|
|
|
Holland's watery highway  Kayaking the canals of the water-laced province of Overijssel is the best way to see the nature reserves, wetlands and pastoral villages of this little-known Dutch province By GREG STOTT Special to The Globe and Mail Wednesday, July 31, 2002 – Print Edition, Page T1 ZWOLLE, NETHERLANDS -- There are some things a kayaker doesn't expect to encounter on the water. An orchestra is one of them. Nevertheless, as my wife, Vicky, and I rounded a bend in Holland's Zwarte River in our tandem kayak, that is precisely what loomed ahead -- a full band in mid-song on a barge pulled by a small tugboat. We paddled to a grassy shoreline nearby, where we learned that the musical barge was one of three floating orchestras rehearsing the climax to a musical production for Zwolle's Festival De Stad Als Theatre. The annual event is held in June on the river in Zwolle, the capital city of the water-laced province of Overijssel. After our symphonic encounter, the festival organizer offered us an invitation to the evening concert, and we spent our most memorable night in Overijssel listening to Gershwin and a sweeping chorale and symphonic finale that moved us to tears. The evening was just one of the charming detours that came our way in a week of day-tripping through Holland's waterways by kayak. Unlike Amsterdam, which loves boats with motors but doesn't embrace kayaks, Overijssel, just an hour and a half northeast by car, is friendly to the slim craft. Here, kayaks and canoes are almost as widely available to rent as the ubiquitous bicycle. Overijssel is also a province known for its nature reserves, wetlands, waterways and several fetching villages and towns. Our goal was to mix bicycling with about 100 kilometres of sightseeing by kayak. Nowhere was the welcome mat more evident than in Giethoorn, a town about 30 kilometres from Zwolle whose main drag is a two-kilometre-long canal. Although not quite the guidebook-touted "Dutch version of Venice," residents do depend on boats and footbridges to get around. And the picturesque little town with thatched-roof houses and manicured gardens attracts a million visitors annually. In Giethoorn, we picked up a kayak from a rental shop, Mol Groenewegen, where the owner, Gerrit Mol, seemed perplexed that we didn't prefer a "Canadian canoe." Kayaks are generally faster, although that was hardly meaningful in Giethoorn's narrow main canal where we promptly found ourselves stuck behind a wedding gondola replete with smiling bride and a wedding party singing a Dutch version of O Solo Mio. Once beyond the nuptials, we paddled to the town's lake, Boven Wijde, where some of the reverie was lost as three reckless teenagers raced motorboats perilously close to our kayaks, sending wakes of water over our bows. Luckily, the incident was short-lived, and minutes later we joined a convoy of canoes and kayaks following a meandering route through the reed marshes that prevail in Overijssel. The reeds are used in the thatched roofs that are mandatory on the homes on Giethoorn's main canal in an attempt to preserve the town's heritage. On the water in Overijssel, the relaxing green monochrome of the tall reeds dominates the scenery, occasionally interrupted by small windmills, cows or other farm animals in shoreline pastures. As a wilderness haven, Holland can't compete with Canada, but it does have its more domestic charms and a tempered sense of adventure. Perhaps that's why the Dutch seem to have a relaxed attitude about safety precautions. Outside of the more demanding ocean kayaking, which occurs mostly around Texel in the country's northern islands, many kayakers and canoeists don't bother with life jackets. For most of the in-town paddling, shorelines are rarely far away. The only upset we saw was a source of amusement, as a fellow who dumped in Boven Wijde was able to stand up in the lake and walk his kayak to a nearby shoreline. A more ambitious outing for us arrived another day, when we realized we could kayak from Giethoorn to the resort village of Blokzijl, an ancient port we had already been introduced to on a reconnaissance tour by car. The trip required a detailed map of De Wieden (one of two major nature preserves), a full day of paddling and the help of a resident who kindly transported us and our rental kayaks back to Giethoorn at the end of the day. Return transport for the kayaks can also be arranged with a kayak rental operator in Giethoorn. Either way, Blokzijl is worth a visit. Every year, 20,000 boats pass through the lock, bringing more visitors than arrive by car or bicycle. Most come ashore for the day or stay on their boats since the town is short on accommodation. Founded in 1450 and once serving as a fortress town against Spanish invasion, Blokzijl sat for centuries barely one kilometre from the sea. But 50 years ago, one of Holland's massive projects to reclaim land pushed the sea back 30 kilometres and a system of massive dikes put to rest a history of intermittent and sometimes devastating flooding. A walk to a lock just outside the small main harbour provides a view of the relatively new landscape -- the great swaths of land where ocean once reigned are now mostly farmland. On a tour of the village, a high-water mark, well above our heads, was pointed out on one of the houses. Clearly the gentle waterways that we had used to reach Blokzijl had once, in another incarnation, brought trouble and tragedy as well. Finding a remote experience is challenging in this densely populated country, but visitors can find some sense of wilderness in the Nationaal Park de Weerribben, one of Europe's prime wetlands, just north and adjacent to Overijssel's De Wieden. Together, De Weerribben and De Wieden form the largest fen (a low-lying peatland) in western Europe. Once a source of fuel, the peat was harvested from the wetlands by diggers who dredged and dried the highly organic combustible soil in great long strips. Every one of the small local lakes, called wijdes, was created by the peat dredging. That same dredging made wealthy men out of some of the tradesmen who built fortunes and grand homes by shipping peat to other areas of the Netherlands. Most of the peat workers, though, were poor, living and raising their families in tiny cottages. We stayed in one of these cottages on a small parcel of land reached by a footbridge spanning a narrow canal. A small herd of semi-wild horses grazed in the adjacent reeds, their short stature perfectly matched to the cottage that required us to stoop to enter and to sleep on a mattress in a traditional closet. From the cottage, we used polyethylene kayaks to paddle the narrow channels that meander through islands of reeds and peat bogs. Our guide on one of our forays was Cor Van Es, one of Holland's leading kayak enthusiasts and a dealer of the legendary Klepper kayak, a tough folding canvas boat that has made ocean crossings. I had always wanted to try one of the folding boats, with thoughts of exploring other European destinations such as Venice by water, and Mr. Van Es -- now in the early stages of planning kayak tours for visitors for 2003 -- took us on outings in both De Wieden and De Weerribben. With the business name of De Waterman (The Waterman), it was not surprising to learn that the stocky, barrel-chested Mr. Van Es had once swam the English Channel, nor that his thatched-roof, home-based business located on the fringe of the wetlands is accessible only by boat. With the expertise of a man who knows Holland's waterways intimately, he took us through a maze of narrow waterways in the Kleppers, which proved to be supremely stable though not especially fast. Along our route, Mr. Van Es introduced us to a range of waterfowl for which the wetlands are vitally important, and was able to spot a sleeping water hen among lily pads from 100 metres away. For many of the Dutch, it seems that neither the kayak nor canoe is taken particularly seriously for water travel, at least in the fresh-water regions. Generally, they are rented for a few hours of good-natured play time with friends, and few people possess genuine paddling skills. More than once, I found myself playing the Canadian canoe ambassador, providing tips to canoeists who struggled to keep their bows straight in the face of persistent Dutch breezes. For anyone with a taste for vacation that mixes exercise and soft adventure, kayaking and biking in Overijssel will keep mind and body in harmony and arms and legs in shape. It's not the great outdoors as Canadians know it, but it is a good introduction to a pastoral province of Holland that is a popular getaway region for the Dutch but barely visited by Canadians. Just watch out for the floating orchestras. If you go
WHERE TO STAY
|