← All articles · Netherlands · 26 November 2012

Rotterdam

A family day out in November 2012: the windmills of Kinderdijk in wind and rain, then Rotterdam's cube houses, a harbour tour and a car up a wall.

In November 2012 the Netherlands became a full family production: Dileep's parents and brother came along, and we gave them one grey, gusty Dutch day with two very different halves. Windmills first, then a city that looks like nowhere else in Europe.

The windmills of Kinderdijk

Kinderdijk sits a short hop southeast of Rotterdam: rows of eighteenth-century mills strung along the drainage canals, reed beds combed flat by the wind, and a dike path that offers no shelter whatsoever. It rained sideways. Nobody minded for long.

Historic brick windmills along a canal at Kinderdijk, with wooden sheds, reed beds and a paved path in the foreground — First sight of the mills, standing about like they own the place. They do.

A brick smock windmill with a small wooden shed on the far bank of a canal at Kinderdijk — Each mill sits on its own patch of green, with the canal for a moat.

Windmill sails rising above wind-blown reed plumes at Kinderdijk, a small board on the mill reading Anno 1740 — The board under the cap says Anno 1740. The reeds were mid-flight when we took this.

Inga in a fur coat and beret on a path at Kinderdijk holding an orange umbrella turned inside out, windmills on the skyline behind her — The orange umbrella lost its argument with the Dutch wind almost immediately. The sky apologised in pink.

Inga standing at the edge of a canal at Kinderdijk trailing an upside-down orange umbrella, a thatched windmill on the far bank — By the water the umbrella had been demoted to a prop. It made an excellent prop.

Inga and Dileep standing together on a dike path at Kinderdijk with windmills and reed beds stretching behind them — Windswept, damp, delighted.

Dileep in a grey rain jacket holding a Canon camera with a white telephoto lens, a line of Kinderdijk windmills fading into the distance behind him — Dileep brought the long lens. The mills queued up for it all the way to the horizon.

Dileep's parents standing side by side on a path in front of a large thatched windmill and wind-blown reeds at Kinderdijk — Dileep's parents claimed the biggest mill for their portrait.

Dileep's brother in a black and white jacket standing among reed plumes in front of a tall thatched windmill at Kinderdijk — Dileep's brother took the next mill over. There were plenty to go round.

Five Kinderdijk windmills silhouetted above pale reed beds under a soft dusk sky — By late afternoon the light went soft and the mills lined up for one last photo.

Rotterdam, the city that does things differently

Back in the city, old Holland stops abruptly. Rotterdam was rebuilt after the war and it shows off about it: we took a boat out among the container cranes of Europe's biggest port, then walked to Blaak, where the houses are yellow cubes balanced on their corners.

Inga and Dileep on the open deck of a harbour tour boat in Rotterdam, giant container cranes across the water behind them — Out on the harbour, where the scenery is measured in cranes. Rotterdam does not do quaint.

A red BMW perched on top of a glass gallery wall in front of an office block in central Rotterdam — Rotterdam's idea of street furniture: a red BMW parked halfway up a wall. We checked twice.

The tilted yellow cube houses at Blaak in Rotterdam, a long row of cubes balanced on concrete stalks above street level — The cube houses at Blaak. Somebody asked what would happen if a house stood on its corner, and Rotterdam said yes.

Inga in a dark fur coat standing on the pavement in front of the yellow cube houses at Blaak, Rotterdam — Inga, keeping a straight face under the least straight houses in the Netherlands.

Dileep and his brother standing side by side outside Blaak metro station in Rotterdam with the cube houses rising behind them — Dileep and his brother at Blaak, with the cubes photobombing from every angle.

One day, two Hollands: mills that have been holding back water since 1740, and a city that would rather balance a house on its corner than repeat itself. The family verdict was unanimous on both. For the older, canal-ringed version of the country, there is always Amsterdam.