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Tantalising Texel A picturesque village

All we had to do was book a bed-and-breakfast joint. But, given that half the world and their brothers were apparently trying to get into Texel, it wasn’t that easy; after several unsuccessful attempts, we finally did get a room in a little inn in the village De Koog, and thankfully zoomed off.

Getting to Texel Island, that lies to the North of Holland, across the Wadden Sea, is interesting in itself. First, you drive along the picturesque province of North Holland till you reach Den-Helder, park yourself onboard the huge ferry and get whisked across the waters for a modest sum of 35 euros.

Exiting the ferry on the other end, you’re in Texel, which, for a want of a better word, is breathtakingly beautiful. The island is just miles of emerald green grass, flecked liberally with the fat, woolly backs of sheep, and intermittently by stocky thatched-roofed farm houses; rolling dunes blanketed with swaying, feathery low vegetation, sloping gently to the froth-lipped beaches of the Waddenzee; thick woods, that let in broad shafts of the mellow autumn sun to draw pretty patterns on the mossy ground; charming villages, with their cosy, neat rows of red-roofed houses and the tall steeples of the churches… Naturally, we fell irrevocably in love with Texel.

Checking into our little hotel, run by a garrulous, cheerful Dutch couple, we asked about the recommended walking/cycling routes. “Go cycling! This weather is just perfect for it — abundant sunshine and no-wind; rent bikes around the corner!” the landlady gushed.

Taking her advice, we trotted off to the bike-rental. But alas, renting suitable ‘hand-brake’ bicycles was no easy job, since we, by typical Dutch standards, were mere midgets. Any bike that we climbed on seemed like a lofty throne, and it was only after dropping the seat-height considerably that we could actually pedal! Grabbing a map of the island, we finally set off on the smooth red cycling path…

Texel almost seems like a bikers’ paradise, with its meticulously charted out biking-lanes, that criss-cross some of the most scenic parts of the Island, the dunes and the woods. Pedalling leisurely (on the, ahem, pretext of keeping pace with a kid who was a biking-novice) we reached the woods surrounding De Koog.

Our path took us deep into the thick, verdant woods, and for a while, we were quite cut-off from civilisation, surrounded by just cheeping, roosting, birds. The lengthening shadows however warned us that we had better get a move on, and we reluctantly left the woods and headed out into the dunes.

The dunes are certainly the most remarkable feature of Texel Island. Draped with a velvety, grassy blanket, in every conceivable shade between rust and green, the rolling dunes looked (beguilingly!) inviting, like the best place in the world to bike. Now, riding a bicycle on a dune can be a very pleasant experience…especially if you’re going down one; it’s a thrilling freefall. But pedalling up them is muscle-wrenchingly tiring, and after a while, we shamelessly hopped-off our bikes and pushed them up. The dunes are simply teeming with animal life. We stopped suddenly as hares hopped across our path and disappeared into the tall heather, while several species of birds dived in and out of the long grass, perhaps searching for a last bite before dossing down for the night. The sun was setting in slow motion, colour-washing the dunes in muted shades of olive and orange. We stopped near a bench, unable to go on, mesmerised by the play of light and colour, and took several pictures, all of which, of course, utterly failed to capture the beauty of the dunes at sunset.

The next day we set out to meet the seals, the rightful owners of the Wadden Islands. While it is possible to see the seals in the wild, we chose the easy way and visited Eco-Mare, the island’s Nature reserve. Since we were in time for the morning feed, we were entertained by several seals that playfully leapt out of their enclosures to grab their fishy-food. The baby-refugee seals (apparently their mums abandoned them) were certainly the centre of attraction. Little roly-poly Leentje, Elske and Johan (typical Dutch names!) twisted and stretched their tubby bodies, yawned, flopped about and generally enthralled the adoring public! After a long, leisurely stroll through the Dune Park (accessible from the Eco Mare), we got back on our bikes, for one last spin through the island.

With the sun smiling down from a clear blue sky, a temperature of about 15 degree Celsius, it was a brilliant weather to bike.

We covered more ground, literally, driving from one charming little village to the next, through the ever-changing scenery, past horses and sheep and bounding hares… until it was time to turn in our bikes and head back home.

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