So that went well. Full of good memories of our trip to the Netherlands, we decided to organise another one 3 weeks later, repeating the coast-to-Amsterdam experience. De Lakens was full, but just up the road was Camping Bakkum. Zeeburg was full, but just down the road was Camping Gaasper.
At Bakkum, our pitch boasted a young oak tree, a hungry mouse family and a flowering plant courtesy of our neighbours who left without it. The site had a kibbeling n chip shop and mini farm.
We hired bikes and cycled up the coast most days. At the end of one idyllic day in a beach basket, I discovered my bike had been stolen because I’d forgotten to lock it. Two-hour backies are not particularly dignified for over-50s, but that was the only option, followed by admitting to the campsite my error and being charged £300 for it. Rats. It was all going so well.
When we checked out, they told us they’d found the bike in a ditch somewhere, so I only had to pay for a £50 lock replacement. Happy days!
We had three nights at Camping Gaasper. It’s a little too far out to cycle into Amsterdam centre, so the metro it was, past looming giant hogweed. We embellished this more ‘urban’ experience by visitng coffee shops, chatting to an English gent with a pitbull while necking lager, and returning to the coffee shop wares when back at camp. More loaded kimchi fries and nieuwe haring of course. And another cheese truckle from the camp shop, precariously managed by a run-ragged crusty, to take back.
Special mention goes to Brouwers Premium Bier for their epic choice of brand colours.
