Escape to Paradise: Your Dream Farmhouse Awaits in Waskemeer!
Escape to Paradise: My (Unfiltered) Farmhouse Fiasco in Waskemeer! (and a Few Surprisingly Good Bits)
Okay, buckle up buttercups, because I'm about to spill the tea (and maybe some farm-fresh eggs) on my "dream" getaway to Escape to Paradise in Waskemeer. The brochure, the glossy photos, the promises… they all painted a picture of bucolic bliss. Let's just say reality had a slightly…dirtier brush.
SEO & Metadata Jargon (because apparently, the internet demands it):
- Keywords: Waskemeer Farmhouse, Escape to Paradise, Netherlands, Spa Hotel, Accessible Hotel, Family Friendly, Wellness Retreat, Dutch Countryside, Luxury Stay, Reviews, Honest Reviews, Food, Activities, Accessibility, Cleanliness, Amenities.
- Meta Description: My (slightly chaotic) review of Escape to Paradise in Waskemeer, Netherlands. Unfiltered thoughts on accessibility, food, activities, and the overall experience. Expect honesty, humor, and maybe a little rambling. #Waskemeer #Farmhouse #Netherlands #TravelReview #SpaHotel #AccessibleTravel
First Impressions – The Good (and the Slightly Panicked)
Pulling up to the farmhouse, I have to admit, the exterior was stunning. Think picture-perfect Dutch countryside, rolling green fields, the whole shebang. You know, the stuff they put on postcards to sell you the dream? But then… the gravel driveway. Okay, maybe not ideal for my dodgy ankle. Accessibility is always a big one for me, and this place, well, it's a mixed bag. The main entrance was, thankfully, fairly smooth, but maneuvering around the grounds? Let's just say I got a lot of exercise I wasn't necessarily planning on.
Accessibility: The hotel claims to have facilities for disabled guests (Facilities for disabled guests - ticked!), and they do, sort of. Ramp access was present in some areas (thank goodness for the elevator - Elevator - ticked!), but narrow hallways and doors made navigating a bit…challenging. It felt like they tried, but didn't quite nail it. The bathroom in my room was spacious enough, a big plus (Private bathroom - ticked!) But, I’m not sure the shower was entirely accessible.
The Room – Where Comfy Met Slightly Creepy
My room? (Available in all rooms - Ticked!) Well, it was clean, I'll give it that (Cleanliness and safety - major tick!). The bed was HUGE (Extra long bed - Ticked!), and the blackout curtains were a godsend because, oh boy, the sunlight in the Dutch countryside is fierce (Blackout curtains - Ticked!). I even had a little desk area, which came in handy when I was desperately trying to upload photos to Instagram (Desk - Ticked! - I clearly had work to do!).
But then there were the little things… like the slightly unsettling porcelain doll perched on the windowsill. (Room decorations - are you SURE this is what I wanted?!) And the faint smell of… lavender and something else I couldn't quite place. Let’s say “old books.”
Internet (and The Agony of Modern Life)
Free Wi-Fi in all rooms! (Free Wi-Fi - Ticked!) This was a lifesaver, because honestly, are you even on holiday if you can't check your emails and Instagram? The Wi-Fi was reliable enough, which is a feat in itself, though I did have to actually move to the main corridor to fully upload some photos, ugh! (Internet access – Wireless - Ticked!)
Food, Glorious Food (and the Occasional Food-Related Calamity)
Now, about the food. This is where things get… interesting.
- Breakfast (Breakfast service & Breakfast [buffet] - Ticked!): The breakfast buffet was pretty standard, with a decent selection of cold cuts, cheeses, and pastries. The problem? The crowds. It was like a Black Friday sale for croissants. I'd planned to have hot breakfast in room, but the waiter was in a rush, and my room was 15 minutes away with a dodgy ankle. I gave up on the buffet as I was in danger of needing to be attended by the doctor/nurse on call (Doctor/nurse on call - Ticked!).
- Dinner (Restaurants, A la carte in restaurant - Ticked!): The a la carte dinner menu boasted both Western and international cuisine (International cuisine in restaurant, Western cuisine in restaurant - Ticked!) with choices that leaned for the vegetarian, yet I was surprised to be told the day's soup was unavailable. The service was incredibly slow, and my steak was… well, let's just say it hadn't been introduced to the chef's special care.
- Snacks (Snack bar - Ticked!): Thank god for the snack bar! I grabbed a late-night croquette from the snack bar which was incredibly nice. I have not doubt the other food was good, but I wouldn’t touch food from the kitchen.
Things to Do (and Ways to Pretend to be Relaxed)
The spa… that's where the "Paradise" part should have come in. And, in its own way, it did.
- Spa/Sauna, Steamroom, Massage, Pool with view, Swimming pool [outdoor] - All Ticked!: The sauna was heavenly - nice and hot, and I sweated out all the stress of the internet. The pool had a beautiful view of the fields - which, admittedly, were more interesting to see when I wasn't struggling with my dodgy ankle (Pool with view, Swimming pool [outdoor] - Ticked!).
- Gym/fitness - Ticked!: I didn't even think this was relevant to me until I was sat looking at the sauna (and the snacks), which felt somewhat counter productive. The gym was well-equipped, but who has time to use it?
- Body scrubs, Body wraps, Foot bath - Ticked!: The spa treatments were divine. I indulged in a body scrub (so relaxing!), and the foot bath helped soothe my aching ankle. It was the closest I got to feeling truly relaxed.
Cleanliness and Safety (The Pandemic Version)
In the age of… well, gestures vaguely at the world, cleanliness is paramount. And Escape to Paradise seemed to take it seriously.
- Professional-grade sanitizing services, Daily disinfection in common areas, Room sanitization opt-out available, Rooms sanitized between stays, Hand sanitizer - All Ticked!: Staff were wearing masks, hand sanitizer was everywhere, and the room felt squeaky clean. I noticed the staff using anti-viral cleaning products, which was reassuring.
- Physical distancing of at least 1 meter, Safe dining setup, Sanitized kitchen and tableware items - All Ticked!: They had the distancing thing down pat, and everything felt sanitized.
Services and Conveniences (the "We Tried" Section)
The hotel offered all sorts of services and conveniences, but not all of them were executed perfectly.
- Air conditioning, Daily housekeeping, Laundry service, Luggage storage, Safety deposit boxes, Concierge, Elevator, Facilities for disabled guests, Front desk [24-hour] - All Ticked!: Despite the shortcomings, the staff was generally helpful. The elevator kept failing, but the concierge was nice.
For the Kids (Bless Their Little Hearts)
I saw families everywhere, and Escape to Paradise has a genuine commitment to keeping children happy:
- Babysitting service, Family/child friendly, Kids facilities, Kids meal - All Ticked!: There was a dedicated kids' area, babysitting services, and kid-friendly meals, so I can safely say this hotel is perfect for families!
The Verdict – Paradise Found? (Sort Of)
Escape to Paradise, in a nutshell, is a mixed bag. It's beautiful, generally clean, and tries really hard. The spa is a highlight, and the Dutch countryside is undeniably stunning. However, the accessibility needs work, the food can be hit or miss, and some areas feel a little… unfinished.
Would I go back? Maybe. If they promised to fix the accessibility and step up their kitchen game, I might consider it. But until then? I might just stick to the postcards.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars. (Mostly for the sauna and the view!)
Escape to Paradise: Your Dreamy Bon Relax Flat Awaits in Spain!
Okay, buckle up, buttercup, because this ain't your grandma's perfectly-polished travel itinerary. This is the Waskemeer and Leeuwarden experience, brutally honest, wildly disorganized, and fueled by copious amounts of stroopwafels. Let's do this…
The Waskemeer & Leeuwarden Odyssey: A Frankly Chaotic Adventure (or, How I Learned to Love the Netherlands and My Own Inherent Messiness)
Day 1: Arrival & That Damn Farmhouse (and the Unexpected Drama of a Missing Key)
- Morning (or, more accurately, the time I finally dragged myself out of bed): Okay, the flight was… well, it involved a screaming baby, questionable airplane coffee, and that gleeful feeling of impending jet lag. Arrived in Amsterdam, the usual airport hustle, and then… train to Leeuwarden. The countryside whizzed by – those impossibly green fields, the cows (so. many. cows.), the windmills looking like something out of a storybook. I swear, I almost cried (but maybe that was the lack of sleep).
- Late Afternoon/Early Evening: The Quest for the Quaint Farmhouse (a.k.a. I Started to Question My Life Choices). Finally, the farmhouse in Waskemeer! Picture this: idyllic, right? Well, the reality was… a little more “rustic.” Think charming, but with a layer of “lived-in” (and maybe a few cobwebs… don’t judge me). Finding the bloody key was a saga in itself. The owner’s instructions were vague (bless their hearts), and let’s just say my inner detective skills were sorely tested. After a solid 30 minutes of fumbling, questioning my intelligence, and muttering under my breath (mostly about the Dutch weather), I finally found it! Victory! Followed by immediate regret upon realizing the place was cold as the North Sea.
- Evening: The First Supper & the Deepest Regret (food, fires, and the feeling of being utterly lost). Fumbled together a sad, lonely meal, a microwaved pizza felt luxurious at this point, and struggled to light the fireplace (thankfully the owner had left wood – and a stern note about fire safety). The fire, however, was a godsend. The warmth, the crackling… it was pure magic. Finally, the farmhouse felt like a home. I spent a good hour staring into the flames, thinking about life. Then I got cold again. The pizza was even more grim. Then I went to bed.
Day 2: Leeuwarden’s Charm & a Deep Dive into Friesland (and the Unexpected Delight of a Chocolate Shop)
- Morning: A Leeuwarden Lark (and my questionable map-reading skills). Woke to sunshine (hallelujah!). Leeuwarden beckoned! The city is gorgeous: canals winding everywhere, colorful buildings, and a general air of “relaxed coolness.” My sense of direction? Less reliable. Got hilariously lost trying to find the Oldehove (the leaning tower). Found myself wandering down a cobbled alleyway, stumbled upon a hidden courtyard garden. Pure serendipity! Took my time.
- Midday: More Leeuwarden, more delight. Found this adorable little café on the Nieuwe Markt, the people were friendly, and the coffee was divine. Then came the absolute highlight of the day: stumbling into a chocolate shop. The aroma alone could bring world peace. Everything was handcrafted, filled with fresh ingredients, and downright decadent. Bought way too much, and then proceeded to eat it all in one sitting. Zero regrets.
- Afternoon: Friesland, Forests, and the Art of Doing Absolutely Nothing (and loving it). A long cycle ride into the forest. I found a lovely lake, with the most gorgeous reflections. I sat there for a long time, staring at the water, thinking. It was blissful. Eventually, I just lay on the grass, closing my eyes. The sun on my face. The breeze in my hair. I fell asleep for an hour. The most perfect nap of my life. Pure Zen.
- Evening: Back at the Farmhouse (less pizza, more… cheese). A simple supper of cheese, bread, and wine (much better than the pizza, thank God). Journaling by the fire. And a feeling that maybe, just maybe, I was starting to get the hang of this whole "relaxing" thing.
Day 3: A Day Dedicated to Just Existing
- Morning: The Perfect Breakfast. Freshly baked bread with butter, a beautiful cup of coffee, and a lovely plate of fruit. This was perfect.
- Midday: Repeat. I just enjoyed the farm. I walked towards the forest. I enjoyed a lake view. I read a book. What else is there to do?
- Evening: Back to reality. I had to pack and organize. This was the hardest part. I had to leave this beautiful farm. The thought was tough.
Day 4: Departure (and the Secret Sorrow of Leaving)
- Morning: A final, lingering look at the farmhouse. A sigh. Packed my bag (with a few extra stroopwafels, naturally). Said a silent goodbye to the cobwebs, the key drama, and the slightly wonky fireplace. The drive to the train station felt… bittersweet.
- Afternoon: Train to Amsterdam. The familiar airport chaos. The long flight home, filled with the usual crying babies, questionable coffee, and that gleeful feeling of impending jet lag.
- Evening: Back home. The quiet. The routine. A deep sense of contentment. And a vow to return to Waskemeer (and maybe find some decent mapping skills) as soon as humanly possible.
Final Thoughts (aka, My Rambling Epilogue):
Look, this trip wasn't perfect. There were moments of frustration, moments of utter boredom (in the BEST possible way), and a few (okay, many) instances where I questioned my very sanity. But that's the beauty of it, right? It was messy, it was real, and it was mine. And the Netherlands? It's a weird, wonderful place. And I can’t wait to go back. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to find some more stroopwafels.
Escape to Paradise: Your Dream Camargue Holiday Home Awaits!
Escape to Paradise: Your Dream Farmhouse Awaits in Waskemeer! - FAQs (Because Let's Face It, You Need to Know!)
Okay, so *Paradise*? Really? Living in Waskemeer… is it *actually* paradise?
Alright, alright. Let's get one thing straight: "Paradise" might be a *slight* exaggeration. Look, Waskemeer isn't the Maldives. It's not. It’s more like… well, imagine Grandma's house, but *without* the constant smell of mothballs (hopefully!). It's quiet. Really, *really* quiet. My first night, I swear I heard a snail sneeze. Seriously. It took some getting used to. The nearest supermarket? A thirty-minute bike ride if you're feeling optimistic about the wind. Think "quaint" crossed with "slightly isolated." But… there's a charm. A certain… *je ne sais quoi* of slow living that creeps up on you. You'll be battling the occasional flock of geese trying to steal your prized tomatoes, but the sunsets over the polder at the end of a long day? Absolutely dreamy. So, paradise? Maybe a slightly wonky, slightly charming kind of paradise. And let's be real, I'm not a huge fan of crowds so, yeah, paradise. For me anyway.
What's the farmhouse *actually* like? You know, beyond the marketing photos?
Oh, the farmhouse! Here's the unvarnished truth: it's old. Like, "been-standing-since-your-great-great-grandparents-were-toddlers" old. The photos definitely hid a few... character flaws. Like the slightly wonky floors (you get used to the subtle slant – it's like a permanent funhouse!). And the plumbing? Well, let's just say it has a personality of its own. Sometimes, the shower decides to give you a lukewarm drizzle for five minutes, then suddenly erupt with a hot volcanic blast. The roof leaks *very* occasionally. But hey, character, right? *Sigh* But the kitchen… oh, the kitchen! It's surprisingly spacious, and I can actually cook in it, a welcome change from the cramped apartment I had before. It's the heart of this place, and it actually *feels* like home. Despite everything. And the fireplace. *Swoon*. Don't even get me started.
Is it suitable for someone who isn't, you know, a seasoned farmer? Because I’m more of a "houseplant survives on neglect" kind of person.
Look, I’m not going to lie: I’m pretty much in the same boat. I thought "farming" involved mostly Instagram filters and strategically posed hay bales. Wrong! The land is… well, it's land. It requires work. A *lot* of work! I've learned more about weeds than I ever thought possible. And I've developed a deep and abiding respect for cows (they're surprisingly judgemental, by the way). You don't need to be a farmer *per se*, but you do need to be prepared to get your hands dirty. And maybe cry a little when your prized zucchini plants get devoured by slugs. (Okay, I did. I *really* did.) There's a steep learning curve. But it’s… good. Really good. There’s a satisfaction in seeing something you’ve nurtured grow. Even if it's just a slightly less pathetic looking tomato plant. Plus, the neighbours are ridiculously helpful. They’ll teach you everything, and then probably chuckle behind your back as you bumble around. But in a nice way. Sort of.
What are the neighbors like? Are they going to be judging my city ways?
Oh, the neighbors! This is a big one. Here's the deal: Waskemeer is a *community*. Think of it as a massive, slightly eccentric family. And yes, they *will* notice your city ways. The perfectly manicured lawn? They'll raise an eyebrow. The expensive city boots? They'll chuckle. The fact that you can't tell the difference between a chicken and a pigeon? Well, that's a conversation starter. Initially, I felt so out of place. I was this complete outsider, the "city slicker" who knew nothing. I stumbled through conversations, mispronounced Dutch words, and felt like a total idiot. But you know what? They're incredibly welcoming. They're curious. They’re helpful. They bring over fresh eggs and homemade jam (which, by the way, is *divine*). They'll teach you how to milk a cow (though I'm still not very good at it, and the cow thinks I'm an idiot). They'll probably laugh at your mistakes, but they'll also cheer you on. And they'd offer a helping hand in a blink of an eye, which makes it all worth it.
Is there any decent internet access? (Because, you know, civilization and all that.)
Okay, let's address the elephant in the room: the internet. It’s… adequate. Let's leave it at that. Streaming HD movies? Forget about it. Zoom calls? Pray your connection doesn't decide to stage a dramatic exit mid-sentence. It's a slow, sometimes frustrating internet. But honestly? It's also kind of liberating. It forces you to, you know, *live* in the moment. Read a book. Stare at the sunset. Actually talk to people face-to-face. (Gasp!) I’ve found myself doing more of all those things. So, it's not ideal, but I wouldn't trade the slower pace for anything. (Okay, maybe faster internet would be nice sometimes, but shhh, don't tell anyone I said that.) *Maybe I should consider a satellite or something...*
What do you *do* all day? Besides, you know, trying not to get lost?
All day? Oh, the adventures! It started with simple things, like getting acclimated, figuring out how to keep the lights on, and understanding that the "mowing" is a *serious* undertaking, involving more than just pushing a lawnmower. It's an entire *orchestration* involving the weather, the tractor, and a deep understanding of grass. Then there's the gardening. Which I'm still learning. There's always something. Fixing things, learning the local customs, getting to know the people around. It's constant, really. I spend a lot of time just *being*. Drinking coffee on the porch, watching the clouds drift by, listening to the wind rustle through the trees. Walking the dog (who now has a completely different concept of "walking"). Reading books. Writing. Exploring the local area. There’s a whole new world out here. And sometimes? I do absolutely nothing. And that, my friends, is perhaps the greatest luxury of all. It’s a very slow kind of life, but it's a good life.
Any downsides? Because, come on, it can't all be idyllic buttercups and rainbows.
