My husband started the tradition we now call birthday whisking two years ago when he whisked me away to The Fullerton Hotel on my birthday weekend. I returned the favor with a birthday whisk to the Pan Pacific the following year, with the just-released God of War 3 and his Playstation secretly packed into our suitcase. And my last birthday whisk was to the Marina Bay Sands.
Thankfully, a few remaining freelance gigs enabled me to carry on the tradition this year. Part 3 of my birthday gift to Marlon was a weekend on the island of Texel, largest of the Frisian Islands at the northern tip of Holland (close to Denmark), and one of the first getaway places I'd heard about when I first arrived.
So on Friday after work, Marlon and I embarked on my carefully researched route, which involved a tram to Centraal Station, a 1 hour and 15-minute train to the town of Den Helder, a 10-minute bus ride from Den Helder to the port, a 20-minute ferry from the port to 't Hoorntje on Texel, and a 30-minute bus ride from 't' Hoorntje to the Hotel Tatenhove in the town of De Koog. *Whew!*
By the time we got to the hotel, our cozy room, with its mostly new furnishings, spacious bathroom and aggressive heating, was more than a welcome sight.
The next morning, I realized my grand design had a fatal flaw: Amsterdam was set to be fairly sunny that Saturday, but I neglected to check the weather report for Noord-Holland. I think it was because I'd gotten so used to Singapore, a tiny dot with the same weather everywhere. So imagine my surprise when we woke up to a freeze-your-balls-off 2℃. The floral dress I packed to look charmingly spring-ish while biking along the sunny dunes of Texel? Fuhgeddaboudid.
Biking was Fuhgeddaboudid No. 2, as I soon realized the bikes for rent at the hotel were not made for my stumpy Asian legs. I watched with envy, shivering in my leather jacket, as couple after long-legged, fleece-clad couple sped off into the frigid bike paths of De Koog.
With bikes firmly out of the equation, Marlon and I decided to hoof it.
We tramped through the Pelikanse Bos, a woods where I more than half-expected to see actual pelicans. There were no pelicans, but there were lots of tiny, red-cheeked Dutch kids on ponies. Muchas preciosas.
Oh and if you think I'm a certified Last Unicorn nutjob, I'm nothing compared to the dude who took 3,505 screen caps of the movie and posted them online. (Thanks for the images, by the way.)
In true Last Unicorn fashion, we eventually reached the beach.
And what a frigid beach she was.
I thought I'd seen it all when I saw the surfers in the near-freezing water, but then I saw a woman in clad shaggy, thick, head-to-toe fur for a beach holiday. Then I decided I'd seen it all.
Then we caved in to our inner lolo and lola and stumbled back to the hotel. Craving warmth and rest, we stretched out on the hotel patio, with an expansive view of a pond and fields, and soaked up whatever sun Noord-Holland could muster up.
"Nobody in here but us retirees," I mumbled as I drifted off to sleep, peeking with one eye at the white-haired folk who weren't out painting De Koog red, but were instead reading, sleeping, and yes, knitting in our midst.
"Tomorrow," Marlon said. "We'll try again tomorrow."
Thankfully, a few remaining freelance gigs enabled me to carry on the tradition this year. Part 3 of my birthday gift to Marlon was a weekend on the island of Texel, largest of the Frisian Islands at the northern tip of Holland (close to Denmark), and one of the first getaway places I'd heard about when I first arrived.
So on Friday after work, Marlon and I embarked on my carefully researched route, which involved a tram to Centraal Station, a 1 hour and 15-minute train to the town of Den Helder, a 10-minute bus ride from Den Helder to the port, a 20-minute ferry from the port to 't Hoorntje on Texel, and a 30-minute bus ride from 't' Hoorntje to the Hotel Tatenhove in the town of De Koog. *Whew!*
By the time we got to the hotel, our cozy room, with its mostly new furnishings, spacious bathroom and aggressive heating, was more than a welcome sight.
The next morning, I realized my grand design had a fatal flaw: Amsterdam was set to be fairly sunny that Saturday, but I neglected to check the weather report for Noord-Holland. I think it was because I'd gotten so used to Singapore, a tiny dot with the same weather everywhere. So imagine my surprise when we woke up to a freeze-your-balls-off 2℃. The floral dress I packed to look charmingly spring-ish while biking along the sunny dunes of Texel? Fuhgeddaboudid.
Biking was Fuhgeddaboudid No. 2, as I soon realized the bikes for rent at the hotel were not made for my stumpy Asian legs. I watched with envy, shivering in my leather jacket, as couple after long-legged, fleece-clad couple sped off into the frigid bike paths of De Koog.
With bikes firmly out of the equation, Marlon and I decided to hoof it.
Har har, I couldn't resist. We didn't set off on horseback, but we did decide to walk. On our way to the Texel Sand Dunes National Park, we passed a riding school with the most adorably shaggy ponies. This pretty thing cozied up to my husband, which is the only time I will ever tolerate husband cozying by pretty things.
We tramped through the Pelikanse Bos, a woods where I more than half-expected to see actual pelicans. There were no pelicans, but there were lots of tiny, red-cheeked Dutch kids on ponies. Muchas preciosas.
After about half an hour of walking, we reached hilly dry grasslands marked "heath" on our map, a revelation after reading the word in so many books and not having any cultural reference for it. And then it dawned on me... "Do you know what this reminds me of?!? Do you know what I feel like here?!?" I cried, seizing my husband and shaking him with mounting excitement. "It's like... it's like.. The Last Unicorn!!!"
Sing with me! "I'm aliiiiiive... I'm aliiiiiiiive..."
Of course, we had to stop and take pictures of me walking despondently through the heath in search of my fellow unicorns, like so.
This is one of the better pictures.
Oh and if you think I'm a certified Last Unicorn nutjob, I'm nothing compared to the dude who took 3,505 screen caps of the movie and posted them online. (Thanks for the images, by the way.)
In true Last Unicorn fashion, we eventually reached the beach.
And what a frigid beach she was.
Brrr!
Seeing North Face as beachwear boggled my tropical mind. Combined with the close-to-zero temperature, each gust of sea breeze certainly gave new meaning to chilling out on the beach. But some people didn't seem to care, like this group of surfers we spotted. "Baliw," I muttered through chattering teeth.
Kaya pala lokang-loka sila sa mga beaches natin, no? Because while I was surprised at how soft, white and fine the sand was, and how expansive the beach was, it was a darn shame about the cold. Mahirap pala talaga yung perfect combo ng water, sand, and weather. At mas mahirap pa na halos whole year round siyang perfect. The Philippines is really so blessed, and we Pinoys are so lucky.
I was pretty surprised to find such a great beach here, and I consider myself spoiled by Philippine beaches. It's not the first thing you'd think about Holland, for sure, or even the third. The Dutch know that, so they've placed this gem of a beach under special protection as a national park. So aside from the high, soft dunes that make you just want to tumble from their heights, the other really special thing about the beach was the wildlife... especially the beautiful sea birds.
Speaking of wildlife, I saw lots of big, happy dogs bounding along the shore. The Texel dunes are indeed the perfect place for creatures with built-in fur coats and a deep-seated need for frolicking with abandon. This overjoyed poodle ran right into my husband's arms while he was taking its picture.
After over an hour of taking photos, struggling against the cold and sinking into the sand, we came upon a beach pavilion with an open-roofed terrace that had tall glass windows to shield sun-worshippers against the wind. We grabbed the opportunity to escape the wind and grab some hot chocolate and lunch.
I thought I'd seen it all when I saw the surfers in the near-freezing water, but then I saw a woman in clad shaggy, thick, head-to-toe fur for a beach holiday. Then I decided I'd seen it all.
By around 4 o'clock we were completely exhausted from the shivering and the walking. I think the cold makes you extra tired when you're not dressed for it. We meandered back to town for an afternoon snack of coffee and crepes along Dorpsstraat, De Koog's main tourist thoroughfare with restaurants and shops.
Then we caved in to our inner lolo and lola and stumbled back to the hotel. Craving warmth and rest, we stretched out on the hotel patio, with an expansive view of a pond and fields, and soaked up whatever sun Noord-Holland could muster up.
"Nobody in here but us retirees," I mumbled as I drifted off to sleep, peeking with one eye at the white-haired folk who weren't out painting De Koog red, but were instead reading, sleeping, and yes, knitting in our midst.
"Tomorrow," Marlon said. "We'll try again tomorrow."
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