FIVE DAYS OF HOLLAND (FOR CHILDREN)

The first association that pops into my mind at the mention of Holland – is cheese. To be precise, the vintage crumbly Gouda that my friend Francy used to feed me when we worked together in an office in the City. It would dissolve into tiny crystals of pure pleasure and – I am still convinced – contained some healing, mood-enhancing components that were more efficient than any prescription drug! Over a decade of our friendship, my Dutch friend who now resides in Berlin has introduced me to a variety of the finest culinary specialities of Holland – chocolate sprinkles on bread (yummy), Stroopwafel biscuits and Dutch cinnamon breakfast bread (so moreish that my other half ate the whole loaf in one go).

My geography and history obsessed nearly-seven-year-old has also discovered a few interesting facts on her own about the destination of our February half-term break; British king Charles II escaped to Holland at some point during his reign, colourful tulips are best to be visited in April (ah well, we chose the wrong month), farmers still wear wooden shoes (clogs) and the favourite food of Dutch children are the miniature pancakes called “poffertjes”. Well, at least they were the favourite snack of the doctor we met during the recent “excursion” to the local A&E. The paediatrician in charge happened to be from The Hague and the medical assessment soon developed into a chat about things to see and do in his hometown. In no time I was instructed – by both – to note down the name of these famous pancakes.

SUNDAY – THE SPRINTER, THE HAGUE AND THE POFFERTJES

As my other half has visited this country on various occasions – being of the generation that predominantly celebrated their stag weekends in Amsterdam, followed by a few business trips – he was not devastated that we left him behind and embarked on a very female adventure.
It’s late February and the weather forecast is predicting temperatures one or two degrees either side of the zero. Our flight (a reasonable £130 for two, hand-luggage only) departs from Gatwick at 11.30 and we leave our East London home around 7 a.m. Far, far too early. With the smooth-running Victoria line and the extra expensive Gatwick Express (£29 something for an adult and a child, one way) we get at the airport in an hour and a half and have plenty of time to do nothing.
This is the first time that I’m flying hand-luggage only and I’m half exited, half worried. It’s cool to be a light traveller…if I have not packed any of the non-permitted articles in my luggage and have enough space for souvenirs on the way back! The flight itself is quick (approx. 50 min) and smooth, but I get annoyed by the unpleasantly strict EasyJet boarding stewardess. The two of us are allowed one bag each, but we have three – the third one being my daughter’s miniature rucksack. And only after her backpack is transferred into my handbag can we board the plane!


Within minutes of arriving at Schiphol Airport, we are on a Sprinter train heading to The Hague. Over the following days we discover that – in contradiction to its name – the Sprinter is actually a slow train and the Intercity a fast one. We are moving through fields and farmland covered in a solid layer of snow, pass windmills and wind turbines, herds of black pigs burrowing under the frozen powdery blanket for snacks, and cyclists galore who do not seem to mind the weather conditions. The brightness of the snow and the light (although not sunny) sky is blinding and I wonder why I never even considered packing my sunglasses.
We are staying with my friend Giulia in The Hague. She is one of those intelligent, multi-lingual, well-travelled, but also funny and beautiful women I want my daughter to meet and have as role models. She picks us up from Den Haag Centraal, drives us to her flat and the first thing she treats us to are – the famous poffertjes! And we are hooked! They are incredibly delicious and over the five days in Holland and a couple of days afterwards (we brought two packets from the supermarket) the two of us consume somewhere between 250 and 300 poffertjes. Two little piggies!

MONDAY – VAN GOGH AND THE CANALS

Giulia lives just around the corner from Vredespaleis (Peace Palace), where The International Court of the United Nations resides, and every place in The Hague seem easy to get to. Early on Monday – after a breakfast of… poffertjes – we take the Intercity train to Amsterdam from Den Haag Holland Spoor train station. The city has two main stations – Den Haag Centraal and Den Haag Holland Spoor – both equally well connected to Amsterdam as well as to Giulia’s apartment. It’s a rather freezing morning; slippery pavements are covered with frozen remnants of snow and a robust white blanket is still covering fields and meadows, giving the countryside a Christmas-card look.



I bought the tickets for the Van Gogh Museum over a week ago; and that proved to be an excellent idea as by the time we reach it – 10 a.m. just gone – the queue is snaking around the frozen square of the Museumplein. After all, this is one of the most visited museums in the whole world! Our ticket is for 11 a.m. and there is plenty of time for a browse through the sunflowers and almond blossom merchandise in the museum shop.
There is again an issue with Martha’s little backpack; regardless of how small they are, rucksacks are not allowed in the museum. I rearrange snacks, notebooks etc. in my cross-body bag and again place my daughter’s rucksack inside. After all of that, the museum clerk – a young and vicious lady – looks at me and says “sorry, your bag is too big now”. So the little rucksack has to go to the cloakroom…
The museum is home to the largest collection of Van Gogh’s work and we enjoy a breathtaking journey through the creative phases as well as the dark tunnels of the mind of one of the best-known artists of all times. From the early The Potato Eaters and other rural scenes to The Yellow House, Almond Blossoms, The Sunflowers (well – one of them), and my favourite Van Gogh – Bedroom in Arles. There is something so meagre and simple about it. Yet – so alluring and unique. I fell in love with it during my days in the student dormitory in Rijeka… Not that there were many similarities between my room and Van Gogh’s …
We eat lunch – vegetarian quiche, cheese sandwich, coffee, cheesecake – in the museum café Le Tambourin, named after the Parisian restaurant that Van Gogh frequented and where he held one of his first exhibitions. Very tasty and not too pricey.



Not far from the Museumplein, we embark on a Blue Boat tour of the Amsterdam canals (€16 adults, €8.50 child). It’s a crisp and bright afternoon and my overly-excited nearly-seven-year old is showing signs of tiredness and irritation. The 75-minute water trip could be just what we need! Young passengers are handed an entertainment package containing binoculars, packs of miniature colouring pencils and a booklet with a how-to-be-a-real-pirate manual, pages of various activities to complete and motifs to spot on our route. We glide leisurely on narrow canals, taking in colourful bridges, typically narrow houses with large shutters and reliefs of various animals engraved on the façades.
In no time the afternoon is over, the sun is sliding down and we are heading back to The Hague…

TUESDAY – DELFT AND MADURODAM

In our initial plan, Tuesday was scheduled to be a day of taking-it-easy with the possibly of some rest. It turned into anything but…
After yet another breakfast of poffertjes we take Tram Number 1 and – as recommended by Giulia – travel all the way to Delft. Well-known around the world for its distinctive porcelain, Delft is also an amazingly charming place with its small bridges and miniature houses crammed around canals. In the café Bakker Suikerbuik we write our postcards and munch on delicious pastries... Every photograph taken in Delft has the quality of a postcard; from the views of narrow canals to the large square framed by old buildings, stores selling souvenirs, porcelain and cheese, with everything pointing to the Nieuwe Kerk (New Church) and its sky-high church tower.

On the way back to The Hague, we stop at a secret location where Giulia works (for an International organisation that I was not allowed to take photos of, and am not sure if I can mention its name either, so I’d better avoid it all together). We pass an airport-level security check – placing our jackets and bags into the trays of X-ray machines and walking under metal detector arches – and enter a gigantic enterprise that is really a world of its own. The canteen and its menu options are impressive (veal with gnocchi in horseradish sauce for me and gnocchi with parmesan cheese for Mini-Me) and the sports facilities (indoor and outdoor tennis courts, squash, basketball – just to mention a few) would put even the most advanced gym to shame. But the rest of the complex is off limits to visitors…
After leaving the undisclosed site and Giulia to continue with her top-secret work, we head back to Den Haag Holland Spoor station and take Tram Number 9 to Madurodam. This park hosts mini versions of just about every famous place in Holland; from cathedrals, churches and other historic buildings from Utrecht, Rotterdam, Amsterdam and other cities to a replica of Schiphol airport with KLM planes slowly moving in circles, cargo and passenger trains rushing around restlessly, boats navigating the rivers and canals, windmills turning and stopping; and all other kinds of infrastructure specific to this country, and even a field of gargantuan wooden tulips… Miniature people are pacing up and down the miniature streets; ambulances and other vehicles are slowly turning around the corners, and life runs smoothly, both in the Mini and the Real Holland…



Two hours later we are still meandering though the Lilliputian world; by now the batteries of both cameras are dead, our fingers and noses have turned a reddish shade typical for the early stages of hypothermia, the day is announcing its imminent end but my child is still not showing any interest in leaving...

WEDNESDAY – ILLUSION, SCIENCE AND HISTORY

Our third full day in Holland is packed with activities. Straight after the breakfast (of “proffetjes” – what else?) we visit Panorama Mesdag, just around the corner from Giulia’s flat. This 360-degree rather original painting not only transports you back in time but also tricks your brain into believing you are inside the picture. It’s a very impressive illusion; the visitors stand on the viewing platform that represents a sand hill and are surrounded by the sea on one side and houses on the other. The boats are fighting fierce waves and the thick black clouds are announcing an imminent storm, while the fishermen’s baskets and other items are randomly spread on the sand. We try to figure out where the real sand ends and the painting starts – that thin line between reality and impression – but it keeps eluding us… (€15 for 2).



And in no time we are in Amsterdam for the last two items on our “to-do” list in the Dutch capital. Our first destination is the NEMO Science Museum; where children and adults alike can discover the various aspects of science and technology behind everyday life and get their hands dirty. In our case we got our hands – wet. And not only hands, but more or less all of our body. Fascinated by the “water circle machine” we follow a bucket of water throughout the whole process of purification. The water first descends from the clouds, then it undergoes endless phases of removing impurities until is finally safe for consumption…
For the next fifteen minutes, we turn into lab scientists; equipped with white coats and given a choice of experiments with a detailed step-by-step guide. We choose – not quite sure why – something to do with shooting rockets into space… Being useless at chemistry and looking rather lost, we get assistance from the lab technicians. The experiment is supposed to be very easy – you take a test tube, add 3 ml of vinegar, then tip the test tube and add a little bit of baking powder, close it, put it into an elongated glass dome and wait for it to explode and skyrocket. We are encouraged to repeat it on our own. Instead – we just wait for another lab assistant to notice us and assist us… The two of us are more at home in the rational lab where we play with guessing people’s emotions and testing the effects of certain images on our feelings (my strongest reaction was provoked by a photo of a snake and my daughter’s by the image of a girl on a swing).
The NEMO is a perfect playground where science and technology become fun and entertainment. Also – the espresso in the café on the first floor is fantastic! And while I savour it my child plays in the bubble-making corner right in front of me. She is already wet, anyway…



The last thing on our list is the Anne Frank House at 5PM (booking tickets in advance is a must). The two of us take a leisurely stroll down the canals, past cafés emanating a strong whiff of opiates (you are high even without walking in), vintage and other quirky shops and pub/bars in the dark basements of narrow houses. Eventually we sit in a café opposite the Anne Frank House (Roem @ Prinsengracht) and order two large, thick pancakes with chocolate shavings and icing sugar. Tasty enough but not as delicious as the poffertjes and my daughter hardly eats half of it (which I pack and take away in case she changes her mind, but she does not…)
As we walk through narrow, dark rooms of the Anne Frank House and I try to explain to my Year Two pupil about the utter brutality and the nonsense of war, I cannot control tears. Anne only wanted to be a normal teenager and dreamt of becoming a journalist...
We take the train from Amsterdam Centraal to Den Haag Centraal in the middle of the evening rush hour. Yet – we still find seats and can breathe comfortably. Everything seems to be running smoothly in this country. The Dutch seem to have combined German precision with its own creativity and quirkiness. People are relaxed and happy. And of course cycling seems to be the most popular form of transport; yet wearing a helmet does not seem to be widespread.

THURSDAY – GIRL WITH A PEARL EARRING AND THE JACKET

Our flight is late afternoon and we still have a few hours left to explore The Hague. The weather has changed drastically – it’s equally cold as on previous days, but the sun has disappeared behind thick grey clouds that sporadically break into rain. We stumble across a children’s shop where my daughter spots a green winter jacket just like the one she was looking for. Isn’t it also extremely lucky that the last one in the shop happens to be in her size? It’s a bright and stylish garment and not a bad souvenir for Made in Holland.
After a speedy and wet walk through the complex of the House of Parliament we reach the Mauritshuis. This museum hosts the big names of Dutch art of the 17th century; Rembrandt, Vermeer, Holbein etc… The famous Girl With A Pearl Earring lives here. My daughter is restless and uninterested; some paintings she finds scary, others plainly boring (still-lifes, church motifs and portraits of rich people of that time are not the most interesting themes in art for seven-year-olds). She stops only in front of Holbein’s portrait of Jane Seymour and cannot comprehend why the portrait of one of Henry VIII’s wives would be in Holland and not at home – in Britain?



Somewhere in the centre of The Hague – basically the first eatery that serves food before noon – we grab a toasted cheese panini and a crab soup and follow it up with a greedy XL portion of poffertjes. But these examples of the indulgent, delicious mini-pancakes that we have consumed in extreme amounts over our time in Holland do not taste anything like the ones from the supermarket; they are soggy, undercooked and floating in extreme amounts of melted butter and icing sugar. Shockingly disgusting! Between the two of us we manage to finish half of the 20-piece serving…
Travelling with hand-luggage only and a child is not for me. Each set of stairs and escalators – and they are many in airports – requires extreme forms of manoeuvring. With one hand you hold your child’s hand, with the other you carry your suitcase, at the same time balancing on one leg squeezed between impatient people who are pushing through from all sides. The distance between the plane and the terminal can be (and usually is) long and I would rather concentrate on my child then on tilting a suitcase with illogically moving wheels. And – yes, I would have liked to bring a few cans of Heineken back too…
In summary, Holland is an amazing place to bring children for a short break. Everything seems to be easy; from the simplicity of taking trams, trains and buses that never seem to be overcrowded, to entertainment options galore (and not just museums). Maybe that would explain why Holland has one of the highest birth rates in the EU…
And myself? Hm, now I am ready for an adult break in Amsterdam. Some of those restaurants and bars look awfully inviting…