Each summer, thousands of people walk across the Wadden Sea, in the northern Netherlands.
Here’s how I learned to embrace the quirky Dutch sport of “Wadlopen.”
Fredrik Nilsson/Getty Images
Standing on the last firm land before the Wadden Sea, I braced myself.
Walking through the mud in the Wadden Sea, in the Netherlands.Credit:Fredrik Nilsson/Getty Images
I expected the mud to be cold when it hit my bare shin.
Instead, theslik, as the Dutch call the mud here, was silky and tepid.
I took a deep breath, then my next step, striking out to cross the sea.
A group of people mud walking in the Netherlands.Lizzy Hewitt
Shallow waters teem with aquatic life and serve as fertile habitat for migratory birds.
(There are many routes, both along the mainland coast and crossing to other islands.
At low tide, when the water recedes one can walk long distances across the sea.
The island of Ameland, in the Netherlands.CreativeNature_nl/Getty Images
Herman van der Geest, the coordinator ofWadloopcentrum Fryslans Ameland tour, greeted me.
He would be one of five volunteer guides leading our group of 54 across the Wadden Sea.
Though guides carry GPS and compasses, they mostly navigate by experience.
A fiddler crab in the mudflats.eugen_z/Getty Images
They walk with a long walking stick, handy for testing water depth.
The seabed changes frequently, necessitating adjustments to walking routes.
You just have to go.
The author’s group hiking across a salt marsh.Lizzy Hewitt
At some point there is no point of return.
After an hour walk on land to the departure point, we began the crossing.
First, the salt marsh.
Restaurants covet the crisp, saline spears, he told me.
Related:There’s a Beach Destination in the Netherlands You’ve Never Heard Of
Then, theslik.
At first, it was easy to walk through the ankle-deep slurry, charcoal gray and smelling of sulfur.
But ahead, the group abandoned the queue and fanned out.
I could tell from uneasy laughs and flailing arms it was about to get tougher.
With each step I squelched almost knee deep into denser mud.
Easier to follow in others footprints or break my own trail?
Long strides or quick paces?
I found a rhythm moving fast over unbroken mud.
Like skating, another first-time wadloper observed as we glided across a shallower stretch.
eugen_z/Getty Images
Half an hour later, we sloshed through water atop thin mud.
Around us, the sea and clouds shimmered together.
Ahead, something solid hovered, mirage-like, above the now-deeper water.
Oyster beds, a guide told me.
We came upon a reef of shells of cockles, oysters, and mussels.
The ground crunched under each step.
Van der Geest collected a few oysters.
He presented me the most perfect oyster Id ever seen, loosening the flesh with the sharp teardrop blade.
The route alternated between stretches of hardpacked sand and channels of flowing seawater, at times hip-deep.
A flat-bottomed sailboat lolled on a bank, marooned until the tide returned.
A seal basked nearby.
As we neared Amelands green dunes, a light rain began.
I tucked my salty fingers into my sleeves and navigated the final stretch of shallow mud.
When I climbed onto the grass, the sun broke through and wild roses perfumed the shore.
From there, I walked back to my lodging in the village of Nes.
Amidst centuries-old brick houses and the agrarian landscape, the Wadden Sea already seemed distant.
