Bergen op Zoom to Kalmthout: E2 Day 106

A complete change in the landscape as the E2 takes me inland and across the border into Belgium. There were woods, heath, farmland but no dykes.

My day began by walking through the suburbs of Bergen op Zoom. Older houses near the centre, more modern further out with blocks of flats by the edges. Then I crossed a busy road and was suddenly in woodland. There were still a few buildings among the trees but I soon left them behind. Most of the morning was spent among mature trees: oak and pine, beech and birch, on paths, roads and forest tracks.

Walk through the woods.

I left the woods by a house selling asparagus and strawberries from a self service vending machine opposite a horse chestnut tree in full flower. For the next several kilometres I was crossing farmland on tracks or roads often edged with trees. The border with Belgium was not marked except by an old conical border marker in a field. After crossing into Belgium a little later I returned to the Netherlands. This was a recent change to the route. Where it once went, some workmen were installing a post with a "no pedestrians" sign. One advantage of the revised route was that it went to the edge of Huijbergen, so I diverted into the village's centre in the hope of some lunch. Although the café was closed I was able to buy a sandwich and Coke at the Coop shop.

Boundary marker between Belgium and the Netherlands.

Walk over farmland. 

Returning to Belgium I walked through woodland for a while. Ponds of water on the track had a yellow film and edge, it seemed to be of a fine powder, either some kind of algae or pollen I thought. I came to a sign at the start of a large area of heathland, extolled by my guidebook. It stated that the public were not allowed any further between 15th March and 30th June, apparently it was a breeding area. Although waymarks clearly showed I was on the GR5, a major international hiking route no diversion or advice to walkers was given. A while back I had seen a GR5 Variant sign, but I did not know where this went, it was not marked on my digital maps, and it might also pass through the protected area. Not having a reliable alternative I ignored the sign and carried on feeling very guilty. I am sure I disturbed no birds or animals. There were tyre mark's on the track, and the cars or trucks responsible would have caused much more noise and disruption than me. Apart from a few cows, no one was around to tell me off and a few kilometres later I reached the other side of the extensive restricted area.

There were still a few more kilometres of heath to enjoy legally. Its sandy soil supported an extensive area of heather, although it looked a bit dull at this time of year. There were patches of pine and birch trees, and trees lined the horizon. The path later ran around a large lake of irregular shape. Side paths were marked "Verboden Toegang", Forbiden Entry. 

Heath.

As I left the heathland at a road by the edge of the town of Kalmthout there was a set of notice boards with a map. The area with entry forbidden from March to June was indeed very large, however use of some paths through it was allowed all year, but not the GR5. Neither the GR5 nor its Variant was marked, but translating the small print on a direction indicator I had photographed where the GR5 Variant re-joined the main route I saw that the Variant was marked "Altijd Toegankelijk", which Google Translate tells me means "Always Accessible". It would have been helpful if a suitably large notice with an English translation had been placed at the point where the GR5 Variant began if they really wanted to protect breeding birds or animals from people like me. I am now installed in a rather modern hotel, thinking about how naughty I have been and wondering what I will have for dinner in the restaurant next door.

Later: My next eleven days would be spent walking across Flanders, a Dutch speaking, largely flat area on the north side of Belgium. Consequently, in discussions with the waitress I selected a local Flemish dish. On being set before me I discovered it was a large, vol-au-vent, popular in Britain for diner parties in the 1970's. Mine was filled and overflowing with chicken in a creamy mushroom sauce,  and served with chips and mayonnaise, which everything seems to be in the Low Countries.

Halsteren to Bergen op Zoom: E2 Day 105

A circuitous path on a wet day with Fort de Roovere being the best part.

Leaving my hotel at Bergen op Zoom I caught a bus back to Halsteren where I finished my walk yesterday, then I walked back to my hotel on the E2. The route was a circuitous one, intricate in places, with the aim of visiting Fort de Roovere and staying in wooded areas as far as possible. Rain continued throughout my walk, which included three types of landscape. Firstly, urban areas of housing of different ages by Halsteren and Bergen, looking drab in the poor weather, although in good condition. Secondly mature woodland, wet and dripping, of oak, beech and pines, with sycamore, rowan and holly in the understorey. In better weather walking through the new soft, green leaves would have been a pleasure. Thirdly, there was parkland around Fortress de Roovere.

Built in 1628 with earthen ramparts designed to absorb cannon fire and "bastions" sticking out at the corners so that armies attacking the ramparts between could be fired open by the defenders. The fort was part of a defensive line extending to Bergen op Zoom. As a defensive measure the defenders could also flood the fields in front of the line making it difficult for any attacking armies, in particular the Spanish from whom the Dutch had fought for their independence. 

Looking down on the moat and some of the earthen ramparts from the observation tower.

The fortress had an unusual sloping observation tower to look down on the ramparts, albeit partially obscured by trees. Poor visibility due to rain, made it impossible to see the more distant sights beyond the nearby treetops, that were marked on a metal panorama on the observation deck. 

Sloping observation tower.

The other unusual feature was the Moses footbridge across the moat. Constructed so that you were walking on a surface a few feet below the water level. The top of the wooden, but impermeable sides, was just a few inches above the water level.

Moses bridge. 

Eventually reaching the centre of Bergen op Zoom the central market square looked miserable, with its lines of empty wet chairs and tables outside bars and restaurants. I found a café for some lunch where there was plenty of room for me inside. 

A school was disgorging its young pupils as I returned to my hotel. In Britain this creates congestion as parents pick up their offspring in cars. Here, although a few cars pulled up, many parents arrived on foot or by bicycle. Some children, who I am sure will do well in their later life, walked home on their own. Curious bicycles were used by several of the parents. They were either purpose made or adapted to carry young children, generally in a carrier in front of the rider, with the front wheel moved forward of the handlebars to accommodate its bulk. One was like a rickshaw, the children in a cabin in front and the parent peddling from a position behind them. Later I returned to the central square and enjoyed an asparagus menu, in which the first and second course included asparagus. It was to celebrate the asparagus season which is now coming to an end.

Central square in Bergen op Zoom, emptied by rain.

Battenord to Halsteren: E2 Day 104

The dams across the delta were the highlight of my day, but it was overshadowed by frustration in trying to find accommodation.

As I went to use the toilets this morning the lady cleaning them commented that although it was misty at least there was no wind, or rain I added. As I walked along the first of today's dykes, the low clouds were hiding the top of the tall wind turbines. Their slender white stalks just melted into whiteness as they rose into the sky. They seemed linked with the giant "Delta Works" that I crossed today. A series of linked dams designed to prevent a repeat of the deadly flood of 1953. 

I crossed two dams, the Grevelingdam and the Philipsdam. My image of huge concrete barriers was wrong, the dams largely consisted of grass dykes or banks with a road on top, areas of trees, nature reserves on what were maybe once islands, and wind turbines. Arms of land stretched out from the dam to incorporate some of the huge white columns of the turbines. In the Philipsdam there were lock gates. These had recently been renovated. The information boards, which included an English translation, proudly explained a new bubble curtain designed to separate fresh water one side of the dam, used for drinking and irrigation, and salt water sea on the other side. However the explanation was confusing or maybe just incomplete as at one point it was speaking of a horizontal interface between fresh and the more dense salt water, and at other times implied a vertical interface, created by the bubble screen. I watched a large, long, low barge approach the enormous lock, parting the still waters with its bow wave. In this I was assisted by a concrete observation tower that I climbed up. In Britain I felt sure a similar large construction, for example a barrage across the River Severn to generate power, would never be built. They would say the cost was too high and the environment would be too upset, there would be long planning delays and in the unlikely event that such a project was approved there would be endless reviews, studies and efforts to try and stop it.

Approach to locks on Philipsdam. 

A little after the dam the route deviated through a nature reserve. It seemed a scruffy affair with assorted trees, elder, hazel, willow and others and a winding ditch. Cattle and horses were being grazed in the reserve, their hoof prints churning up the path in places. The horses had foals and the cows had calves so I took a detour to avoid getting close to them as advised by the signs.

There followed a stretch beside the Schelde Rijnkanal, a canal busy with barges motoring up or down with cargoes of containers, dry and liquid bulk products. Maybe heading to or from Antwerp or Rotterdam.

A few times today I was not sure whether I should have been on the top of a dyke or on the cycle path and local traffic route that ran beside it. Either way I reached Nieuw Vossemeer around 2:30 pm. I had been trying to find somewhere to stay, one campsite was opening for the season in a week's time, another seemed permanently closed, yet another I could not find. Of the Bed & Breakfast establishments they were either full or their owners were busy elsewhere that evening. As there were plenty of hours of daylight left I continued on my way, initially by the canal, and latter over fields to Halsteren. 

As I walked I mused that in England the paths run around the edge of fields or even through the middle among the crops. Whereas in the Netherlands the footpaths are generally kept separate from the fields, such as on cycle paths with fences each side, quiet roads, on top of dykes or through areas set aside for nature.

On reaching the top end of Halsteren I caught a bus into Bergen op Zoom, where there was more accommodation, thankful that Google could tell me which bus to catch, where it went from and when it would arrive. There was not as much hotel availability as I thought, the places I had previously looked at were fully booked. Bed & Breakfast prices also seemed similar to those in hotels, i.e. more expensive than I would prefer.

I have now settled into a hotel. Tomorrow I will return to Halsteren and complete the section of the LAW 5-1 from there to Bergen. As it includes a fort I am looking forward to it.

Stellendam to Battenord: E2 Day 103

Although today's walk lacked variety I did see an eagle.

Sunday today, so the shops were closed in Stellendam where I thought they might have a coffee machine or some bakery goods. Not that I am suffering, I stocked up on breakfast food yesterday,  I just miss a coffee, must be caffeine dependency. As I walked along the village streets I thought they would look a lot better without the many parked cars (or was I just grumpy)!

I returned to the LAW 5-1 through a square of woodland and continued along the top or beside the dyke protecting the area from high water levels. On my left there was farmland, including some tulip fields (although with few flowers) and long lines of poplar trees. A few tulips had escaped and we growing on the dyke. On my right there was a wide strip of nature reserve, and the waters of the delta were somewhere beyond. Technically the LAW 5-1 followed the top of the dyke, where there was long grass, buttercups and other wildflowers. Unfortunately, rain earlier this morning made the grass wet, which meant my trousers and boots also became wet, as well as picking up clumps of dandelion seeds. As compensation there were concrete posts every 200 metres with the distance from a fixed point marked on them. This allowed me to count down the distance to the village of Herkingen, the only one I would be visiting today. As water was beginning to penetrate my boots and wet my socks, for a large part of my walk today I used the tarmac cycle path that ran parallel to the dyke.

Looking down from the dyke on passing cyclists.

Walking on top of a dyke, the line of trees is in front of farmland. 

The nature reserve on my right was a jumble of bushes and small trees growing in waterlogged ground, or else areas of straw coloured reeds and rough grass. Paths had been cut through it in places, with their surfaces built up to allow easy walking. I followed one to investigate. On each side of the path the densely packed shrubs looked impenetrable. I stopped where the path reached a flat area of marshland with the sea beyond (or at least a large area of water, it was probably behind one of the Delta Works barriers).

Continuing along the cycle path (which here also acted as a quiet road to a car park), I passed a group of bird watchers. On asking what they were looking at, a man let me look through his powerful, tripod mounted telescope. There were two eagles, one in a large nest in a tree, the other perched on a branch nearby. From the sounds there were many birds enjoying the nature reserve from honking geese to the distinctive call of a cuckoo. I saw lapwings, muttering mallards, moorhens and coots. A single deer stood out among a flock of geese on a wet field. There was a smell of the sea in the air.

Plenty of people were out enjoying a dry Sunday, the usual variety of cyclists but also rarer types such as a tandem and two people on bicycles operated in a recumbent position. One large group with matching lycra shirts had stopped while one of them repaired a puncture. It reminded me of one reason why I do not cycle.

At Herkingen I was initially disappointed as the bar where I thought they might serve food for lunch was "Gesloten", closed. I walked down to the marina where hundreds of recreational boats, mainly sailing boats, were moored. There I was glad to find an open restaurant and finally enjoy my first coffee if the day (two actually) and a sort of raw beef open sandwich with salad, although the truffle mayonnaise rather dominated the taste. 

Looking at a sign about the disastrous 1953 flood as I left the harbour a man struck up a conversation with me  From him I learnt that many of the houses in the village were second homes used for holidays, often by Germans, and that most of the residents commuted to work elsewhere. He said it was a good place to bring up children, with no busy roads nearby. His comment on German visitors aligned with my observation that the only other nationality in the campsites seemed to be Germans, and as I travelled east there were more signs in German as well as Dutch. I should have asked him why a Canadian flag was the only one flying at the harbour. 

Walking on top of a dyke coated in tarmac for a few kilometres I reached the small harbour of Battenord and Camping de Grevelingen. A neat and tidy campsite, I am looking forward to visiting the snack bar this evening. The receptionist said I was the third backpacker this week. I am not alone!

Sunset at Battenord.

Rockanje to Stellendam: E2 Day 102

A walk in warm weather with a long lunch in the pretty village of Goedereede.

As I walked around the tidy outskirts of Rockanje, I admired the herringbone brickwork with which the road was paved. Neat, orderly, in good condition, but not showy, which struck me as very Dutch. I then plunged into the dunes, grassed or wooded like those yesterday. As I climbed over the last dune an impressive sight revealed itself. There was a long, pristine sandy beach, the sand mixed with shell fragments. A few people were thinly scattered over the strand. Swimmers in wet suits, people exercising their dogs and one couple walking their Shetland ponies (or maybe the Dutch equivalent). Beyond the beach and an expanse of water was the Haringvlietsluizen. A barrier built to avoid flooding when sea levels were high, part of the "Delta Works" constructed to prevent a repeat of the deadly flood of 1953 in which 2000 people died.

Unexpected sandy, North Sea beach.

Sadly the café at the start of the dam was closed so I continued along the base of the grass embankment towards the central part of the barrier. A few campervans were parked, no doubt having stopped there overnight. As the grass started to give way to concrete I followed the GR5 onto the top of the dam. Eleven huge sluice gates followed which controlled the flow into the sea. An information board was the first I found with an English translation. It described the gates as the "tap of Europe" controlling with other Delta Works flow from the Rhine and Maas, rivers which together drained a large slice of Western Europe.

Approaching the Haringvlietsluizen dam, GR5 walkers ahead.

Sluice gates.

Today, maybe as it was a Saturday, many people were out, mostly on bicycles. There were fast cyclists, bent over their handlebars in all the gear with lightweight racing bikes. There were elderly couples cycling, head up in a more sedate manner. A mother singing to her child, which was somehow attached between her and the bike's handlebars. Another mother had her baby in a carrier somehow located over the front wheel. Family groups went past chatting, while a few conversed on their phones while cycling. In Britain a cyclists faces hazards such as being crushed by a turning lorry or colliding with the door of a parked car, opened by an unobservant owner. The comprehensive cycle paths, well separated from traffic make cycling in the Netherlands a safer and more viable form of transport (especially when there was no headwind). However, as the LAW 5-1 ran along many cycle paths, I had to be careful to look behind me if I deviated from the side of the track to avoid a collision with any fast moving bike coming up from behind.

Today I also met my first long distance walkers in the Netherlands, one, with a large backpack, warned me that a bridge was down for repairs and suggested a way to avoid it and the associated diversion. Not taking the advice I went and viewed the bridge works. The swing bridge (one where the deck swings upwards helped by counterweights) had its road deck removed, I assumed for renovation. In the absence of the bridge the diversion took me over some lock gates, interesting as they were paired, one angled to contain a higher water level on the seaward side and the other to cope when the higher level was to the landward side, maybe when the tide was low.

I found myself following two girls with rucksacks. Although I was walking faster I kept stopping to take photos and read information boards. Worrying that they might think I was stalking them, I increased my speed to overtake them. We had a brief conversation as I passed. I discovered they were from Belgium and also walking the LAW 5-1 and GR5 in a number of trips. Having already covered the GR5 in their own country they were now tackling the equivalent Dutch part. A cyclist wanted to come by, interrupting our conversation, so I took my leave and stepped up my pace.

Goedereede was another sweet Dutch village with houses lining the canal. Stopping at the busy bar I ordered coffee and a goat's cheese salad (to improve my intake of fruit and vegetables). Service was slow, maybe they were extra busy as the bar next door seemed closed for renovation. However it was a pleasant place to linger and watch the comings and goings: local ladies sipping coffee; cyclists stopped for lunch; a family group with noisy kids; a very old lady with a stick accompanied by her grey haired daughter. As I finished my salad two ladies were hovering, evidently wanting my table, so I paid and went to the nearby SPAR to stock up on food as I was unsure of the eating options for my next two nights. I also bought an ice cream and Coke for dessert and enjoyed them at a table outside the shop. Two teenagers were hanging around. As I got up to go, on seeing me look for a rubbish bin, they took the can and wrapping paper off me and ran over to put them into the relevant recycling and general waste containers. An unexpected courtesy that I doubt you would experience from youngsters in Britain. 

Goedereede 

After Goedereede, there was a stroll, by a herd of cows eyeing me up, to the dyke separating farmland from a nature reserve of low trees, beyond which lay an unseen body of water. After following the dyke for a while I turned off into Stellendam, another neat Dutch village, and made my way to a campsite. Unfortunately I seemed to have pitched near an ants' nest and they have mounted an invasion into the inner part of my tent while I left it open to dry. Extensive brushing and squashing was needed to remove them.

Bins angled especially for cyclists. 

Later I walked into the village for diner. As it was now drizzling after a generally dry day everyone was inside. Being Saturday night I suppose, the place was packed but fortunately the friendly waitresses found me a spot. Tonight I was being a bit more ambitious and went for the "hete kip", which Google said was hot chicken. It came with chips and salad and was hot in a thermal sense rather than a spicy one. 

Maassluis to Rockanje: E2 Day 101

A long day but an enjoyable one with a visit to the old fortress town of Brielle and a winding walk through wooded dunes.

My day's journey began with a trip across the Nieuw Waterweg on a foot passenger ferry. When I arrived the Otter (the ferry's name) was on the opposite bank, a few hundred metres away. The water in the wide canal was moving at a good speed towards the sea. Vessels heading inland made a large foamy, bow wave, whereas those travelling downstream barely parted the water. With its bow pointed upstream the Otter crabbed across the waterway to reach us. A few passengers with bicycles disembarked and I joined two people with bicycles and one with a motor scooter getting on. Then for 95 cents, card only, we made the short crossing in a break between commercial traffic. 

View from ferry.

For the next part of my journey I followed cycle paths between grass verges in a mixed urban, industrial and rural setting, crossing three road bridges. The first bridge was a vertical lift bridge, the middle section able to rise up between two towers to allow large ships through. On the River Tees, a few weeks ago, I saw a bridge designed to work on the same principle but the one today was a modern version. Several groups of cyclists rode by me, some speeding by, head down, leaving me with a view of lycra covered bottoms. Others were touring more slowly in more stately positions, chatting to each other. Once over the last bridge I was on a quieter trail beside the Brielle Meer, a body of water with trees around and a few moored recreational boats, unlike the commercial shipping on the channels I had crossed.

Converging straight lines and vertical lift bridge.

Brielle was an old town surrounded by earth ramparts where significant action took place in the Dutch war of independence against the Spanish in the 16th century. As I walked around the raised banks I spotted a few cannon placed at "bastions". A windmill caught my attention as its intact sails were turning unlike others I had seen. Information boards below were in Dutch but I determined that it was a modern reproduction, there had however been one on the site in centuries past as an old map showed. I suspected that the arms of the windmill were being turned by electric rather than the barely perceptible wind. 

I walked into the centre of Brielle through a long terrace of buildings, many flying the Dutch flag of red, white and blue. After the inevitable coffee and cake I noticed a few soldiers and alarmingly, a sand bagged area in which a soldier manned a mean looking machine gun aimed at the crowd. Fortunately there had been no invasion, it was just a re-enactment of some sort.

Street in Brielle.

Waymarks leaving Brielle were confusing, maybe because the E2 and E9 were crossing in this area (the E9 is a coastal route from Spain to the Baltics). Following the track on my GPS I regained navigation control after some wandering and was led into a wooded area with sycamore, beeches and poplars. I had a brief climb up a watch tower at another fortress site with earth ramparts and cannon. The view from the top added little to my knowledge of the area, the large cranes of a port were easily visible from ground level. 

Extensive wooded sand dunes formed the last part of my walk. Much of it was on sandy paths among deciduous trees, sometimes tall often smaller. Beneath, a variety of flowers were blooming, but only the patches of wild garlic with its white flowers had a distinctive smell. One stretch had a variety of plastic gnomes and animals beside the path, including some pony sized plastic horses. Lakes of different sizes were scattered among the low sandy hillocks, often lined with reeds and sporting a few ducks. One lake had a "Landscape Visitor Centre" beside it. Unfortunately all the information was in Dutch. The lack of any translations on information boards and menus suggests the area I was walking through attracted few foreign visitors. In one place symbols indicated coffee and ice cream lay ahead, sadly the promise of these signs did not materialize.

The dunes. 

My ankles were suffering from walking on the soft sand so I was very pleased to reach the Molecaten campsite before the town of Rockanje. Now I am pitched on the Trekkerveld, a small patched of grass reserved for backpackers between permanent chalets and caravans. Being rather tired I am also appreciating the campsite restaurant, again going for words on the menu I recognise, a burger and chips.

Hook of Holland to Maassluis: E2 Day 100

Holland looked lovely today in the sunshine as I visited woods, fields and attractive towns where houses lined the canals.

In the Netherlands the E2 officially follows the LAW 5-1 long distance path, also called the Nederlands Kustpad, marked with continental red and white waymarks, however unofficially it is referred to as the GR5 (which starts in Belgium and continues to Nice) and the guidebook I was following exclusively speaks of the GR5. Either way I had 138 kilometres of the Netherlands to follow crossing the large Delta of the Rhine and Maas rivers in the south west of the country.

On disembarking from the overnight ferry from Harwich, England, while waiting for passports to be examined I chatted with some Dutch people. I felt like a child asking them how to say good morning (goedemorgen) and thank you (dank je) in Dutch. Normally I would have revised this during my pre-trip planning but I was distracted by renovations to our house. Following the red and white waymarks of the LAW 5-1 today was also a bit of a childish game, looking at all the posts to see if there was any sign of one. In general the waymarking was pretty good, although at times I needed to consult my GPS.

The waymarks started at a finger post at the train station by the ferry terminal. Three directions were marked and they covered the E8 and E9 European Long Distance Trails as well as the E2. The  LAW 5-1 and GR5 were also referenced so it was a pretty comprehensive sign to start my journey. I quickly left the waymarks to divert for a coffee at a nearby shopping centre, before entering woodland on the official trail.

It was not to be the only woods today. Although the landscape in the area was very ordered and planned, with straight drainage channels and neat houses, some places were allowed to grow wild. In such areas, beside winding tarmac or gravel paths, there were sycamore saplings and more mature oak and beech trees. Half hidden among the trees there were a few pillboxes left by the Germans from the last war, they now make ideal bat "caves". Cow parsley, comfrey, dandelions, bluebells and stichwort lined the paths which were populated by dogs taking their owners for a walk and a fewer joggers. Beyond the woods there were acres of greenhouses, the ones nearby were growing tomatoes. 

Woodland by the path.

Much of the walk was on straight cycle tracks by fields, roads and scattered houses. Bicycles of all kinds passed me, I was careful to keep to the side of the track to avoid a collision as fast riders raced by. Mopeds, scooters and mobility scooters also used the tarmac paths and cycle tracks, creating additional hazards. Many wind turbines were visible and I also saw a few traditional windmills today.

Part of the route, was on the banks of the Nieuwe Waterweg. Commercial vessels were constantly sailing up and down this water way, which leads to Rotterdam and rivers beyond, carrying containers and bulk liquids. Larger vessels, with a high bridge looked like sea going vessels, although not as large as the container ships I saw at Felixstowe yesterday, they still created large waves in their wakes, causing swans and ducks near the bank to rapidly bob up and down. Smaller vessels with a low height, like large barges, were I assumed river traffic, maybe heading up the Rhine, their reduced  height making it possible for them to pass under bridges. There were also a few dredgers, needed to keep the water ways open. Beyond the Nieuwe Waterweg on the opposite bank there were lines of tank farms and refineries. I could also see large ships on some parallel channel beyond.

Vessel on the Nieuwe Waterweg. 

Although my destination for the day was the town of Maassluis, the LAW 5-1 headed north on reaching its outskirts, taking me into fields used for cattle. Eventually I was brought to the small town of Maasland, a pretty place with the houses lining a canal. I stopped at a coffee cum bric-a-brac shop for a latte and slice of apple tart. The friendly couple running it seemed keen to hear what their lone customer was doing.

Canal in Maasland.

I continued beside the canal through housing into the centre of Maassluis, spotting a few great crested grebes on the water and disturbing a heron which I had not expected so closing to housing. The town seemed a busy place with lots of boats moored up, such as old tugs. Hotel Maassluis is right next to the Nieuwe Waterweg so I can see ships from my bedroom window.

Canal in Maassluis.

In the evening I returned to a part of town with a square of pavement cafes. Picking a bar I ordered a Schnitzel for my evening meal, it being the only thing on the Dutch menu I recognised. At eight o'clock conversation in the busy bar area fell silent for two minutes. It was May 4th "Commemoration of the Dead Day", like Britain's Remembrance day, but on a different date. It commemorates all who died in the Second World War and in subsequent conflicts.