Hillegom, Amsterdam and the Arrival of Saint Nicholas

Hillegom, The Netherlands

November 15, 2015

Latitude 52º 17 N

First things first... one doesn't travel to Central Europe in the middle of November for the weather. While it wasn't exactly “a dark and stormy night” sort of scenario, it was far from “gloriously warm and sunny.” And all of this was just fine with me. I'd come to Europe to experince the start of the Christmas Season and I was quite happy have what I've always called “St. Nicholas weather”--cold days, gray skies, rain and the hope of snow.

I'd arrived at Schipol Airport fifteen hours after I'd arrived at the airport in Montreal. I'd gotten there early the day before only to find that the flight to Amsterdam would be four ours late. Oh, to have checked KLM's webpage earlier.

I was a zombie the first day I arrived, Friday, but far better by Saturday when Lomme and I walked Hillegom's main canal to watch the arrival of Saint Nicholas. I could barely contain myself, having waited a very long time to see this. It was cloudy and light drizzle fell much of the day. The sky was spectral gray, but all of these things hardly dampened my mood. I was as excited as the little kids who'd come with their parents. Unlike them, though, I'd come to watch this purely as a cultural observation. While St. Nicholas has nothing to do with Christmas, Christmas, on the other hand, has a whole lot to do with the good Saint.

We arrived at the Ringvaart Canal just in time to see two small boats trolling down the canal. These boats were filled with loads of Black Peter's, St. Nicholas' helper, who were throwing small bags of candy to kids on land. I was content just to watch. Following the small boats was a much larger boat carrying The Saint himself in the front, with another entourage of Black Pete's and a band playing a combination of traditional St. Nicholas Day tunes and Dixie Land jazz, including “When the Saint's Go Marching In,” which made me chuckle. As an American, you're never far from your own culture.

Once these boats passed us, we walked the half kilometer to Hillegom's town square. There were hundreds of people waiting in front of the Rathuis, where the mayor would personally meet St. Nicholas. Well, I wasn't disappointed. I pushed my way forward and had a front row seat, as it were, to see a local school's cadet corps and marching band escort the Saint, who was riding in a vintage early 1930's Ford. He was dressed all in a red robe, wore a red mitre and carried a large shepard's hook He looked nothing like Santa Claus, but our image of Santa Claus is historically liked to his image. He was very much the bishop he was supposed to be.

The kids were agog, just as I was. Hey, for the first time I got a chance to see the real thing, and I was excited. But this poor Saint Nicholas—he looked so unhappy, so dour. Where was his joy, his joie-de-vivre? He must have left it in Spain where he and Black Pete allegedly spend the rest of the year.

And that was is for Hillegom. The next day Lomme, Ina and I made our way to the train station in Haarlem where we met their daughter, Marlijn and their new grandson, Koen A quick train ride to Amsterdam and a longer walk to the Shipper's Canal where we were just in time to see a literal parade of boats filled with myriads of Black Pete's and people out for a good time. More than one of the these smaller boats had jazz bands and small combos on them. At the end, the boat carrying St. Nicholas was much larger than Hillegom's and carried far more people. And in front, waving happily, was a much more cheerful St. Nick! This was the real thing!

We lingered a bit, met Joris, Marlijn's husband, who was one of the Black Pete's on roller blades who helped maintain control, not that any control was needed.

Joris, as were all Black Petes, was dressed in medieval garb and had his face painted black. Pete's origins date to the mid 19^th Century when he first appeared in a children's book as Nicholas' attendant. The author depicted him as black and dressed in Moorish clothing of the Renaissance. The tradition has continued.

And that was that! Unlike a Santa Claus parade Thanksgiving weekend, St. Nicholas would not park himself in a Mall for the next few weeks 'til St. Nicholas Day. He'd make visits to schools and nursing homes, but he really wouldn't return until his feast day, December 6^th when he'd leave goodies in childrens' shoes. Pete, on the other hand, would leave switches to children who weren't all that good.

After lunch, it was Lomme and me. Our goal: now that St. Nicholas had arrived in the harbor, he'd now enter the city via his horse. The parade reminded me of a classic weekend-after-Thanksgiving Santa Claus parade sponsored by local businesses. Different stores had different floats, but none were Christmas related. Instead, there were heaps of Black Petes (Lomme said more than 5,000 had volunteered) who handed out candy and small gingerbread cookies.

By parade's end the Saint had appeared, and unlike is Hillegom counterpart, this one was clearly enjoying his role. He rode his white horse slowly and retraced his steps on both of side of the street, so all could get a good, long glimpse of him.

No sooner was he there, then we was gone. Like the Santa Claus he would become, he was just as illusive.

But what a great two days. I'd wanted to see this for a very long time and I finally did. This was just the beginning, though. Once Advent begins, I will switch gears to Christmas markets.

The fun was just beginning.