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Published: August 26th 2016
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Days 9 & 10
20160826
Arnhem to Nijmegen to Den Bosch
The Arnhem accommodation ‘disaster' wasn’t really so bad. I was given a single room, and offered the sitting room, t.v. and tea and coffee rights in the twin room next door, since no one was using it. I was just settling down to watch Ajax play in a Champions League qualifier when I heard the downstairs doorbell ring. I could hear conversation in broken English, and immediately sensed the game was up. I moved my laptop and half bottle of red wine back to my allotted quarters and was subsequently introduced to two Danish bikers who had turned up out of the blue, without a booking! To usurp my pleasure! Alors!
It was already 9.30pm, so making the best of a bad lot I toddled off to bed to finish the Ruby Wax book on ‘Mindfulness’.
Interesting character, interesting book. I thought I had my fair share of existential issues, but on reading this book I realise how completely grounded in reality and sanity I am. I do not understand at all her wants or motivations. I mean the top two wants. A
private jet and meeting Oprah Winfrey. Is that a joke I missed? My top two wants are that my children outlive live me, and have interesting happy lives; not a mention in this book. Poor Ruby, I hope she’s doing well. If age doesn’t deliver some kind of wisdom, then what are you doing with that brain!
I started reading Ruby’s book on ‘Mindfulness’, on day 4, in Den Helder. As I was exiting the jacked up Submarine I looked down into the car park, and saw a middle-aged couple wearing the same tee-shirts.
Back to Arnhem, another lovely morning. After Gerry’s pleasant and well stocked Dutch breakfast, in the fine company of the Danish bikers (who loved my bike escalator story), I set off for the Airborne Museum at Oosterbeek. This meant back-tracking north, which is kind of counter intuitive for me, but was made up for by the return ride on the electric ferry across the mighty River Rhine. The museum is based in the Hotel that was used as British forces H.Q. and tells the story of operation ‘Market Garden’ through a variety of stills, maps, prose, and film footage. I know this story well,
so it was really more of a visit of remembrance, than anything else. I cannot imagine how bad things have to get to find whole populations at war. I cannot imagine volunteering to almost certainly die.
Life goes on. I traversed form Oosterbeek to Nijmegen, and arrived mid-afternoon. I spent a decent hour sitting in the shady boulevard opposite the central station reading, and watching the skateboarders, before heading off for my next overnight stop at friends in Malden. I had a wonderful time at the Murphy’s. I was welcomed into their home. They fed me grandly, accommodated me, listened to my travel ‘war stores’, and indulged my wine excesses. I also had the privilege of meeting two fine young adults (Lauren and Christopher), who have the verve of knowing the future is theirs! Do it!
The ride to Den Bosch was ok. The route was lovely, mainly through wooded parkland and shady tree lined ruler straight avenues. The only problem was the surfaces. They were often cobbles, bricks, gravel and sand. These surfaces really do slow you down, and hurt. I’m not really in any hurry but tough surfaces make for a sore saddle, especially on a
hot day!
So, here’s a novel turn up. The only booking I could find in Den Bosch was in a self catering bed-sit complex, but it’s really nice. There are no restaurants within easy walking distance so I walked around to the local Lidl, and bought Paella, garlic bread, muesli and milk. All for €10.00, and little eye contact!
Now, I appreciate that I’m a complete outsider, but since I’ve been in the Netherlands I haven’t heard a single raised voice, car horn honked, street argument or any kind of altercation. Everyone I’ve asked for directions or information has been incredibly helpful and friendly. Population is dense, taxes are high, and peace and calm is all around. This is an incredibly relaxed, maybe even subdued culture. I’m no authority, and am clearly too old to recognise modern youth culture, but the only Dutch bands I know of are Focus and Golden Earring. Is there nothing to rebel against here? Is there something in the water?
I might see the sights of Den Bosch tomorrow morning, on my way to Breda, but for now I’m just happy to be clean, well fed, and comfortable
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