This is what his tent camp may have looked like. William of Orange, Father of the Fatherland, raised an army in 1568 to drive the Spaniards out of the Netherlands. At the beginning of the Eighty Years' Liberation War, the Water Beggars bobbed on boats and the ground troops camped in tents. And with a little imagination, that row of white tents at Landgoed Lindehof in Blesdijke looks like one of those army camps of our uncle Willem. In 2022 there are of course some differences with then. Under the canvas of our glamp tent are a comfortable bed and sofa and mustache fridge and kerosene heater. Instead of a latrine, you have a private bathroom at your disposal. Things Willem and his comrades in arms could not dream of yet.
Nor does the iron horse, which faithfully waits next to our tent for you to press the start button. You start this route in Willemsoord at De Steen, named after a large boulder at the intersection of Steenwijkerweg and Koningin Wilhelminalaan. Willemsoord was the third colony of Benevolence, which was stamped out of the waste ground in this area at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Because the Willems van Oranje helped to pay and because it is of course great advertising when the royal family commits itself to your business, the colonies were given names of Orange. That's why Willem's name is on the place name sign that we pass.

In Oldemarkt near Carrosso there is an impressive collection of beautiful cars in the showrooms that you can view, possibly with coffee. It is not a place where you score an eight-hand Kadettje, more an establishment where the Princes Bernhard come to smash their gilded piggy banks. And perhaps the current crown-bearer Willem A. van O. of DH Rietlanden, water, swamp forests and the occasional mill determine the view in the Weerribben. The landscape has been shaped by human hands through peat extraction. The peat was transported further inland from Ossenzijl. When the peat market collapsed, the Ossenzijlers switched to processing reed. The town is idyllically situated at a junction of waterways and has a number of striking churches that we admire as we drive past. At Kuinre you greet Mr. and Mrs. Stork, turn right to Slijkenburg where a memorial stone commemorates the role this redoubt played in the Eighty Years' War. And then the motorcycle tires roll on over the high, narrow and winding Lindedijk. This beautiful road takes you to the Stellingwerf without oncoming traffic or tailgaters. Your bike hums along straight, but again empty roads through small-scale landscapes on the sandy ridges and a wide openness of land and sky. Already at the beginning of the fourteenth century, so well before our Willem, the Stellingwerfs separated themselves from Drenthe and its lord, the bishop of Utrecht. Just like their Frisian neighbours, the Stellingwervers highly valued their freedom. In the nineteenth century they developed into peat-colonial settlements, which outflanked the original farming villages. The wharves also provided shelter for desperados, people who no longer wanted to live under the regime of the Colonies of Benevolence. If you managed to build a sod hut with a smoking chimney in one night, you could continue to live there. That was also the case in Noordwolde. The people of Noordwolde also became proficient in cane and rattan weaving, and in 1908 the Rijksriet braiders school was even founded. This monumental building now houses the National Reed Braid Museum. You view the interesting exhibition full of domestic and foreign wickerwork art. Then you cross the street for a royal lunch at restaurant Tramhalteplein.

Johan Cruyff already said it. 'You only see it when you know it.' If you pay attention to it, you will see Willempie everywhere. After Willemsoord, Willemstad is now on the route roll. Willemstad turns out to be no more than a street sign on an asphalt road that turns into an unpaved cart track. Next stop: Wilhelminahoeve, ie the sign at the so-called camping site and then the tires continue to roll through the forest past Oude Willem. If you imagine a gnarly poaching and lumberjack inn here, you will be disappointed. Like Willemstad, Oude Willem is no more than a sign on a post. Doesn't matter, it's nice to drive here. You will come across a few tufts of the once vast raised moor areas along the way. In the Fochteloërveen and further on after Dieverbrug also at Rheeveld and Brunnigerveld. Cars and trucks draw a long line on the horizon, but in the middle of this natural setting you are alone with your samples.

Via the Oranjekanaal and Oranjeoord you hum contentedly to Wilhelminaoord. It goes on, at unbridled speed, only slowed down by speed bumps and 30 or 60 km per hour instructions. It would make you a desperado.
Open to visitors... Along the road, the inscription on a facade attracts attention. Hoeve Koning Willem III is open to visitors. Aaldert and Ruth Middelwijk are happy to receive visitors there, to show them something about their dairy farm. Please call or email in advance, because the cows and calves also deserve attention, just like their four children and dog Gijs. The former horse stable has now been transformed into luxurious holiday apartments where William of Orange and his cronies would be happy to stay. The barn with those letters on it along the road has yet to be converted into a visitor information center.

After the Willempies, Wilhelminas and other Orange stuff, you can also hoist Frederik on board. Fredriksoord was the first of the Colonies of Benevolence for which Willempie gave his blessing and some money with a crown instead of a half helmet. The exhibition of Museum De Proefkolonie kicks you into the poor past of this region. But if you prefer to end this tour in the Grand Café, all Willempies are fine with that too.