Zealand, and the discovery of an ideal prototype for a holiday

If you know where that is, you get five bonus points.

Situated in the central-south of the Netherlands, it is a collection of reclaimed islands. Recently, when I was out of sync, I decided to get my mind back on track by spending four days in a lovely Pension(?) in Rennese. During this period I found the perfect way to spend a holiday - wake up with the Sun, bicycle for four to five hours, thereby getting exercise and seeing the land, followed by an hours steady gustation (or breakfast), before spending the rest of the day working while lapping up icecream. About the one hour gustations, I kid you not. When I arrived, there was this large jar of banana nut cereal, when I left, there was this large jar.

This area is flat; so flat that mole-hills fill in for hills, and one can spot women sunbathing five miles away. Too bad the Dutch women never measured up too much, or, perhaps, the good ones escaped before I landed.

A number of quaint little towns dot this area. All of them are rather old, and having had a rich mercantile past, still seem to remember glories past, though most of the Dutch presence in shipping has moved to Rotterdam, about which the less said the better. Though to be fair Rotterdam did suffer a rather severe lashing during WWII - all buildings, except the present Town Hall were destroyed. Talk about Germans being a thorough breed.

Anyway, coming back to Zealand - Zierikzee, Viere, Domburg, Middleburg. Small towns, with big bloody churches, especially Viere. Pointers of old money. Middleburg even had a lovely old museum in its centre, while Domburg had the lovely Kasteel Westerhoven on its outskirts - a medieval little castle, but a new restaurant. The beaches were nice too, though lacked trees of any kind, which, for me, are what make a beach. Especially, as I can't swim, so that to me a beach is but a place to rest underneath a tree letting the sea help me tide over several books in a day.

Then there were the old windmills, each of which has its own name. And the dykes, riding a bike over which was a great experience, though the dykes themselves were nasty black tarry mounds of man's ugly resourcefulness. Also the sheep. Surprised to see a crazy Indian at that'o clock, on an ugly metallic paraphenalia. Finally, the bridges. Long, long bridges, stretching North to South, so that early mornings I could see the Moon set on my right, and the Sun rise on my left. Almost made a poet of me, but better sense prevaled, and the World was saved. Actually, it may not have been saved, but that is for another place, another day.

Across from the Pension in Renesse, was this lovely cafe, with great music and a better ambience. There were books all around. Just plonk your laptop tabletop, order some bruschetta, and some hot 'n sweet coffee, and you are all set... up until the lovely Italian ice cream, unfortunately served by statuesque Dutch milkmaids, not sultry Italians, beckoned you from down the road.

After this I went to Amsterdam. Aha!, you say...