



Photos by Netherlands Board of Tourism and Conventions
by Rich Rubin
I'm walking through the Amsterdam neighborhood known as the Jordaan,
admiring this wonderfully bohemian area full of shops and galleries. Strolling
along tiny canals past boutiques and hip restaurants, I notice on Engelantiersgracht
a simple black door. Almost without thinking, I open it.
Suddenly I'm in a different world, transported through time and
space from the modern urban rush. In front of me lies a peaceful courtyard,
surrounded by brick houses, with a flower bed at the center girded by
a brick walk. An evergreen reposes in a circle of brick, among lush ferns
and tall roses. Square beds hold pink geraniums, coral-hued roses, and
lilies of the valley. A doorway to the left of the entrance is flanked
by clay pots overflowing with yellow flowers; another portal is framed
by a spreading vine known here as leimbecken ("lion's mouth").
A huge white hortensia competes for attention with burgeoning rhododendrons.
DUTCH HOFJE
I've discovered the world of the Dutch "hofje," in this case
the SintAndrieshof, founded in 1616 and Amsterdam's oldest hofje. You'll
find these hidden courtyards throughout the Netherlands; founded originally
as almshouses, they were built by private citizens or companies to provide
housing for the poor. Charity pays off in more ways than one, as the tradition
of building this housing has left a lasting legacy in delight both for
the residents and for visitors.
The setup is usually the same: low-slung houses, arranged around
courtyards; historical plaques often give the hofje's history,
and you'll frequently see the original pump used by residents before the
days of running water. While technically private, I haven't encountered
many that don't allow visitors. In fact, in Leiden and Haarlem, the two
"gold mines" for the hofje-phile, the local tourist boards offer maps
guiding you to them. While there are actually more in the big cities--Amsterdam
has almost 50, the Hague nearly that many as well--the concentration is
greater, the hofje touring easier, in the smaller cities.
Can you tell I've developed a hofje obsession? I soon visit hofjes
great and small, filled with students or elderly, boasting gardens
prim or untamed. It's the variety, I think, that keeps them interesting.
In the Hague for instance, I love the grand Hofje van Nieuwkoop
(1658), marked by a fancy medallion on Prinsegracht, and entered
around the corner. A desirable, upscale residence, it boasts red-shuttered
buildings surrounding a huge courtyard, divided by hedges into individual
sections: one (--does it belong to an American expatriate?--) has a red,
white, and blue theme (roses, daisies, and irises); another is a market
garden of peas, chives, strawberries, and carrots; a third holds a huge
rosemary bush surrounded by pink and orange. It's about the largest and
fanciest I've seen.
But I also adore tiny Rusthof (1831) on Parkstraat, whose simple
buildings are livened by trellises covered in roses; and the
Heilige Geesthofje (1616), where white brick dwellings front plantings
of white roses, purple cattails, yellow begonias, and pink geraniums in
four landscaped squares. Let the workers scurry to the offices and meeting
places of this governmental center; let the tourists visit the amazing
Mauritshaus museum and other sights. I'm happy sitting under a centuries-old
pear tree, envisioning the many lives that have passed through this charming
escape, imagining the canal that used to run outside the hofje, all the
way to Amsterdam.
35 HOFJES IN LEIDEN
As a total hofje devotee, I
must head to Leiden, just fifteen minutes from The Hague and a lovely
university town. But I'm not here to see the age-old spires, ancient step-gables
or hip student lanes. I'm here--you guessed it--for the hofjes. I stop
in the tourist board for a map/tour of the hofjes (over 35 in all), and
soon I'm in arboreal heaven beneath the stately cypresses of Brouchovenhofje
(1631).
A few mintues later, I'm in the Hoogeveenshofje (1650), where
I admire the wee pink geraniums contrasting nicely with the purples
of lavender and salvia, the original copper faucet adorning the stone
pump. A sign reads, "Elderly women living here were obliged to wash themselves
at least once a month," giving an entertaining glimpse into the
past; similarly, nearby San Salvator-hofje (1636) is filled with students
now, but was first built for "honest virgins or widows." How, I wonder,
did they make sure someone qualified?
More than anything, though, the hofjes are a visual treat, from
plantings in Loridanshofje (1655) arranged in the shape of a
cross to the neatly laid out rhododendrons and roses in Jean Pesijnhofje
(1655). Even as I look past these to the flourishing hydrangeas, though,
I'm confronted with history: one of our own Pilgrim fathers, John Robinson,
lived on this piece of land before it was a hofje. Modern-day pilgrims
are welcomed with a sign that reads, "Thank you for coming such a long
way to see us" while gently reminding us to "Refrain from discussing your
exploits on the premises."
PEACE AND QUIET A PLUS
I can hardly blame them,
as it's the peace and quiet that's the main appeal of the hofjes both
for visitors and inhabitants. As I move on to Haarlem, just fifteen minutes
from Amsterdam, this point is driven home: in Hofje Van Bakenes, founded
in 1395, the only sounds are a fountain tricking placidly in a bed of
ferns and birds fluttering through the trees, perhaps headed for the birdbath
surrounded by daises at the hofje's center. It's a study in color: white
buildings with green shutters, dark purple tulips below a red maple. I'm
so caught up in the beauty that I hardly think of the history till it
hits me: this place has been here for more than 600 years! It is, in fact,
the oldest hofje in the Netherlands.
Haarlem's tourist board offers Monumental and Flemish map/guides;
both include a good number of the city's 20 or so hofjes. Following
the pair of maps past glorious St. Bavo's church, past Grote Markt (the
huge central square), down the shopper's mecca Bartel Joris-straat, I
arrive at Hofje Van Oorschot (1769), which has an airy, minimalist style;
the buildings are tall, the center is quite open, the plantings pretty
but not overgrown like some I've seen.
Frans Loenenhofje (1525) has a similarly minimal approach, with
lots of lawn traversed by paths and edged in flowers. What it
lacks in profusion, though, it makes up for in color, with scarlet fuschia,
plum-hued irises, orange roses and a sprinkling of light blue forget-me-nots.
Haarlem also wins the "grandest hofje entrances" prize, from the red-and-cream-striped
brick archway of Luthers Hofje (1648) to the entryway to Hofje
van Staats (1730), with bas relief of a woman's face and angels soaring
above, clutching a medallion with a portrait of a man.
Back in Amsterdam, I walk right past the much-touristed Dam Square,
past the Rijksmuseum and Van Gogh Museum. I know what I'm looking
for now, and the PieterJansz Suyckerhoff Hofje (1670) fits the
bill perfectly. Established for elderly or widowed women who were "honest, of good
behavior, and peaceminded," it's a lovely haven of red fuschia, white
hortensia and multi-colored roses. A golden rain tree and a Japanese
cherry fill the courtyard with color; a ceramic urn of red geraniums
shows up brightly against the black-painted panel of the pump.
MOST COLORFUL
I pass by the Begijnhof, Amsterdam's
most famous courtyard; though it's beautiful, and has some of the city's
oldest buildings, it doesn't qualify as a hofje since it was founded by
self-sufficient residents and not as an almshouse. Instead, I explore
Zon's Hofje (1755), full of prunes, lindens, maples and palms. In front
of dark brick buildings, two tables hold paints and other craft supplies
(someone here's been doing a project!); a plaque of Noah's Ark is all
that survives of a church that was once here.
I visit Hofje van Brienen (1806), which still has several old
"secrets" (the tasteful Dutch word for public toilets), and a
lovely collection of mini-gardens on residents' steps from electric blue
hydrangea to miniature hortensia.
As I head down Tuinstraat to yet another hofje, I ask my guide
what the word "tuin" means. The reply: it's the Dutch word for
both "town" and "garden." In a country where flowers are so highly
prized, where doors lead into secret worlds of centuries-old almshouses
with flourishing plantings, why am I not surprised?
ET EXTRA
All of these cities are close enough together that you can base
yourself in Amsterdam and make day trips (I suggest Amsterdam's lovely
Hotel 717 or the fun new Lloyd's Hotel, with a wide range of rates).
While in Amsterdam, don't miss the creative new cookery of Voorbij
het Einde (on the fascinating architectural showcase Java Island), the
farm-fresh food at De Kas (in the city's onetime municipal greenhouse),
or the creative culinary wizardry of Beddington's at the heart of town.
Hotel des Indes in the Hague has been spectacularly remodeled,
while diners love the trendy/wonderful Dekxels or the Indonesian Djawa.
Just on the outskirts of Leiden is a wonderful hotel/restaurant, De Beukenhof,
while Stempels is Haarlem's leading spot for lodging and dining.
For more information, contact the Netherlands Board of Tourism,
For more information, contact the Netherlands Board of Tourism and Conventions,
888-GOHOLLAND, www.holland.com.











