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At 09:00 the harbour master arrives on his golf buggy to collect our mooring fee of €7.50, half the advertised amount and a bargain considering the amount of electric heating we've used. Ali asks if there is a grey water dump here. "Yes", He says and races off on his cart. Phlegmatic islanders again. Next to the washblock is a drain so we drop our waste there and get on our way.
Just ouside Urk we stop for fuel. It's attendant service by a happy chap who 'charges for fuel but the singing is free'. Since he's working the pumps we top up on LPG as well, and get another two verses.
There is a short bit of motorway towards Lelystad, named after Lely, the inventor of the Zuiderzee project. We travel along wetlands, climbing to a long bridge where we have to stop while it opens for a sailing ship.
Just after Lelystad is another bridge, a large dock complex and a series of slucies. Pulling into the car park we can see 'Exposure', a statue of a squatting man by Antony Gormley. More interesting on the other side is the dyke road stretching across the water, brightly lit in the sunshine. Just down the road is a snack van so we grab a bit of Dutch fast food, kibbeling, which is fried fish with croquettes, gherkins and a blob of Russian salad, all very tasty.
The drive acros the inner dyke is very different from the big one last Saturday. This has no raised bank and is simply a two lane road sitting a few feet above the waters of the IJselmeer., so we can see water on both sides, but glancing from left to right or south to north the two 'seas' could not be more different. One is a deep, steely blue with white-topped waves foaming in the sunshine, the other is banded, jade and sand coloured and only slightly sploshy. Sailing ships and wind turbines are dotted about and in the far distance industrial plants billow steam. Because of its flatness this region is reknowned for 'big skies' and today various cloud formations highlight this dramatically.
We reach Enkhuizen which we have set as a via point and head into town, passing under. a concrete aquaduct as a barge sails above us. In town we see a large camperstop on the quay. Ali jumps out for a few photos, just in time to catch a flotilla of sailing ships with German schoolchildren arriving. The whole place is a buzz and, since we originally intended coming here yesterday we decide to stay.
The main harbour is full of traditional saiing barges, 80-100 ft long with two or three gaff rigged masts, bluff bows and, on their starboard sides, the huge steer-boards which gave their name to the right hand side of a ship. The quay is thronging with 600, 15-17 year olds all keen to be ashore after six days at sea.
Next we head towards town, past the inner harbour and over one of the many old skinny-bridges. The old town gate is an ornate, brick structure with a tall bell tower from which tinkly, quarter-hourly peals of bells ring out, to be repeated seconds later by the other tower in the distance.
We cross the canal, as yet more sailing barges approach, and find ourselves in deserted little streets of smart, brick houses. All the front windows look like your Granny's house; lace curtains, a planter or two and decorative lampshades in the middle of the room. All the woodwork on these houses is beautifully painted with smooth gloss. No blisters or evidence of wear over the years, and all the putty is coated white in contrast to the deep blues and greens of the frames. Many houses don't have numbers on the doors, but the family name painted in delicately scrolled signwriting.
Away from the pretty old-town we come across, first the maritime museum, the outside of which is clinker built plankwork with a warehouse style facade that leans out dramatically at the top. The second museum is the Zuiderzee Museum, telling the regions history and lifestyles. Both are closed this early in the year, but over the walls we can see the little town of wooden fisherman's cottages, boatyard and brick chimneys, presumably for processing fish.
We meander back through more quaint streets and along canals until we find a bar for a much needed coffee. Coffee is something the Dutch do very well. You ask for coffee, you get a cup of rich, steaming, brown, aromatic liquid with a biscuit or little chocolate egg as Easter is near. No 'Mokk-whocha-frizzy-latte-skinny-chino-spresso-cana' that hampers buying coffee in many places.
Warmed up for the journey back, we return to the van and watch the sunset as lights come on around the harbour, with many of the sailing ships lighting up their rigging.
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