Prisca Visser is a photographer with a love of the outdoors and nature. For the Biesboschlinie she goes out to capture stories. She takes you through the polders, visits entrepreneurs and of course out on the water! Here she writes short pieces about it, so you can get to know the hidden gems in Altena.
Despite growing up in the big city, I often walked on wooden clogs as a child. Clattering I ran through the back alleys and when I grew out of them, the clog turned into a planter for the wall. I still prefer to walk in my vegetable garden in clogs. Because clogs have no tread on the bottom, the thick clay is more walkable. When I discovered that there is a real clog maker in Altena, the idea for an article was born immediately. I am going back in time!
Peter walked into the clogmaking shop as a twelve-year-old male, Piet van Gennip still wielding the scepter in the workshop at the time. The business had been in the hands of the van Gennip family for three generations. Piet saw Peter's passion and drive and eventually handed the clogmaking shop over to him. Together with his wife Patricia, Peter implemented his innovative ideas. After all, being a traditional clogmaker is a passion, but there was little future perspective for this profession.
A new clog factory came, built entirely in the old style of yesteryear. The building is at the bottom of the dike and from the top I have a nice view of the site. To my left are large logs piled up. This must be wood for the clogs! Inside, it is surprisingly spacious. Long tables are cozily set with cups and saucers. The pastries are also ready. After me, a group will stop by for a visit. There is a pleasant smell of roasted wood mixed with real filter coffee.
"In times when people still walked daily on clogs, willow was used," Peter tells me as he shows me around the impressive machinery. Willow is dark wood and good for processing. Only now the willows are being pollarded and therefore the trees are too small for logging. "Now we use the wood from the poplars," Peter continues. This is lighter in color, but just as good. In cooperation with the Brabants Landschap, local poplar wood is cut for the clog maker. It has to be trees that are further away from the road, "otherwise we encounter a lot of nails in the wood." Bill with a missing cat, scavenger hunt, roadblock. Every nail is 1 too many for the saws.
The wood is worked as wet as possible. Carpenters use dried wood, but clog makers need wetter wood for planing and hollowing so it will not split. First the logs are cleaved into large blocks, then roughly chiseled into the shape of a lump. This block is placed in a clamp and the machine is operated manually to hollow out the lump. All that remains is to sand the outside smooth and the wooden block is transformed into an elegant nugget. This still needs to dry for weeks before it can be worked on further.
The phone rings, the bus driver announces that the group will be there in ten minutes. With a firm handshake, I say goodbye to Peter. I browse through the store full of wooden shoes, neatly arranged in rows. My eye catches the clog that has been fashioned into a birdhouse cum feeder. I understand that clogs are not worn much these days, but such a nesting box for the great tits is a nice reminder of this special place!
The country air makes one hungry. I had in mind lunch at café 't Zwaantje in Genderen. For local people a well-known place and the café is also called 'Kees van Japkes'. It was recommended to me by several people to go here. "Really something for you Pris". The expectation is high, you understand.
In front of the door is a row of old Zundapps parked, their chrome gleaming in the sun. I step into the café and have to blink my eyes. In a flash, I am back in time. My gaze glides over the soft yellow beams on the ceiling, past the old wallpaper and lingers on the shiny bar with the text chiseled above it: "conviviality knows no time. Time doesn't seem to matter here anyway. The atmosphere is relaxed, no pressure. Behind the bar stands Suzanne, who greets me in a friendly manner. I choose a table in the back corner by the window where I have a view of the entire café.
A group of men is sitting farther away. Their laughter sometimes rises above the background music. They are touring the mopeds I saw parked out front. Their order is served by Suzanne, plates piled high with shiny fries and large burgers. I like that burger and I too order a "van Jappe burger. Suzanne explains that this is their runner on the menu. A sesame bun of soft bread specially made by the baker with a big, juicy burger on top. "The meat is from their own cows," Suzanne says, "you can come back in a minute to take a look."
When my lunch is behind my teeth, I walk with Suzanne through the back door. While walking, she tells the story. Café 't Zwaantje was once started by her ancestors. She, with her husband who is in the kitchen, is the fourth generation to keep the café running. Once really started as a café, but over time some cows joined the business. Those were in the barn adjacent to the café I'm walking through now. A spacious barn has since been built in the yard. Only the little pinks can be petted, the cows are happily walking in the pasture. "Over forty dairy cows. We use the milk and meat in our café," Suzanne beams proudly.
It has gotten busier inside and I sip my iced tea quietly before moving on. People know each other, greet each other. It feels like a warm blanket, sitting here at the table. The café is clearly the heart of the community. Display cases full of prize cups adorn the walls. Both the fishing club, billiards club and sharpshooting club have had their home here for decades. I even spot a trophy from 1969! For a moment, I hum along softly to the last notes of "What a Feeling" by Flashdance coming out of the speakers and then I step outside again, into the sunlight.
My last stop is the Duyls Bos. You just have to know where to find it, because this special place is hidden among the meadows. Slowly I wander along the long gravel path that forms the entrance to the heart of the forest, a group of buildings that together form a small village. Above me, the wind gently rustles the leaves of the huge poplars. These poplars were planted in 1953 for the clogging industry, can you believe it! Jan and Jenny saw this land with trees for sale in the 1970s, made an offer and before they knew it, they were the owners of a patch of land with trees and a half-burnt cottage. Now you don't see any of that at all!
In the years that followed, the couple moved mountains of work. Without electricity or drinking water, large tracts of land were excavated, water features were created, an island, vegetable garden, flower garden, hiking trails, and Jan was able to express his creativity in building a number of unusual cottages. Jan and Jenny grew older, but still did everything without a car and kept up the entire forest using authentic methods. One day the decision was made to establish a foundation. Jan is still a hard worker in the field, but it is nice that there is now support from a group of volunteers.
Agnes is a volunteer of the first hour and welcomes me warmly. We start with a mug of hot coffee, Jan rings the big bell next to the outdoor table to alert everyone. After the round of introductions, Agnes and I walk through the woods. The first building that catches my eye is a black stained pot lid barn. It used to house a pig, but is now a miniature house with a workshop, kitchenette and wood stove. The ridge is adorned by a beautiful gable sign which is symbolic, as are the horseshoes that are supposed to bring good luck. The further we get on the property, the more I notice the symbolism and thought behind this life's work. For example, the light blue behind Mary in the little chapel represents the heavenly and modesty. The chapel itself is hidden under a large Ginkgo tree which has a hopeful symbolism.
Furthermore, I come across a small bakery that can actually be used. The bakery was built complete with oven and then the contents were donated by former village baker Manschot. Around the corner I find a shoe repair shop and a collection of old farming tools. Some of the farming tools are still used in the garden. There are two display cases filled with antique tin cans, enamel pans and one contains a real store fixture. The yellow dishes in the store are from the Hotel Krasnapolsky in Amsterdam. "A lot is donated," Agnes says, "but Jan has also collected a lot in his life."
After visiting the buildings, a tour of the gardens follows. The grounds are much larger than I had imagined. Because of the recent heavy rainfall, some mushrooms are sticking up above the ground here and there. The vegetable garden looks neat and tidy. Leaf litter is collected on a long strip. This compost heap is constantly being dug up and used as food for the garden. Humming softly, a bee makes her way from the pink sunflower to the cosmos. In addition to a vegetable garden and butterfly garden, there are grand plans for a flower forest with various types of fruit trees. The beginnings are already there. So I come across a hazel tree bending its heavy branches full of hazelnuts across the path.
Residual wood, in addition to firewood, is used for so-called geriefhout. For example, bean stakes, row wood for peas or to support plants. Reuse and working with nature, is at the heart of the whole philosophy. For all materials and items that come Jan's way, he finds a suitable function. Don't be surprised to find a life-size owl made from old bricks among the greenery. Jan made this for Jenny because she is so fond of owls. By the way, live owls know their way around the forest too. At dusk the eagle owl sounds regularly between the poplars.
I am really short of eyes here. This is the life's work of a visionary man. Now it may be very normal and even trendy to reuse stuff, not use harmful substances on the garden and make sure nature is in harmony. You have to imagine that in the 1980s it was still very revolutionary. Jan had foresight and saw that heavy and polluting industry was not sustainable in the long run. You can see this reflected in 1 of the many mosaics he made on the ground. It depicts a man raising his fist against a highway and chimney with a plume of black smoke.
Would you also like to make this route? I did it by bike and rode about thirty kilometers for it. Along the way you come across little stalls everywhere where you can buy homemade jam or honey. Now that I know the story of the poplars in the area, I noticed right away that there were piles of tree trunks along the road, ready for further wood production. On a colder afternoon, it is also fun to take this trip by car. If you still feel like something tasty in between, you can, like me, get a farm ice cream at Melktap de Bloemplaat Hoeve, around the corner from the Duyls Bos.
Would you like to make the same itinerary as Prisca? Here is a list of the locations she visited:
- Clogmaking den Dekker
- Café 't Zwaantje. Check the website for opening hours.
- Duyls Bos
Text and photos: www.priscavisser.nl. Here you will find all of Prisca's blogs.