I became infatuated with the Netherlands in the seventies. Its geography and the human interaction were so different to what I had grown up with that I really enjoyed my new way of life.
I'm very happy to relate that its attraciion is still there. It has been on display, big time, during our recent visit to Amsterdam.
The country is stil buzzing in its own particular fashion. The daily chaos of bikes, scooters, cars, trams etc plus pedestrians somehow still survives. And then its party time.
"Orange dag" is a national holiday, which closes every shop but allows bars and cafes to remain open. Public transport is garaged and roads become public walkways. Oh and in the spirit of good old "Holland" wearing " orange " is a must. So hats, t-shirts, moustaches, wigs, socks, indeed anything orange is on display.
"Koningsdag or King's Day" is the proper name in the Kingdom of the Netherlands for this national holiday. It is celebrated on April 27th to mark the birthday of the King. Up until 2013, when Queen Beatrix abdicated and was succeeded by her son Willem-Alexander, the "Konginnedag /Queens" birthday was on April 30th. We of course joined Grandmother Queen Juliana's national celebrations in the seventies.
This year young Willem-Alexander is partying in Groningen. The party venue is moved around each year to give his country folk a chance to meet and greet the king.
We strolled, along with hundreds / thousands of other folk across the Centuurbaan and through to the Sarphathipark to find nearly every blade of grass covered with pieces of household junk that the "locals" had dug out of their homes and had decided to "sell." Other "Blankets" offerred games, skittles, bananna catching, puppet shows or simply something to eat, eg "krentebollen,stroopwaffels etc." Bedlam ruled and everyone was having fun. What a marvellous sight it all was.
We drifted onwards through the Park, simply enjoying being members of this happy, joyful human race. Our goal was the Prinsengracht. Here we find both sides of the canal stocked with orange clad humans of all shapes and sizes. The bridges were also fully loaded.
Within 10 minutes the canal was full of boats,all of which were fully loaded with noisy young and old folk. The "orange" swell brought with it all types of music, good bad and downright loud. Beer flowed on board every vessel and some was even "thrown" to " bridge bound" friends. I saw 2 cans miss their targets and fall back to the canal waters. It soon became obvious that six-packs were not alone. Folks on dry land carried their own crates. A young fellow took pity on two old folks. He saw our envy, handing me and another bloke a can of Heineken. "Bedank jongen."
The floaters seem to continue forever, skillfully negotiating the sausage shaped " Dragon fenders" which lay alongside, providing protection for the moored houseboats. The music got louder as three boats tried simultanously to sail side by side through under the bridge. Luckily no one was dumped. The canal was full as far as my view point allowed. The procession had started in the Nordzee canal and was sailing a 6/7 kilometre semi circle through the suburbs back to the main shipping canal. The festive mood continued with everyone simply enjoying the "happening." And so was I.
"Hup Holland Hup"
