The sun is shining but with only 4°C it’s cold when I leave my car at a parkinglot on the edge of the village Epen in the very south of the Netherlands, the hills of South Limburg. Going around the corner this days’ hike starts with a hollow road which ends in front of a vakwerkhuis. A few minutes later I’m walkin through fields with a stunning view in front of me. Two other hikers make their way across the fields in the distance and I linger a bit to let them disappear. I like to walk alone.
Hollow Road
After a short walk on a roadside. Cross a bridge, turn left and find myself on a narrow and muddy path that leads me through fields northwards along the river Geul.
The Geul is the best known river in South Limburg. It has its source in Germany, is 56km long and flows also through a part of Belgium. Due to the large difference in altitude, 242 meter at beginning and end, it is the quickest flowing river in the Netherlands.
It’s only been a few months since this now calmy flowing river flooded large parts of the region I’m walking in due to heavy rainfall, destroying everything on its path. Today nothing reminds of those horrible days and I am treated on spectacular views on a gorgeous sunny day.
After an hour I arrive at Mechelen and decide to treat myself on coffee and a piece of ‘kersenvlaai’, cherry pie in Limburg, on a sunny terrace. Temperature is slowly rising!
Leaving Mechelen the path leads me through a series of meadows and fields again. I hear churchbells in the distance and come across a family of curious cows who I quietly pass.
The Elzetter Forest appears in the distance and I am reminded to keep my focus on my navigation when I miss the narrow path on the right at a crossroad and take the wide road on the left. I have to turn back.
The walk through the forest is wonderful. The tall trees on this hillside forest are starting to change color, the leaf covered path up and down is sometimes challenging and the silence is overwhelming. This is what I came here for.
After leaving the forest a steep, narrow and hollowed out path leads me back down to the fields along the Geul, this time further south and southwards close to the Belgium border. The fields are muddy and I sink almost ankle deep into it, but I manage to keep my feet dry.
Where a small bridge crosses the river the path leads back northwards in the direction of Epen. In my case this included a little detour due to me being distracted.
Finally on the right track again I come across the Volmolen, a watermill, built in the 17th century and rebuild in 1880 after being destroyed by fire.
A walk across fields and meadows leads me back to Epen where the hollow path that was the beginning of this beautiful hike brings me back to my car.
This is a long post about the first hike in September 2020, but to me this tough hike represents the turning point in a very difficult period in my life, a point where I finally started to get out of my head. So it deserves some attention.
Puy de Peyre Arse
When my brother, SIL and I went on (a corona proof) vacation to France in september 2020 I hadn’t read a book that year at all. Being an avid reader that means something is not okay and one of my goals in France beside getting my head clear was to start reading again. The first book on my list was ‘Wild’ by Cheryl Strayed. Wild is the story of a young woman who goes on a 1700 km solo hike on the Pacific Crest Trail in the USA when she is at the lowest point of her life. It’s a hellish journey, emotional and physical, with a big and heavy backpack (aptly called Monster), but in the end it has made her stronger than she ever was before. Although I hadn’t finished the book at that time it already helped me during the first hike: the Tour de Peyre Arse. A medium difficult hike, as the description said, but I’m not sure I want to know what a difficult hike is after this day ….
A Puy is a mountain of vulcanic origin and the Puy de Peyre Arse in the Auvergne is one of the highest mountains of the Monts du Cantal, with the summit at 1806 mtr.
The starting point of the 15 km trail is at the Col de Serre at an altitude of 1364 mtr. The trail starts at the Nature Station with an easy 3 km path, gradually climbing to the Col d’Eylac at 1460 mtr, parallel to the main road. It was a nice day, sun was shining, sky was blue and the surroundings amazing, simply a great day for a hike…..
Follow trail 41
And then there was a gate…… And everything changed once we got through it…..
The path on the other side of the gate was completely different. It was small and steadily going uphill along the slopes of the Puy Mary. The mountain side was on the right and to the left we had an amazing view on the Vallee de l’Impradine.
It was also a slippery, muddy path, wet from being in the shadow at the northeast side of the mountain and I remember thinking I was glad we were going up since going down seemed tricky. Little did I know what we were up to later that day.
La Vallée de l’Impradine
Gradually the path got wider and lead us to the ‘Brèche de Roland’ , a break between the Puy Mary (1783mtr) and the Puy de Peyre Arse (1806 mtr) at approximately 1600 mtr.
Walking over the ridge between the two mountains, with the spectacular views at the Vallee de la Jordanne on the right and the Vallee de l’Impradine on left side of it was awesome and gave an overwhelming feeling. It felt like standing on top of the world.
Vallée de la Jordanne
Vallée de l’Impradine
From the Brèche de Roland the Puy de Peyre Arse was right in front of us. The path towards the summit was steep, rocky, got smaller when we climbed higher and disappeared altogether when a big rock made it impossible to go further. The only way was to go back and take an almost invisible foot width ‘path’ on the west side of the mountain. It took us 1 hour to cover the 1,5 km ‘path’ from the Brèche de Roland to reach a wide spot about 10 meters under the summit.
Resting place at the Puy de Peyre Arse
We used that place to take a break, eat a bit and enjoy the spectacular sight. Meanwhile we looked for the path at the other side of the mountain that would lead us downward to the Col de Cabre, and found out there was no path! At least not the first meters. The only way to go downhill was to let yourself slide down, holding a trekkingpole in one hand and holding on to whatever there was to hold on to with the other hand.
After 20 meters a small, rocky path became visible, which lead us downhill to the Col de Cabre (1528 mtr) and then to the left through the Vallee de la Santoire, which finally seemed a flat part, seen from above.
Vallée de la Santoire
The path down reminded me of the first part of the path of the Samaria Gorge on Crete, a steep downhill path which takes 2,5 hours to cover. Big difference with the current path: on Crete there was a fence to hold on to and it was at the beginning. Here in the Cantal mountains there was no fence and this part of the trail came at the end. It was a constant struggle to stay upright, to find the best part to put your feet and avoid slipping away.
Seen from above I thought it would get easier once we had arrived at the Col de Cabre and go left through the valley, but boy was I wrong! It only got harder. If you think going uphill is hard, try going downhill in 45° angle when you’re tired and your legs burn and scream for a rest and it seems like to go on forever ….
Two hours (and 4 km) after we left the summit of the Puy de Peyre Arse we arrived at a very small village, La Gravière. From there it was only 4 km back to the car, but it was late afternoon and we were tired. We also knew that it would take at least 1 1/2 hour to walk the 4 km to the car. We decided to try to get a taxi back to the Col de Serre. Luckily a few locals (somehow I think it was the mayor) were sitting chatting on a bench in the town square. You should have seen their faces when I asked (hurray for french classes in highschool) where we could call for a taxi. A taxi??!! Non non, not available in this part of the region, and letting one come from a larger place would be way too expensive. But, these friendly people came with another solution: one of the inhabitants had a squad and could bring one of us to the car on the Col de Serre who could then return to pick up the others. Guess who was the lucky one to drive with the man? Yup, since I was the only one who speaks french, I would go with him. Luckily the squad was not the four wheel thing where you sit behind the driver, but a mini-pickup. That being said, the whole route to the Col de Serre was uphill and the small vehicle was groaning and puffing and it even smelled like something was burning. But…. we got safely to our car and I returned to the village to pick up the others.
In hindsight the trail was too much for us and we should have chosen a less difficult one. But although we may not have finished the whole trail (better safe than sorry) we did what we did. It doesn’t come close to what Cheryl Strayed achieved with her journey on the PCT, but it was an amazing adventure. And more important, this hike helped me the way her journey helped her: this difficult trail let me focus so intense on what I was doing that I forgot the worries and troubles. I slowly started to find myself back again and this hike was the beginning ……
Before January is coming to an end I’ll take some time to look back on 2020. That year was probably the darkest year of my life, and NOT because of Covid. As I wrote in a previous blog our family was confronted with severe mental health issues of our son in 2020 and we are still (trying to) deal with it. Trying, because after all these months I still struggle with it enormously.
I also wrote that I felt we were slowly climbing out to the light. Well I was wrong, we hadn’t hit rockbottom at all! It got worse and made us feel pretty desperate.
I’m grateful for all the help he gets from care givers these past months, but as a parent we feel a bit left out in the proces. I’ve always tried to lend an ear to whatever problem my children had and this situation was no exception. But to listen to the same story, worries and troubles over and over again is a whole new thing. How to handle suspicion and anger, doubts about therapy and his own mental abilities? What to say when the other one doesn’t want to live anymore? And how to behave when there is someone in your house who hardly speaks and shows nothing but anger?
Photo: Google
The whole situation took its toll on me and I knew I needed to do something about it to prevent me falling apart. And although it wasn’t easy I decided to literally leave everyone behind and go to France in September for a corona-proof hiking vacation with my brother and SIL.
I have a professional person with whom I talk once or twice a month about all the troubles and he already told me I needed to distance from the situation by claiming more time for myself but that is easier said than done when you all live in the same house. Going to France however would literally mean creating distance between me and the ‘problem’ and I knew hiking could give me more peace of mind.
It turned out to be THE BEST decision of 2020. I will tell about the hikes in other blogs but they did what I hoped they would, I got out of my head and found peace of mind again, and it rekindled my passion for walking.
Puyde Peyre Arse(Auvergne)
In hindsight the whole situation at home has taught me a lot about (dealing with) mental illlness and about myself. We’re not even close to an end to this situation and it’s not easy to realise that he can’t always control the anger and suspicion and that it simply happens to him but by distancing myself mentally I can handle it better. That doesn’t mean distancing from the person but from the situation and there are a few things that help me.
I use mindfulness to delve into memories that give me a good feeling, reliving them almost from hour to hour and thus taking my mind away from the worries. The roadtrip to Scotland in 2016 with friends I met on Twitter has been an anchor that helped me through the darkest moments. Long walks, usually on Sundays, help me boost my energy and clear my mind, while enjoying nature’s beauty. I also read a lot, listen to music from my youth (going down memory lane) and try to make time for creative hobby’s.
Furthermore I learned how important it is to talk about it with other people . I’m grateful to have family, friends and people at work who I can trust outside of my family at home. Especially the chats with far away but very close friends help me on a daily basis. Sharing my troubles with them doesn’t solve the problem, but helps to make the burden less heavy.
It’s July, the year 2020 is halfway through, which seems a good time to look back upon the first half.
If ever I had expectations before it started it definitely turned out completely different, but with Covid-19 to deal with, that goes for all of us. However, I could never ever have imagined it would get worse than that.
What do you do as a parent when a child completely loses grip on the world and life? What do you do when trust is broken and the consequences of actions are so desastrous and violent that you only wish for your child to leave and never come back? That you even take actions that no parent ever wants to take, but that are the only solution to the problem?
Well, I know the answer now, but I can only speak for myself, because it’s the hardest thing I ever did in my life and I know not everyone can do it. The only way to justify it was to keep telling myself that I didn’t do it to punish. It was done out of love and protection. Because there are more people in this family, people who need a good place to live, a safe place. But most of all it was done to help.
When bad things happen people often ask themself why it happens to them, what did they do wrong? Why can’t they have a normal life, like everyone else? I was no exception to that rule. I never experienced the amount of mixed emotions on a daily basis like I did these past months. Anger and grief caused sleepless nights and exhausting days. Many times I wished I never had had children at all and couldn’t care less if I never saw my child again. But then memories popped up, of vacations, holidays and birthdayparties, of the moments that make a mother’s heart swell with joy and pride. Those memories left me in tears, desperately wishing I could turn back time and make this all go away, which, of course, is impossible. What’s done is done, you have to deal with it.
And then that same child needs your help, despite everything that happened and went wrong. And what do you do then? Do you let recent events set the course, or do you see the child as it used to be. The child you know, is still somewhere inside. The child you nursed and loved and helped through so many difficult moments in life.
Well, you open the door, set rules, make agreements and you take it back into your home, because, like author Diana Gabaldon once wrote: “Home is where they have to take you in”.
That decision wasn’t easy, oh no! My attitude was far from loving and caring, and when setbacks occurred I almost kicked my child out, again! But that last setback, that last horrible day seems to have been a turning point. For the first time in months there was honest talk, honest regret and insight that something needed to be done to turn this awfull situation into a positive outcome.
And steps were taken. Medication, therapy, rules, talking and (even more) listening! There is lots of talking and listening, and mostly I’m involved. The timing of talking is not always convenient, and it’s often a challenge to sit down calmly and listen, but I know how important it is. For both of us, yes for both. It’s important for the proces of healing and restoring faith. Faith that we will get through this together. Faith that it will turn out for the better.
Now, a few weeks later and after hitting rockbottom, it feels like we are slowly climbing up to the light, one small step forward at a time (and sometimes a step back) but up. Every good day is a good day added to the list of good days. We’re not there yet and it will still take a lot of time and patience, but there is hope that in the end we are able to say that this very bad time eventually turned out to a good outcome.
When I started to cough a little bit more, sneezed too often to blame it on the weather and started to feel less and less well last Friday I knew the time of working, isolation and social distancing was over and had to be changed into quarantine. The efforts to prevent becoming ill hadn’t worked and although the symptoms don’t necessarily mean I would test positive I need to act like I have.
For now it means no visit at all to my mum. Though she’s vital and in good health she’s also 87 and has a heart condition. Fortunately she understands the severity of this virus and takes every precaution necessary to prevent from getting infected. I couldn’t be more grateful for that.
I had to call in sick from work, something I haven’t done in the past 10 years, and if it had happened during normal times I never would have done so at all. But rules and regulations are to be followed. I said it so many times before. It’s my turn now.
At home I have to practice social distancing as if I’m living on an island, to prevent my hubby and 2 adult sons, who live at home, getting ill. Both boys are strong and healthy, but hubby suffers from severe COPD and that means I could be a major threat to his health.
Social distance at home means I have my own corner in the livingroom, sleep in a seperate bedroom, am never together with anyone else in the kitchen or any other room and we have sanitizing handgel and cleaning wipes on every floor. I perferably wear long sleeves to keep me from touching door handles, light switches and stair railings.
Being mindful has helped me a lot these past weeks to be aware of how often one touches his/her face and contactpoints. I don’t think my hands and house have ever been as sterile as in these days. It all may sound exagerated, but these days I follow the saying: “better safe than sorry” to the letter!
It’s Monday now and I’m feeling better than Saturday which was a really bad day, but at least I had no fever. This morning I called the doctor’s office and was told to stay at home until 24 hours without symptoms have passed. After that I am allowed to go out again and eventually work. I will not be tested, not even with a vulnerable person in my close vicinity. The symptoms are not severe enough. Of course the latter is a good thing, but we will never know if I had a mild form of the virus or that it was just the flu.
And while we remember better days, we keep our distance, wave at eachother and blow a kiss, and hope that this soon will be over.
Last Sunday I went for a walk. Not the first time this year and it reminds me that I need to post some photos and info from my other walks this year (I wanted to write a blog after each walk but so far that didn’t work out).
The walk felt a bit strange. I usually go out on my own for a walk on Sunday and last Sunday was no exception to it. What made it different was the fact that I was wondering if I will be allowed to go out for a Sundaywalk the following week also.
In this troubled and worrying time, with the Corona virus spreading globally around, I already try to avoid most and close contact with other people outside of my family, but I think there are way more measures necessary to keep the threat contained. The time for appeal to common sense is over, we need clear decisions and vigor. With my husband (severe COPD) and my mother (heartcondition) in the high risk group I get very angry when people keep saying it’s just like the flu and keep doing what they always do.
My walk last Sunday was a nice one, through The Malpie, a region with wet heather and fens. Let’s hope I can soon walk there again with a less heavy mind and soul.
At the moment we’re still allowed to go out and I will be walking tomorrow. Walk while I have the freedom to do it.
When Walking Peakers join for a walk somewhere in the Netherlands usually the host of that day has walked the route before and knows a bit about the region we’re walking in. But a few weeks ago our host had to cancel her guiding due to personal reasons. We decided to walk anyway, only had to come up with an alternative route in short time. Since I live close to the province we were supposed to go for our walk (Limburg) I decided to see what I could come up with. I found a route that sounded promising but had no time to check out for myself. In the end there were three of us who met at the starting point near Afferden for a 12 km walk in Nature Park De Maasduinen. The weathergods blessed us with a day without rain and a nice temperature and it turned out to be a beautiful and surprising walk.
De Maasduinen is a region with dunes stretching out along de river Maas in the north of the province Limburg. The course of the river, the wind and mankind are resposible for the way it looks these days.
Our walk took us through woods of oaks and pines, over the heather (which didn’t bloom anymore at his time of the year) and of course through dunes. The views were breathtaking, fall showed its beauty in many colors and we were so flabbergasted by the abundance of enormous mushrooms that we called this ‘The Mushroom Walk’.
Since we were such a small group this time and because we had a weekend without walking on our walkingcalendar we decided to plan this route again at the end of november to give others a chance to join in. No need to say that I don’t mind at all!!
This time 3 weeks ago I was on the eve of a long awaited and highly anticipated journey, walking the West Highland Way with my oldest son. Sadly it didn’t go as planned. I had to stop after walking 4 days and 96 km due to painful knee issues. It was a tough decision, and my son and I were both very disappointed. Since all our accomodations were booked we decided to stay in Scotland and make the best of our time while being there.
It took some time to get over the disappointment and appreciate what we did accomplish. We walked 96 km, mostly on tough terrain, often wondering if we had missed a sign because there seemed to be no path at all. (Well, we actually did miss a sign on the last day, but that was due to bad weather.) We saw amazing vistas, and I’m so very happy I took the time to take pictures, even when pain was dominating the fourth day. They will make a great photobook. We met nice people, had nice chats and enjoyed tasty food. And although it was raining a lot after we officially ended our walk, we were able to explore the surroundings where our accomodations were on short walks. After all Scotland’s beauty is everywhere.
And who knows, maybe the way this journey ended was a sign. A sign to show me I hadn’t be true to myself. That I was focussed too much on the goal instead of the journey from the beginning, despite everything I had said about it. I joined My Peak Challenge in 2017 mainly because of the charity part and setting goals or challenges were not my thing, like I wrote in a previous blog. And yet I let myself get tempted to set a challenge, because when I’m really honest to myself, that is what this was, a challenge. I should have known better and stayed closer to myself, to who I am: someone who takes life and its events as it comes. Life itself offers enough challenges without me adding an extra one.
So here I am, I managed to walk halfway the West Highland Way, from Milngavie to Tyndrum creating beautiful memories along that path, no one can take that away! And who knows, maybe I can walk the remaining kilometers next year. If not, well, so be it. Que sera sera!
Finally the day I have been looking forward to for so long has arrived. In only 7 hours my son and I will be on our way to Scotland. And on Wednesday our longdistance walk will begin: Walking the West Highland Way from Milngavie to Fort William. Suitcases and backpacks are packed, and boarding passes are ready.
When I started writing this blog I was in a not so happy mindset, a lot of negative and bad things had happened, and had taken a lot of my joy and excitement away. As simple as they were the items I wrote about helped me to get that back. This little written journey towards my big journey showed me again why I chose to do this and what I was looking forward to: finally return to Scotland and enjoy the beautiful scenery of one of the most amazing places there, the Scottish Highlands. And so excitement is building. And with it also came a little bit fear. Will I really be able to do this, will my body allow me to complete this journey. I always say we can do more than we think and age is just a number. Will I be able to prove I’m right? Well, there is no turning back now, and even if there was I would never do it. And I guess it’s normal to get a bit scared shortly before a dream comes true, like this quote states:
Only 5 days to go and I’ll be on my way to Scotland, to walk the West Highland Way. A little over 200 days ago I definitely booked everything necessary for this walk and have since then gathered the equipment I need for this journey.
The first thing I did, after deciding to walk the whole Way, was to buy a good pair of walking/hiking shoes. After excellent examination and advise in specialised store Het Loopcentrum in Horst (Limburg) (https://www.hetloopcentrum.nl/wandelen/ ) I came home with a pair of shoes that fit like a glove, and combined with good socks they have so far taken me many kilometers without pain or blisters. Gradually also other equipment founds its way to our home. A decent backpack, walkingtrousers, raingear and various clothing amongst others. And of course books and maps.
When I told my kids about my plan I could never have expected that I would end up booking the trip not only for myself but for a plus one as well. A few days after my announcement my oldest son came up to me and said he wanted to join me on that walk. It nearly blew me off my feet when I heard it! Although both my kids have always been active in sports (judo, soccer) and my oldest son always had a job that is fysical straining, long walks were definitely not their greatest hobby. And now one of them wanted to walk 154 km!
Photo: Google
His explanation was that he had been thinking of his youth lately (he’s 26 at the moment) and especially of our holidays in France. We all have great memories of those vacations on a campsite near Castellane in the south of France, but somehow every year there was more than one day where things didn’t go smooth, easy and relaxed, and to be honest often he was to blame for it. The journey by car took too long, some of last year’s friends weren’t there, he didn’t like what was on the menu and so on. It left him grumpy and angry, me frustrated and angry and more than once I threatened to go home if he didn’t change his attitude. In the end we always stayed, and had great vacations. Fact is that he always came to apologise and, knowing my children, I know his apology was honest. Somehow certain situations left him out of control over his emotions and reason, causing him to get angry, yell and say things he didn’t mean. It took quite a few years for him to learn to deal with it. And with it came realisation that certain things can’t be undone.
Now, at the age of 26, and hearing my plan, he thought a lot of those moments. How he regrets to have ‘ruined’ one or more days every vacation and that he can never change that. And although I told him that growing up is never easy for children AND parents, and that we knew this when we became parents, he wanted to join me on this walk to create a joyful memory to look back on for both of us. His explanation moved me deeply. But, as touching as it was, I gave him time to think it over until November. In November I would start looking for an organisation to book a tour and if he still wanted to come with me at that time we would go together.
And we will go together! He didn’t change his mind, he got more determined to go. Looked things up on the internet about the West Highland Way, saw the beautiful photos from other walkers and got more and more enthusiastic. So, almost 200 days ago, I booked the tour for both of us, arranged flighttickets to Glasgow and transfer from and to the airport when we are in Scotland. And after that we got all the necessary equipment for him as well. We also went for long walks together in the neighbourhood. Not exactly the same conditions as in the Highlands, but determination and persistance to do this are just as important. And now we are both counting down untill we will finally be on our way next Tuesday.
When I went for a walk on Sunday 10 February of this year the weather was as grey and gloomy as my mood. Only 10 days prior to this day our world was shattered by the devastating message that our youngest son’s girlfriend, our daughter-in-law, had suffered multiple strokes after a succesful surgery to remove an aneurism. It had left her, at the age of 22, completely paralysed and unable to speak. Like a prisoner in her own body.
Photo: Google
A whole range of emotions passed by that first week, sadness, disbelief, despair, anger, hopelessness and many more. We spent many hours at the hospital’s ICU, together with her family and our son, to be there, to give some comfort. But what can you say when even professionals don’t know what to do or predict. What do you say when your child cries in your arms and asks why this happens, when he finally found a sweet girl to spend the rest of his life with….
And of course THE big question: how could this happen after a perfect and succesfull surgery? No one could and no one can answer this, and what made it more devastating was that not one doctor could give a prognosis for the future if she survived the first critical week. Would she ever be able to move again? To talk again? Or would she stay in a vegetative state? Only time could tell….
Like I said, when I went out for my first walk, 10 days after this all happened, the weather was like my mood, grey, gloomy and it rained. It was raining when I went out the frontdoor for a walk in the neighbourhood, and it kept raining almost the entire time, rain mingling with my tears, as if the sky was crying like I was.
Four months went by since that walk and a lot happened since then. And so far all positive. Our daughter-in-law survived the critical days, swelling in her brain slowly disappeared and to everyone’s surprise moving became possible. A foot could be lifted from the bed, a hand tried to squeeze, a smile, every little muscletwist was a big step. Slowly more and more was possible, due to intense therapy in a rehab center and her own persistance. As I write this she is able to walk with aid, she can take care of her personal hygiene and she talk.
A very important milestone was when she was able to type on her laptop and could finally connect to the world by herself. Because she couldn’t move and talking was impossible due to a breathingtube, until that moment she had been dependent on cards with letters which someone else would hold up and point at while she used her eyes to say yes or no if the letter was correct or not, thus forming words. Very timeconsuming and frustrating, but the only way to ‘say’ what was on her mind. Her eyes were literally her only way to communicate and her only connection to the world for more than 80 days! Not long after she was able to use her laptop she started a blog to share what happened to her. You can follow her blog here: https://mijngrootstenachtmerrie.com
Knowing all that, it’s needless to say that I am still overwhelmed by joy that I was part of her ‘conspiracy’ to bring her over to our hometown last week for a surprise visit at the soccerfield, where our son was participating in a tournament. While he was under the impression that she was going to visit her parents and that I went out for a walk, I drove to the rehab center, picked her up and drove back. The look of surprise and joy on his face was priceless. During the rest of that day he drove her around in her wheelchair, played his games, let her meet their friends again after a long time, and simply enjoyed having her there. The day ended with a backstage visit to one of the singers at the eveningparty, and festivities at the front row during his performance, in the company of friends.
Photo: Google
I drove back home late that evening after bringing her back to the rehab center, tired but utterly happy and grateful that I could do this for them. They still have a long way to go, but her persistance, his support and their love for eachother will get them through in future days to come as it did in these past months.
When I drove to Flevoland the first time, late October 2018, I was under the impression it would be a one time thing only, accompany a Peaker on one of the legs of her challenge. Little did I know it would be the first of many early morning drives to join a group of Dutch Peakers for a walk.
It was still dark when I left home at 6:30 am on that Sundaymorning and after a 2 hour drive, and picking up another Peaker halfway, we arrived at the starting point near Elburg, a parkinglot near a Beachclub. It was a chilly morning and we were craving for coffee and in need of a restroom and neither was available, since the Beachclub was closed. Until the owner appeared and we decided to give it a go and asked if we could please please have a cup of coffee. Shortly after he returned with coffee and even let us use the restroom, showing that hospitality and kindness still exist.
I have no idea what I expected from this walk. Of course I looked forward to this meetup and activity with other Peakers. And the 20 km walk would be a next milestone in distance, since, until then, a 16 km walk during a one-day visit to Istanbul and a 16 km downhill hike through the Samariagorge on Crete were the longest. I can only say that when I drove home I knew this was the first but definitely not the last part of the dykes I had walked! A long story short: in the end I drove 6 consecutive times to Flevoland for a walk over the dykes, a total of about 120 km for me. And I was not the only one. There was always a group of Dutch Peakers, varying from 2 – 10 to accompany our friend on her challenge. The total distance was 190 km, devided in 9 walks, of about 20 km each.
After the chilly start we were blessed with a gorgeous sunny day during our first walk. And even November let us mostly walk in sunny circumstances, chilly but sunny. It was as if the elements thought we needed to be tempted to come more often, which was completely unnecessary. We walked, regardless of the weatherforecast. Sun, rain, wind or cold, it didn’t matter. In fact, to me, sometimes the weathercircumstances added something extra to a walk. Afterwards it felt as if I had conquered an extra element. And I always drove home with a feeling of immense content, physically tired, but mentally revived and energised.
The surroundings were absolutely amazing. I never thought there would be so much variety in landscape while walking on or alongside a dyke. The southeastside and southside of Flevoland are slightly wooded and across the water the other shore is visible. Here we passed a lot of campsites on the shore and small and bigger towns on the other side. Flevoland is a flat province with wide open space and the more westward we walked the more the large energy generating windmills dominated the dykes. It’s a sight that is not to everyones liking but somehow they fit in this landscape, although I can understand that people living in close proximity don’t agree with me. They cast a giant shadow and are very noisy!
Along the westside and northwest side of Flevoland one side is dominated by the IJsselmeer, with sometimes a glimpse of Amsterdam across the water. Although the weather still treated us with sunshine, the winds were stronger and extra warm clothes became a necessity. Eventually November showed its true face. Our walk on the westside, through the Oostvaardersplassen, was a real challenge in itself. It was a grey and sometimes misty day, with temperatures just above 0°C that felt freezing due to the cold wind from the north blowing in our face, and stops were as short as possible to prevent from getting too cold. A deep sigh was heard when we finally reached the other side of the dyke where we found at least some shelter from the cold wind. On our walk along the northwest side rainprotection was needed, but on our last part, that ended where our Peakerfriend’s journey began, we were again blessed with a cold but sunny day.
Like I said before I never expected so much variety in landscape along these dykes. Whether it’s a landscape with forest, campsites and harbours or meadows, distant towns, or the vast open space of the IJsselmeer and the Oostvaardersplassen, each has their own charm. Combined with the uplifting company of friends it was a unique experience in every way. Challenges were accomplished, limits were pushed, elements were conquered and friendships were formed. But most of all, it was pure joy to be in the presence of a group of likeminded people, who were (sometimes) strangers at first but became friends along the way.
After all these Sundaywalks together we realised that we would miss these walks very much once the challenge was accomplished, and started thinking of continuing walking with groups of Dutch Peakers in 2019. Before the end of 2018 we had a scheme with 22 walks all over the Netherlands in 2019. Walks where one Peaker would/will show us a part of the province she lives in, her own ‘backyard’ or another part she’d like to show us. As I write this we just completed walk number 9 (blog: https://wp.me/paWbrQ-7C ) and I was lucky to participate in almost all of them so far. It already brought me to beautiful places and there is more to come from Dutch Peakers walking the Netherlands.
I am still grateful for the fact that one Dutch Peaker challenged herself to walk the dykes of Flevoland and allowed us to join her and that I took the step to do so. Going through the photoalbum I made and seeing the joyful photos makes me smile every time.
Sometimes the smallest step in the right direction ends up being the biggest step of your life. Tiptoe if you must, but take the step!
Yesterday’s walk with a group of 10 Dutch Peakers brought me to a small town in the province Zuid Holland, where the Peaker living there took us for a walk to show us her ‘backyard’. Again we discovered a beautiful part of our small country, another part of the Netherlands we would probably never have known of, if it weren’t for these walks.
Besides many familiar faces we also welcomed new members on this walk and, as happens every time, these new Peakers easily blended in in a group of Peakers who already know eachother for a longer time. We all come from different backgrounds and are of different age, but with (at least) one thing in common, we are all members of My Peak Challenge. Somehow this simple fact creates a bond even before meeting in real life.
One of the best things of these walks together, besides nature’s beauty, is that they offer an opportunity for conversation. Whether in the company of one other walker or a whole group, there is always something to talk about, chitchat or serious conversation. Especially serious topics are easier to talk about walking alongside someone than sitting opposite. It’s less confronting, there is more space around and there is room for emotions and for silence.
Talking while walking often helps to put things in perspective. Recognising your own difficulties in the story of a companion makes it less heavy. Sharing worries or issues doesn’t solve them, but somehow it makes them easier to bear. And the joy to be in nature and the laughter about the funny things in life are simply uplifting.
Walks like this spread so much positive energy, it has to be felt outside the group too. I always go home filled with energy, a happy heart, peaceful mind and feeling grateful for the friends and friendship I found through them.
I live in the Netherlands in the province Noord-Brabant. Besides its beautiful nature reserves Brabant is also the province where The Efteling, the largest themepark in the Netherlands, is situated. The Efteling has a history of 68 years and started as a place to relax and where fairytales were brought to life. Nowadays it’s a World of Wonders where fairytales, adventure and rollercoasters guarantee a day filled with fun and joy.
When I was little my parents often took me the Efteling. Especially on very warm days it was a welcome relief to be in the cool environment of the fairytales in the forest. In those days there was also a swimmingpool. When our own children were young hubby and I went there with them too, often when there was a fair in our hometown. The boys then had a free Monday and Tuesday from school while there was no nationwide holiday and often the only people in the park were from our hometown.
Dutch Peakers in the Efteling (2018) Photo: Amfion
In October 2018 I visited the Efteling myself with a large group of Dutch Peakers of various age for a fun day out. And a fun day it was! No matter your age, the Efteling always brings your inner child out and makes you feel like a teenager again for a day, strolling through the fairytale forest, and taking rides in the rollercoasters and other attractions. And we talk. A lot!
Talking with other members of my chosen family are always the best part of these gatherings. They vary from chitchat to serious talks about the issues we encounter in life. And so, in the course of this wonderful day, one of our members, who lives in the province Flevoland, told about the challenge she had given herself: walking the dykes that surround Flevoland before the end of the year. To understand what that means I need to tell a bit about Flevoland.
Photo: Google
Flevoland is the youngest and smallest province of the Netherlands, and above all, it’s a ‘man made’ province, a polder! The land was once covered with water, but by building dykes and using mills to pump away the water it became dry land where people could live. (This is a very short and simple way to explain, in fact it takes many many years before a polder is ready). The Netherlands know many of these areas that once were water, but now are dry land. Polders were created for various reasons, but mainly as protection against the water that surrounds our country and to create more space to live.
The Dutch Peaker who planned to walk the dykes that surround Flevoland wanted to do this as a way of embracing the province she is living in for 50 years now and we were welcome to join her on her walks which she had planned on the following Sundays. Two weeks later I joined her on her second walk.
DCIM\100MEDIA
It wasn’t my first visit to Flevoland. Fifteen years before, in November 2003, I went there too, with my whole family, to plant trees for my father in ‘Het Wilhelminabos’ in Dronten. From 2000 until 2015 trees could be planted there (in November) in memory of loved ones who had lost their battle against cancer. The forest created this way, symbolises life. It grows, protects, dies and passes life on. It’s also a peaceful place, for memories, sadness and joy. The names of loved ones (many thousands) are engraved in glass panels at the site of the forest. My father had lost his battle in March 2003 and his grandchildren planted 2 trees in his memory. A few years later we visited the site again, to see for ourself how much the trees had grown.
And so last years visit to the themepark I once went to with my parents caused my return to the province where my children planted trees in memory of one of them ….
I embrace you with my feeling I cross Distance and time Just touch you Be close to you Just for a moment Just Be with you
I went out for a walk yesterday. Normally I have a plan where I want to go but this time I went without one. I decided to go where my feet wanted to take me, and let it be all about the journey, not the goal!
It was supposed to be a short walk, an hour and a half or so, but turned out into a 20km hike through woods and on the moor of the Strabrechtse Heide. Luckily I always take my backpack with me, just in case. As usual after a few kilometers I found my pace and what I call ‘adjustment to the world around me’, paying closer attention to whatever comes along and on my way, buildings, paths and nature.
Some years ago I followed a workshop Mindfullness. I was having issues with chronic hyperventilation at that time, and was looking for ways to treat it. Yoga helped me with it, but I heard about the benefit of mindfullness and was curious to learn more about that as well.
In short mindfullness means to be in the ‘now’. Not thinking of the past, not about the future, but focus on what happens right this moment, what you do, what you see, where you are. I was hooked right from the beginning. It helped me not only to get the hyperventilation under control, it became a tool to relax and find inner peace when I felt nervous or restless. Mindfullness requires no special equipment or place, it can be practiced in every situation, at home, at work, in a crowd or when alone. For me it works fantastic, especially in times of tension and anxiety, but also during my walks.
Weeds along the way
Walking in a mindfull way has taught me that there is so much more to see around me than I see at first glance. The great views, many colors of green, the changing pattern and colors of the sky. Even weeds are beautiful when you pay more attention to it.
Today I walked some new paths and some familiar ones. But the familiar ones looked new as well, now that I was walking them in a different season. Different flowers were blooming, grasses grew so high they were blooming too, and formerly bare trees now wore green leaves.
Memorial stone for the crew of the bomber that crashed here in WWII
On my way I also passed memorials of WWII. One was a stone with a plate to remember the crew of bomber that crashed there in August 1942.
The other one is the foundation of a hidingplace in the woods where 30 men hid from December 1943 untill September 1944. They hid in ‘Kamp Dennenlust’, as it was called, initially to prevent to be taken to Germany for ‘Arbeitseinsatz’, but later fighting as partisans. Also pilots who were crashed found a temporary refuge here. People from the small village Moorsel, where I had lunch today, secretly brought food if any was available. To see the remains of this camp and imagine how it must have been for them to live there, I realised once more how fortunate I am to be able to walk here in freedom.
Walks in these woods and on the moor are always peaceful and quiet, noises of daily life inaudible. The wind in the trees, singing birds, crickets and my own footsteps are the only sounds I hear. And this time a choir of froggs welcomed me when I came out of the woods and entered the moor. So funny. A few cyclists, walkers and a horserider were the only other people I met on my way.
After 4 1/2 hour I returned home, physically tired but happy, mentally refreshed and with enough energy to face another week. It was a great journey!
Take a walk! 