A Journey Back in Time: Mansi’s Netherlands Adventure with Her Sister
Mansi had always been a dreamer. Born in the Netherlands, she had spent the first four years of her life in Amsterdam, a city her parents described with fond nostalgia. But when her father’s job transferred the family to India, the tulip fields, cobblestone streets, and the gentle lapping of Amsterdam’s canals became distant echoes, buried under the memories of a vibrant Indian upbringing.
One rainy afternoon, while flipping through an old photo album, Mansi stumbled upon a faded picture of herself as a toddler. She stood grinning by an Amsterdam canal, bundled in a woollen coat, her tiny fingers clasping her elder sister Rhea’s hand. That single image stirred something deep within her—a yearning to revisit the place where the photo was taken, to relive a piece of her childhood she barely remembered.
“Rhea, do you remember this?” Mansi asked, holding up the photo to her sister, who was curled up on the couch with a book.
Rhea smiled wistfully. “Of course, I do. That was near Prinsengracht, wasn’t it? We used to visit there on Sunday afternoons.”
Mansi’s decision was instant. “Let’s go back. Let’s visit the Netherlands, just the two of us.”
A Return to the Land of Canals
The sisters arrived in Amsterdam on a mellow autumn morning, the air tinged with the scent of dried leaves and fresh stroopwafels from nearby stalls. Mansi felt a flutter of excitement as the city unfolded before her—the charming canals, gabled houses, and bicycles whizzing by were both familiar and foreign.
Their first stop was Prinsengracht, the canal from the photo. Mansi and Rhea walked hand in hand, just as they had in the picture, marvelling at how little had changed. They found the exact spot where the photo had been taken and recreated the moment.
“I remember how you refused to walk and made Dad carry you the rest of the way,” Rhea teased, and Mansi burst into giggles. They spent some time reminiscing, and the world seemed to spin back in time.
Exploring the Dutch Essence
From there, the sisters set out to explore Amsterdam’s many treasures. Their next stop was the Anne Frank House, a poignant reminder of resilience and hope. Walking through the hidden annexe where Anne Frank and her family had lived during World War II, Mansi felt an inexplicable connection. “It’s amazing how a place can hold so much history,” she said softly to Rhea.
For a change of ambience, they headed to the Van Gogh Museum, where the vivid colours of Van Gogh’s masterpieces seemed to leap off the walls. Rhea, an art enthusiast, couldn’t contain her excitement as she explained the stories behind the paintings. Mansi, on the other hand, found herself drawn to self-portraits, stunned at the artist’s ability to capture raw emotion.
A Day in the Dutch Countryside
No trip to the Netherlands would be complete without a visit to its iconic countryside. The sisters took a short train ride to Zaanse Schans, a quaint neighbouring village. With its traditional windmills, wooden houses, and lush green fields, it was a slice of serenity.
Mansi and Rhea toured a windmill that had been converted into a working spice grinder. They even tried their hand at making Dutch clogs, laughing as their attempts resulted in misshapen wooden shoes. “This is harder than it looks!” Mansi exclaimed, holding up her wonky creation.
Lunch was a simple but satisfying meal of poffertjes—tiny, fluffy pancakes dusted with powdered sugar. As they ate by the river, Mansi felt a wave of contentment wash over her.
Rekindling Childhood Joy in Keukenhof
Although it wasn’t tulip season, the sisters couldn’t resist visiting Keukenhof, the world-famous flower garden. Even without the tulips in full bloom, the sprawling gardens were breathtaking, with vibrant autumn hues replacing the usual riot of spring colours.
“This place is magical,” Mansi said, twirling like a child in the middle of a garden path, while Rhea snapped pictures, capturing her sister’s unfiltered joy.
The Magic of Delft and Giethoorn
Their journey continued to Delft, a charming town famous for its blue-and-white pottery. Wandering through its cobblestone streets, Mansi felt as if she had stepped into a different world. They visited a pottery workshop where artisans meticulously painted delicate designs on ceramics.
Next was Giethoorn, often called the “Venice of the North.” The sisters rented a small boat and navigated the serene waterways, passing under wooden bridges and alongside picturesque thatched-roof cottages. The quiet beauty of the village was a stark contrast to the bustling streets of Amsterdam.
Bidding Farewell with a Promise
Their trip ended where it had begun—in Amsterdam. On their final evening, the sisters strolled along the canal once more, the city lights reflecting off the water like scattered stars. They shared stories from their childhood and marvelled at how this trip had brought them closer, not just to the Netherlands but to each other.
As they sat by the canal, Mansi turned to Rhea. “Thank you for coming with me. This trip… it’s filled a part of me I didn’t even know was missing.”
Rhea smiled, her eyes glistening. “You know, Dad always said the Netherlands is where we started our journey as a family. Coming back here, I can see why he loved it so much.”
Mansi replied, “And now we have fallen in love in a whole new way with this place. I wish to come here often…with our parents.”
Read More: Thrillophilia Netherlands Review