Sunday, April 18, 2010

Flower Sour

I cycled from Leiden to a campground near Nordwijkerhout. I took the inland route, including taking the bike ferry that I've already shown you.

It was one of those vast camps full of fixed dwellings and large campervans with satellite dishes set up on the grass beside them. I'm sorry: That's not camping; that's having a second house with wheels. Nordwijkerhout is near the coast, and I went for an evening ramble over the dunes to look at the North Sea. It looked cold.

Nord...etc is near Keukenhof. I was told that when I cycled through this area there would be an explosion of colours from the tulips fields. Can you guess how many tulips I saw in the wild? Zero? No, far more than that. Two? No, you've gone too far.

One fucking tulip. And it looked like it was having second thoughts. Because of the terrible winter in Europe, the tulips hadn't bloomed yet. There were a few brave daffodils, but who cares about them?

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