Normandy

Perusals of a D day trip

Two days in Normandy courtesy of Brittany Ferries is a splendid investment. I had a few days left before returning to work and another of those ideas that I'd never got round to lodged itself in the forefront of my mind. Do a trip to the Normandy beaches and learn a little bit more about the sacrifice made on D day to save Europe. I was pleasantly surprised by the Brittany prices, £65 return for a voyage that takes a good 5 and three quarter hours each way, and the 8.15am ferry gets you there by mid afternoon. If you want to take your car it costs a lot more and I decided against it. It would be a lot more worth it if you were going to France for an appreciable time, perhaps a month, but certainly not for two days. I hired a car from Enterprise cars in Caen for about €95 all included, although I paid an extra €10 for tyres and windscreen protection.

Brittany Ferries chucks you into Normandy at the port of Oustreheim just upriver from Caen, and there you catch a bus for €1.45 into town, a half hour or so journey. Beats a taxi any day. The bus deposits you in the 'centre de ville' or at 'la gare' or the rail station, whichever you prefer. Well, as the car hire place was next to 'la gare' there was no question.

Let it be said that a conversation outside a loo led to the beginning of a beautiful relationship! Now normally if I told you I indulged in a profitable conversation outside a toilet you would give me a funny look, but this was different. Before the car hire I thought a loo stop in order and duly found a queue in la gare. Now Caen is a fair size rail station but there only appeared to be two cubicles and one was out of order. This was not looking good! In front of me an American was thanking a French couple for talking to him. They appeared to have given him priority in the queue. Then they engaged me in conversation and were trying to help me get my turn as it were. We practiced our French and English on one another then after the loo break they engaged me in further conversation, in the end buying me a coffee and giving me all their contact details. Is this the ongoing gratitude the people of Normandy feel for their liberators 70 years ago?


So I landed on my feet on the first day despite the odd hiccup. I had booked a car with Enterprise Cars the previous night and it had been a slightly tortuous phone conversation as firstly I could not hear the girl very clearly on the other end of the phone but also she had a foreign accent which whatever one may say can cause communication problems. In the end we got there, and I was happy I had my car sorted although not hearing from Enterprise by email or text before collecting the car.

On reaching the car hire office opposite la gare the nice French assistant looked for my reservation in 'Caen' on the computer without success. It suddenly dawned on me that the lady the previous night may have booked me a car somewhere else and I was right! She had indeed managed to book me a car in Cannes in the south of France rather than Caen in northern France. So much for my French pronunciation. Slightly problematic as Cannes was a long way to go. But Enterprise saved the day! Amazingly a gentleman had just returned a car to the office which was the one for me!

I still had to finalise my accommodation as being a last minute dot com. Ikind of guy. I travel to new destinations on the spur of the moment which makes life a bit more spontaneous but sometimes you can run into little glitches.

I still had not heard from the B and B I had tried to book the previous day. I fancied a bit of rural luxury in some classic French B and B stuffed with freshly made croissants, jugs of coffee, sheep and cows floating outside in the morning mists and obscenely soft and enveloping beds. In the end I sat in the cafe next door to the car hire centre and booked a room in a hotel with good reviews just down the road. I had already checked it out on the Internet in the UK. And that was a good decision as it was a great hotel at £57 for two nights, excellent value even though I had to share a shower although had my own sink and toilet. The room was clean, the bed comfortable, and the location quiet although right in the city centre. It all looked freshly decorated and overall was excellent value. It would be churlish to criticise but although the shower was modern and spotlessly clean anybody with a circumference more than a stick insect would be bumping and banging against the sides and door, even the roof, especially when drying oneself. The danger here would be sending the door crashing open against the wall at an unearthly hour. But ten out of ten overall for value and comfort, well done Hotel de La Paix. Many recommendations!


The icing on the cake was the evening. It had been a poor day weather wise, grey and a little wet, but the evening was amenable to a stroll. You literally fall out of the hotel into the city centre where the usual large church sits at the centre of the main intersections, and to the north the massive ramparts of William the Conquerors castle fortification. It is all ramparts, gates and towers but the scale is worthy of a big city, dominating the town centre like an elderly matriarch. I wandered the site checking the helpful signage relaying the history. It's a good spot for snaps as it occupies the high ground giving you a good city panorama.



Later I sauntered through the old town as you do looking for a good photo, and was just about to snap a street-shot when a young guy hailed me. He suggested I take the photo of a particular street to get the right light effects. He seemed friendly enough and then I asked him about restaurants and he invited me to join him and his friends as they were heading for a good one. An unusual invite but soon I was chatting to a group of four, two guys and two girls as we headed towards gastronomic heaven in Caen. What a nice way to end the day, the guy who had first engaged me taught children to swim for a living and was also a surfing dude, one of the girls had just returned from Sardinia, the other girl was apparently on holiday and I'm not quite sure what the other guy was doing as there was a certain amount of mirth around the discussion. I felt honoured to be invited like this by total strangers. This would just not happen in the UK!

We found the restaurant, The 'Verandah,' but unfortunately it was booked up so we had to make do with an ordinary pizzeria type place. No worries, it was just great to have some friendly company. Afterwards they invited me for a drink and we hit a bar filled with a fairly, but not very young clientele. Whilst there I was accosted by quite a merry Frenchman who asked me if I was German and then proceeded to tell me about his great experience in London on the music scene.

As I only had the car for two days my rough plan was to take the car down the coast for the first day as far as possible to cover as many of the D day beaches as I could. The guys I dined with recommended that I head up to the coast, don't worry so much about the eastern end of the beaches but get to Arromanche and then perhaps to Omaha Beach, this is the interesting area.

Parking in the middle of Caen is free overnight by the way and there are numerous spaces. I deposited my car fairly late both nights I was there and you are ok until 9.30am in the morning when you have to start paying on the meter. So that prompts a not too late getaway. That first morning I headed for Sword Beach at Luc sur Mere and then basically headed west with the odd retracing of my steps. I stopped off at Douvres La Deliverande, a very pleasant small town/large village for a coffee and croissant breakfast. The car park was free in the centre. This is one thing I am warming to in France, it is easy to park in built up areas and there are plenty of parking spaces, although admittedly it's not Paris.

A car in this area gives you great flexibility and you can just fly around from one monument, battlefield or museum to another so easily as everything is very accessible on good roads and relatively well signposted. I would very much recommend it. The weather was great and you can combine a bucket and spade holiday in a lovely area with oodles of history to lap up.




Berniere sur mere, a little further west from Luc sir Mere was the scene of one of the most iconic images of D day where the Canadians came to shore at Juno Beach and experienced heavy losses. The house that stood on that shore (La Maison des Canadiens, Place du 6 Juin) was in those photographic images and is now given over as a memorial to the 6th June 1944. A guy in the garden with a glass of wine and a book invited me in and took me on a quick tour. He was like a caretaker and guardian of the site and was full of stories about the history of the house and what happened on D day. There is a bit of a museum in there with some mementoes, the odd soldiers uniform and other artefacts.

He pointed along the shore to the German battery which I had missed. They designed the batteries to strafe along the shore rather than straight out to sea, so that protection was given by the concrete on the seaward side against incoming fire. This would give the Germans a wide tranche of incoming soldiers to aim at. The guy told me about a German sniper who was caught by a Canadian and offered him money to save his life. This Canadian in his old age had come back to France years later and visited the house, but when asked what happened to the sniper in the end did not answer. Snipers are high value captives or targets so you can imagine what happened to him.

This area now is a prime seaside spot, and of course it was before the Germans came when rich Parisians came and built their villas and gardens on the coast. The coast is now given over to tourism and the beaches are great, beautiful golden sand and a tide that goes way out. A nice place to come apart from the history. In Courseulles-sur-mer is the Canadian museum for Juno Beach, well worth a visit. Courseulles is a pretty little port with the usual smattering of bars, cafes and restaurants, and also has an attractive marina. Beware however the swing bridges which can open at the most inconvenient time to allow the marine traffic through. This does not stop the through motor traffic, but if you are hot footing around between the town and the museum on foot may face a bit of a delay. The very moment I decided to leave my cafe after lunch and cross the bridge virtually the whole marina decided to go out to sea to fish or whatever, and we had to wait for a long line of boats to leave.

The Juno Beach museum (7 euro entry) is just over the bridge from the town centre, dedicated to the Canadian contribution to the Normandy landings. It is a modern building looking out to sea which you can't miss, standing in an open space which is sprinkled with pieces of old military hardware,  characteristic of this area. The museum trail starts with a short film, then you head into the museum proper, which is a much more comprehensive coverage of Canadian history of the time leading up  to the war, the large scale immigration of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, the history of the Great Depression and how it affected Canada. In fact a full social and economic history followed by preparation for war. Plenty of time is needed to do the museum justice, I would say you need a good couple of hours. The museum trail finishes with another film.

The Canadians on landing in Normandy were given the job of sweeping up the coast of France East/North East to clear the channel ports, and they ended up liberating the Netherlands which was quite a feat given the watery nature of terrain. There is consequently quite a bond between Canada and the Netherlands and a sizeable group of Dutch have emigrated to Canada anyway. It was near this spot where the Canadians landed after the Normandy invasion that General De Gaulle set foot on French soil again. Also both the King and Winston Churchill alighted here after D Day.

Next stop Arromanche!  Up to now the coastline is pretty flat and uneventful, but as you leave Courseulle and head west the roads wind through more undulating territory, until, high above the town of Arromanche, and just before you enter it, you get to a terrific viewing point looking out over the cliffs and out to sea to what remains of the famous Mulberry Harbour. I counted 35 concrete blocks of different size out to sea arranged in a huge semi circle around the harbour. This harbour was called Winston Harbour as the then prime minister had a big say in the idea. Because the allies did not have a captured deep water port at the time they built this massive harbour, constructed in sections in the UK to act as an artificial deep water port for bringing in men, vehicles, supplies and munitions on a massive scale, using artificial roadways from the harbour to shore. A massive storm soon after D day destroyed the harbour at Omaha Beach for the Americans, but the Arromanche harbour survived the storm and played a huge role in the supply operation.

Today there is a car park here with a viewing platform to survey the harbour. There is also a section of the old artificial harbour roadway displayed, as well as a panoramic 360 degree D day 'experience' with associated shop. You can wander to the cliff edge and along the coastal path to admire the views as well, and there was a welcome mobile snack bar by the car park selling ice creams. Unsurprisingly it was a busy spot.






Down in the town a little further on there is a museum right on the sea front with items of military hardware displayed outside and around the seafront square which is also a car park. The beach is very fine, with bits of the old Mulberry harbour embedded in the nearshore as a reminder, the town being an attractive place for a sea side holiday in its own right. It was busy, obviously a popular tourist spot.

I mustn't forget Longue sur mer where the Germans had a set of massive guns arrayed in a line on a grassy stretch a little distance from the coastline and pointing out to sea. There four huge emplacements, each one having a long, meaty, bronze coloured barrel protruding from a huge protective shell behind which you can see the remains of the gun furniture. A large protective dome of concrete covers each emplacement, and it is possible to walk onto the top of them as I did. There is a car park there and also an old Russian cannon is displayed supposed to have been used by the Germans in WW2. The battery is located off the main route near a sleepy little French hamlet.



Pushing on a fair bit further west, eventually you get to Omaha, where  the Americans took severe punishment at D Day. By the time I got here it was around 9pm, too late for the American cemetery which is supposed to be a very worthwhile visit but closes at 6pm. I shall hopefully return another time. There is also a museum nearby. However you can easily get to the beach even at 9pm at night, and as dusk approached I was able to park up on the sea front and witness the memorial to Omaha where 2400 American casualties were suffered on D Day. Here the flags of the allies are lined up along the beach atop of their white poles, and a very modern memorial of silver steel shapes has been constructed on the beach front. Here you can walk along the promenade and ponder the terrible price that was paid on this lovely summer beach 70 years ago. Again the area is now devoted to tourism.



I took the dual carriageway home to Caen that evening, a journey which seemed to take quite a while indicating I had gone a fair way along the coast. In fact the next day when I returned the car I had done nearly 200km. It was a smooth drive back to Caen but unfortunately not being use to the French road signs I took the wrong turn as I left the motorway and had to do a big circuit to come back into Caen. Never mind! My sense of direction worked fairly well.

Next day I return to England so mustn't strike out too far. I decide to see the eastern beach i.e. Sword beach and do a museum, in this case the German bunker at Oustreheim (Le Grand Bunker Musee du Mur de L'Atlantique, entry 7.50 euro) looks a good bet, having been a rather obstreperous barrier to the British advance for a while and promising to be an interesting collection of artefacts. So off I went to Oustreheim, then up the coast to check the memorials at Hermanville sur mere, bang in the middle of Sword beach, which was the responsibility of British forces. It was a baking hot day, one to slap on the sun tan lotion, the beach was filling up but I had to

 keep up with the schedule.



The British and commonwealth military cemetery is here in this little resort. Just off the main road along the coast as you head west, you take a left turn and head a little way inland to a lovely village centre with an old church on the right. I had to ask the way as I took one or two wrong turns and ended up in residential cul de sacs! Anyway once you get to the village centre you take a left to get to the cemetery which lies in a peaceful and well tended plot away from the settlement. It has about 1000 graves and it is well worth spending time walking past the gravestones and reading the messages. Extremely worthwhile to ponder the sacrifice of so many in such a lovely spot. Also in the village and on the main road is a well which was used to refresh the invasion forces.

Headed in to Ousterheim a bit later and spent about an hour at the Atlantic bunker museum (Le Grande Bunker du Mur de L'Atlantique, entry 7.50 euro). This was a real German stronghold on D day, a centre of communications for the Germans hidden amongst the surrounding residential property. There is so much to see here, with various items of military hardware outside and a treasure trove of World War Two artefacts inside. To be honest, you need more than and hour to do it justice. Some of the original machinery, fittings and signage is still here, and there are some tremendous life size models of how it used to look, such as the bunk room, communications centres, armaments store and surgical areas. You see how amazingly well equipped such an important bunker was with medical supplies, etc. The bigger bunkers had the  capacity to carry out surgical operations. There are several floors, and you gradually make your way to the top where a range finder room has large slits looking out over the harbour, beach, estuary and present ferry terminal.

Just about got the car back to Caen in time and rushed for the bus which leaves from outside the front of the station. But there was plenty of time at the ferry terminal for a sandwich and a beer before embarking for Blighty. Being a superb afternoon it was eminently sensible to sunbathe on the upper deck as we admired the receding French coast with its fine sandy beaches. Entertainment was provided on the ferry with live televising of the Andy Murray/Rodger Federer tennis semi final although the result was disappointing unless you are one of the 'Feds' who believe that Roger is the perfect God given tennis player who epitomises the beautiful game.

Portsmouth is an impressive entrance to the UK, and going out or coming back a great photo opportunity with the Isle of White and the indented Solent harbour with great views of the Portsmouth waterfront, the naval dockyards and what's left of Britain's Royal Navy. All part of the holiday!

Amsterdam!

Amsterdam!

Amsterdam in late June feels like one of the top ten visits in the world, especially when you are trying to get into Anne Frank Huis which has an abominably long queue from early in the morning to late in the evening. My advice is book a ticket online and then you just breeze straight in like the queen of the Netherlands while the rest of the plebs are waiting for hours, no fun in the current 30 degree temperatures. If you absolutely have to wait in the queue then write that novel you always wanted to, or start a business, or take a mobile picnic. It's that bad! Don't let the 'museum god' steal your valuable time. In the end after sailing past by bike or on foot and seeing such an interminable line I gave up, it takes too much precious time out of four days. Far better to spend you time walking up and down Prinsengracht, posing in the shades, and enjoying the canal views between stopping at some bar or cafe for a cool drink.

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Amsterdam is what you expect in beauty but certainly to me much bigger in scale than I thought. I think I was expecting more of a cosy intimate canal filled quadrant with tram-packed squares and lots of bikes hurtling around. You get this but on a much bigger and more majestic level. This hits you when you get to the Museumplein when arriving on the bus from Uthoorn as I did. You are suddenly confronted with this vast recreational space surrounded by splendid architecture, but particularly the huge, decorative and monumental Rijsmuseum towering at the North East corner. Beyond this you enter the old city centrum with concentric rings of canals radiating further and further out from the central station, each canal crowned with innumerable bridges and lined with trees and spotlessly clean old apartment buildings.

You could be forgiven just going to Amsterdam to see the Central Station as it is an impressive piece of architecture in its own right, with a long clean frontage looking out onto a large plaza and then the canals beyond. It is reminiscent of Venice where you arrive at the main station and almost fall into the first canal. You can leave your baggage at the station for the day, 7 euro for a smaller bag which I had, and also buy tram, bus and train tickets at the machines. The locals use a card onto which they load credit for buses and trams. The lady I stayed with lent me her card for three days which cuts the costs compared with individual bus tickets for each journey. You can also catch a train from Central Station to the airport for seven euro, a quick fifteen minute journey to catch your flight home. Incidentally, Schipol is a useful hub airport and it may be worth considering as a stopover for longer flights as you might get a cheaper deal than flying direct from the UK.

 Central station

As you leave the main rail station just to the left in front of you is a cafe/restaurant with adjoining comprehensive and well staffed tourist office. Here there is lots of information and leaflets/guides to take away. The Amsterdam card is well advertised, a one (€49), two (€59) or three (€69) day pass for public transport with free entrance to many museums and discounts on other attractions and food and drink. It does not include the Anne Frank Huis but this is not particularly expensive at about nine euro.

On the first day, a Sunday for me, I proceeded from the main rail station down the main drag, Damrak, in a south westerly direction, admiring the Beur van Berlage, an impressive and huge classical building built as a commodity exchange. It's not long before you get to Dam, a large square and the hub of the old city where lots of people congregate to chill and a temporary beach volleyball arena has been set up. Unfortunately you had to pay to get in and it was sold out for the day, you got no more than a glimpse of the players through the odd chink in the stands.

I made the regular trip Uthoorn into Amsterdam by bus which took about 50 minutes. This is fine on a four day trip as I was doing but if you are rushed you might need to stay nearer the centre. For me I was way out to the south west in the environs of Amsterdam but I could walk to the local shopping centre, have breakfast at a cafe and then leap on the bus. The buses have a good wifi connection as well. It's a straightforward run in, first through peaceful fairly modern residential areas interspersed with stretches of farmland, then you get into the real edges of the main city. Here you stumble onto large modern industrial buildings/offices, then you hit the Olympic stadium on the left hand side. After this the urban scenery becomes a lot more interesting with shaded avenues of city apartments until you get to the museumplein and then you know you've hit the centre.

The architecture in central Amsterdam is of course pricelessly ancient and attractive, but made curiously up to date by the obvious level of maintenance and cleanliness, amplified by the tiny bricks they use in Holland which seem to be everywhere, from the Olympic stadium built in 1928 to the medieval centre. It does not seem to matter that the chaps who built those older canal side houses must have been on the beer and forgotten to use the plumbline, as so many walls seem to ascend askew as if straight out of a Hansel and Gretal fairy tale. Lots of tall narrow looking houses gabled or otherwise, flower boxes bursting out of their midriffs, and all different in style from their neighbour. All adds to the charm!



You could wander happily around the central areas of Amsterdam for days and still find a new canal or riverside walk, such is the length and choice of waterway to discover. Of course the option of a drug fuelled bender is always there, I innocently walked into a cafe for a cup of coffee and was slightly taken aback by the dodgy substance menu. They must have thought I was another mad Englishman when I didn't go for a peace pipe or reefer!

Rent a bike is the way to go, such a cliche but Holland in my experience is the land of bikes. I rented a bike from Amstel Bike for 26 euro for 48 hours and they did not mind me locking it up in the city overnight while I retired to my accommodation in the suburbs. A group of five gets one bike rental free. I have never seen so many bikes in my life whether chained to railings or flying along the comprehensive network of dedicated bike lanes which cover every square of the city. Then there is the variety, from every type of standard metal steed to tandems, ones with boxes big or small to put all manner of stuff in including small children, and two wheeled low slung affairs where the person almost sits on the ground with his legs thrown out before him. Something you don't see in England is two people on a one man bike with partners sitting on the back, and in one case a young beauty being pedalled along by an ageing relative! Now that's what I call equality!





There are white cycling signs with red writing everywhere giving directions to your destination, although sometimes the destination seems to 'disappear' for a while which happened to me cycling back into Amsterdam from the south east, and I found myself in a predominantly black area in the Amsterdam suburbs sailing through Nelson Mandela park (you get the vibe) with the only signs to Amsterdam port. Where was the sign to Amsterdam city? Eventually I hit the trail again.

On the second day I took a trip by bike out to the south east of Amsterdam to canal and windmill land. This is a welcome change from the city and great exercise as well. Starting from the centre take the route out towards Muiden following the white and red signs. You have to take a right turn off the main route later in the vicinity of Weesp, and this may necessitate taking a detailed cycling map, so make sure you pick one up from the shop when you start, although they didn't provide one for me. Despite not having a detailed map I did have a leaflet from the tourist office with a basic map, and managed to strike south off the main road to hit the rural heartlands.

Lunchtime idyll!

I knew I had passed from city business to rural bliss when I discovered a small hamlet on a canal where I found a waterside cafe/bar with a blazing sun overhead. Here I asked for a small beer and the waitress produced literally the smallest beer glass I have ever been offered. I like that Dutch sense of humour. The waitress suggested I order the kroket, a Dutch dish consisting of potato croquettes filled with pieces of meat, accompanied by bread and garnished with salad. Pretty delicious. When I enquired as to my route, the waitress sent over a mature gentleman who advised me to catch the little ferry just a few yards down the road to enter proper countryside. Far better than keeping to the main road. He should know. He told me he was brought up here and cycled miles from where he lived to places like Utrecht for school, and I do mean miles. Imagine that in the winter with the wind against you on these washboard flat wetlands. He was so helpful I offered him a drink, but he already had a glass of wine and a schedule.

So over I went with a little posse of cyclists and struck out for Loenen an de Vecht on this wonderful made for cyclist countryside, tracking the canals, passing the lazing cattle, and admiring the old mansions of the wealthy who built their bolt holes out of town on the canal side. In the brochure its described as the Historical River Estates area. It's almost as if God said to himself, I know, I'll make Holland really flat and then a particular way the Dutch will enjoy my creation will be to invent these two wheel thingies and cycle all over.



Eventually I ended up in Breukelen, well on the way to Utrecht but a quaint little riverside town, to enjoy a coffee and apple pie and cream. What other reward after all that pedalling? I left it a little late to begin my return. It took a couple of hours to return to the city, which meant a hurried McDonald's before getting the bus back. I missed one bus because the driver would not allow me to take food on board. Take note!

Rich house!

Do take care on your bike. In Amsterdam you need constant alertness due to huge numbers of bikes and mopeds as well as cars and vans crossing your path continually, as well as getting used to the system of bike lanes. Keep an eye on the traffic lights for bikes with a picture of the bike illuminated in red. I cut a corner in

returning to Amsterdam and gave the wheel a real jolt, very amiss of me as I had to pay an extra ten euro for wheel repair on returning the bike. I still only paid about £30 for two days, not a bad rate.

The third day I ventured to Haarlem just 12 miles west of Amsterdam towards the sea. This took me about an hour and 10 minutes, an easy run as it tracks the main motorway and rail straight as an arrow. Haarlem is well worth a visit as it is like a mini Amsterdam with a lovely old town surrounded by the usual canals and centred on a super main square, dominated by a large cathedral church. It was a bit of a relief actually to get out of Amsterdam simply because there's far
less people per square metre in Haarlem and thus less to bump into.

But what I really came to see in Haarlem was the Corrie Ten Boom Huis and museum in the town centre. CorrieTen Boom was a survivor of the nazi concentration camp at Ravensbruck. Her family were clockmakers whose shop adjoined the house opened out onto a main street off the town square. 100 years previously the Ten Boom family committed themselves as Christians to praying for the Jewish people. They were fully involved in the local community, running clubs and societies, being hospitable and generally helping people. During the German occupation of Holland they resolved to help the Jewish people by hiding them from the Nazis and aiding them to travel on to safe houses. They had a 'hiding place' built in Corrie's bedroom by building a second inner wall of brick to conceal a space for people to hide from the authorities. They smuggled the bricks in by putting them in grandfather clocks coming in and out of the building. Can you believe it? Eventually they were betrayed and captured by the nazis, although the six people who were in the hiding place at the time all managed to get away. The guide said no records were kept of how many Jews passed through to safe houses, but it could have been up to the hundreds.

False wall

Corrie Ten Boom Huis

Haarlem centre

The tour of the house takes an hour with time for questions as well. The house itself looks remarkably modern and like other Dutch buildings must be a lot older than it looks. There are various books, mementoes and CDs/videos that can be bought. It's a free visit but donations are welcome and it seems that one should give at least euro 2.50. I arrived on a baking hot day at 1pm at the end of June, and there was a bit of a crowd waiting to get in, so I had to wait for the next tour at 3pm. Might be worth bearing in mind. But nothing like the Anne Frank queue and a tremendously worthwhile visit.

I did pop into the tourist office in Haarlem and was told that you can get the train quite easily to the beach at Zandvoort, the you can go back the other way to Amsterdam. It's only ten minutes from Haarlem or thirty minutes from Amsterdam!

In the evening I found a great Thai restaurant for a delicious spicy feast to offset the McDonald's experience of the previous night. It's not far down Haarlemerrstraat, just a few hundred yards from the rail station on the right hand side as you're heading west. Actually there are good few eateries to choose from on this street. If I return to Amsterdam I will go back here.

On the last day I said goodbye to my host, packed my bag and headed into the city. I left my gear at baggage in the main rail station, returned my bike and headed for the Rijsmuseum, that monster on the edge of the city centre that is a top ten attraction for Amsterdam. A ticket is €17.50, quite expensive, but you can wander to your hearts content until 5pm. You can also leave the building if you want and return later, a timely idea for me as there was some sort of carnival going on outside with outdoor swimming, kids activities, lots of food and drink stalls and suchlike. And there is a great app you can download straight onto your iPad where you just plug in your earphones and let the audio guide take you round. If you don't like reading millions of words that you'll forget in half an hour it's the way to go. Well worth it although avoid the restaurant as its a lethal tourist trap. Admittedly a very nice setting on a suspended floor in the very impressive museum atrium, but the prices will blow a hole in your bank account. I walked out, went outside and and bought a hot dog. Shame as I had to queue up to be ushered to a seat by an attractive young Dutch waitress.

The paintings are something else. I am not one for art galleries, but the Rembrandts and Vermeers are so colourful and rich, and some of them very big, that together with the apps explanations, become almost interesting to art philistines. This is where the app really comes into its own, as the audio guide tells you about the little symbolisms and parables buried in the artwork. Pictures such as the famous 'Nightwatch' by Rembrandt are full of local officials and dignitaries all crammed together in the same picture, but each one would have posed separately for their portrait, which is why the faces don't engage one another in some of the pictures. There is the famous 'Milkmaid' painting, of a serving maid pouring milk into a jug. Much is made of the beauty of this painting in the app, including the reality of the 'pouring milk.'

Riksmuseum snaps

There are lots of galleries of rich, clear and literal painting, large and small, many of an historical nature. I spent some time perusing the paintings of battles involving the Dutch fleet, some against the English of course, when Holland was a world power to be reckoned with. Incredible that these two tiny countries had such an influence on world history. There is a quite magnificent galleon in one of the galleries, of huge size and with incredible detail. Ideally the Riksmuseum needs a day, although I spent a comfortable afternoon there.

Schipol airport tip - make sure you pack carefully before you get to the airport. Unlike Gatwick for instance, and maybe other UK airports they do not provide an 'interface' area where you can pack your liquids into plastic bags. You go into departure and straight into the security line so need to have all your liquids prepackaged as it were. I was caught out and had to do all this on the spot at the conveyor belt, a bit of a pain.

Schipol it's very conveniently situated to the west of the city and pretty close to the city centre. Must have been easy to plan as in Holland presumably you can build an airport virtually anywhere as long as you guard against waterlogged foundations.

Regents canal

Cool dwelling

Regents canal, London

For something completely different take a canal walk through the centre of London. The Regents Canal runs for over nine miles from Paddington Basin in the west to Limehouse Basin in the east. We met up at Paddington station, one of the main London rail termini where you catch the train to the west country. It's a good place to load up with supplies as it has all the services needed including Marks and Spencer's and a Sainsburys to stock up on food.



If you take the right hand exit from the station as you face the platforms there is a bridge that takes you into the Paddington Basin, a shiny modern complex of offices and services bordering our start to the Regents Canal, and a bit of a sideshow at the beginning. We had a very informative guide who told us about two very modern small bridges in the vicinity, both of which straddle short stretches of canal. They are just as much for decorative purposes as they are to carry pedestrians, because one bridge rolls up into a hexagonal shape from a flat start when the right buttons are pressed, whilst the other splays up sections which fan out to give a Mohican effect. We were privileged enough to be given a personal demonstration by the very friendly staff. Officially demonstrations were given on a Friday but they did it for us on a Saturday. This part of the canal is all modern in its ambience, steel and glass constructions on the quay pointing to the sky, with one building designed to look like the bow of a ship.

Little Venice

The next section takes you the other way from Paddington towards Little Venice, and you can see why it is called this. It's a bit like some of the poshest property in London mixed in with the romance of a mature waterway. Here the property must be some of the most desirable in London because you have your palatial mansions blending in perfectly with barge laden waters. This is a bit of London I had never set eyes on and reminds you of the amazing variety London has to offer.

This sort of water based opulence continues all the way to Regent's Park, with beautiful architecture catching the eye all the way along, and the odd cafe suspended on a bridge over the canal. I have to say that if I was looking to live in London this area would be on my list. Years ago this canal would have been strictly for industrial purposes, transporting all manner of merchandise up and down the capital's arteries. Now of course it is a testimony to Britain's rich  industrial heritage, but given over primarily to leisure.

Regent's Park continues the theme, with attractive buildings rather more spaced out at this point. We took a diversion up to the top of Primrose Hill for lunch where many others had the same idea, eminently sensible as we sat and admired the view in front of us of the London Basin with the Shard, the Post Office Tower and the Gherkin all prominent on the skyline.

The canal is a great place to cycle along as well, and plenty of cyclists were trying to negotiate the Saturday afternoon strollers on the towpath. Basically however, Saturday is not a good day for cyclists to chance this journey due to the extreme preponderance of pedestrians.

A little further on and you get to Camden Lock which is like someone scooped up all the young people in London and tipped them into this tiny corner of the capital, another 'where it's at' kind of place. Spot the hipster anyone? We breezed through fairly quickly when everything cried out 'sit down and enjoy some refreshments.' You make your way along the shore past bundles of people consuming food and drink on an industrial scale. The lock is surrounded by a market, sheds, parked barges and overall an atmosphere of having a good time. Somewhere to return to without a doubt.

Camden Lock  Rocks!

The ambience changes when you get towards the St Pancras/Kings Cross stretch where the skyline become decidedly more commercial and industrial, old gasworks, railway architecture, workshops and desolate waste spaces. Here we are near one of the hubs of the European rail transport system, in the near distance you can see the roof of the new St Pancras, rising over the skyline like a silver hump backed dolphin. Eurostar trains with limitless numbers of carriages slide in and out of the terminus over the bridge above us, and a little further on we reach Kings Cross. This area always had a slightly sleazy reputation as a red light district and arrival point for kids running away from home, with all the attendant charities and church workers trying to minister to the jetsam and flotsam of human life. Now there is a major effort to renew the whole area with shiny new squares and glass and steel high rises. The old Kings Cross goods shed is being turned into a Waitrose plus ancillary activities, the Granary building, an old industrial warehouse turned into university building presides over London's newest square with chIldren bathing in the waters of the fountains and new cafes springing up like flowers in the desert. In the midst of modernity is the abandoned underground station of York Rd with its classic old station frontage, and there has been talk of reopening it to relieve congestion at Kings Cross especially with the new development. Specially built viewing platforms provide the opportunity to check out the new development.

New King's Cross

Swimming pool as well!

Going on from Kings Cross you get the same lazy ambience all the way to Limehouse Basin where you are in Canary Wharf territory. However, it's a fair hike still from the rail hub. The section of canal this side of the city lacks some of the glamour associated with little Venice or Camden Lock but people still sit beside the water eating and drinking at various bars, or sit on the top of barges with a beer can or glass of
wine.

The canal passes through Islington where it disappears into a canal tunnel. This is where I lost it like a dog slipping its lead. Thus I had the opportunity to wander throughout the centre of Islington, a new experience for me and a chance to adjust any stereotypes of the political elite indulging in endless dinner parties in leafy Georgian terraces. Perhaps the demise of New Labour has done for some of those parties. There were certainly traces of wealth, with fine looking streets of old terraced houses, but Islington town centre does not seem anything out of the ordinary, just a typical well established suburban centre the type of which you would find all over London.

Meanwhile I am totally lost, where has this wretched canal gone, can't find it anywhere? Has it disappeared into some CS Lewis fantasy land full of pipe smoking jolly barge men in waistcoats and eternal sun playing on dappled waters ruled over by an Aslan like creature full of benevolence and goodwill? I follow the instructions of my iPad and it leads me this way and that, until finally I manage to rediscover this watery artery after a considerable detour. During that detour I find a massive spur coming off the main route, surrounded by prestigious new development. Back on track, I follow the towpath onwards past worn old industrial architecture and new builds, under ancient bridges and through old locks, dodging the usual bevy of cyclists. The canal runs past Victoria Park (Vicky Park or the People's Park) for some way, which adds a somewhat leafy feel again, although we are in the London borough of Tower Hamlets. This park is considered by some as the finest park in the East End, for that is where we are. Originally this park was an essential service for the East End working classes. In the past it has also been the centre for all sorts of political meetings and rallies, attracting socialist speakers like William Morris. It must be some park, as it was awarded second place in a national award for the public's favourite Green Flag Awarded park.

Victoria Park

Furrowing on, the glass, steel and concrete of Canary Wharf increasingly loom ahead indicating we will soon be at the end. So we arrive at Limehouse Basin,  once at the heart of London's industrial port superstructure but now looking more like a marina dedicated to boating pleasures. Here you can catch the Docklands Light Railway (DLR) back into town and the Bank underground station.

End of the voyage - Limehouse Basin

The DLR s a lot more interesting than the underground as it is overground and gives some good vistas of the East London skyline. Just a little tip at this point. When you get off at Bank underground station there is an endless network of tunnels linking different lines, and also the toilets were shut on a Sunday evening which was slightly uncomfortable since I spent an appreciable time discovering the delights of the tunnel network only to find them closed. Funnily enough, in a 2013 poll Londoners rated Bank tube station, one of London's busiest, as the worst on the network!

Still, we must not finish on a negative. A nine mile watery walk through the centre of London laced with copious amounts of food and drink is a totally cool way to spend a day.

Now that's some back garden! (Cliveden parterre)

Cliveden

Cliveden House is located in a gilded stretch of countryside in Buckinghamshire, about half an hour from Windsor and north of the M4. It has a past laced with glamour, intrigue and famous people from Winston Churchill to Rudyard Kipling, so that should be enough to lure you in from the leafy surrounding lanes. 

I was fortunate enough to visit on a beautiful June day when a gorgeous slice of the Home Counties looks its peerless best. This area is plump like a well stocked salmon fishery with tokens of opulence like open top sports cars, green and brown astro turfed tennis courts, and glimpses of irresistible property. So, unless you are driving a white Jaguar and are dressed in red corduroys and sporting a big quiff just don't bother to come!    

Driving into the grounds through the main entrance with its cannon ball stones to either side you feel like an aristocrat entering their lair, but then you realise that there are a thousand other cars like yours doing exactly the same thing. I'm just another peasant! The driveway winds through extensive grounds and there was some sort of checkpoint where cars were both parked and were stopping. Some cars were carrying on and I decided to follow. The NT official at the hut waved me on (obviously knew I was aristocratic stock) and I carried on up to the main car park adjacent to where it all happens. 

Cliveden is a big site, one of the biggest I have visited, with cafes and toilet facilities scattered over a large area between gardens and house, so if you miss one refreshment stop, there's another not too far away. Where you park up it's a short walk to the outbuildings and an information kiosk where you get your map and ask if you can go on a tour of the big house, which you can do on a timed basis.  Mine was for 4pm. Meanwhile around here are gardens and a cafe to keep you occupied. Also in this area is a cinema, Gas Yard, maze and Estate Office.

Go through the gate and you find yourself not far from the Fountain of Love at the end of the main driveway to Cliveden House. Again, unless you are driving a Jag or a Bentley, with a lady in a light head scarf and shades alongside you, up the straight gravelled drive to the main house you are not doing it properly. You feel naked standing on your two pins in a pair of jeans wallowing in all this opulence. The word 'grand' comes to mind when you espy the house in the distance. The fountain is just too big and decorative, the driveway too long and wide, the house too much of a magnificent pile in the middle distance to be called anything other than.

The Fountain of Love - spot the Lamborghini!

Only to be approached in an Aston Martin!

You couldn't make it up, but as I was standing there taking photos a white Lamborghini eased down the drive and stopped by the fountain to show off or whatever. The two doors opened gull like  upwards and outwards like a Thunderbirds super car and out stepped a tall and striking man of the world dressed like somebody important with attendant big hair and sunglasses. From the other side stepped, no, not a raging beauty of the Sophia Loren sort, but a short man who could be the head gardener. But of course he could be one of the world's richest men just dressing down for the day. Or could perhaps these two be checking out the locale for the next Bilderberger conference? Who knows? 

I couldn't be bothered to quiz them or hang around for a photo op so headed towards the nearest garden off to the right to check the hinterland and move towards the Thames which is deliciously near. Up through the Long Garden with its topiary and sculpture puts you in 'wandering aimlessly' mode, and then you reach the Blenheim Pavilion built to commemorate the battle of Blenheim, a smallish white colonnaded structure, which sits just outside the Long Garden high above the Thames and sort of provides the main introduction to the less perfectly gardened outlying grounds.  

Have you seen my Long Garden?

From here the grounds fall away steeply and extensively towards the Thames. Not far away is a grass amphitheatre on the slopes surrounded by vegetation, apparently a spot where the great and the good entertained themselves with various performances, including the first rendering of Rule Brittania when the estate was leased to Frederick, Prince of Wales. This area is all rich woodland falling down to the Thames which is tantalisingly invisible due to the foliage apart from glimpses of the water. If you follow the path parallel to the Thames far below you get to a felled oak (Canning's oak), a plum spot where Lord Canning, Britain's shortest serving prime minister (119 days in 1827), would sit here for ages and contemplate the view. He often visited as a friend of Sir George Warrender. And it is some view, down to the Thames glittering below and running alongside the wooded slopes, then on the other side, a scrumpled duvet of green countryside stretching away into the distance. A great place to contemplate the affairs of State, and this spot, now so accessible from London, would have been an age from the capital in those days. Just over the Thames is the village of Cookham, reported by the Daily Telegraph in 2011 as the 2nd richest village in Britain. Well who cares! But you get the vibe.

Cliveden view

You can make your way back up the slopes to the house at this point, which I did for the tour. In the apron out front of the house is the usual assortment of cars no doubt for house guests, as this is now a top hotel. Here you can spot a massive Bentley lined up with an attention seeking number plate to go with it. 

It's only a short tour round part of the ground floor, but worthwhile nevertheless. We get a potted history of the place including the era when the American Astor family used it for lavish entertainment in the pre war years. Cliveden is known of course for the 'Cliveden Set,' a group of prominent upper class individuals who frequented the estate in the thirties, and for the Profumo affair which brought down the Macmillan government of the early 1960s. No doubt there have been some exaggerations around these topics, but you can't help thinking that there would be no better place than Cliveden for intrigue, bohemian behaviour, spy stories and illicit goings on. We were informed about the usual such as the paintings, key characters in Cliveden history and the various setbacks that have afflicted the estate, including not one but two fires finishing off a previous house. The present house was designed by Charles Barry, who incidentally was the architect of that small London building, the Houses of Parliament, as well as St. Peter's church in Brighton.

Cliveden terrace

Pity about the scaffolding

Cliveden is definitely up there with the grand houses of the UK with its large size and extensive grounds, but what gives it a bit of an edge in the competition stakes is what's on the other side of the long drive up to the entrance. Blenheim Palace might be the daddy of all UK stately homes, and Knole might have a great deer park, but Cliveden can shake her apron skirts and unfold her crown and joy, the peerless parterre rolling out of the back of the property. A parterre is a formal garden constructed on a level surface if you want to know, and the one at Cliveden is one of the largest in Britain and covers an area of four acres, filled with 30,000 bulbs and plants in the spring and summer. It really hits the eye as you peruse it from the grand terrace at the back of the house. Not only huge and beautiful, it's the setting with grand open vistas of countryside and the Thames twinkling down below in the distance that really hits you. Quite magnificent! If anything typifies Cliveden it's this view, it cannot be missed.

What do you think of my parterre?

Take a stroll around the parterre to discover one or two more delights. There is the chapel to the right hand side, a little construction suspended above the Thames with accompanying balcony for photos. Sadly I was too late to step inside, all locked up! Normally entry is free and no tickets are required.

Make your way around the outside of the parterre and take a few more snaps of the great house and it's terrace, and you can take a break at the Orangery cafe just to the north east of the main house. This has two cafes in one, a smaller snack bar and a bigger sit down affair. By the time you have downed your toffee and fudge cake it may be time to vacate the premises for a half five close.

THE SOUTH DOWNS NATIONAL PARK

South Downs national park - Arundel

Pick a gorgeous early summer day and take yourself off to Arundel to explore the verdant green rolling downs surrounding the town. Arundel itself is a great place to wander around if you just want to gorge on cream teas, antique shops, a trip around the second biggest castle in England and perhaps round off the day at an Indian restaurant or a Pizza Express. Otherwise Arundel is tagged onto a massive park that blankets over the top of the Downs and has its very own folly, lake and network of public walkways. If you head into Arundel from the A27 from Brighton, over the bridge and immediately turn right, you head down a tree-lined gladed avenue until you reach Swanbourne lake on the left. This is like a leftover from the Victorian age with its ancient cafe building and duck filled lake. You can take the safe option, sit on the benches and have a picnic, otherwise you can explore a wonderful sweep of down and woodland that switchbacks right over to the northern scarp edge of the South Downs and yields wide open vistas of the Weald of Sussex to the north.

So how would you proceed? Take the path up the east side of Swanbourne lake into a comfy green valley with Box Copse on the right. An interesting aside here is that if you look up far to your left you see a brick folly peeping over the top of the hill from its green resting place. This my friends is Hiorne Tower, used as a location for a Dr Who film involving the cybermen. Alas, I spotted none myself! After this stretch bear right and up through Dukes plantation, Firm plantation and Dry Lodge plantation, all open downland towards the northern end of Arundel Park. With woodland to your right and left, the whole of West Sussex jumps into your face as you creep over the lip of the downs and the scarp slope drops away below you. Scrumptious ramblers feast!

Then you take the clear path down towards the River Arun, sometimes out in the open with tantalising photo opportunities of the Arun valley, sometimes hidden in the woods, until you hit the winding bends of the river. Then you trace its course until we reach the village of Houghton. There is not a lot of Houghton, it must literally be one of the teensiest weeniest little settlements in England easily scooped up in the hands of a giant. But here is the George and Dragon pub, supposedly a stop off point of Charles 1's son on his escape to France in 1651 after his defeat by Cromwell at the battle of Worcester. The Monarchs Way long distance footpath from Worcester to Shoreham-by-Sea is supposed to trace his footsteps.

Here you stumble onto the main road that drops down to Amberley just a few hundred metres further on. Be careful walking down here as there is a distinct absence of pedestrian walkway. Over the old stone bridge and you are there, a little piece of old England all on its tiddly own. Here there is the Bridge pub,a restaurant and a perfect cafe with indoor and outdoor seating, although outdoors wins my vote as the tables sit on the edge of the River Arun. With the ancient bridge, the bucolic meadows bordering the river meanders, and the South Downs rising up on the horizon, it's just like sitting in your own limitless back garden with your cream tea and scones.

Strike south from here towards the tiny village of North Stoke. All the villages are tiny round here! Take the side road from the Bridge pub alongside the rail line which heads towards Arundel. This peaceful,tree lined avenue heads straight ahead with water meadows stretching out towards the downs on the right. Soon the road winds up to the right into North Stoke which consists of barely more than a street of cottages hitting a dead end with a tiny church and farm. You can take a detour to check out the church, but otherwise clock the red telephone box, another bit of old England, and just to the left another path heads out towards South Stoke. You have to negotiate a field which is often inhabited by frisky cows that even if congregated far away in one corner start moving ominously towards you as you stride out across the field. Could make a man nervous, but if they get too close stare them down and make a bit of noise! Next stop the bridge built by the Gurkhas a few years ago across the pond/stream that borders the woodland, which then has to be negotiated by a winding path that takes us through to the river Arun at South Stoke.

Here you cross a bridge into the village and with the church and cottages on your left (all classic England around here) follow the lane round until you see a bridleway going off to the left. This takes you on a fairly long straight route through the fields rather than following the very narrow road along the side of the scarp slope. Eventually the path takes a climb up onto the lane later after a very easy walk on the flat. Take a left turn on the lane then immediately right down a cutting through the downs to the Black Rabbit pub. 

The Black Rabbit is the sort of pub you dream of visiting in a dream about the most idyllic English countryside pub visit possible. Snug up against the River Arun, the long low construction of this watering hole contains ample beer swilling room and tables for a tasty pub lunch. Outside across the road are multitudes of outdoor tables and benches crammed against the river bank where you can while away the hours contemplating the cow filled meadows across the river and admiring the gentle slopes of the Downs in the middle distance, whilst an occasional distant southern region train whips past on its way to Arundel and reminds you that we are in the twenty first century and cannot remain in 'smock wearing ale swilling peasant' mode. When you've had your fill of rural bliss a trundle down the country lane towards Arundel castle returns you to your car at Swanbourne lake. 

You really could not spend a day in any better way.