Six Zeeland villages on the island of Schouwen Duiveland together set the scene for the wonderful spring festival that is Straô. Nowhere else in the world can you go for it. Not surprisingly, Straô was declared an intangible heritage in 2018, making it on the Unesco list. According to tradition, eight weeks before Easter, Renesse kicks off the festival series. Burgh-Haamstede, Noordwelle, Ellemeet, Scharendijk and Serooskerke follow (see the events calendar on this site for the exact dates). When you talk about Straô, you are actually talking about Straô-riees. Historians have debated the origin but the most obvious translation is “beach-riding”. On horseback, that is. Fun fact is that the tradition is older than the Zeeland horse breed so quite understandably any horse is welcome.
I understand that it is a spectacle you must attend and so I set off for Renesse on Saturday 11 February on time. At the transferium, all the riders taking part in the Straô-rieën gathered. I can see from the many cattle trucks and trailers that I have unmistakably come to the right place. I park my car well away from the horses, because when I get a good look at the imposing animals I realise that they don’t look like they are impressed by the fact that, theoretically, I have more horsepower under my arse. So I prefer not to get in the way.
Via e-mail I have been in contact with Kitty from the board of the Straô Renesse foundation. She has already explained to me that all combinations have to report here and will be judged immediately by the board. After all, the horses are supposed to be beautifully decorated. I watch pumpkins, bows, braids and sprigs of ivy and conifer transform the horses into cinematic heroes. As do the riders, many of whom ride traditionally in white trousers with possible folkloric touches added. No doubt there will be a prize for the most beautiful combination at the end of the day. From the transferium, some 100 horses will soon head for the beach. What beautiful pictures they already form. I decide to shoot a few in advance. That’s how I get Amber in front of my lens. She is only seven years old and is going to ride her first Straô with her lovely pony Elsa. What a tough girl, but she must have inherited that from her mother, who, as a companion, will plough through the sand under her own steam.
From tradition, we know that farmers went to the sea with their sons and servants in early spring to wash the horses’ legs. This helped heal the small inflammations they had contracted in the stable during the winter. It developed sight into a ritual journey during which, en passant, they also expelled any evil spirits that might have attached themselves to the horses. On the way back, they rode a few more laps around the church (anti-clockwise!) and then it was time for drinks. Over time, the traditions grew and elements like ring stabbing were added. And somewhere along the way, the schrôôsels were also born. We are talking about thin spice cakes that became inextricably linked to Straô.
Fortunately, Kitty told me that for the beach-washing ritual, I should be at the dune crossing of the Zeeuwse Stromen around a quarter to twelve. As I walk onto the beach, I see that a lot of people knew this a long time ago. The inclement wind apparently has no grip on the enthusiasts. I see a remarkable number of photographers. Restlessly, their telephoto lenses peer at the dune crossing. The crowd stays a bit near the beach pavilions Haven van Renesse and De Schorpioen. And there, of course, it is also party time. The terraces are full and if you forgot the temperature you would think it is almost summer. The clear sound of the brass horn puts an end to my musing and I know it is time to focus the lenses. Traditionally, the horn is reserved for the most experienced Straô rider. The huge group is roughly divided into a fast and a less fast group. The front riders with the red sashes lead the gallopers and the green sashes lead the steppers.
I can see why this seems like a school trip for photographers. It clicks away and I merrily join in. What a beautiful sight! Quietly, the magical herd moves towards the purifying water. When the first horse’s feet touch the water, the initial tension in the surf seems to disappear. After all, it is a matter of waiting to see how the horses manage to contain their energy. Some daredevils send their horses a little further into the water and even have to pull up their own legs to avoid getting wet. It occurs to me that farmers used to sit on a rug and there was no real saddle. Seems logical to me that is why trotting was also called galloping. The procession then moves towards the South South West beach pavilion.
Along the way, the green and red sashes split the group. It seems as if the horses from the red group know what is about to happen. Impatiently, they wait for the starting signal to let them go. When the time finally comes, you can feel the ground tremble beneath you even from a good distance away. The violence of nature created by the photogenic group together is impressive. The herd rolls across the beach like a wave of explosive freedom. Better that nothing gets in the way for a while. A single pony even experienced so much freedom that it occurred to him to take a roll in the loose sand. He just forgot he had someone else on his back. Fortunately, this misunderstanding ended well.
A drink and a slice of cake at South South West were well deserved by all riders. The mood is good and some riders decide to give the peloton of photographers an encore. Enthusiastically, the horses gallop through the surf once more. The appreciation is great and if you look on facebook you will see that the results are wonderful. Just search for Dick van der Veer, Nicole de Vries and Fokoografie, for instance. Tired but satisfied, the return journey can begin. The programme continues in the village. First I decide to have a nice cup of tea on the beach. To reminisce and see if some nice photos have stuck on my camera. I enjoyed it immensely and realise that Straô is not an event but a virus. It caught me wonderfully and I cannot wait to infect my daughters….
Love,
Anna