This morning, I stepped into the garden and was greeted by the promise of a new day. Between my kitchen, which you can see on the left, and the neighbor's house on the right, I enjoyed a breathtaking composition in the sky of orange hues. In the following hours, I would witness a slow but permanent change in this sunrise painting the sky while driving to Rotterdam, where I would take the fast train to Paris.
While much of my route mirrored the story I shared yesterday, today's path led northward, away from my island's solitude and towards the bustling western expanse of the Netherlands. The initial landmark on this voyage was the Brouwersdam, a structure born in the same year as me, 1965; it links the islands of Schouwen and Goeree. I have stopped at the dam before to capture the sunrise and again couldn't resist pausing to catch the sun's golden glow over the mussel farms.
Having left early, I traveled stress-free. So I took my time to follow the slow movements of a solitary ship toiling among the mussels, gathering this local delicacy I enjoyed many years ago in pre-vegetarian days. Just behind me, an occasional car races by, but ahead of me is the peace and solitude of this water arm between the islands that used to have a direct connection to the sea until that situation was no longer considered safe after the devastating flood of 1953.
The sun continued ascent as I took a moment to fully enjoy my first sip of coffee at a small roadside café named Voyage Food. With gratitude to the coffee supporters who fuel my adventures, I gazed upon mist-kissed fields, a silent testament to the serene beauty of the Dutch countryside.
I arrived in Rotterdam, a city reshaped by the ravages of World War II and that has lost much of its traditional Dutch charm. Yet, in its transformation, it had birthed a vibrant modern metropolis adorned with architectural marvels. The reflection of an apartment block in a tranquil pond offered an early glimpse of this bold spirit. It might appear commonplace now, but in the 1950s, the concept of high-rise buildings surrounding a green courtyard, where children could play without the looming threat of passing cars, was revolutionary. Here, it stood, a testament to innovation, while a curious wasp danced among the water lilies.
My next stop was Rotterdam station, where a colossal statue of the casual onlooker observed the bustling comings and goings of the city. Soon after, I embarked on the Thalys, the swift train that whisked me away from Rotterdam.
As I write this, I'm just leaving Brussels, knowing that Paris lies just around the bend. This train journey, traversing three countries, is a mere two-and-a-half hours. Oh, how I love the marvels of modern train travel.
You must, definitely, write a book. For all reasons.
“The purpose of a storyteller is not to tell you how to think, but to give you questions to think about.”
— Brandon Sanderson
What a lovely morning made for a special day!
It seems nature favored you as you made your way from first light with exceptional beauty at each juncture. May it continue throughout your journey and inspire more delightful expressions of glorious prose and a collection of memories to treasure.