I booked six nights at Vakantiepark Delftse Hout from its reputation: as it’s listed by the Caravan and Motorhome Club, it’s no surprise. For all that there seem to be few British campers here. That being said, I shared a table with Sue and Philip from Leicester on the first night. They left a calling card on by bike this morning, saying “Happy Travels”. I had to go into town, to the pharmacy at the hospital, as I’d neglected to bring refills of Metformin for my pill box – everything else was OK. But it all adds to the adventure. What’s the saying? Adventures before dementia? Living the dream. I’d already woken in the night remembering my car documents were in the drawer at home. I’m not sure I’m fit to be let out. Anyway, the Hospital is 6500 steps from the van, so I’m getting my exercise. They also do good coffee, and a fresh sandwich.

I did think to combine it with a trip to see the two churches; but after taking a wrong turn along a canal bank, adding another few hundred metres – that makes three, I thought – and with the sky looking darker, I changed route to the bus station and caught a bus back to the campsite. Managed the tap-in, tap-out which I’d remembered to set up on the phone. All public transport uses this system, so If the weather’s not too bad I might do Rotterdam or The Hague tomorrow.

Anyway, I have run ahead. I stopped off in Baarle as planned, and bought supplies at the Albert Heijn supermarket; there was some evidence of the bonkers borders, complete with tobacco and booze shops for those inclined to a bargain, based on duty rate differentials. I didn’t stop long; the journey took me past some of the busiest cities in the Randstadt area. I was really pleased to see the IKEA in Delft, which is just round the corner from the campground. Meatballs anyone?

Yesterday I had a day of flâneurie round Delft, taking in the sights. They are very proud of local boy Johannes Vermeer – the trip round the Vermeer Centre was great, really interesting. Though none of his originals was there, there was. a good set of repros at the right size, plus commentary on restoration (in Dutch). Images of The Milkmaid, the View of Delft, and of course the Girl with the Pearl Earring were all over; either in full colour, or in Delft blue. Even the toilet block on the campsite has a massive Vermeer mural in Delft blue. (There’s pottery museum too, but I might just give that a miss.) The tourist shops are busy with Earring repros; and there seems to be quite a fad for AI generated variants.

Delft is yet another watery town; you have to be careful not to fall into one of its many canals. These vary from small, silted up reed banks; to smelly ditches; to serviceable waterways for small craft including canoes; to larger waterways with tour boats. There’s even a couple that look as if they could take a full size barge or two. Once upon a time boats from the VOC (Dutch East India Company) used to moor here. Whether that’s before or after the place burned down (twice) I’m not sure.

I decided that tonight, having got back and recovered from the grand medication trek, there was no use bringing the bike if I wasn’t going to use it. Next door is an area of countryside, quite a few hectares in size, set aside for walking, horse riding and picnics, the Delftse Hout itself. There’s a very serviceable cycle path that goes all round a large lake. I pumped up the tires, and took it all the way round. I had forgotten the pleasures of cycling. Especially pedalling within a couple of metres of a heron, looking for his or her tea. So it wasn’t a wasted effort, though the thought of urban cycling here: what with other users who know where the are going, and the proximity to watery channels with imprecise boundaries; means I’m saving the pleasure for more rural areas.