Our annual holiday this year was a journey of discovery on the Dutch waterways. We had been invited by a group of friends who have known each other for many years and who share a passion for music, of the predominantly folk variety but with a generous helping of ‘anything goes’.
Having previously only met most of them once or twice, you could say it was a brave move to sign-up for a week on board a boat with six almost complete strangers. They were even more brave to invite us, of course.
Our boat was just one of four hired by the group, so we were 32 strong as we set sail from Le Boat base in Vinkeven. I use the term ‘sail’ loosely, as actually we didn’t have sails at all, just engines. And although we were on canals, these were not traditional barges (the canal craft I was accustomed to), but little cruisers, or ‘Tupperware’ as I had always called them.
It soon became clear that we were in for a fantastic holiday in great company. As the sound of folk tunes drifted across the water from other boats, and (apparently) our raucous laughter drifted back, I knew it was going to be a great week.
Despite a few setbacks along the way in the form of boat breakdowns, we managed to circumnavigate our way to Breukelen, Utrecht and on to the outskirts of Amsterdam and back via Veesp, along pretty little rural backwaters in the company of coots, and the canal equivalent of motorways alongside enormous tankers.
We all noted how beautifully clean and well-kept everywhere was. Every day was different and the gentle pace gave us plenty of time to take in the scenery. OK, it is very, very flat, an enormous contrast to home, but the pretty buildings, the riverboat homes, and of course, the wonderful windmills made us all fall a little bit in love with this watery world.
Then there are the bicycles. Everywhere. And so many bridges, often with amazing engineering technology. Invariably with absent lock/bridge keepers. Our capacity for arriving as they departed for lunch/tea/dentist/another job, was amazing. But the waiting was always a good time to make forays onto the other boats and to welcome other fleet mates aboard ours.
To say we ate and drank well goes without saying. Having visited Gouda (pronounced HHHHowda) we stocked up with cheese, and stroopwafels became a daily staple for most of the crew. We took it in turns to cook a meal for our own shipmates in the evenings and shared spoils and spirits with the other crews.
The music was amazing. Each evening we would descend on some Dutch bar and sing and play till we ran out of steam. That we were in the company of some massively talented people was very humbling. It was a great chance to dust off my song books too and share some of my favourites.
And the highlight? We spent a night at Oudewater, where in a moment of sheer serendipity we discovered on arrival that the harbourmaster was an accordian and bugle player. He opened up his boathouse for the evening, phoned all his musician chums to come over to join us, and we all had a truly magical evening, singing and playing, and enjoying the amazing acoustics of the strange, yet perfect setting. The following morning, as our four boats sailed out of the harbour, we heard his bugle sound out across the water as he played us on our way with a farewell post. It was, quite simply, perfect.
