My expectations for the tulip fields of Lisse, just outside Amsterdam, were of the former class of great. I have dreamed of visiting the tulip fields since I first went to Amsterdam, almost 10 years ago, whilst studying abroad in college. The tulip season runs for about 6 weeks, from late March to mid-May, and if you've ever seen photos of these fields in full bloom, you can understand why my expectations were so great in size. Fields of bright colours, extending as far as the eye can see. A stunning work of art, signed by nature. We've been talking about visiting these fields since we moved here, and this weekend, made the trip. Suffice it to say, my expectations were bordering on grandiose. And, true to form, could only fall short. Unfortunately, after arriving late Friday night, we woke up on Saturday morning to discover that the fields of tulips have yet to blossom at all this year. We visited Keukenhof Gardens, which, to be fair, is showing the early signs of spring, with a large amount of different flowers in bloom, and a few pots of tulips scattered throughout (which Bryan reckons were probably grown inside, then transplanted to the outdoors, hence being in full bloom long before the tulip fields have shown any colour). But beyond the maintained grounds of the gardens, the rolling fields of tulips have yet to mature this year. The one colour to be seen is that of the daffodil fields, which are breathtaking in themselves, but alone at the moment in their plight to prove that spring has arrived. From an artistic standpoint, spring in Lisse is a work in progress for the time being. The canvas has been prepped and primed, the yellow daffodils have been completed, and now, visitors must sit back and patiently await the rest of the painter's palette.
Inside Keukenhof Gardens
Having finished up at the Keukenhof Gardens by about 1:00 on Saturday afternoon, we decided, with a bit of hesitation and disappointment, to abandon the expectation of and search for blossomed tulip fields, and change our course of action all together. Thus began the rest of our weekend, the portion of our trip that came with no expectations at all (well, at least none that I was aware of at the time). We walked back to our hotel, rented his and hers bicycles from the hotel lobby, grabbed a map outlining the 24 km round-trip route to the sea, and headed west. And, it was, absolutely grand in outcome. With the sun shining overhead, and bicycle paths largely uncluttered (a definite advantage to arriving early in the tulip season), we cycled through the countryside, parked our bicycles at the start of the sand dunes, took off our shoes, and hiked the rest of the way to the seaside.
Heading west, to the Sea
We walked a bit along the coastline, taking photos and enjoying the warm sea breeze. As I stared off in the distance, contemplating how wonderful the afternoon had turned out after all, I turned around to see Bryan, kneeling in the sand. On just one knee. To be honest, I was in such a state of surprise that I don't remember all of what he said. But, what I can tell you, is that he did ask me to marry him, and I did say yes!
I spent the next hour asking him all sorts of questions, as I am sure most women do. Perhaps my favourite story is that of the ring itself, which has been in the making for about 8 months now. Some of you may remember our Australian friends, Matt and Nicole, who moved back home last July (featured in our blog article Homeward Bound #1). Well, Matt is a jeweler by trade, and with Bryan's input (only knowing that I like a square princess cut, with a yellow stone), designed and created a stunning ring that passed through UK customs about 3 weeks ago, in preparation for this weekend. What I love about the ring, aside from it being perfect for me and my personality, is that it was created by someone we know, someone we became friends with on this adventure in London, someone we actually met for the first time in San Sebastian, Spain, my favourite place on earth. Thus, the ring carries with it the spirit of our lives in London, the sentiments of our holiday last year in San Sebastian, and the specialness of an Aussie couple that we will forever call our friends. We closed out the day with an evening walk and Italian dinner in Amsterdam, overlooking one of the city's lovely canals.
Now, that is a lesson in great expectations. And, as it turns out, a touch of yellow is the only colour this canvas needed after all.
Love to you all!-B&B
"The best things in life are unexpected, because there were no expectations." - Eli Khamarov
