I’ve dreamed of going Holland since I was a little girl and I read books by Corrie ten Boom, listened to the Pineapple Series and adored God’s Smuggler
. I was sucked into a world of dikes, tulips, national pride, long runs and rainy days.
When we left Germany
, we drove to the Netherlands (which I’m going to refer to as Holland)
and spent several wonderful (although horribly tired) days there. There’s a guy we know who lives in Holland (Dad knew his family really well back when this guy was a kid) so we got to spend a lot of time hanging out with him and his family. Not only was it great to be around people who spoke English and
the national language, it was also pretty fun because they had English accents which we all loved.
Me in regular American English: “Um, do you mind if we repeat everything you say?”
Girl in strong British/Dutch accent: “Not at all!”
All of us in mimicking accent: “Not at all!”
Yep. That’s pretty much how we spent our days there, touring around, mimicking, drinking coffee with cute little stirring spoons, getting lost, staying in delightful campers… Going to second-hand stores, petting their dog (you can’t imagine how much I loved having an animal around again), playing games, talking about a wide variety of things, and reading The Hiding Place
and God’s Smuggler…
We got to go to the Beje see here and here and then proceeded to drive to Amsterdam where we succeeded in getting extremely lost and separated and quite freaked out (Amsterdam isn’t the best place to get lost…). The wind was the strongest I’ve felt it in a long time and we stood outside, clutching our jackets to us for over an hour while waiting so we could tour the building where Anne Frank and seven other people hid during WW2. Touring the Anne Frank building was very sobering and made me wish everyone studied history and learned from it.
On the same day we went to the Beje and Anne Frank house, we also went and explored a windmill. It was cold, rainy and very gray that day. The first glimpse I had of a windmill actually startled me. It was big and dark and scary looking. Thankfully, it was less intimidating once we got close to it.
I hadn’t realized that whole families used to live in windmills. A family with thirteen children lived in this particular one about a hundred years ago. I would love to have a book that takes place in a windmill some day.
Holland was a mixture of friends, driving, grayness, reading, dreams come true, cookies, walking, rain, good food, lots of memories and late nights.
What about you? Have you ever been to Holland? Have you ever wanted to go?