New Year Holland 2004

The New Year’s Eve trip

Snow? What snow ? You really think that is gonna stop us ?

It's 5.30pm on New Years Eve 2002, and I sit on the bankside of the River Tyne, well wrapped up against the icy wind, looking along the riverbank paths, looking where I would walk with my dog. Sadly he passed away two years earlier about this time, and I felt a bit lost. There has has to be something better to do than the usual pint in the pub, followed by sausage rolls and cheese and pineapple sticks at some willing host's house.

Then the massive Queen of Scandinavia hove into view as she left the Tyne on her regular foray across the North Sea to Holland. The thousands of lights from the vessel shimmered across an unusually calm river and excited anticipative voices could be heard from the viewing decks.

That was it. The idea was born in a flash. In 12 months time, I would be on that ferry. Well, not quite as it happened, as the New Years Eve sailing was the Prince of Scandinavia, a slightly smaller and not so modern vessel. So when it came to booking time, I elected for the 30th Dec sailing on the Queen. Of course, there was still the problem of convincing SWMBO that going away for New Year was a good idea, let alone on a damn motorbike! Still, give her her due, she puts up with a lot when she rides pillion in sub-zero temperatures. But women are women, and if you ever suggest she should be getting the RIGHT bike clothing, you get THAT look, and some fashion-driven comment along the lines of "they make me look like a size 14!". You see, for Geordie lasses, how you look is BY FAR the most important thing, far more important than being warm and dry. Joji in India once posted a hilarious tale about Indian women on mopeds which followed a similar vein. (I still have it if anyone wants it).

The plan was to hole up in a hotel at Wijk aan Zee, just north of Ijmuiden and home of the All-British Hot Rod Rally, and not really travel very far. Not far ? - now this is an understatement - I regularly cycle to and from work (18 miles each way) and this motorcycle trip was intended to be even shorter than that!

So the Trophy 1200 was packed up (well you have to make SOME concessions to the wimminfolk, I prefer BSAs for overseas trips) and we made the trip to the Ferry Terminal which was all of two miles; hardly worth getting the bike gear on. Passed through Port Security/Customs without problems, and strapped the bike down on the deck. Number of bikes on this huge vessel? - One!

Nice cabin. Few beers. Over-priced steak in the restaurant. Great cabaret show (it gets better every time) with Bulgarian band/dancers. One girl was spinning four hula-hoops at neck, chest, waist amd knees (it takes some doing!), and later had something like 30 hoops all going at once. Amazing stuff.

And you thought Holland was flat ? Well, not where the sand dunes are ! This is Wijk aan Zee taken from a German WW2 bunker on the seaward side.

Up at 7.30am (I HATE losing that hour), and looked over the ship's rail to see...Fog. Nothing but fog, a dense fog, and freezing fog, too. Couldn't even see the damn dockside from deck 7! We togged up in heated vests, and carefully edged across the icy dockside, looking for the road to take us over the North Sea Canal sluice gates, rather than heading inland for the motorway. We crossed the sluice gates but couldn't find the tiny road that heads along the coast to Wijk aan Zee. In fact, we could hardly see the canal as the fog was so thick. No choice but to head for Velsen Noord, and Beverwijk. Arrived at hotel with approximately 1/2 inch of ice build-up on screen, bike and parts of the riders! Temperature was about minus 2c.

Checked in at the Hotel Sonnevanck, which is something of a relic from the grand old seaside holiday days. We were later to meet Hans Muller (BSA WDM20, Triumph 3TA) who explained that the hotel had been a holiday hotel for the "well-to-do's" in the good old days, but now was something of a budget hotel, and had seen better days. Nevertheless, for us, it was perfect. The rooms were simple, but had huge cast-iron radiators which rumbled gently all through the night just to let you know the system was working for you! The beds very comfortable, and limited en-suite facilities of a shower and washbasin.

A quick luggage drop, and we headed straight to Amsterdam where we had arranged to meet Henk and Anneke Fick (Triumph Sprint RS) at Motoplace, a Triumph Dealer, at high noon. After being mis-directed 2km in each direction, we found the Triumph dealer - a mere 50 metres from where we first asked someone! Here we found the bargain of the year when Deborah picked up a pair of XS Triumph quality Gore-tex gloves for Euro 19.00. Reduced from Euro 59.00 !

We then followed Henk into Amsterdam where we took a short City Centre tour on the bikes, and then parked up on the pavement for a meal and a wander. This is where Henk explained the festivities that take place all over Holland on New Years Eve, and almost on cue, his comments were accentuated by the deafening clatter of firecrackers about 100 metres away towards the Albert Market. "It will be the same everywhere tonight!". We weren't altogether sure that would be the case in tiny Wijk, but how wrong we were! As part of the New Year tradition, the cafes were offering complimentary "Oliebollen", which is a kind of sultana filled doughnut. Very tasty!

We said our goodbyes, and headed back to the hotel for a meal and a few drinks, by which time we were shattered! Henk and Anneke had left for Cologne, so their journey was to be much longer than ours.

A New Year's Eve line up of 4 platinum bikes outside "Motoplace" in Amsterdam. Henk Fick's Sprint RS is in the foreground, and my Trophy behind

Henk Fick (left) and Ken Hastie (Right) in Amsterdam. 31st Dec 2003

Deciding to have a bit of a lie down at 9pm, we knew what would happen; our eyes would close and the New Year would pass us by! So I set the alarm for 11.30pm, and sure enough, we awoke from deep slumbers. A short walk down to the town centre and we watched the church clock click onto midnight. Strange, I thought, not a great deal of excitement; just an odd rocket or two. At least nothing like Henk had led us to believe.

Then about ten minutes after midnight all hell let loose. There were fireworks everywhere. And believe me, the Dutch go absolutely bananas once they start! These are not typical British garden fireworks, but monster cardboard boxes that seem to explode in the biggest explosion of noise and flame you can imagine. And not just one or two, but hundreds. They think nothing of setting these off right beside you, and you are left running for fear of your life! It was impossible to stand near the firecrackers without fingers firmly pressed to ears. The noise was truly deafening. About a full hour and a half later things start to subside, although they did start off again at around 9am!

Err...this snow's starting to fall a bit more than a Trophy is happy with !

New Years Day. A light snow was forecast. Boy, did they get that one wrong! Our plans for a bike ride were well and truly scuppered when the snow fell for about 10 continuous hours. The roads were impassable on a bike, and I had real reservations about whether we would ever reach the ferry the following day.

We walked to the town centre. Still nothing much happening. We walked to the sand dunes and found a huge complex of German WW2 bunkers we didn't know were there, Only the dark shapes in the snowfall made them apparent. Then about a hundred Dutchmen and women in swimming costumes ran across the snow-covered beach, and straight into the sea. Yes, final confirmation that they are all most definitely mad!

Early evening, and the bike had a thick layer of snow. So we walked to the Bar "Sante", initially for a few Warsteiner beers and Jenever "chasers", but where we later had what I can honestly describe as the best meal I have ever had in the many years I have travelled to Holland. The owner was born in France, and moved to Holland with his parents when 9 years old, and now has his Bar/Restaurant. My two full racks of spare ribs took an age to demolish, being served up with jacket potatoes and exotic salad. Deborah's Boeuf Stroganoff was also much too much, and her apetite is greater than mine! Around Euros 16 each, this was superb value for the quality.

The Hotel Sonnevanck in Wijk aan Zee

Before we knew it, our day of departure had arrived. We sauntered downstairs to find another "internet-friend", 70-year-old Hans Muller who had made the hour long journey to come and visit us. Hans, like Henk, was a very likeable fellow, and also a great conversationalist. His passion and enthusiasm for his bikes was obvious, and we exchanged much conversation over breakfast. There is something nicely warming about getting to meet people that you have previously only communicated with on the 'net. Henk, Anneke and Hans added so much to our visit, and what burden could it be to return the compliment? None, of course...

The roads still had plenty of ice and snow, and the locks were frozen on the bike luggage. Out of sight of the hotel owners, I carried them into a hot shower, and soon had them free. It was a good job I had just filled the fuel tank up, because that lock was frozen solid, too. I brushed the snow off the Trophy, added a bit of choke, and of course she fired up straight away.

Now came the prospect of finding rideable roads. Deborah said the main roads should be clear, to which I quipped the task in hand was getting there! The one way system (in the direction I needed to go) was still heavily iced up, due to the insulating quality of the road bricks, and completely unrideable. Perhaps on a BSA, but not on the Trophy. Nothing for it but to go the 'wrong way' round the one-way system, where sunshine had done it's best to free up most of the ice. Proceeding cautiously, the driver of the Heineken lorry I met head-on displayed a puzzled expression; I guess not because we were in the wrong direction, but because we were on a bike at all!

We made our way to Beverwijk and had a splendid afternoon just mooching around. The shops, the Cafes, the people, and those bakeries! Why can we not have bakeries like this is England? Every Dutch town has bakeries with the hugest selection of the most mouth-watering cream cakes ever seen... Deborah responded by making a rather unkind comment about how we would start to look like our American cousins! (To be fair this comment is not based on fact, but on a comment Michael Palin made in his "Around the World in 80 days" documentary, when he travelled an a cross-USA Amtrak train filled with amply-portioned people, one of whom became stuck in the loo. So please, don't shoot me; I'm only the messenger !)

"One Euro ? As much as that ?" The Intrepid Travellers cross the NordZee Kanal (Look how full the ferry is! No profit today, guys....)

And so on to Velsen Noord, and a quick hop on the ferry that crosses the Nordsee Kanal at enormous cost (1 Euro!), and then to the Elison Ferry Terminal at Ijmuiden. Even here, the quayside was covered in snow, and whilst the ferry staff were strictly controlling the cars in an ordered manner, they told me just to get to the car deck "whichever way I wanted at least risk" to me. Why can't all nations be as sensible and accommodating?

So there we have it. A superb trip which covered so few miles. But what makes any journey memorable? Quite simple - it's the memories you add to your store, of the people you meet, the places to which you have been, and the cultures you have experienced. These are the fond memories you can recall on demand time and time again.

I'm privileged to have been able to add yet another one to that store.