Texel (pronounced roughly 'Tessel') is the largest of the Frisian islands in the north of the Netherlands and one of the country's great nature escapes. A short ferry from the mainland, it is a world apart of endless beaches, rolling dunes, lighthouses, green fields dotted with sheep and enormous skies, surrounded by the Wadden Sea, the Waddenzee, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. This is where the Dutch themselves go to breathe, pedal and switch off.
Almost a quarter of the island is protected as Duinen van Texel National Park, with dunes, woods, marshes and heathland crossed by footpaths and cycle routes. Its red Eierland lighthouse, on the northern tip, is the most famous postcard; its nature and seal rescue centre, Ecomare, is the educational heart of the island; and its wide pale-sand beaches, numbered by posts, invite very long walks. Everything is covered by bike, because Texel is flat and built for cycling.
This guide covers the essentials of Texel with a practical eye: how to get there by train, bus and ferry without a car, what to see from the lighthouse to the seals, how to get around by bike or Texelhopper, where to try the island's famous lamb, and why this piece of land facing the sea carries a surprising history, from the VOC fleet that anchored off its shores to the last battle in Europe in 1945. A different, quiet and highly recommendable destination to add to a trip through Holland.
Texel has a far more eventful history than its present calm suggests. Inhabited since remote times by the Frisians, it reached its peak in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, when the great merchant fleet of the Dutch East India Company (VOC) anchored in the Reede van Texel, the roadstead off the island, to take on supplies before setting off for Asia. Off its coast the naval battle of Texel was fought in 1673, one of the great clashes of the era; and in the harsh winter of 1795 the Dutch fleet was trapped in the ice near Den Helder and taken by French cavalry, an episode unique in military history. Its most tragic chapter came in 1945 with the Georgian uprising, considered the last battle of the Second World War in Europe, which ended even after the war's official close. All of that is told in detail on our history page.
Read the full history ↓The extremes of the Netherlands: Maastricht, the Roman city of the south where the treaty that created the European Union was signed in 1992; the lake village of Giethoorn; Groningen, the Hanseatic city of the north transformed by gas; and Friesland, with a language of its own, and the Wadden Islands, a natural World Heritage Site.
Read the history of South and north →No exact prices: a scale from $ (budget) to $$$$$ (luxury), with 2-3 options per category.
Origins, formation and what the sources say.
The calm Texel breathes today, with its wide beaches and its sheep pastures, conceals a surprisingly dense history. The island was inhabited from remote times by the Frisians, the ancient Germanic people of the North Sea coasts, who learned to live in an amphibious territory at the mercy of tides, storms and the advancing sea. For centuries Texel was not a single island: the sea separated it from and joined it to neighbouring territories, and only over time, with dikes and human hands, did it take its present shape. In the Middle Ages it already appears as inhabited land, with rights granted in the twelfth century, scattered hamlets and churches that still survive.
The landscape was shaped between nature and human work: dikes were built, land was won from the sea, polders were dug and the dunes were tamed. On that poor but salty soil there thrived what would become an eternal hallmark of the island: the sheep. The Texel or 'Texelaar' breed, raised here for centuries, became famous for its meat and its sturdiness, and in time was exported around half the world. Even today some ten thousand sheep graze the island, and in spring the meadows fill with lambs: an image that sums up, better than any other, the rural Texel of old. But it was the sea, not the land, that put this small island at the centre of history.
The seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the Dutch Golden Age, were Texel's period of greatest splendour and prominence. The reason lay in the water around it: off the island stretched the Reede van Texel, a wide and safe natural anchorage where hundreds of ships could lie. It became one of the most important departure points of the Dutch commercial empire.
The great fleets gathered there before setting out on their long voyages. The ships of the Dutch East India Company (the VOC, the first great multinational in history) and of the West India Company anchored off Texel to complete their crews, load provisions and fresh water and wait for the favourable wind that would push them towards Asia, America or Africa. The island lived off the bustle of that multitude of sailors: water, beer, supplies, pilots and everything needed for months at sea came out of Texel. The island's fresh water had a reputation for keeping especially well in the barrels on long crossings.
That strategic role also made Texel's waters a theatre of war. On 21 August 1673 the naval battle of Texel was fought off the island's west coast, the last great clash of the Third Anglo-Dutch War, part of the Franco-Dutch War. The fleet of the United Provinces, commanded by the legendary admiral Michiel de Ruyter, faced the combined squadron of England and France and managed to prevent a landing on the Dutch coast: a strategic victory that saved the Republic at a critical moment. The Texel anchorage was, literally, the front door of Dutch maritime power.
One of the most singular episodes in European military history took place in these waters in the winter of 1795, and it is worth telling precisely, because it is usually distorted into a heroic anecdote of cavalry charging at ships. The reality was more sober and, in its way, more curious.
The winter of 1794-1795 was exceptionally harsh. The Zuiderzee and the waters around Den Helder, opposite Texel, froze over, and a Dutch naval squadron — fourteen ships under Captain Hermanus Reintjes — was trapped in the ice of the Nieuwediep, unable to move. These were the days of the French Revolution: French armies had invaded the Republic and were advancing across a frozen Netherlands, while the old regime collapsed and the Batavian Republic, allied with France, was born.
The French general Pichegru sent a squadron of hussars of the 8th Regiment to Den Helder. On the night of 23 January 1795 a group of riders, with their horses' hooves wrapped in cloth so as not to slip or make noise, crossed the ice to the immobilised ships. There was barely any fighting: it was not a cavalry charge against cannon but a cautious approach to a fleet that could not manoeuvre. The two sides agreed to await orders, and a few days later the Dutch crews accepted French command, though they were allowed to remain under the Dutch flag. The result was nonetheless unique: it is the only known case in history in which a cavalry force 'captured' a war fleet. The romantic legend exaggerates the scene; the real event, a handful of riders taking frozen ships without a battle, is extraordinary enough on its own.
Texel's most tragic and least known chapter was written in the final weeks of the Second World War, and it deserves to be remembered soberly, because it was a real massacre that dragged on even after the war officially ended in Europe.
Stationed on the island, occupied by Nazi Germany, was the 822nd 'Queen Tamara' infantry battalion, made up of some eight hundred Georgians: former Red Army soldiers captured on the eastern front who had agreed to serve in the Wehrmacht to escape the prison camps. In the early hours of 5 to 6 April 1945, with Germany already on the verge of defeat, the Georgians rose against their German officers. Within hours they had killed hundreds of German soldiers as they slept and taken control of almost the whole island, hoping the Allies would land soon to support them.
That landing never came. The Germans sent reinforcements from the mainland and retook Texel in bitter fighting, house by house, dune by dune, that went on for weeks. The reprisals were ferocious. When it ended, some 565 Georgians, at least 812 Germans and around 120 inhabitants of Texel were dead, and much of the island, including farms and villages, had been destroyed. The most chilling part is the date: the fighting continued until 20 May 1945, almost two weeks after the German capitulation of 8 May. That is why the Georgian uprising on Texel is remembered as the last battle of the Second World War in Europe. Canadian troops had to intervene to put a definitive end to the killing. The surviving Georgians were repatriated to the Soviet Union, where many were treated with suspicion for having worn, however unwillingly, the German uniform. Today a cemetery on the island remembers the Georgian dead, and the story is preserved as the memory of an absurd horror that took place when the war should already have been over.
After the devastation of 1945, Texel was rebuilt and, over the decades, found a new calling that would make it prosperous and content: nature tourism. The same geography that had made it a strategic anchorage and a battlefield — its immense beaches, its dunes, its open skies and the richness of life in the sea around it — became its greatest treasure.
Through the second half of the twentieth century the island became the great holiday destination for the Dutch and for many Germans: campsites among the dunes, holiday houses, hotels in De Koog, kilometres of cycle paths and a culture of the outdoors, the bike and the beach that defines Texel today. In 1948 Ecomare was created, becoming over the years the nature and seal rescue centre it is today, a symbol of the island's commitment to its environment. Much of the territory was protected: the west coast is today Duinen van Texel National Park.
The greatest recognition came in 2009, when the Waddenzee that washes the island was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site, together with the coasts of Germany and Denmark, as the largest intertidal sand and mud system in the world and a vital refuge for millions of birds. Texel thus managed to turn its nature into identity and livelihood. The island that was the gateway of the Dutch commercial empire and the setting of the last battle in Europe is today a haven of dunes, sheep, lighthouses and seals: a place to breathe, pedal and remember, without forgetting the intense history it keeps beneath its calm.