Towns and Nature

A drive through my favourite part of the country

A bright, warm and sunny July day, and a long and interesting drive home from Drenthe through Friesland, and Overijssel, provinces with a splendid variety of nature, attractive historic towns, woodland and moorland, reed lands and farmland, bogs and meadows, lakes and canals. 

 

 

In the past many parts of Drenthe were cultivated for farmland, mainly agriculture, the poor sandy soil perfect for growing potatoes. The farms were small, the farmers poor, and it was hard work. Woods were planted to supply the many unemployed labourers with work. I love those woods. Trees provide shade when it is hot in summer and offer protection against storms and heavy rains. It is so different from the beaches on the coast where there is no shelter from the glaring sun, no protection against storms and thunderstorms. A moderate clime, but harsh and unrelenting. How I hated the beach as a child, suffering from sunburn and headaches, from blistering skin when they did not know much yet about sun protection let alone sunscreens. No tan for me but sunburn. So, I cherish the trees and the woods.

 

 

To my dismay nature gurus have now decided that we should go back to former times, to “original” nature whatever that is. Woods are chopped down, trees uprooted so that sand dunes can be created. The big trees offering a shady resting place have gone. Instead there is this blistering white sand, with no protection against the glaring sun, no coolness after a hot bike ride. Farms are bought by the authorities, turned into information centres about the new-old nature, or into cafes and ecological farm shops, bio being the mantra nowadays.  But I am sad when I see “my” woods disappear, woods where I cycled, enjoyed the freshness, the rustling leaves, the smells of all the various trees, the resins of the pine trees molten by the heat, the perfume of a blossoming linden tree, rare in those woods though.

It is not all misery though. Dull, flat potato fields are turned into wild heaths, moorland with a rich variety of reeds and flowering plants. The land attracts insects, butterflies, and so birds. Small rivers and brooks which were straightened out in the past are now meandering again and can follow a more natural course. Cycle tracks and footpaths make it a joy to spend a day out here in this recreated nature. Sheep graze here, and rare breeds of cows.

 

 

After this trip through interesting and new national parklands, broken by many photo stops and stops to smell the sun scorched land, I drive along the border of the old and the new land, the new land being the land reclaimed from what once was the Zuiderzee, the old land seamed with quaint towns which used to border the former sea and used to do a roaring trade with Hanseatic cities or as fishing ports. They are walled, moated and often gated. I stop in Blokzijl, its harbour now used by pleasure boats. The walls still bare canons, no longer needed for its defence. The sea was usually the best protection against enemy attacks, if any. The town is small but very attractive, with busy restaurants and street cafes around the harbour. People sit out with their drinks, or stand on the quay of the canal watching the boats going through several locks, from one canal and lake to the other, straight through this town. Near this lock is a famous restaurant, too expensive for most mortals. 

Blown by the wind. Could also be somebody with a big ego...

 One of the many picturesque houses. Street are not straight but bent around the church or the market place as the case may be.

A popular attraction is the activity in the locks, a never boring spectacle. Ships passing through have to pay a fee, which in many places is still collected by lowering a wooden shoe attached to a piece of rope down to the decks of the yachts and other boats. I did not notice if that is still the practice here. Instead I wound my way through the picturesque and narrow streets, admiring gables and gable stones, and the red bricks in the afternoon sun, the hollyhocks in front of the brightly painted windows, the footpath in the shade of the tree lined walls surrounding the harbour.

One of the locks

Water everywhere

But it was time to go and to step out of this fairy-tale of warm, sunny, unspoilt towns, of happy people leisurely enjoying a day off, however much I would have liked to wind my way through a few more of those towns. But I had to wait till some other time, as duty called.

 

 

 

But I had had a glimpse again of many things I love and hold dear.