Holland Adventure Part Three...................

Thankfully, after a second pretty wet and windy night north of Leiden, we woke to a dry tent, eternally grateful once again that the rain seems to stay off whilst we pack up as I’m not looking forward to our first wet morning. After breakfasting like kings, the weather didn’t look too hot, so we set off fairly sharpish. Waving goodbye to Leiden, we decided to circuit round Den Hague in search of quieter places, and Delft seemed like a good idea. A bit of a windy day, with a fairly stiff headwind, provided us with the first real chance to use the waterproofs which performed admirably and we were dry as a bone underneath. We don’t yet have overshoes, so slightly damp feet were the only issue particularly when these are the only ones, being clipped in, that we can cycle in.

Arriving in Delft, we quickly decided to stock up on food for tea, and beer of course ( can’t forget the beer! ) and made the decision to head for our next campsite on the other side of town.  A lovely cycle through some woods brought us to the site down a farm track beyond the farm in a field next to a small canal. When we arrived there as no one there to sign in with, this being our first naturecamp, so we found a nice spot in the empty field beyond the showers and loos and got pitched and organised in the usual 15 minutes – getting good at this. The campsite consisted of a small orchard, a couple of fields for camping, and a fairly nice building containing the showers, loos, washing up area and ‘wet weather room’. 


Washing done and tea made, we managed to eat outside as the skies had cleared, and we even managed to enjoy some evening sun before turning in to sleep like logs once again.

Come morning, the folk who run the camp had arrived back and we managed to get paid up for a couple of nights. The site is run by volunteers who take turns to stay for two or three weeks ( presumably free ), take payments and keep the place clean and tidy. The retired couple who were there were in charge for a month, and were living in a little Eriba caravan with awning, my heart’s desire when I get too old or stiff to go camping any more. Eriba’s are really for people who used to camp but don’t like the thought of graduating to a travelling bungalow complete with flocked wallpaper and curtains! Made in Germany, they’re beautifully made, simple, and fitted with every little gadget, nook and cranny you need for travelling life. If IKEA made caravans, they’d look like this. Most people who own one live for the most part outside them, but they do provide that little bit of extra comfort, and would extend the possibilities for travelling in the spring and autumn, especially in Scotland when it can be too bloody cold to camp. It was a nice surprise to only be charged a flat rate of about 12Euros per night, with free solar heated showers which thankfully never seemed to run out of hot water.

We headed back through the woods into Delft for the day to have a look about town. On our way there we had to negotiate some canal works ( which involved people in wetsuits! ) and, approaching a sign which said ‘Fietsers Anstappen’ , which means ‘get aff yer bike!’ I decided it looked fairly safe and carried on at the risk of Al calling me a wuss. Big mistake! As I rode over the metal plates over the canal, my wheels caught on the edge of one and skidded out from under me, landing me unceremoniously on the ground. It all happened in a flash, and I had no time to unclip, so by the time Al had reached me I was jumping about on the path clutching my leg and shouting out all manner of bad words. Luckily, cycling gloves and helmet protected my hands and head, and  I suffered no more than a badly bruised leg and a slightly bashed ego. I’ve learned my lesson though that the Dutch know more about this than I do, and I’ll be obeying the signs from now on!

Reaching the river, we followed it into the town centre, parked up our bikes on the edge of the town square in one of the only free available spaces, and went for a stroll round the town, which is very pretty even in the rain. Our day consisted mainly of eating and drinking, using this as an excuse to shelter from the rain! The market stalls in the square were selling fishy snacks in the form of raw herring (!) and kibbeling. The Dutch seem to love their herring, much like the Scandinavians, and have a rather seagull like technique for eating this. The head is simply thrown back and the whole fish dropped in rather like a sword swallower. They also sell a really basic snack which seems really popular and is just a bit of herring in a white roll - Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall would be proud! 


Much as I like herring, usually pickled in the form of rollmops mind you, we decided to pass and went for the kibbeling instead. This is just smallish chunks of deep fried battered fish which comes with a choice of mayonnaise...we went for the garlic version, yum!


Our campsite for this couple of nights was great, with only one real fault, in that the grass badly needed a cut. It was so damp it was hard to keep feet dry. When we arrived back we had a new neighbour, Ole from Denmark via Hull where he had been based as a fisherman for most of his working life. In his late sixties or early seventies, Ole had been on a three month trip back to Denmark and was well set up with all the gear you'd really need and had a pretty cool Hileberg tent that could have slept about four people. Needless to say he pulled a small trailer behind his bike, something I don't fancy myself, but we had to admire the guy.


Al insisted that we move the tent as the previous night had been a little lumpy for him. We both sleep on Thermarest mats, and as Al's is a little older than my version, and a little heavier we had agreed to swap. I had bought a ladies version, pretty much the lightest I could find, but in hindsight carrying a few extra ounces would have made for a much better night's sleep. I suppose you get used to the mats after a while, but I woke each morning well rested but stiff as a board. Thankfully Al had been a true gent and agreed to swap with me, but the bump had to be dealt with so we carefully lifted the tent onto flatter ground. Dinner was served that night on the covered balcony of the shared room, in complete silence, with only the patter of the rain on the roof to be heard.