As the taillights of the bus disappeared into the night, our small group of intrepid travelers was enveloped by darkness.  The bus driver's directions were simple enough.  "Walk 100 meters straight ahead, turn left and you can't miss your hostel".  Can't miss in Dutch apparently means you are now lost in a forest at midnight and have no clue where you are.   

Tempers were smoldering and barely controlled.  Everyone was tired, cold, wet (it was now beginning to rain) and starving.  The day before we had left Berchtesgaden in Southern Germany, taken a bus to Salzburg, Austria (biked the entire city), took a train to Munich, a sleeper train to Amsterdam, spent the day on a bike and boat trip of the city, had a margarita for dinner at a Dutch/TexMex restaurant, took a two hour train ride to Middleburg and finally an hour bus ride to Domburg.  If you think that sentence was exhausting to read, you can only imagine the trip. 

Carol and I were worried.  The weather was not cooperating, and we worried that everyone would  be bored because the area was too remote.  Even our Dutch acquaintances had never heard of Domburg.  Based on our internet research,  we had booked three nights lodging in Kasteel Westhove, a castle turned youth hostel, located a mile north of Domburg, Netherlands.  Reservations were made strictly because it was a castle and a relatively short train ride to Amsterdam for our flight home.  After our two week assault on Central Europe we wanted our trip to end with a positive experience, not a calamity of Biblical proportions.  Lost in the woods was not the climatic finish to a great vacation we had anticipated.  Fortunately, while debating what action to take, a local (Domburgian?) happened by and helped us find our way to the castle.

Situated on a peninsula in Southern Netherlands, Domburg is an off-the-beaten path destination for Americans.  While a popular vacation spot with the Dutch, the locals were often shocked to find Texans there.  The southern part of the peninsula is separated from Northern Belgium by the channel that goes east to the great port of Antwerp, Belgium.  Domburg is located on the coast in the center of the peninsula facing the North Sea.  The Netherlands is an extremely small country and is very densely populated.  The entire country could almost squeeze in between Austin and Houston.  In contrast, this area seemed almost rural, despite the fact that there are several small towns or villages.  Almost, but not all, roads are paralleled by an extensive system of hiking/biking paths. 

Our hostel was indeed a castle.  Built around 700 years ago, it was surrounded by a moat (someone fell in when we were there) and had turrets.  Perhaps not as opulent as Louis the XVI would have liked, for us commoners it was great.  A good night’s sleep and a full belly does wonders for your attitude andthe next morning, we all were ready to embark on a great explore.  Bicycles filled the small front courtyard.  Beyond the castle grounds, a field filled with flowers and a small pond created a fairy-tale like scene. Continuing on we rediscovered the forest from the previous night.   Hiking and biking paths meandered for miles in all directions.  Plunging ahead through the trees, we climbed a large levee, plodded through sand dunes and encountered a wide beach on the North Sea that ran as far as the eye could see. 

The back side of the castle had a small garden area with tables scattered around for relaxing, enjoying a beer or glass of wine as well as a bocce ball court.  It was a tranquil oasis at the end of a hectic vacation.

The hostel provided bikes with locks and we spent the next two days exploring the entire peninsula.  You could rent a car or walk, but if asked for a single impression of Domburg, it would be that everyone rode bikes everywhere.  Senior citizens, families with every contraption imaginable to haul infants and young children, tourists and serious competitive bikers were everywhere.  Do you realize what it does to your ego when an eighty year old couple with their four year old great grandchild blow by you like you are standing still?  People bike to the grocery store, they bike to town and they bike to the beach.  Both afternoons we spent some time on the beach.  What a shock!!!  Who ever heard of going to the beach in The Netherlands?  Terrific describes them best.  The sand was not white like Cancun, the water was not clear blue like the Caribbean but the beaches were broad, clean and ran for miles.  Chilly would be a kind description of water temperature, but the beaches were great for a picnic, throwing an aerobie or just relaxing.  Driving to the beach in a car is not recommended, because parking is almost non-existent.  Bikes (big surprise) get preferential treatment.  What an experience that was.  The first beach we visited we arrived earlier than most people and our bikes were the only ones in the bike stands.  When leaving a couple hours later, a conservative estimate would be our bikes were lost in the midst of a thousand bikes.   

We explored most of the peninsula in two days.  Sometimes we rode on the levees enjoying the view of the ocean and beach, other times we rode through forests and small picturesque villages, past windmills and even relics from World War II (tanks and bunkers).

Our biking exploits took us to quaint Veer (a recreational boater’s paradise) on the northeast coast of the peninsula to Vlissingen in the southeast.  Vlissingen seemed cold, dreary and damp and in retrospect it was cold, dreary and damp.  Also, affecting our attitudes was the primal urge of seeking food.  Fortunately, scattered periodically throughout the beach areas of the peninsula are "Strandpaviljoen" which in Dutch means "restaurant on the beach".  Three of the restaurants were just west of Vlissingen facing Belgium and the other four were in the Domburg area.  It may have been the fresh air and all the exercise, but our meal consisting of crab salad sandwiches, tomato and vegetable soup topped off with fresh fish exceeded our expectations.  Father west we stopped at the tiny village of Zoutelande.  I did not want to interfere with our exercise regime but everyone insisted on having dessert.  Being a good sport, I forced myself to devour a gigantic Belgium Waffle smothered with ice cream, strawberries and whipped cream.  Interestingly, most people were shoveling in these calorie-packed concoctions with gusto and yet virtually no one was chubby let alone fat.  Perhaps the lack of automobiles and the abundance of bikes provide the answer.

For dinner, a pleasant fifteen minute walk took us into Domburg.  Seafood dominated most menus and our dining experiences were quite satisfactory.  One restaurant, however, deserves special mention although not in a complimentary manner.  We had noticed Muchacha which advertised itself as a Tex-Mex Steakhouse.  Talk about excitement for a group of Texans who were suffering withdrawal after two weeks without fajitas and anything with tequila in it.  I boldly stepped forward and ordered two large margaritas.  Fifteen minutes later two huge pineapple and tuna pizzas appeared.  Not wanting to be "Ugly Americans" we explained that we thought margaritas were a drink, and that we were no longer hungry, then paid the stunned waitress and left.  This is the classic case of culinary cultural misunderstanding.

Fortunately, a roar from main street (Domburgseweg) distracted us from our dining disaster.  Dirt covered at least two blocks of the street.  Peering through the enthusiastic crowd, we observed several horsemen (and a few women) dressed in medieval costumes.  They were mounted on the biggest horses I had ever seen.  A modern day jousting tournament was beginning.  Instead of fighting one another, incredibly small rings hung from a high bar and the participants would charge forward on their trusty steeds to impale the rings with their lance.  The more accomplished riders rode with wild abandon and their rings measured no more than an inch in diameter.  Younger or less experienced jousters rode more slowly and had larger targets.  Nevertheless, witnessing centuries old traditions in another country provided good entertainment.

Domburg possesses no world famous landmarks.  Perhaps that is what we appreciated the most.  You felt totally comfortable and never intimidated as you would by large foreign cities and the attendant crowds.  Everything seemed vaguely familiar and yet different.  The relaxing pace of enjoying the beach, the ocean views and the breeze, hiking and biking through the beautiful pathways (Texas could learn from this), the hospitable hostel, the food and DESSERTS, the friendly people and finally, the ability to observe normal Dutch life as opposed to the chaos and bedlam of Amsterdam.  Planning the trip our primary goal was simply a decent bed within a couple hours of the Amsterdam Airport.  Instead, we discovered a terrific area of The Netherlands not usually visited by Americans.  This is Serendipity---finding something special when you least expect it.

**All Photos by Don Miller

If You Go

Stayokay Domburg

www.stayokay.com

phone:  31 (0) 118 581 254

email:  domburg@stayokay.com

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