BIKE ADVENTURES
From castle ruins to alpacas: the first 100-km ride with my wife on a single bike
Exploring the most interesting places of South Holland
I absolutely love biking, but my wife does not that much. To be precise, she enjoys the feeling of riding but finds steering and navigating the road stressful. Despite trying for the past two years, this stress hasn’t gone away. Finally, I decided to take a radical step and bought a cargo e-bike so that we could go on an adventure together, and it worked out! So, here is the story of our first 100-km bike ride.
We kicked off the journey from our home in Scheveningen and rode along the coast to the dunes. I equipped the bike with a comfy passenger seat pad (originally sold for motorcycles) and a phone holder for my wife’s dummy handlebar so she could navigate us along the route.
The weather was perfect: dry, sunny, and with a light breeze from the sea. And what’s unusual for the Netherlands, no rain in the forecast! There was no concrete ride plan, but rather a general direction with a bunch of “Want to go” points on my Google Map: lighthouses, old churches, windmills, and a couple of castles. We didn’t know exactly what we’d be lucky to visit that day.
We were approaching Katwijk aan Zee, a coastal town with a charming beach boulevard lined with old low-rise buildings. But before reaching the boulevard, I noticed a strange tulip-bulb-shaped dome in the dunes. I had no idea what it could be. Can you guess?
So, it’s actually the Sufi Movement Temple, built in 1969 as a place of universal worship and gatherings. The so-called “Universal Sufism” is a philosophy and spiritual practice that bridges the religions of the East and the West and promotes the ideas of unity, freedom, and love intended for all of humanity. Katwijk’s Sufi temple is one of just two such temples in the world; the second one is in South Africa.
When we entered the town, a large white tower appeared on the right. It looked so minimalistic and modern, but in reality, it was the second-oldest lighthouse in the country!
The Beacon of Katwijk dates back to 1605, though a lighthouse has stood in this spot since earlier times. The lighthouse was renovated multiple times and remained in operation until 1913, but then Katwijk lost its importance as a port.
The next stop was in a couple of minutes at Katwijk’s stunning coastal church. Originally, it was surrounded by houses, but floods and coastal erosion shifted the center of the settlement further inland, leaving the church behind.
Interestingly, St. Andreas Church (1460), is not the oldest in town. A Gothic church in the center is two centuries older, but it looks fairly typical. In contrast, this one, with its whitewashed walls and harmonious symmetrical shape, stands out and is visible from afar.
One could easily spend the entire day in Katwijk without realizing it, but we had other things to see. So, we continued on our way.
I thought that was it for Katwijk, but just before leaving, we spotted a snow-white minimalist villa near the road. I guessed it must be an example of Interwar Modernism, and stopped to take a picture. Indeed, Villa Alegonda (1916–1936) is a bright example of the Modernist and Cubist styles. But it didn’t look this elegant all the time. From 1957 until 2015, it underwent brutal alterations and was used as a hotel. Only in 2018 did new owners restore it to as much of its original state as possible.
In 20 minutes, we came to Noordwijk. Unlike Katwijk, with its picturesque seafront street, Noordwijk’s seaside was lined with high-rise hotels and bustling with cars. I was pedaling at cruise speed and didn’t take much time to look around. But then suddenly, something grabbed my attention, so I stopped and walked a little bit back to take a photo.
This was a sculpture by Noordwijk-based contemporary artist Maja van Hall. She made a series of statues depicting women busy with household chores. She ironically called them “Drudges” (an old-fashioned word for someone made to do monotonous, dull work) to protest against traditional gender roles and challenge societal norms. I was surprised to encounter such a deep piece of art right on the street.
Then, we only made a brief stop at Noordwijk’s lighthouse, built between 1921 and 1923 in the style of Modernism. The lighthouse has six floors and a light height of over 33 meters. Despite its relatively recent construction, the site has a long history. Fires were first lit here in the mid-15th century to guide local fishers. It’s no surprise that the Dutch word for lighthouse, “vuurtoren,” literally means “fire tower.”
Time passed quickly, and we soon found ourselves quite hungry. I began searching for a nice spot for a picnic. We took our favorite “assemble it yourself” lunch: pieces of baked chicken, bread, slices of sweet paprika and tomatoes, and various cheeses. Cheap and tasty! We found a lovely spot under the trees near the Oosterduinse Meer. We took off our shoes and walked on the cooling grass near the lake.
There was only one small problem. After riding in the direct sunlight, we got thirsty, with only a few sips of disgustingly warm water left in the bottle. Luckily, Oksanka had a shortcut to the map of drinking water points and discovered a public tap by an old mill in the center of Lisse, where we were going anyway. The town of Lisse has a long history but is best known for its tulip bulb cultivation and Keukenhof Flower Park, which is always full of tourists. We passed the crowded parking lot of Keukenhof and rushed to the mill.
Although the current mill dates back to only 2003, its history stretches back to the 17th century when it was used to drain water from the neighboring Zemel polder. (By the way, if you didn’t know, polders are low-lying areas enclosed by dikes and artificially drained — the Dutch have been experts in land reclamation for centuries!)
But why did we go to Lisse in the first place if not to see the famous tulip park? We wanted to visit a lesser-known spot, the 14th-century Dever Castle. However, don’t be misled by the word “castle.” In this case, we are talking about its only remnant — the donjon, or residential tower. Most castles in the Middle Ages started with a single formidable keep and then expanded around it.
The Dever Castle is the only preserved medieval donjon in South Holland. It was built after 1375 by knight Reinier Dever, a member of an old line of Dutch nobles.
The castle is horseshoe-shaped: its thinner, flat side faced a swamp and thus was naturally protected, while the rounded facade is 2 meters thick! It stands on foundations that extend 3 meters below the surface, which may be one of the reasons the keep still stands despite centuries of decay.
During the 16–17th centuries, when medieval fortifications lost their function, the Dever Castle was extended and turned into a stately mansion, much larger than the original donjon.
Since the owners of the castle were Catholics living in a primarily Protestant country, they were eventually forced to leave for Germany, and the place began to decay. By the 19th century, the extensions started falling apart (their foundations were not as strong as those from medieval times), and the donjon’s roof collapsed as well. It is painful to see what a ruin the castle turned into by the 1930s: a grass-covered brick shell with a wooden barn on the side.
After the Second World War, the Dutch government seized the castle under the pretext of enemy property. As I mentioned earlier, the original owners had moved to Germany, the aggressor state that lost the war, making it a suitable moment for the Dutch to reclaim the castle. It was restored in the 1970s and has been open to the public ever since.
The Dever Castle was interesting but quite compact, so after half an hour’s tour, we had plenty of time to explore somewhere else. We headed to the border between South and North Holland.
While taking a picture of a grumpy sheep on the grass, I noticed an old mill in the distance. It was the Lisse polder mill from 1676, built to drain the water from the surrounding area. Although the mill is still operational, nowadays, it is inhabited and not used for its initial purpose.
The mill was gorgeous and nicely located on the bank of a canal. We saw other riders also stop here to enjoy the view and relax on the grass.
We stood right on the border of South Holland, and North Holland was just across the canal.
We rode along the canal towards Teylingen, a municipality that unites the villages of Voorhout, Sassenheim, and Teylingen itself.
What I’ve always loved about traveling through villages and towns is noticing their original details and cute makeshift decorations. Cities often don’t have this naive vibe. For example, the cute yellow house in the photo below had lovely blue window frames and a doily pattern on the bottom parts of the windows.
However, we were seeking not just cute houses but something special — the ruins of medieval Teylingen Castle. It was built as a defensive point of the north-south route through Holland and a keep of the noble family Van Teylingen.
The castle started in the early 13th century as a ring wall 37 meters in diameter, and soon after that, a curved donjon was attached to its eastern side. In the 14th century, a comfortable house was built on the outside adjacent to the fortress, but it didn’t survive.
Unfortunately, the castle was seriously damaged in 1570 during the eighty-year-long Dutch Revolt against the Spanish Empire. In 1675, the donjon burned, while other parts gradually decayed. Starting in the 18th century, the area changed owners, but fortunately, it was sold under the condition of preserving the ruins, which became one of the first examples of Dutch national heritage protection.
I found several interesting historical depictions of the fortress. It was damaged and rebuilt several times, but you can still easily recognize its original rounded shape.
The donjon is just an empty shell now, but you can guess the layout and interior by the marks on its walls.
I didn’t expect it would be possible to climb to the top of the defensive wall near the gate, but the tower entrance was open, so we enjoyed a picturesque view of the entire fortress from above. The courtyard lawn was mowed in visible circles, resembling a UFO landing site straight out of one of those alien conspiracies.
After visiting the second castle during our journey, we continued through Sassenheim. While Oksanka was buying snacks at a supermarket, I couldn’t resist taking a picture of the old village church. The building captivated me because it featured parts from different epochs: an arched Romanesque facade from the 12th century, a Gothic tower with lancet portals from the 13th century, and minimalist additions from the 16th to 18th centuries when the church was damaged in wars.
What’s interesting, the oldest Romanesque part (well-visible in my photo) had been concealed under a thick layer of plaster, only being revealed during the 1970s restoration.
After such a concentrated adventure with castles, windmills, and other fascinating sites, Oksanka and I were ready to call it a day. However, we unexpectedly stumbled upon an alpaca farm near the village of Warmond. Such a pleasant surprise at the end of the day!
There was one black alpaca that stood still and stared at us. It looked like a shadowy silhouette, with no facial details visible.
Then we rode non-stop through other villages and towns and finally got to Scheveningen. It was the “golden hour,” right before the sunset. The sea was unusually calm but quite chill.
It was so pleasant to dip my feet in the cold water of the North Sea after a day of pedaling. Unfortunately, I hadn’t bought sandals yet and had to wear sneakers, which were too hot for such nice weather.
This trip inspired me to create a huge list of Dutch medieval castles on my Google Maps. Hopefully, we’ll visit them all someday.
