When you have a Dutch mother, images of windmills are likely going to be a prominent feature throughout your childhood … at least, that’s the reason I give myself for having a love of windmills.
Gilles learned some time ago in our travels that when I squeal ‘WINDMILL!!’ it means I’ve spotted one and want to stop – no, make that I NEED to stop IMMEDIATELY.
On our recent trip to France and Belgium, we unexpectedly encountered a few.
The first time I saw a real windmill was back in high school when I journeyed to Holland with my mom and sister. It was postcard perfect and from that point forward my love of the gentle giants was firmly entrenched.
All the windmills we discovered in Belgium were while cycling. Our accommodations included 2 beat-up old bikes which we took advantage of one sunny day. We quickly understood why there were so many windmills.
Wind! Lots of it!! The gusting, sandstorm kind of wind that left our skin somewhat pink and feeling exfoliated by the end of the day. Glasses were a MUST on this day.
I’ve lost track of which windmill above is Sint-Janshuismolen and which is Koeleweimolen … “molen” meaning “mill” in Dutch. It doesn’t really matter, both are old, dating back to 1770 and 1760 respectively.
Because this is Thursday Doors, and I feel like I’ve been cheating by indulging in my windmill fascination, I have to include a few of the many non-windmill doors also found during our windmill excursion.
Thursday Doors is a weekly photo challenge hosted by Norm Frampton at Norm 2.0. What’s not to love about doors?! … and windmills.