The Netherlands is famous for many things. For never-ending stacks of cheese, dazzling tulip fields, and hookers selling their goods from behind red-lit shop windows. This country made the history books for inventing the stock exchange in the 1600s and being the first in legalising gay marriage. What Holland is not famous for, however, is its mountains.

There is a particular reason The Netherlands is called such: This country, twice the size of the Kruger Park and home to one quarter of South Africa’s population, is as flat as a brand spanking new R100 note. Apart from a couple of sand dunes and dikes, there is no elevation whatsoever. Holland is flatter than flat – simple.

“But we do have mountains!” some Kaaskoppe would squirm, referring to some sort of a moles heap on steroids situated in the south of the country. The Vaalserberg has a mind-boggling altitude of 322.7 metres. This may be quite something for The Netherlands, of which one-fifth lies many metres below sea level. For South African, or even global standards, it is quite pathetic.

They know this, the Dutch: Their country’s monotone landscape makes it stand out above other European nations. Spain has mountains, France has mountains, Portugal has mountains, Italy has mountain, Greece has mountains… Hell, even its neighbours Belgium and Germany have mountains – and lots of them, too. Everyone in Europe basically has mountains. Everyone, except for The Netherlands.

Journalist and cyclist Thijs Zonneveld is determined to change this scenario. He wants to build a 2 000-metre mountain – a mere 730m higher than our very own Table Mountain.

“It has been a fantasy of mine for the past years, as I find the Dutch landscape utterly boring,” he laughs, denying any particular usage of narcotics. “I realised this once again when driving back home after this year’s Tour de France. Instead of keeping my frustration inside, I wrote a column about how I wanted to build a mountain.”

To Zonneveld’s surprise, his piece triggered an avalanche of responses from like-minded Dutchies: “Some of them even had concrete ideas about how to build a mountain,” he says.

“Soon, the mainstream media picked up on my ideas and before I could say mountain, my plans were all over the show. This led to some of the biggest construction companies contacting me for a chat, as well as architects, geologists, planologists and other experts. This all happened in the past week and a half.”

According to Zonneveld, the verdict of the first few meetings has been positive: According to the construction companies, it is technically possible to build a mountain from scratch.

The next step is to find a suitable location and to determine the physical nature of the mountain.

“Quite a few municipalities have shown an interest in our plans, so that is good news,” says Zonneveld. “Our priority at the moment is to determine whether we want to build a hollow or a solid mountain.

“A hollow mountain has the strong advantage that you can exploit the exterior – for climbing, abseiling, hiking, cycling and other activities – as well as the interior. You could transform the inside of the mountain into a massive climbing hall or even an indoor theme park,” he notes. “We might even consider for a Table Mountain-like plateau on top for an ice-skating rink – who knows?”

Multifunctionality plays a crucial role in the project, says Zonneveld: “While there are still many questions with regard to the project, one thing is crystal clear: if it goes ahead, it will cost billions of euros. One cubic metre of sand costs two euros at the moment, so you do the math.

“In other words: it is important that this project will make money at the end of the day,” he adds.” I do not want to have half of Holland knocking on my door, accusing me of wasting money that could have been spend on something else.” ☑

Miriam Mannak