Sylvia's Journal

Holland greeted me with weather that should not have surprised me: cold, raw and rainy. Nevertheless, Sietske, a friend of hers who is a professional sailor (and used to much water), and three dogs took me out for a walk along the Bosbaan, Holland’s official racing track for boats. It is where Sietske and I spent many weekends during our high school years, when we were in the race for the national rowing championships (we didn’t) in the category 14-16 years first and then 17-18 years after we outgrew the first category.

We dried ourselves off in a lovely goat farm & restaurant (Ridammerhoeve) which may well be a vision of what Tessa and Steve are saving for.

Sietske dropped me off at the train station for the one and a half hour train ride to my B&B in Enkhuizen through wet city- and landscapes pressed down by a very low hanging sky.

I was picked up at the train station by one of the innkeepers, the wife, who put my heavy suitcase on the back of her bike. We walked alongside it crossing one picturesque canal after another. I kept thinking how much Axel would have liked it.

I am now established in the blue room which we had reserved and look out over the rooftops of old houses and the magnificent spire of the Zuiderkerk.

While waiting for the clouds to drift away I busied myself arranging for a haircut and a hot stone massage, all the rest is secondary.