Coastal beach and dunes. These beaches are very popular, though not insanely overcrowded, I just got a lucky shot facing away from all the humans.
Walking on water. The sand does not descend steadily. Instead it rises into several banks as it heads out from the coast, producing areas of very shallow water a long way out from the shore. The water in between can be quite deep - neck deep in the section seen here.
Jellyfish.
Fishnets.
Hermit crab.
This one looks like someone painted it.
One of the two windmills on the island (in Nes), and the only one we would see.
Shutters, along with the common technique on old buildings (or copycat wannabe new buildings) to show the date of the building's manufacture.
An older tower.
An even older house.
Watch out, they kick you in ...
Whale jaw. Time to hand our bikes back, and return to the mainland.
Balloon over Hegebeintum.
Walking into the sunset.
Pallets.
The purpose is to see Terps, structures that predate dikes by nearly 2000 years. This one is at Hegebeintum, and comes complete with a small museum on the subject.
It is one windmill away from where we were staying, near Ferwert.
Originally, a house would be built on a small layer of mud, to keep it above the high tide mark. After each flood, it would be raised. This progressed to Terps, where a mound big enough to support an entire village would be built. Typically these were 2-7 metres high, with Hegebeintum being the highest, at 9 metres. The entire area seen in this photo would originally have been part of the terp, not a lowland area.
In the early 1900s, it was realised that the soil inside the terps was extremely fertile, having had many centuries of human waste piled into it. So almost all terps were destroyed and dug up to be used for fertiliser. Some were later kept in whatever state they had reached, for their historic value.
The terp was started in 600 BC, making it one of the oldest surviving man-made structures in the Netherlands, and by 600 AD, a town was well established here. This church was built in 1120, making it one of the oldest buildings in the Netherlands (Dordrecht has an older building, started in 1077). The tower was added, badly, in 1700, causing subsidence problems, especially when the terp was being harvested.
Organ.
Aristocratic memorials dating back as much as 320 years.
Carved grave coverings.
A timer used to remind the preacher that his sermon had lasted too long, and he should now shut up. What a great idea.
Very old frescos obscured by the memorials.
One windmill away is ...
... the terp of Ginnum.
Another windmill away is ...
... the terp of Raard.
This village has a lot to say about the character of its villagers.
Windmills and cantilever bridge in Dokkum. The distant windmill is yet another De Hoop; The Hope.
Ornate keystone.
Just so you know, navels is the same word in English, Dutch, and West Frisian.
Damer in harm's way.
Dokkum canal.
Back canal.
Back alley.
Staircase for lazy ducks. Ever hear of 'wings'?
Bridges.
Bell tower.
The bells. The bells.
Holiday barge (see the bikes on the front).
Reindeer stags.
Now one windmill outside of Dokkum.
Remains of a windmill. Not a traditional one, though. Not to be counted.
The very impressive windmill in Burdaard. This example is a sawmill, and has self regulating shutters on the vanes (a design pioneered in Norfolk, England) to allow it to maintain speed in variable wind conditions, without needing manual changes.
Seems it's a long way back via this route.
That would be cheating.
Can't make names like this up.
You'll never guess what; another terp.
And windmill, of course. That was a long bike ride - 9 windmills. But this is Fryslân.
Beautiful sunset. Like an artist's interpretation of itself.
One ...
... two ...
... three ...
... four ...
No cheating now.
... five ...
... six windmills later, we arrive in ...
... Hindeloopen. It has different names in 3 dialects, and I am not sure which is "right" to use for the majority of its inhabitants. If I chose the wrong one, sorry, but it's too late to change now.
Boats preparing for flood water levels. Not.
Roof.
Door to nowhere.
Birdhouses. Of course, the windmill is the most impressive, given that there is no back door to allow the birds to avoid the moving blades. Note also the name "Holland". Funny, given that this is Fryslân.
Red. With dogs.
A shop selling hand painted furniture in traditional style.
Expensive furniture.
Wardrobe.
Ducks fighting over a drifting piece of weed.
Sailing ships.
Part of a convoy stretching as far as we could see along the IJsselmeer, a vast man-made lake, formed by damming a branch of the Wadden Sea known as the Zuiderzee.
Pediment.
Forest of masts.
Cantilever bridge and lock-keeper's house.
Lock mechanism.
Locks.
One ...
... two ...
... three ...
Another forest of turbines.
.. four windmills later (a grand total of 24 in Fryslân alone), we arrive at ...
... the sluices of the Afsluitdijk.
Afsluitdijk is about 15 miles long (20 if you include the extra parts over land at the ends), separating the Zuiderzee from the Wadden Sea, and converting it into the IJsselmeer as recently as 1932. The Houtribdijk was later built further upstream, splitting the lake in two, with the further part called Markermeer. The intention was to allow large parts of the Zuiderzee to be drained and used as land, but so far only the province of Flevoland has been created from it between 1941 and 1986, leaving these immense lakes.
Afsluitdijk is ridiculously big. It is home to a motorway with services, a bike path, a town, a caravan park, several harbours, and a monument.
The final set of sluices mean that we have now entered North Holland.