Over the weekend, me and some friends decided to drive out to the area around Keukenhof to see the famous Dutch tulip fields. We didn’t actually want to PAY to go into the gardens, which costs something like 16 euros and is perennially packed, so I didn’t know how much we were actually going to get to see, and my expectations were…not high.
I try to be an optimistic traveler, but when you’re adventuring, and you decide not to follow the nicely marked tourist signs, there’s always that risk that instead of discovering something new and fresh and fabulous, you’ll find yourself in the middle of unspectacular nowhere, faced with a long walk back to anywhere.
Lucky for us, this was one of those times when heading off the beaten track paid off. As soon as we neared Keukenhof, we began to see endless, shimmering fields of not only tulips, but daffodils and hyacinth. Every color of flower imaginable was fully in bloom, and we were able to drive directly down dirt roads into fields, and walk between the glossy rows.
We saw huge expanses of uniformly planted red and yellow tulips, as well as more specialized farms that cropped unusual and coyly rustling varieties. The fields were divided by the irrigating version of the canals Holland is so famous for, and occasionally, a boat of drowsy tulip watchers glided by, causing us to vow to procure one of these little vessels (which precisely bring to mind the craft immortalized in the ballad, “row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream…”) for ourselves.
Life did seem to be but a dream for at least a few of the tulip visitors we saw. We spent a few minutes watching one young guy in the distance that was making a concerted, and probably exhausting effort to frolic through the flowers, leaping high into the air one minute, before disappearing to, I imagine, crawl or roll amongst the blossoms. Clearly a dude intent on having his one-with-nature moment.
But of course, not all the tourists painted such a (goofily) idyllic picture. We saw a lot of people stomping out into the middle of a row of hyacinth to get that perfect shot, and as many couldn’t walk away without swiping a quick handful of soon-to-wilt souvenirs. Not that I can blame them. The tulips and co. were so incredibly abundant and brilliant that it was hard to imagine them being diminished even if every single tourist did feel compelled to grab their own piece of Dutch springtime.
I can’t imagine the cherry blossom season in Japan being more picturesque. As we walked among the rows, a windmill churned placidly in the distance, cyclists sailed by on the wide red paths that crisscross the country, and the strong spring breeze sent the for-some-reason-unexpected scent of flowers whirling around us. Not just the overwhelming hyacinth, but the unique fragrances of tulip and daffodil, that I don’t think I ever fully appreciated until I found myself surrounded by them in the millions.
By the time we had meandered out of tulip country, we were minutes away from the North Sea, so we headed to the long, sandy beach at Zandvoort for beers and frites and sunshine.
All in all, one of the best days I’ve spent outdoors in the Netherlands. I’m sure Keukenhof proper is amazing, but sometimes the best revelatory experiences can’t be bought for any price.
Thanks for the pics, Carrie!
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