of course Holland is beautiful windmills in the middle of green fields. lovely old streets full of lovely old houses. charming restaurants with Van Gogh paintings on the walls, and idyllic farms that look exactly like in those paintings. just like you know it from your guidebook. just like you expected it. just like you planned to enjoy it.

but it doesn't take long to discover that this country that is nestling up to the Northern Sea isn't only flowerland but at the same time futureworld, a place where you can find post-modern office buildings lurking in the backyard of old railway stations. or an exhibition of an angry young artist right next door to an exhibition of peaceful old paintings. or hypertrendy shops full of spacy clothes under the roof of historic houses. and maybe it is exactly this combination of history and modern times, this almost reckless way of mixing old and new elements, of putting together pieces that don't seem to match on first glance that creates this special open atmosphere.

and to your surprise this openness doesn't end where the private life starts - most of the people who live in those old houses don't hide behind high fences or behind dark curtains.

in fact some of the big windows you pass while you walk through town come without any curtains at all, allowing you to look right into living rooms filled with sunlight and life, making you wonder whether it might be the nearness of the ocean or the flatness of the land that makes people open their doors and windows for insights and outlooks, for new ideas and different lifestyles.

and as you watch the evening sky turn to pastel you even consider whether it might be the legions of windmills that make the difference, whether they have the power to tune up the trading winds that come from the sea and blow them along the countless canals and through the endless sky, spreading sailor tales and ocean dreams to the smallest towns with their huge windwings - a theory that also might answer the question why Van Gogh and the others kept painting windmills and skies and ships again and again.

this mindgame pops up again while you are in Amsterdam, where you spent a day strolling through the maze of city canals, where you drink in the atmosphere of all those small streets with all those small delicate houses, where you stop at an Irish pub for a rest and visit a modern art gallery.

where you wander along the canals some more, through streets filled with African and Greek and Italian takeaways, passing coffeeshops at every corner. where you walk over another little bridge, turn around a corner and find yourself in Chinatown, in front of a yellow temple, and decide to have dinner in a Thai restaurant with your friend, green curry and chicken noodles and travel talk, just like you had it in Laos some months ago.

and where you end the evening with a walk through the weird world of the red light district followed by a white wine in a French bar, enjoying this spicy mix of different cultures and lifestyles that is offered to you by this big fancy town, a mix that feels like a big buffet of life where everyone can pick and combine the dishes in an own unique way, sticking to the mainstream today and trying some alternative ways tomorrow.

and then, on your way home, you pass an outdoor shop that has a huge poster in the window. and for a moment you stop and listen to the poster that says 'never stop exploring' to anyone who wants to hear its message, and you smile, thinking that this might be a good concept not only for treks, but also for travels. or even for life in general.