Originally published on September 14, 2025
We got up today and drove to Maastricht, just across the border from Belgium in the Netherlands. After passing through an incredibly long tunnel to reach the parking ramp, we made our way to Vrijthof Square. We stopped at a café for breakfast and were surprised at the huge plates of food—Peggy was definitely caught off guard when her order arrived with three fried eggs!
The square is framed by two impressive churches: the Basilica of Saint Servatius, a Romanesque church that holds the relics of Saint Servatius (the city’s patron saint), and the Church of Saint John, known for its striking red tower. Both were closed for Sunday services, though the Basilica had a small chapel open where we could quietly step inside for a moment. I joked that maybe Jesus just doesn’t like tourists gawking around on Sundays.
As we walked the square, we noticed a strange collection of life-sized sculptures—musicians frozen mid-stride, cymbals raised, tubas puffed, trumpets blaring. These are ‘t Zaat Hermenieke, a colorful set of statues celebrating Maastricht’s carnival tradition. In the local dialect, the name roughly means “drunk orchestra,” which fits perfectly once you see their animated poses. The figures stand right on the ground among the people, giving the funny impression that they could march off into the festival at any moment.
Next, we wandered over to the Helpoort, the oldest surviving city gate in the Netherlands, dating back to 1229. We climbed some steps onto the old city wall, then wandered toward the sleek modern Hoeg Brögk pedestrian bridge. From there, we looked out at the Meuse River, which also flows through Dinant, connecting our stops across two countries.
After figuring out how to get out of the parking labyrinth, we set off to find some windmills we’d heard about. Our scorecard ended up being zero for two, but we finally spotted a third one—an old stone mill standing solitary in the fields. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get very close to it. Maybe Jesus doesn’t want tourists near windmills on Sundays either.
To top it off, the new memory card I put in my camera gave me an error, so I lost about ten photos—including the windmill shots. Glad I found out before I filled the card further, though. I can live with losing those ten pics.
