I'm spending a few days with my sisters and several of my sisters-in-law. We came to Holland, Michigan to see what all the hoopla is about. It's about tulips. Reds, pinks, whites, purples, yellows, oranges, variegated, solid. And they are beautiful.
We braved the confusing traffic laws of Michigan (turn left on red after stopping?) and the even more confusing directions, or lack thereof, from the locals. We eventually found a park worth seeing and a tulip farm not far away. It felt like a vast distance, though, by the time we had traversed the length of Holland countless times. And that was just to find the information center. We never did find it. We found signs. But not the fount of information they promised was close by.
After eating breakfast at the local IHOP, I inquired of the young man behind the counter how one gets to downtown Holland. He laughed and said, "Good luck." He offered nothing further. I determined in my heart to be nice to the tourists when I return to my heavy-tourist-traffic hometown.
How rude! I thought of the unhelpful young man. By the end of the day I realized his answer was much more profound than rude.
Persistence pays off however; eventually we did find a place proclaiming itself to be a Chamber of Commerce. Well, at least one small sign in the general area of the parking lot proclaimed it. I had begun to think anything more than obtuse clues must be illegal here. We entered the unmarked building through the only door without "private" on it and followed a hallway around a few turns to a single, short wall holding brochures. The friendly lady staffing the place, seemingly single-handed, told us of several possible places to visit. She was right on all counts although we became hopelessly lost when searching for the tulip farm.
Eventually, with the help of my GPS and the Chamber lady's map, we did see a spot of color in a field behind some buildings along the way. After several more wrong turns and a dead-end street we discovered there was a way to see the flowers up close and personal. The lack of signage was sufficient to suggest another Area 51.
Feeling victorious in our discovery, we plunked down $10.00 each, entered a gate from inside a nondescript building and passed behind a tall, weather-beaten wall to behold a sight worth every penny spent.
Boasting over five million tulips, a number of blooming trees in varieties I cannot name, Dutch windmills, wooden benches, lush grass, and even a few bison, (I know. . . you didn't see the bison coming), we wandered around in a world set apart from the dismal-looking storefronts unenthusiastically beckoning tourists on the other side of the wall.
We did our best to capture the breathtaking display with our cameras and cell phones but it was inadequate in the extreme. Nothing but a first-hand visual experience could suffice. And even then it was sensory overload.
Tearing ourselves away at last, we piled into the big van on loan from my nephew. We cruised streets lined with more tulips and streets with tulips planted down the middle. It seemed we had picked the perfect week to come. The lady staffing Area 51 told us this was the best season in ten years. From the flowering trees to the lush grasses to the brilliant plumage of the tulips I believed she was telling the truth.
Like sponges that had soaked in all we could hold we returned to our rental house situated within a five minute walk of Lake Michigan. Several of us headed toward the lake on foot only to realize that just because something is touted in the advertisements as "only a five minute walk away" does not mean access to that something is available anywhere in the vicinity. I always wonder if the people spouting the glowing promises for vacationers honestly think the aforementioned vacationers will not notice their discrepancies. Oh well. It was a fine day to enjoy a stroll and enjoy it we did.
Our directional misadventures notwithstanding, we all enjoyed our day to the full. And even though our blatant tourism status had to be obvious to anyone within sight of our meandering vehicle, not once did we hear a horn blow or an impatient word from anyone. I'll take friendliness over directional accuracy anytime. Holland is a beautiful place and I'd love to visit again sometime. I might investigate some of those mysterious traffic laws first though.
Our directional misadventures notwithstanding, we all enjoyed our day to the full. And even though our blatant tourism status had to be obvious to anyone within sight of our meandering vehicle, not once did we hear a horn blow or an impatient word from anyone. I'll take friendliness over directional accuracy anytime. Holland is a beautiful place and I'd love to visit again sometime. I might investigate some of those mysterious traffic laws first though.
