getaway.co.za 97‘There’s nothing –
absolutely nothing – half
so much worth doing as
messing about in boats,’
said Rat to Mole in The Wind in the Willows, and he was on
the money. Boating is at once a motif of journeying and of
adventure, and there’s not much to beat a barging vacation
on the Continent. Think balmy days, wide-open spaces
and picture-perfection. No meetings, no calls, no stress and
minimal online interference, where the disconnect is real
and decisions come down to which wine to drink, where
to go next and where to find the cheese.
Over the years much has been written about self-drive
barging and, as options go, France’s popular Canal du Midi
usually hogs the limelight. The French offering is charming,
but there’s a new option on the horizon: Friesland – the
northernmost of the 12 provinces of Holland, located just
south of the Wadden Sea. Fryslân, as it’s also known, has staked
its claim as the Netherlands’ most unique region, a country
within a country, replete with its own official language,
namesake bovines and possibly the most endearing red ‘heart’
flag on the planet. At face value, it’s a quirky utopia where
the citizens, a jolly lot, are clearly winning at the good life.
Almost a quarter of habitable land in the Netherlands lies
below sea level and the rest only a little above it. The Dutch,
with marine culture in their DNA, have adapted spectacularly
over the centuries to the waterlogged flatlands they call home.
They also have more bodies of water than bread recipes – and
with a brood repertoire that rivals most pastry-proud nations,
that says a lot. Friesland weighs in with one of Europe’s densest
waterway networks, a multi-functional web of canals, streams,
ponds, rivers and lakes that connect communities and support
thriving micro and macro economies.
Four of us arrived in Hindeloopen to board our boat – myself
and three good friends, Karina Szczurek, Ruth Bösenberg and
John Maytham, whom we nominated as our captain. It didn’t
take long for us to get into the groove. As with Europe’s roads,
boaters keep to the right. Before long we’d found our rhythm,
gliding along at an unhurried two knots, flanked by fertile
pastures peppered with black-and-white Friesian cows,
windmills and a soft blue sky streaked with wispy contrails.Ruth Bösenberg
LEFT Cruising past the 11th-century Martinikerk (a combination
of Gothic and Romanesque architecture) in Sneek. During summer
organ recitals are often held inside the church.