We leave the Leerdam Glass Museum and decide that since we didn’t want the hassle of cooking for ourselves this short break, that we had better find some lunch before we head back to the camp site for a rest.
We drove around aimlessly on purpose at first, taking smaller roads just to see where they went and after a short while we came out onto a big road where there was a sign advertising food.
The café/ restaurant is calle Villa Brazza, the building is impressive: a stunningly beautiful railway station in brick and whilst it’s clear that the space where the restaurant is now, is probably a reincarnation of the former waiting room and ticket offices, the building does still function as a train station so we sat by a window that looked out onto the platform and were conveniently lined up with the spot where the fiets (bicycle) carriage part of the train is located at the end of the train.
Two trains came and went whilst we ate and on both occasions the bicycle carriage was a hive of activity, first alighting passengers stream out with their bikes and then the passengers waiting to board stream in.
For the middle of the day I was amazed (and delighted) to see how busy it was, it’s such a Dutch tradition to cycle to a train station, take your bike on the train and then cycle onwards to your destination after you’ve arrived in the city you are travelling to.
There are many complaints about how congested the ever increasing car traffic is making Dutch Roads, but bicycles still outnumber the Dutch by about three to one and it’s nice to see so many people going about their business with their bikes.
We’ve arrived a little to early for lunch so the place is still empty and getting ready for customers, but this turns out fine for taking photos of the surroundings …
…(I try a few ‘arty’ photos with sunflowers, pumpkins and a square(!) watermelon …with mixed success) and taking our time choosing what we want.
The kids opt of guacamole and chips, I bag a taglietelle with baked salmon and creamy white wine sauce and Himself got a pasta dish that I forgot to write down the name for, but I do remember that it had mushrooms in it somewhere somehow.
Little Mr turned out to be in an incredibly unreasonable mood and drove us spare by constantly trying to stand up on the lovely velvet bench seats.
NOT something he’s ever allowed to do at home and he persisted with his efforts-with-attitude to the point that a member of staff had to come over and also join in the telling-off’s. (sigh, some days, he’s not one of mine, I swear).
It was sad that this efforts only made Himself and I resolve to remove him from the premises as soon as we could possibly manage so while the meal was very tasty we would have enjoyed it a whole lot more if we hadn’t eaten it so fast.
There were howls of indignant protest from Little Mr. about the lack of dessert but we are not rewarding his determined lack of listening and self control with treats and in the end the one I felt most sorry for was Kiwi Daughter who was excellently behaved, ate well and sadly missed out on dessert by default.
Whilst Himself paid the bill and managed to get a grumpy, uncooperative Little Mr. out the door, I whispered to Kiwi Daughter that we would make things up to her later, so when she suggested that a small, extra sum of cash could maybe be added to her pocket money in lieu of dessert treats and this was duly done.
I’d love to come back here and have a more restful meal (maybe when Little Mr. is old enough to have left home as that’s probably for how long this place will have bad memories of this visit).
We get everyone in the car and try and ignore/head off/mediate the beginnings of World War Three that Little Mr. appears determined to start with Kiwi Daughter, Himself and me.
Back at the camp site I need a rest, Himself says he will try and keep Little Mr. quiet and I say not to bother, I’m so tired I’ll sleep anyway.
The girls on the bike tour packed up and left on the next leg of their journey early this morning, since then a couple arrived with a big tent and set it up more or less in the same place the girls had been, but we passed them on the driveway leaving for town as we came in so I knew the kids had the entire camp site to themselves and assumed hopefully nothing would fix Little Mr.’s determined bloody-minded mood like a rare opportunity to let of steam with no noise control limits.
I was both right and wrong… he apparently made a lot of noise during the ensuing games of chasing, tag and hide and seek and I slept through it all for almost three hours anyway, but sadly Little Mr’s strange mood and itch for trouble hadn’t abated much even after that, after all.
He’s totally out of sorts… end of holiday blues? too much excitement over the adventure of camping? or just a little boy having a really big “off” day.
The mind of six year old children is hard enough to figure out at the best of time, so forget logic and common sense and just settle on a vague … ‘who knows?”.