Living inside a postcard picture
Inspired by a charming town called Roermond in Limburg, the southernmost province of The Netherlands, I caught myself feeling as if I was living inside a postcard picture.
This little town was spotless, the air crisp, and it reminded me of images I saw at a young age of European towns. Little winding roads bordered by Dutch homes of various roofs that look more like assortment of hats. Some alike folded boxes, some with rectangular punctures that look like eyes on the roof for attics, some folded in at sharp ends making little triangles to an otherwise predictable line.
Inside most of the homes live furnitures to complement the life of residents. As the decor in one of them invited my eyes further through the IKEA like modern interior, green lawn was to be found where the view was ended by wooden fences. In between the open lawn and the carpeted closed living area lies a dining table separated only about half a meter away from hanging lamps suspended like acrobats midair by extendable cords sourced from a glass ceiling.
Suddenly, something, or rather, someone caught my gaze causing me to turn my head 180 degrees. A fair young Dutch lady in red with flowing long blond hair passed by on her bicycle that resembles the world war two black types typical of the common bikes used throughout the country. Other cyclists have been merely glancing curiously at this Oriental faced wanderer in their remote town practically untouched by foreign tourism. But this maiden gave me an adorable smile as she whizzed past and I returned the favour.
The province where this town resides came complete with fascinating dungeons and dragons depicted in castles, one of which I got lost in, and graceful gothic churches with antiques like ones seen at a Christie's catalogue. Going to picturesque Belgium for a waffle with warm cherries and cream to go with Leffe beer and back in an evening, after an earlier visit to a scratch of a German border town is all possible within a quarter of a day. One drives for twelve hours in Australia and is still in the same country.
Like postcards placed next to each other in their own pockets, the two neighbouring countries are so close from here that there exists a place called Drielandenpunt (three land point) as a junction to the borders of Germany, Belgium and The Netherlands. On the lushly covered hill stood a lookout tower. Although the view was censored by dense woods so that only the Netherlands side was visible, what was offered to my eyes was a picture perfect panoramic view of the hilly landscape of South Limburg, bathed under diffused sunlight with the sharp narrow tip of a church and white windmills creating an interesting skyline.
The illusion of living in a postcard picture was further enhanced by a theme park called Mondo Verde at this awesome-threesome spot. The park contains a massive greenhouse sheltering a mini tropical rainforrest. Outside a Japanese garden greeted followed by an Italian whimsical forrest with odd looking creatures and gods in retired poses resting in the fairytale type surrounding with soft solar.
Life sized English, Italian, French, Spannish, Morrocan, Portugese mansions were animated with cafes serving food of the locality of each of the mansions they represent. The atmosphere was festive in each villa as visitors wine and dine with the mirth of music while their retinas feast on the exquisite external and internal decors.
I came out of this living and breathing image usually confined to a two dimensional view feeling somewhat like a children's storybook character. Snow White came to mind as she was my favourite character. If she was living in the world of Mondo Verde, she could have hidden away in one of the many cultural homes and when the evil stepmother came looking, even she would lighten up her uptight behind through the sumptious surroundings while her faithful mirror retires to live with another, nicer looking mistress.
These would stay imprinted in my memory, as no real postcard could ever capture the magic moving beauty of Limburg.
This little town was spotless, the air crisp, and it reminded me of images I saw at a young age of European towns. Little winding roads bordered by Dutch homes of various roofs that look more like assortment of hats. Some alike folded boxes, some with rectangular punctures that look like eyes on the roof for attics, some folded in at sharp ends making little triangles to an otherwise predictable line.
Inside most of the homes live furnitures to complement the life of residents. As the decor in one of them invited my eyes further through the IKEA like modern interior, green lawn was to be found where the view was ended by wooden fences. In between the open lawn and the carpeted closed living area lies a dining table separated only about half a meter away from hanging lamps suspended like acrobats midair by extendable cords sourced from a glass ceiling.
Suddenly, something, or rather, someone caught my gaze causing me to turn my head 180 degrees. A fair young Dutch lady in red with flowing long blond hair passed by on her bicycle that resembles the world war two black types typical of the common bikes used throughout the country. Other cyclists have been merely glancing curiously at this Oriental faced wanderer in their remote town practically untouched by foreign tourism. But this maiden gave me an adorable smile as she whizzed past and I returned the favour.
The province where this town resides came complete with fascinating dungeons and dragons depicted in castles, one of which I got lost in, and graceful gothic churches with antiques like ones seen at a Christie's catalogue. Going to picturesque Belgium for a waffle with warm cherries and cream to go with Leffe beer and back in an evening, after an earlier visit to a scratch of a German border town is all possible within a quarter of a day. One drives for twelve hours in Australia and is still in the same country.
Like postcards placed next to each other in their own pockets, the two neighbouring countries are so close from here that there exists a place called Drielandenpunt (three land point) as a junction to the borders of Germany, Belgium and The Netherlands. On the lushly covered hill stood a lookout tower. Although the view was censored by dense woods so that only the Netherlands side was visible, what was offered to my eyes was a picture perfect panoramic view of the hilly landscape of South Limburg, bathed under diffused sunlight with the sharp narrow tip of a church and white windmills creating an interesting skyline.
The illusion of living in a postcard picture was further enhanced by a theme park called Mondo Verde at this awesome-threesome spot. The park contains a massive greenhouse sheltering a mini tropical rainforrest. Outside a Japanese garden greeted followed by an Italian whimsical forrest with odd looking creatures and gods in retired poses resting in the fairytale type surrounding with soft solar.
Life sized English, Italian, French, Spannish, Morrocan, Portugese mansions were animated with cafes serving food of the locality of each of the mansions they represent. The atmosphere was festive in each villa as visitors wine and dine with the mirth of music while their retinas feast on the exquisite external and internal decors.
I came out of this living and breathing image usually confined to a two dimensional view feeling somewhat like a children's storybook character. Snow White came to mind as she was my favourite character. If she was living in the world of Mondo Verde, she could have hidden away in one of the many cultural homes and when the evil stepmother came looking, even she would lighten up her uptight behind through the sumptious surroundings while her faithful mirror retires to live with another, nicer looking mistress.
These would stay imprinted in my memory, as no real postcard could ever capture the magic moving beauty of Limburg.
posted by cherry at 6:37 PM
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