We got up a little earlier than usual, showered, and were out the door by 7 am. Today we had plans to do some traveling around the country to see more than just Amsterdam. First stop was the train station, and we were able to use the (cheaper) e-tickets that we downloaded the previous night to get through the gates. We caught a “Sprinter” class train to take us out of town towards the much smaller town of Gouda. I wanted to visit Gouda because previously we had visited some cheese towns (Cheddar, Gruyeres) and it is fun to eat lots of cheese directly from the source.
The train wasn’t so crowded since we were traveling in the opposite direction of the commute. All the announcements were only in Dutch, but there was a video screen so we could figure out where we were. Once we got outside the city limits, the train passed more and more pastures. The farther we went the more sheep, cows, and windmills started to show up. The pastures were often divided by narrow waterways instead of fences, so if the animals felt brave enough to swim they could move on to greener pastures, I guess. About 45 minutes after leaving Amsterdam we got off the train at Gouda station. The timing here was important because I had read that there is a cheese market held every Thursday at 10 am, and it can get quite crowded. Originally I had considered sleeping overnight in Gouda before the market, but later I was glad that we didn’t.
The town of Gouda is built in kind of circle with a central church in the middle, similar to many European small towns. The train station is along the outer ring of the circle, and our destination was along the main street right in the center of town. Hanging above the main street were decorative plastic wheels of cheese – a little hint into what we were getting into. We reached the central square, and despite the threatening clouds there were some tents being set up and some food stands getting ready to serve, so we had come to right place. At the center of the square was the town church, and it was quite dramatically designed with an interesting castle-like structure, red and white painted window shutters, and some huge flags waving from one side. Surrounding the church was the town square with lots of touristy shops similar to what you’d find around the Sonoma Plaza.
We walked around the square, had a small cheese waffle to warm up, and dodged rain showers when they came. Each spell of rain didn’t last long, and in between we walked to other parts of town to see a church or a windmill here and there. Eventually it came closer to the market time, so we wandered back to the square and found a long row of cheese wheels set out on boards in front of the church, covered with plastic sheets to keep them dry. By now the stands selling cheese were open, but they weren’t giving out samples – just selling cheese wedges or small wheels. I was hoping to try more things, but it seemed like these cheeses were similar to the ones we had been sampling (extensively) back in Amsterdam.
The opening of the cheese market was signaled by the appearance of some beautiful black horses drawing a few wagons, an old guy wearing a completely yellow suit, some other old guys wearing blue jackets, and some old guys wearing white aprons. In addition there were a couple of young women wearing Dutch clogs and traditional clothing. The old guy in the yellow suit turned out to be the emcee, and he went through the introductions in 4-5 languages, so the intro took a while. Then the old men in blue jackets each lined up in front of a pile of cheese wheels across from an old man in a white apron. The faces of the old guys gave away the game – some of them looked slightly hungover but all of them looked like they do this every week and there is very little at stake. Each pair were supposedly buyer (the man in blue) and seller (the main in the white apron), and they met and negotiated the price of the cheese (of course in Dutch so I’m not sure what was said). The negotiation included a ritual of slapping hands, which was about the only thing we could understand, and they just did it over and over again – perhaps coming closer to an agreeable price?
Quickly I (and I’m sure the rest of the growing audience) realized that this is not a real market but kind of a dramatization, and that we were watching a show, and it got old quickly. The market was a means to attract tourism to the town, and these old guys were doing their civic duty by playing the parts.
So the market wasn’t a big deal for me and Kuniko and I started to look for a source of cheese, and a lot of it. The sellers weren’t interested in giving out samples, and I asked one seller where I could go if I wanted to try a lot of cheese – was there a restaurant somewhere? A cheese shop? Their response: “I don’t know”. The square was filling up with a remarkable amount of people (they must have been coming in by the busload) so there seemed to be plenty of demand.
We did a quick perusal of the restaurants around the square and did find one that had a lot of cheese on the menu. We sat together on one side of a table under an umbrella – the other side was slightly exposed to the rain that was still falling now and then. I ordered what was called a “Gouda 12 o’clock” which included Gouda soup, eggs with Gouda on toast, and Gouda croquettes. Kuniko ordered a Gouda cheese sandwich but we somehow received a toasted cheese panini by mistake – we didn’t notice until it was too late and ate it anyway. My meal was pretty tasty, but I was hoping the town of Gouda would provide a better way to eat an insane amount of cheese while we were there.
One minor disaster occurred while I went inside the restaurant to pay the bill after our meal. Someone came to sit at the table behind ours, so Kuniko thoughtfully moved and sat at the seat on the other side of our table to give them more space to sit. When I came back after paying the bill Kuniko stood up and we left, and we noticed that Kuniko’s jeans had adsorbed quite a bit of water from the wet seat she had briefly occupied. Thankfully because of the rain it was hard for people to notice that Kuniko was sporting a big wet spot on the seat of her pants.
Things improved dramatically when we stopped at a Flying Tiger store on the way out of town. There we finally found the crayfish cocktail napkins that had been eluding us since Iceland. A big burden was off my shoulders at that point.
Back to the train station, and we caught a short train ride (using a discarded newspaper as an absorbent seat for Kuniko) to visit The Hague, called Den Haag in Dutch. I had often heard of the city in the context of the United Nations, and since it was so close we thought it might be a nice way to spend the afternoon. The Hague had a completely different feel from Amsterdam. Amsterdam felt loose and young and a little wild, while The Hague was more clean, straight-laced and dignified somehow. The streets here were much wider and easier to walk, since there aren’t as many canals to work around.
We started with a visit to the Mauritshuis Art Museum. We bought tickets easily and then went inside the beautifully decorated building. The way it was designed was like you were visiting the house of a rich uncle and checking out his art collection. The interior was a central staircase with marble steps, and walls tastefully decorated in a Victorian style with rich shades of red and blue to go with the dark wood panels and floors. The collection itself was impressive with the centerpiece being “Girl with a Pearl Earring” by Johannes Vermeer. Surprisingly there weren’t that many people in the room checking out the original, so we could get close and admire it at our leisure.
At the time of our visit there was a class of schoolkids learning about art, and their teacher was quizzing them on the art that was on the wall while they answered and asked questions. It looked like the best art class ever. At the end we walked through the souvenir shop, and they had plenty of really goofy/playful souvenirs for sale. We managed to avoid doing any shopping there.
We took a break after the museum to sit outside on a square and have a glass of wine. The weather here was more sunny than rainy, but rain did occasionally fall. The server at the restaurant we visited was the nicest guy – I felt like the quality of service was really high in our experience on this trip. People are very friendly, and it is not because they are angling for a tip.
From there we walked quite a ways to go see the Peace Palace. It is a dramatic palace housing the International Court of Justice, among some other organizations. The entrance was a little hard to find, and believe it or not we walked almost completely around it before arriving at the front gate. When we arrived the sign said that admission was free, however they weren’t letting anyone in at that time. Rather than wait around for an undetermined time we moved on – so much to see!
We tried to visit one more palace closer to the city center, Noordeinde Palace, but due to security or bad directions we couldn’t access the central area to see the front of the building, only the back. I think we probably made a wrong turn in there somewhere. The palace is the home of some Dutch royalty, so it might be hidden for a reason.
On the way back to the train station we avoided a sudden rain squall by ducking into a French fries place. French fries were recommended as a traditional Dutch food, and we had ours with a healthy dose of curry sauce. They were so delicious! I was going to skip the fries because I thought they aren’t so different than fries in any other country but they were cooked perfectly and the curry sauce really balanced with the soft potato filling. Wow!
Once the rain subsided we continued on, walking through big city parks on wide walking lanes, with historic streetcars rolling by now and then. It was a quiet city, but quite large and very comfortable. I’m glad we visited it to really understand the contrast with Amsterdam. I’d recommend using a car or public transport in a city as big as The Hague, though.
We took a train back to Amsterdam, and then walked all the way back to the restaurant where we started, Lotti’s in the basement of the Hotel Hoxton. We knew it was a good place to hang out and we wanted to have our last meal in the Netherlands be a good one. We ordered a bowl of smoked eggplant dip, a loaf of nut-encrusted sourdough bread, another platter of cheese, and several big glasses of beer. While we ate we talked about our impressions of the cities and countries that we had visited this time. It is always amazing to think about how long ago it was when we first started the trip, and we had fond memories of that first pub back in Dublin when we were so exhausted we could barely stand. At the end of the dinner I had a glass of port to continue the celebratory mood.
Back at the hotel we did some packing, choosing the stuff to bring back and the stuff to throw away, and got ready to head to Asia early the next morning.
