One of the things I like most about Europe is the tradition of preserving its artifacts and old structures for all to see and feel, giving you a hands on connection to history. Castle Muiderslot is just the ticket for a pleasing day trip by car, cycling or public transport. Especially if you have a thing for castles. Like I do.
Located mid way between Amsterdam and Hilversum, 17 kilometers from the city center, it should take you little more than an hour by bike.
The medieval castle, a UNESCO World Heritage site, has a mysterious history as colorful as any attraction in the Netherlands. Its first resident was Count Floris V who built the castle in 1285. Floris V was a staunch supporter of the French who later decided to invade the Netherlands. But the reign of Floris V was short lived when he was overthrown and imprisoned in his very own dungeon. Subsequently he was killed in a bloody coup in 1296. His image still adorns the walls in various paintings placed throughout the castle.
Walking form the Herald room to the Knight’s Hall you acquaint yourself with how people lived in medieval times. I was surprised to see the number of toilets they had at their disposal. Go figure.
The winding steps of the south tower spiral upward to the sentry walk where the castle guards kept a watchful eye for enemies. Here you have an amazing view of the courtyard, surrounding meadow and the river Vecht.
In the Armory room you will find a healthy assortment of swords, armor and various weapons used by the gallant knights from the period. Descending the stairs below leads you to the grisly dungeon quarters, eerily equipped with chains, metal handcuffs and other instruments of torture. You can almost feel the pain and suffering of the guests who were imprisoned and tormented there.This fate was bestowed upon Count Floris V himself, later a prisoner in this grim corner of the castle.
Muiderslot Castle has since changed owners many times over the last 750 years. Thousands of souls have traversed its drawbridge into the castle keep. Your imagination runs wild with salacious tales of backroom skullduggery. Stories of the tortured and screams of the damned imprisoned below. The hairs on the back of your neck stiffen. There is a sudden chill in the air as your body succumbs to gooseflesh. Standing alone in the Herald room next to Floris V’s coat of arms you get the feeling that you are not alone. Hmmmm, perhaps you are not.;)-ZT