The blobs of water bodies that are prominently visible on the map when you look at Amsterdam, which always seemed too inconvenient to drive and too distant to bike, somehow started feel closer the more I cycled around the country side.
Being curious about the eastern lakes and the nature areas I planned to ride along Spiegelplas, Ankeveensche plassen, Wijde Blik lakes. I spent half a day outdoors in the cold, biking almost 60km and it was a dream. Here are some pictures from the trip
Spiegelplas
Ankeveensche Plassen
Oud Loosdrecht
Nederlands Oorlogsgraf
Wijde Blik
Stopped by the bird watching hut (Vogelkijkhut) to eat lunch that I brought along
Stopping in Loenen aan de Vecht for a coffee and an appletaartje to warm up after a long cold day of riding with plenty more to go
The realization that I never thought of going beyond the confines of the city on my bike despite being at the edge of it astonished me. Being used to exploring new places with a car and knowing that I might have exhausted the possibilities for discovering new ones nearby after a decade, I lost my way in the art of getting lost. The subtitle of this blog was dedicated to the idea of travelling and getting lost and documenting them as I go along.
Capitalism has this effect where you feel an insatiable need that one purchase solves everything. In this case, it was a road bike. After all, that’s how I did it 10 years ago. This meant I also needed a bike computer. Ironically, it’s that purchase that made me realize that I don’t need a new bike, and my trusty 5-year-old e-bike was the perfect mode for exploring and getting lost – sweat-free.
The route I planned around windmills and old forts took me from Amsterdam and through Ankeveen -> Nederhorst den Berg -> Nigtevecht (or almost) -> Weesp -> and back.
First stop was the molen Hollandia. It popped out of nowhere and quite unexpectedly discovered a restaurant right beside it. It was both in the middle of nowhere and yet packed with families and friends enjoying the mid-day lunch and the sun.
Further ahead I passed through a really cute town of Ankeveen. The name had a very familiar ring to yet, yet one I’ve never paid attention to on a map despite it being less than 20kms away.
The landscape felt calm
And the houses quaint
Castle Nederhorst den Berg was the next landmark I passed, which seemed abandoned. My Dutch felt good enough to read the information displayed outside, which informed me first that it was privately owned and not open to the public. Secondly, to my amusement, it only allows couples living in the town to take wedding pictures.
At every single spot you’d consider pausing along the river Vecht, you are greeted with spectacularly calm views and soothing vibes.
The river crossing was apparently via a small electric ferry, which shut an hour earlier, leaving me stranded to take a detour that added 15 kilometers and an additional hour of the ride. With views like this, I couldn’t complain and welcomed the serendipity.
I was back near Nederhorst den Berg. At this particular moment, I was hit with a strange deja vu feeling, which I realized was more due to nostalgia than to memory of a specific spot I drove by in Scotland.
What do you call a collection of dwellings that are too small to even call a village? Thats the kind of place Hinderdam is.
The serene reflections were unbelievable.
As the sun sank lower in the sky, the golden hour unfolded upon the landscape
its colors and atmosphere building to a crescendo
culminating with buildings becoming striking silhouettes against this backdrop as I made my way home.
On a rainy Sunday, I headed to explore this little forest, which I only recently discovered despite having lived in my current neighbourhood for the better part of a decade.
Koffie met appeltaartje was delightful despite the crowded restaurant, which I nibbled while sitting at the bar, as that was the only spot available.
It was loud with noise from the nearby motorway and railway tracks, but it was quiet and quaint. The damp weather elevated the saturated green grass tones, making it stand out against the muddy grounds.
These trees reminded me of Speulderbos – Forest of dancing trees. It also reminded me to consider getting back onto road biking, which I fell off seven years ago after that bike went missing.
It brings me great joy to see well-behaved dogs, off-leash, merrily exploring around, occasionally waiting for their owners to catch up to them.
Photographing dry reeds is always fun, and all appear just as same as they are different.
A bridge emerged from the foilage, and I had to go up for a peek.
It was a relaxed 45 walk, though the trails website described it as a 2-hour circuit. It is close if you were herding a few restless kids and a dog or two with every step you take.
It’s bright, it’s sunny, it’s green. The mood is not so. It’s been a challenging year of self-realization and acceptance or meagre attempts at it. However, after almost a year of hiatus, I picked up my camera with the intent of taking at least half a dozen pictures and post something. That is progress, a high point of the year so far.
Black and white just seems appropriately poetic to acknowledge the summer’s wildflower blossom, changing season and sombre feels of what looks like yet another lost year due to the-virus-that-shall-not-be-named
