Day 12 - Outside Meppel - SUIOAKLAND.COM

Day 12 - Outside Meppel

6/11/2022

"IJs!" Johan calls out. Pronounced "ice," it's an important word to keep an eye out for while pedaling through Holland. For addicts, it's essential. We've been meandering through fields of dairy cows, with their acrid bovine scent, when this white shed appears right next to the fietspad, decorated with colourful signs and surrounded by two sets of chairs with small tables. A delightful setting but as an ice cream addict and connoisseur -- only the best gelato, if i can help it -- I'm skeptical. "Could be just cheap commercial stuff," I say, ready to head on. But the shed is a self-serve honor system, €2.30 for a small tub and it's time for a break off the saddle, so we give it try.

Before I'm halfway through the tub of cherry frozen yoghurt I'm already dreaming of my second tub. Dream cream! Divine bovine. The best ice cream I've ever eaten, I'm sure of it (though I've been known to say this whenever I'm having a particularly bonus hit). But I can't talk Johan into a sharing a second round -- it'll wreck my savoring of this one, he says, ever the exemplar of forbearance. So I let prudence win the day and forego a second helping.

A sign tells the story of the local farmers who produce this blissful concoction and I get out my phone to let Google Translate turn it into English. It talks about some sort of robotics on the farm and that we're welcome to go through the black shed door to the right and have a look. Indeed, a small sign, "Melk-robot," points in the direction of the strong-smelling cow shed. We peer over the iron bars and sure enough, a squat little machine is pacing up and down the concrete floors where the cows are hanging out, cleaning up their shit. Really! It heads straight towards a big swampy pile of the stuff, runs right over it, and out the other side the floor is clean. Amazing! The Melk-robot just gobbled up the cow shit!

But that's not actually the Melk-robot, we soon discover. Curious Johan, always not-shy about exploring further into what I think are people's private spaces, calls out to come look at this. Through another damp gate (is it water or cow piss?), he points to a big mama cow who's just entered a restricted pen area -- seemingly on her own volition as there aren't any farmers in the shed telling the cows what to do. A big orange machine stands vertical on our side of the pen with a small monitor that pings and lights up as we're watching. Suddenly a robotic arm from underneath the machine extends out towards the cow's underside, two bristle brushes pop up and somehow, knowingly, make their way over to the cow's udder, where four low-hanging nipples are cleaned by the twirling brushes. As they retreat another arm extends from the machine and four cylinders pop upright and somehow, knowingly, find their way to the four nipples and clamp on. A whirring noise starts and soon we can see white fluid passing through the clear pipes into another machine, the milk vat. While the cow patiently stands there and the machine does it's milking thing, the brushes are sprayed with some sort of disinfecting solution, waiting for the next mama cow to come along. After a few minutes, one by one the sucking tubes disengage from the cow's teats and when it's all over, a gate automatically slides open and, released of her heavy burden, the cow slowly prances away. Another ambles in, but the machine does nothing to register her presence. The gate slides open again, so she just passes through, udder still heavy. This happens for the next 3 or 4 cows -- for some reason the Melk-robot has had enough and doesn't want to engage any further.

We feel fully educated on the true source of our delicious ice cream as we remount our bikes and ride off through the smelly bovine countryside.