Escape to Paradise: Hazenborgh Family Home Awaits in Callantsoog!
Escape to Paradise: Hazenborgh Family Home Awaits in Callantsoog! - MY Take! (Brace Yourselves, It's Gonna Be Long)
Okay, buckle up buttercups, because I'm about to spill the tea on the Hazenborgh Family Home in Callantsoog, a place they claim is paradise. And listen, I've been around. I've seen hotels that promised the moon and delivered… well, a slightly dusty rock. So, going in, I was cautiously optimistic. Let's get real, though, "family home" can sometimes translate to "slightly chaotic and possibly full of toddlers running amok." But I went in with an open mind, a need for some serious R&R, and a very healthy supply of hand sanitizer.
(Meta-Data Schmeta-Data, Here's the Real Deal)
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- Metadata Description: A messy, honest, and hilarious review of Hazenborgh Family Home in Callantsoog, Netherlands, covering accessibility, amenities, dining, cleanliness, and everything in between. Expect raw opinions, real-life anecdotes, and a whole lot of rambling.
(The Pre-Trip Anxiety - or, "Can I Actually Get There?")
Alright, let's be honest, getting to Callantsoog felt like a quest. A beautiful quest, but still a quest. I am not a fan of complicated travel, but I knew it was the North Sea shore. I needed this. First things first, the "Accessibility" situation. Now, I am able-bodied, but I always keep an eye out for these things. The website said "facilities for disabled guests." Great, vague. I contacted them beforehand, and got a better answer. They responded quickly and were very helpful. I saw a lift, so that was a good start. I'm no expert on this--maybe they could improve the details on the website.
(The Arrival - A "Welcome" That Almost Went Wrong)
Check-in was supposed to be "contactless." Which, in theory, is great – less awkward small talk, more me time. In practice? My keycard didn't work. Classic. Stood there, looking like a lost lamb in front of the 24-hour front desk. Eventually, they sorted it, and honestly, the guy who helped me was super friendly. That already makes things better. The "Doorman" was nowhere to be seen, so I struggled with my luggage, feeling like a total amateur.
(Room Review - My Little Bubble of Bliss… Mostly)
Okay, my room. "Available in all rooms:" air conditioning, alarm clock, bathrobes, bathroom phone, bathtub, blackout curtains, carpeting, closet, coffee/tea maker, complimentary tea, daily housekeeping, desk, extra long bed, free bottled water, hair dryer, high floor, in-room safe box, internet access – LAN, internet access – wireless, ironing facilities, laptop workspace, linens, mini bar, mirror, non-smoking, on-demand movies, private bathroom, reading light, refrigerator, safety/security feature, satellite/cable channels, scale, seating area, separate shower/bathtub, shower, slippers, smoke detector, socket near the bed, sofa, soundproofing, telephone, toiletries, towels, umbrella, visual alarm, wake-up service, wi-fi [free], window that opens… and the room decorations were "eh." I liked the bed and loved the coffee/tea maker. I got a good night's sleep, the blackout curtains were a lifesaver. Plus, the Wi-Fi was blazing fast! Perfect for binge-watching trash TV (don't judge me). Honestly, the "carpet" wasn't my fave, but the "non-smoking" was a major plus.
(The Spa & Relaxation - Did I Find My Zen? Kinda.)
Now, this is where things got interesting. I was there to de-stress, so I dove headfirst into the "Spa" part of the equation. "Pool with a view" - yes, please! "Sauna, Spa, Spa/sauna, Steamroom" - Oh, heck yes!
The swimming pool was lovely. A little chilly at first, but once you got in, bliss! The view? Stunning. It overlooked the North Sea, which made me feel like I was floating on a cloud.
The Spa was amazing. I dove for the sauna, the steamroom, and the whole world disappeared. Except, I forgot my book. I'm sure I saw some people in the sauna and steamroom.
The "Body wrap" was a bit… underwhelming. It felt like being wrapped in slightly-damp fabric. The "Body scrub," on the other hand, was pure heaven. The masseuse, a lovely woman named Agnes, worked wonders on my knots and tensions. Agnes, you are a saint!
(Dining & Drinking - Feed Me, Seymour!)
Food. My other true love.
There are Restaurants. And bars. And I was starving.
The "Breakfast [buffet]" was a solid start. "Buffet in restaurant," "Western breakfast" – think croissants, cereal, eggs, and all the usual suspects. No complaints.
I tried the "A la carte in restaurant" for dinner one night. It was excellent. "International cuisine in restaurant" - They had a delicious pasta dish. The "Bottle of water" was appreciated. The "Coffee/tea in restaurant" was plentiful.
The "Poolside bar" was a great place to get some sunshine. The "Happy hour" made me even happier. The "Snack bar" had my back when midnight cravings hit.
They also had a "Vegetarian restaurant," but I, quite frankly, only had room for meat. There was no "Asian cuisine in restaurant," which was a shame.
"(Breakfast takeaway service," "Room service [24-hour]" and "Alternative meal arrangement" – I didn't need them, but it's good to know they were there.
(Cleanliness & Safety - Did I Survive the Germ-geddon?)
"Anti-viral cleaning products," "Daily disinfection in common areas," "First aid kit," "Hand sanitizer," "Hot water linen and laundry washing"… they tried. They really did. They even offered "Room sanitization opt-out available." I didn't opt-out and was very grateful for the sanitizing. I never felt fully comfortable about the safety, but they were trying.
(Things To Do (Besides Eating and Napping))
Callantsoog itself is charming. The beach is beautiful. I took a stroll, got sand in my shoes, and basically lived my best life. I didn't use the "Bicycle parking."
(Services & Conveniences - The Nitty-Gritty)
"Concierge"- I didn't need. "Daily housekeeping"- great! "Cashless payment service" - Yay! "Elevator" (see earlier accessibility comment). "Laundry service" - I would have used this if I'd had more time!
(The Kids' Stuff - I'm Not a Child, But I Appreciated It)
They had "Babysitting service." "Family/child friendly" - seemed to be. I saw some "Kids facilities."
(The Bottom Line – Would I Go Back? (Maybe, with a Few Caveats))
Overall, the Hazenborgh Family Home in Callantsoog is a solid choice. It's not perfect, but it has a lot going for it: a beautiful location, great spa facilities, and friendly staff. The cleanliness was excellent, and I'm always grateful for that. They try to be helpful.
Would I recommend it? Yeah, probably. But go in with your eyes open. Pack your own book, accept the imperfections, embrace the chaos (if any), and prepare to relax. And maybe bring a few extra pairs of comfy shoes.
(Rating: 4 out of 5 stars)
Escape to De Veluwe: Cozy Chalet with WiFi Awaits!
Okay, buckle up, because "organized" is not happening. This is the Hazenborgh family home on the North Holland coast, after all; we're aiming for "charming chaos." My brain, much like a toddler with a sugar rush, is all over the place. Let’s get this trip diary going, shall we?
Hazenborgh Home: A Dutch Coastal Disaster… in the Best Way Possible
Day 1: Arrival and the Great Biscuit Debacle
14:00: We arrive! Or rather, they arrive. The van, overflowing with luggage, the kids, and my perpetually stressed-but-secretly-loving-it husband, is a sight. Me? I'm more of an "arrive late and covered in sand after a brief (very muddy) beach stroll" kinda person. The Hazenborgh home itself is… well, it's Hazenborgh. Think cozy, but with more mismatched furniture than a vintage shop. The windows are amazing, though. That North Sea view is worth a thousand questionable choices in interior design.
15:00: Unpacking. Or, attempt the unpacking. It usually devolves into frantic searching for lost socks, a toddler claiming ownership of the entire snack stash, and my husband muttering about "how much stuff we bring." Yes, honey, we brought the essentials: swimsuits, 3 different types of sunscreen, a life vest… and a spare hairdryer for the kids, each.
16:00: "Tea time" (more like coffee, let's be honest). But OH, the biscuits. We bought a massive bag of "traditional" Dutch cookies. Let's call them the "Great Biscuit Debacle of 2024". They turned out to be hard as rocks! I took a bite and almost shattered a tooth. The kids, after a couple of attempts to gnaw through one, started calling them "Dino biscuits" and used them as weapons. My husband loved it, claimed a victory, and ate the whole bag.
17:00: A walk on the beach. Wind. So. Much. Wind. It's the kind of wind that rips your words right out of your mouth. The kids attempt to fly kites, which promptly nose-dive into the sand. I decide to take a solo stroll, feeling utterly blissed out by the raw power of the North Sea. It’s a meditation. Pure, salty, windy meditation.
19:00: Dinner: Attempted to cook local prawns. I swear I have a very simple recipe. However, the kitchen is cluttered with the kid's stuff, the pans are old, and it becomes a chaotic scene of smoke and screams. We end up ordering from some local fish shop that tasted like heaven.
Day 2: Culture, the Wind, and the Great Sandcastle Crisis of Callantsoog
09:00: The kids are up at the crack of dawn. They want to build a sandcastle. I consider faking a sudden illness. But no, down onto the beach!
10:00: Sandcastle construction. This is where things get interesting. The wind is relentless. The sand, despite its appearance, is determined to collapse every attempt to create a turret. My husband, bless his heart, is trying to be a super-dad, I am failing. We are building a castle that doesn't resemble anything. My son, in tears, accuses me of "not being good at sandcastles." Ouch.
12:00: Lunch. We try a local "strandtent" (beach cafe). It's chaotic, but the fries are heavenly. The kids eat half of the fries, then they try to escape by running away. I swear, they are like two little escape artists!
14:00: A visit to the lighthouse. I am a bit scared of heights and found myself hugging the handrails all the way to the top. However, the view is AMAZING.
16:00: The Great Sandcastle Crisis. I let the kids to pick the ingredients for the cake for dinner. The sand gets everywhere. The cake? Let's just say it's a bit of a disaster. And let's keep it that way.
18:00: Dutch dinner and stories. The kids are tired, so we have a quiet evening reading. My husband makes the best Dutch coffee, I must say.
Day 3: Biking, Beachcombing, and the Unexpected Joy of Losing a Shoe
10:00: Bikes! We rented bikes. I have this romantic notion of us all cycling along the dunes, picture-perfect family. The reality? I spend half the time yelling "Slow down!" at the kids and the other half trying not to crash into a ditch. My husband is in his element, though, pedaling with the ease of a seasoned pro.
12:00: Beachcombing. We find seashells, sea glass, and a single, lonely flip-flop. Which, by the way, I lose 5 minutes later. It becomes the "Great Flip Flop Mystery". I laugh and laugh. It's a perfect metaphor for my life.
14:00: Lunch in the dunes. We picnic, the wind whips sand into our sandwiches, but it's perfect. Kids are eating the sand. I am happy.
16:00: The kids build a big dam in the sea. The sea wins and crushes the dam. My son is disappointed and cries. I hugged him. It was a good moment.
18:00: I make a risotto for dinner. It's the first time I have cooked a non-Dutch meal. It fails dismally. We end up eating the leftovers.
Day 4: Windsurfing Disaster and Finding My Happy Place (in the Washing Machine)
09:00: Windsurfing lesson… for the kids. Me? I watch from the dunes, clutching a very large coffee. It’s all very amusing, until my husband, convinced he's a water sport god, tries to "help." Let's just say, the sea won. He looked like a drowned rat.
11:00: I decide I need a calm, quiet space. I head to the washing machine, where I can feel the vibrations on my feet. I am now at peace!
13:00: Lunch on the beach again, the kids are becoming real beach bums.
16:00: We try the "fish shop" in Callantsoog. Amazing.
18:00: It's the evening. I am washing clothes, and my husband is trying to build a castle out of Lego. I go to the dunes and watch the sunset. It's perfect.
Day 5: Farewell, Hazenborgh! (And the Hunt for Lost Keys)
08:00: Packing. The kids are screaming, my husband is packing. I am wandering around, feeling the beauty of Hazenborgh's weirdness one last time.
09:00: More packing. This time, we cannot find the car keys. The panic ascends. After 30 minutes of searching, my husband finds them.
10:00: We bid farewell to the sea.
Reflections:
This trip wasn't perfect. It was messy, chaotic, and exhausting. But it was ours. It was full of laughter, tantrums, and the ever-present sting of sand in unexpected places. It was pure, unfiltered, coastal living… and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Hazenborgh, you glorious, slightly wonky testament to family holidays, we'll be back. Eventually. Possibly next year. Let the chaos begin!
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Escape to Paradise: Hazenborgh Family Home Awaits in Callantsoog! - Because We're All Just Trying to Survive, Okay?
What exactly *is* this Hazenborgh place in Callantsoog everyone’s raving about? Is it, like, a real escape from reality?
Okay, so picture this: Callantsoog. Picturesque, right? Dunes, beach, sea – the whole shebang. Hazenborgh, though… that’s where things get a bit more *real*. Don't get me wrong, it's definitely a gorgeous house, tons of space, and yes, you *can* hear the waves crashing at night (which, honestly, is the best ASMR ever). It's the kind of place where you can actually see yourself, you know, *existing* without the constant hum of 'to-do' lists. But the 'escape' part? That's… complicated. Because you're escaping from the daily grind into... well, a house that still needs you to, like, *live* in it. It's not magic, it's just… a really nice house, in a really nice place, far away from your actual life. And sometimes, that's all you need.
Is it *actually* family-friendly? I've got kids, and 'family-friendly' can be a dirty word after a while.
Oh, buddy, I get it. "Family-friendly" is often code for, "Prepare to clean up approximately 37,000 crumbs and referee fights every 1.5 minutes." Here’s the thing: Hazenborgh *is* family-friendly. Like, *legitimately*. Lots of space, a garden, so the kids can run wild (and you can, maybe, have five minutes of peace with your coffee). There's a reason it's mentioned so much. The beach is, well, a beach – perfect for burying tiny humans in sand, building epic castles (that will inevitably get destroyed by the tide), and generally just letting them burn off some energy. The kitchen is well-equipped (bless!), so you can mostly avoid the expensive restaurants (though a few fancy treats are always a must!). Honestly, I'd bring my kids back in a heartbeat. Just… make sure you pack extra snacks. You'll thank me later.
Anecdote Time! We had a *moment* there. My kids are… spirited. The first day, my youngest managed to smear an entire jar of Nutella on his face, the curtains, and, somehow, the dog. The dog, bless his heart, just licked it off. It was chaos. Glorious, sticky, Nutella-fueled chaos. But you know what? We survived, the curtains got cleaned, and we look back and laugh. That's the Hazenborgh experience in a nutshell. Messy, imperfect, but totally worth it.
Okay, fine. Location. Callantsoog sounds lovely, but is it *convenient*? I'm thinking grocery stores, pharmacies, you know, the important stuff.
Convenient? Well, it's not in the middle of a bustling metropolis, let's put it that way. But thankfully, yes, it's absolutely manageable. Callantsoog itself has everything you *need*. There's a decent supermarket, a pharmacy (because someone will *always* need something at the least convenient time, trust me), and a few cute little shops for souvenirs and random beach essentials. The bigger towns are a short drive away if you need something specific, but honestly, you probably won't. You'll be too busy relaxing, and that's the whole point!
The Honest Truth: The first time, I panicked. I thought I'd forgotten something vital (I hadn't, of course). I envisioned a week of rationing and desperation. Turns out, I just needed a good dose of fresh air and a break from my neurosis. After a day, I totally calmed down and embraced the relaxed pace.
What about the house itself? Is it, like, actually comfortable? Is it clean? (Because I have a bit of a germ-phobia, I'm not going to lie.)
Comfortable? Oh, yes. Think cozy blankets, spacious rooms, and a kitchen that actually *invites* you to cook a proper meal (unlike my own, which mostly invites dust bunnies these days). It's clean. Like, properly, professionally clean. Even I – Mr. Germaphobe over here – felt okay. They've clearly put a lot of effort into making it a nice experience.
Quirky Observation: I am absolutely obsessed with their pillows. Seriously. I need to know their secret. They're perfectly fluffy and supportive. I’m thinking of writing them to see where they got them. It's probably the best pillow I've ever slept on. Pure bliss.
Okay, I'm starting to see the appeal. Is it expensive, though? I'm not made of money…
Real talk: It's not budget accommodation. Let's just get that out in the open. It's an investment, for sure. But when you consider the space, the location, the amenities… it’s actually pretty reasonable. You're not just paying for a room; you're paying for an entire experience. Think of it as an *investment* in your sanity. Okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic. But honestly, compared to some other holiday rentals I've looked at, it's a solid value.
Emotional Reaction: Initially, I was a bit shocked by the price, but honestly, after we left, I realized it was absolutely worth every penny. Best money I spent on holiday, ever!
Are there any downsides? You know, the stuff they *don’t* put on the glossy brochures?
Okay, here's the unvarnished truth, because nobody wants a perfectly curated experience that's actually a lie. The weather, of course, is the one thing you can't control. The Dutch coast can be… unpredictable. One minute sunshine, the next, biblical rain. Pack accordingly. Also, the walk to the beach from some parts of the house can take a few minutes, which can be an issue if you're carrying a screaming toddler covered in ice cream. (I speak from experience here!) It's also worth noting it's not *totally* secluded. There are neighbors (who are perfectly lovely, by the way!), so you can't go full-on party animal mode on the deck. Okay, and finally, and this is a truly minor thing, the Wi-Fi wasn't *blazing* fast, so if you're dependent on streaming, pack a book.
Moment of Truth: Okay, the Wi-Fi... look, I'm a travel blogger! It was... a *little* slow. Okay, fine, it was basically dial-up in the 21st century. But honestly? It was *fantastic*. It *forced* me to disconnect. I read books, played board games with my kids, and actually talked to my partner. It was absolutely the best thing that could have happened.
