Windmills! That was the overwhelming Team Beck consensus on what to see next after a fabulous morning at the Rijksmuseum and the Van Loon mansion earlier that August Sunday in Amsterdam.

Hive account@tim-beck knew just the place, and after a couple of rounds of trying to convince us it wouldn’t take hours to get to this museum village in the hinterlands of the Netherlands, we headed to Amsterdam Centraal Station and found the regional train heading to Zaanse Schans. We had been warned that our tickets would “explode” if we didn’t tag ourselves in, but all the gates in the station were open, so we headed up the escalator to our regional train platform, caught the train within a few minutes, and within half an hour were disembarking in the residential area of Zaanse Schans, which the website (well worth checking out if only for the stunning flyover video of the area) bills as a “unique piece of Dutch history on the River Zaan”.

From the train station to windmills

Following a group of three girl-women-nonstop-selfie-takers who seemed to know what they were doing, we headed down the main road from the station towards the river.

Even the sidewalks were whimsical.

A map of the town made it easy to figure out where to go and what to expect.

Take a sec to look at the route - it's straightforward; just cross the bridge and hang a left into the 1800s.

The smell of raw chocolate being processed at the factory to our left was overwhelming. A bit sickening, to be honest, and we wondered if it was milder on a Sunday than during the week - and if so, how the residents could stand it, even if it did mean gainful employment. This was not how we thought Willy Wonka’s factory would smell.

A glance to the left took us briefly home to Africa. This was a window of a cocoa shop, which no doubt had its doors been open would have shared with us tales of the chocolate industry in Côte d'Ivoire, Ghana and other African countries where the cocoa bean has been so influential to their destiny.

We turned left and were greeted by our first windmill. Majestic!

We crossed the bridge over the Zaans River, where we were greeted by this panoramic view to our left.

Here you can see the modern town to the left and the windmills and historic village on the other side of the river.

Here's how it looked and sounded that day:

To the right, another chocolate factory. Again, this is not where we envisioned Willy Wonka heading every day.

At the foot of the bridge was this beautiful little garden.

By now you know we were attracted, like magpies, to shiny things. We had to go in for a closer look.

We had thought it was a little cherub boy. Wrong!

On the other side of the path leading into the village, a detailed map laid out the village and the string of windmills, so again we knew what to expect.

Naturally we studied it in detail before heading into the village. Not! Because…

…it is such a pretty village, and we couldn't wait to start exploring

The village is filled with quaint houses, and little bridges crossing the small streams.

Just try to choose the prettiest. I dare you.

The whole village is peaceful and quiet, despite the many tourists wandering through. We doubted anyone actually lives there, because there’s no way their lives could be peaceful and quiet. If we had gone there earlier in the day when some of the museums were open, I'm sure we would have found out. However, the houses are maintained in mint condition, as are the various museums (at least their exteriors – they were closed by the time we got there) and the mills.

Then - finally - we got to the main reason for our excursion...

...windmills!

As we approached, the light became more forgiving. The clouds dispersed and the whole area became bathed in golden late afternoon sunlight.

These windmills are sooooooo pretty.

Again, I dare you to choose the prettiest. There's no point in trying.

They are also functional. For example, the windmill Verfmolen De Kat (Colour Mill “The Cat”), built in 1782, is the last working colour mill in the world, and is used to this day to grind a variety of natural dyes and pigments from hardwoods and minerals such as red and yellow ochre. I had no idea that's where pigments had been made historically.

Here's Emma sitting pretty in front of a pretty windmill. She was really glad we went to the Zaanse Schans.

Country life in the Zaanse Schans

It seemed to us that to grow up in the 1800s in a place of such simple natural beauty, surrounded by colours, flocks of birds, farm animals to provide all the dairy and protein to fuel a farmworker’s appetite would arguably have been about the best way to grow up anywhere ever. It is hard to look at this place and not imagine painters flocking to the banks of the Zaans River to be inspired by the intensity of the colours and the tranquillity of the area, not to mention that if your subjects were animals, these moved obligingly slowly.

This little tendril reminded me of a similar wildflower we used to see in the fields of Montreal's South Shore in the 1970s. Spot the ladybird.

That was a mini-windmill in the centre of the field, and there were birds and cats playing (not with each other) in the long grass. I'm sure there were other four-legged creatures in the grass, but they were too wily to be spotted by the humans on the path.

Country scenes

Here are a few photos to give you an idea of the bucolic life the animals lead.

Kiligirl's take on the inner life of farm animals

"I heard tomorrow we'll have to get up."

"Don't bug me. I'm meditating. So's Fred."

"Who's Fred?"

"I dunno. Some old goat. I'm tired now from all this eating grass. Time to do some cud."

Kiligirl makes a sheep of herself

I’m embarrassed to say I thought, from far away, that these were pigs. I need to spend more time on farms.

It was only when we got closer I could see they were woolly. Sheep, not pigs. And of course some of the tourists were snapping their fingers trying to get the sheep to look at them. As if....

And some closing views for you

Back to Amsterdam

Thrilled with our visit to the Zaanse Schans, we scuttled back to the train station. Somehow we had read the schedule wrong, since instead of a 5-minute wait it was more like half an hour. Emma had photos to format on her phone. I played with my exploding ticket, but no boom or even pop was to be heard when I scanned it over the card reader. We watched the other tourists on the platform, who seemed as baffled as we were by the written schedule and the definitive lack of train.

We didn't care.

We had enjoyed a delectable skim of a slice of Dutch history, which could have been terribly cheesy but wasn't, and revelled in the harmony of an area which draws its power from the movement of air through ancient sails turning in the breeze. We had seen our first real windmills, and we were deeply satisfied.

So it was time for supper, then!

Images by Hive account@kiligirl, Hive account@tim-beck and Emma Beck except where otherwise credited.

Other posts to date on our trip:

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Day 11, Part 2 – Team Beck tilts at windmills in Zaanse Schans