Daily Photo – De Molen in Foxton

Here’s a question for you: What do you do if your town doesn’t have a proper Dutch windmill and you really really think it should? Answer, you build one.

That’s what two Dutchmen did when they came to the Horowhenua region. Well, to be precise they didn’t build it, someone else did, but our story starts with Dutch friends Jan Langen and Dirk van Til. When the two friends came to the flat lands, green pastures and nearby rivers of the Foxton area they were instantly transported back to their Netherlands home, the only thing missing was a windmill. Not the thin, modern kind that turn without drawing much attention to themselves, but a proper one. A traditional 17th Century Dutch flour mill. The sort of windmill that feels like it belongs.

For most people, this would remain a passing thought. Something briefly mentioned over a beer before moving on to more practical matters. But Jan and Dirk were not most people. They carried with them that particular Dutch certainty that if something ought to exist, then it probably can.

The idea gathered supporters, as ideas often do in small towns where novelty is welcome and enthusiasm is rarely discouraged. Before long, what had begun as nostalgia shifted into intent. Plans were drawn. Funds were raised. And in time, with help from both sides of the world, an authentic Dutch windmill began to rise from the flatness of the Horowhenua.

It was not a quick process. Proper windmills cannot be rushed. The timber arrived. Skilled craftsmen came. Piece by piece, something old was assembled in a place that had never had one. When it was finished, what stood was a traditional 17th Century Dutch flour mill – they called it De Molen.

Today, it turns as windmills are supposed to turn. Visitors wander inside and find flour being milled just as it would have been centuries ago. Children stare upward, trying to understand how something so large can move at all. Locals, who have long since grown used to its presence, still occasionally glance at it with quiet satisfaction.

So there it stands, in a small New Zealand town better known for flax and a river that wanders lazily to the sea. A Dutch windmill, slightly improbable and entirely perfect.