Frequently (and inaccurately) referred to as it's two westernmost counties of Northern and Southern 'Holland,' the Dutch play host to some amazing architecture, artwork, food and some very amusing customs that have to be experienced to be truly appreciated; Queen's Day or Koninginnedag is one of them.
It wasn't my intention or goal to visit the city of Utrecht on April 30th, it was my goal to visit my friend Maaike six days after her birthday and hope that my trip sufficed as a worthwhile belated birthday present.
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Walking around both Utrecht and Amsterdam, the architecture was exactly like what I had seen painted on porcelain in blue ink on The Antiques Roadshow. Curly wave-topped houses with odd lumber posts jutting out from their fronts lined winding canals as if they were paved roads. After venturing up a very narrow staircase at a sixty degree incline in one of those houses to eat Pannenkoek, I understood exactly why those posts and pulley's were necessary prior to the invention of IKEA flat-pack furniture.
As the sun set that evening, my hostess pointed out the strange patchwork pattern that lined the streets, where people had staked out space for the evening festivities. Slowly the streets began to fill with vendors and party-goers of every age. Bands began to play and the vibrant color of orange was everywhere in several formats- as flowered leis, tee shirts, and even Elvis-style wigs complete with sideburns.
One of the traditions of Queen's Day is to turn the country into one great big flea market selling everything from the usual kitchenware and books to the more unique sale of compliments and lies. For 25 cents, a willing vendor in a ruffle collar shirt who curled his lip like 'the King' as he delivered a birthday compliment to Maaike.
After the compliment was paid for and received, we continued to walk through the city with beer in hand. There were cover bands, DJs and windows open with music pouring out, everywhere was a party and there were party-goers everywhere. Although I did see the occasional police officer, I never once saw anyone being arrested or even talked to by the authorities.
We had to make one more stop on our way back to her apartment; Maaike insisted that we had to get post-party food. She walked up to a fast food place and completely by-passed the counter and the queue and removed a few Euro coins from her purse and began depositing them in the wall. As I turned the corner to see that the entire wall was one giant vending machine, Maaike reached in and pulled out what looked like a mozzarella stick on steroids. She handed the first one to me and repeated the process and retrieved one for herself. To my surprise, the 'koquette' as she called it was not full of cheese but full of creamed meat and was to be eaten with mustard.
Finally tucking ourselves into bed at some random time in the wee small hours of the morning, I was delighted that my first trip to the Netherlands successfully avoided the stereotypical sites and experiences of tourists and got a glimpse of Dutch life that is only visible on that one day each year.
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