Maastricht is one of those small university towns where the majority of the population are students or retirees. It has that Oxford feel to it, a beautiful and historic place filled with bustling youth. The city is so far south of the Netherlands, it is basically Germany. I stayed with a friend just outside of Maastricht in a place called Heerlen, which in his words, is the “boringest place on earth and only weird people live here“. And yet, there he was.
So we would take the train to Maastricht and once we got there he would locate his bike from the bike car park (only in the Netherlands) and begin peddling slowly whilst I attempted to jump on the insanely small back seat meant for shopping bags. I think he made me do that just to entertain himself.
One day, we were on the bus and we saw a man wearing a polka dotted pink suit. His town was strange indeed. We were both puzzled, but impressed by this man’s audacity. Later that day, my friend said, “Hop on my bike, I have a surprise for you”. Cool, I love surprises. We arrived at a massive exhibition space and everyone was dressed up. I’m not talking about the let’s-put-on-some-ears-and-call-it-a-cat dress-up. There were people with intricate costumes and detailed face paint, and I think I even saw Batman.
My friend said, “This is how out of the loop I am, I didn’t even know it was Elf day till someone mentioned it in class.” It was 11th November (11 is translated as Elf in Dutch) and Elf day was a time to throw a BIG party and get drunk in flamboyant costumes. Apparently, people drink so much beer, that by the end of the day, there is a 5-inch layer of squashed plastic cups on the floor. There is a special song they play at all Dutch festivals called Links Rechts by Snollebollekes and it involves everyone jumping left left left left…right right right right. Complex, I know.
One particular Sunday, we decided to ride our bikes the 16km to the Germanic town of Aachen. Kid’s work, I thought. Wrong. We were so far south of the Netherlands, the region basically adopted the hilly terrain of Germany. One thing about the Dutch – their cycling skills are unparalleled. Not only are they fast, but they most likely can ride hands-free. I tried – I almost fell into the bushes. When my friend was little, he would sit on the back of his dad’s bike and try to crawl around his dad’s torso whilst his dad was still pedalling. As we rode towards Germany, my friend asked me to spot the German/Dutch border. Easy, there will be a large sign saying “Welcome to Germany” and some border control officers waiting to check our identities. There was nothing of this sort. I think we crossed the border without even knowing it. So actually what my friend was saying was, “Help me locate the German/Dutch border because I can’t even find it myself.”
Here’s the trick that I discovered: look for changes in the bike path and the sudden appearance of many wind turbines. We also knew we were in Germany when all the shops were closed (it was a Sunday) and when we skipped a red light on a quiet Sunday afternoon, a women in her Volkswagen sped up next to us to make sure we knew we were breaking the rules. Gotta love the Germans.
*If you’re interested, Maastricht art prints can be found at my Etsy store!
Sylvestre Collective 