We left the shipyard behind and headed along the canals and through the bridges of Harlingen. We called the bridge master on our cellphone and arranged for five bridges to be opened for us. At our first bridge we waited for the bridge master to arrive, but instead of an old man, two hunky young guys showed up on their bicycles; they were the bridge masters.
They obviously loved their cycle job and were in good shape as they raced past us to halt the traffic and prepare the next bridge. Pedestrians, cyclists and motorists waited as the bridges closed and they did not seem to mind the delay as they admired the boat and wished us a wonderful vacation. Others waved as we meandered through their backyards. The last two bridges were next to each other, the road bridge and the rail bridge, and they were hauled up simultaneously. The hunks waved us goodbye and wished us a pleasant journey. There were no toll fees involved.
Out in the countryside, with cattle curiously watching us glide by, the bridges were getting smaller and lower. The lowest was 2.16 meters and we slid under it with a few centimetres to spare. The only ones lower were only a metre or so above the water, but movable, and we had to call for the local bridge master for their opening. The bridge masters are polite, courteous, helpful and they all seem to come with a sense of humour, some are even hunky.
We are now pleasantly moored in the town of Workum where we intend staying for two days taking in a few bicycle trips to nearby towns, supermarkets and fabric shops.
Have we mentioned that we absolutely love Friesland?
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