The Fishing Village of Marken

On the hottest day of our entire holiday we took a passenger ferry to the quaint fishing village of Marken. Located on a peninsula in the IJsselmeer, in the municipality of Waterland in North Holland. This involved first taking a tour bus from Amsterdam and then transferring onto the ferry, which was named "Volendam', at a small town called Monnickendam.

When we went to Daam Square in Amsterdam to catch our bus, having already purchased the tickets the day before, we discovered that the English speaking bus had accidently been oversold. This meant that we, along with an American couple, were placed on another tour bus filled with Italians. (In peak summer times tour buses are divided into languages to make it easier for the guides who then need to only give the tour in one language at a time.) Thus it was that we set off with about forty gesticulating, chattering Italians; a very merry, friendly crowd ... but LOUD!

They would quieten down somewhat when the guide stood up and spoke in Italian, but when she switched to English for our benefit, forget it. We couldn't hear a thing she was saying. After about a half hour, Ariana noticing the volume, said, "Nana, I wish those people could be more quiet." The guide, a lovely Dutch woman, made her way up the aisle to apologise and offered us head phones which could be plugged into the seat rest to listen to a recorded version of the tour.

The family directly in front of us possessed an eight year old son, named Carlito. This little imp spent the entire tour, inside the bus and out, being alternately scolded and praised. One moment he was being smothered in kisses, the next, smacked on the side of the head. He spent the journey constantly jostling between his seat beside his mother to across the aisle with his father and teenage brother. Fed numerous snacks and drinks, he was chastised for throwing the wrappers and spitting pop. Needless to say, we got to know Carlito rather too well during the course of the day! Ariana, although the same age, was a complete contrast, sitting and speaking quietly and politely. I was very proud when both the tour guide and the American couple praised her!

We opted to sit in the uncovered section and the ferry ride took about twenty-five minutes. The deep azure blue sky and sea melded together in an unending blue. Small sailboats were dotted everywhere. As the sun was so intense, we slathered ourselves in sun tan lotion, wore our sun glasses and drank lots of water.

The authentic fisherman's houses in the village are all made of wood, and painted a vivid green, which is traditional for the area. They were also built on stilts to avoid the tides during the long ago days before the 2K dyke around Marken was constructed.

After touring the old part of the fishing village as a group, we had two free hours before we all had to meet up again at the ferry for the return trip.

The cutest little house in Marken.

A tree covered with wooden shoes.

We had lunch at this charming pub looking out onto the harbour of fishing boats. Gordon and I had delicious fish and chips with beer. Ariana chose chicken croquettes and chips. She had her usual iced tea, but noted, "This is my first bar!" Papa explained the difference between a pub and a bar, but she still felt the delight of the 'forbidden'. "Wait until I tell my Mom and Dad I went in a bar!", she exclaimed.

This souvenir shop below was originally a house belonging to a Marken lady named Sijtje Boes, who began a business of selling souvenirs in the early 1900s. It was the nicest gift shop we visited during our holiday; high quality, reasonable prices, and beautiful, interesting decor. Here we bought T-shirts for everyone back home, plus one for Ariana.

I also adored the gorgeous tablecloths and tapestries with their exquisite workmanship. I purchased a small white one with scalloped lace edging and also a traditional blue and white one.

Ariana enjoys trying out stilts in the children's play area.

Papa took this picture of an old fashioned bakery in Marken, in memory of his father, who was a baker all his working life which started at the age of fourteen.

Relaxing with a sculpture of a fisherman before heading back to the ferry.

On the return trip on the bus back to Amsterdam, Gordon chatted with the American couple now sitting near us, while Ariana and I napped together. He had difficulty convincing the couple, who were from Atlanta, Georgia, that Belgium was a whole separate country from Holland. They had tour tickets for Belgium for the following day. It wasn't until the tour guide confirmed this fact that they finally believed him!