I wonder if the legend is true of the boy who saved the Netherlands by sticking his finger in a leaky dyke.
True or not, this country certainly has a lot of dykes, and for 85 miles today, including along the extraordinary 20-mile long Afsluitdijk across the mouth of the former Zuijderzee, I was solidly in their shadow.
At times it felt like a school art class, teaching how perspectives can be drawn with straight lines converging at one point on the page representing infinity.
I'm switching tack with pictures for these last two weeks of the ride, taking and posting fewer but in better quality.
Above single photo is therefore of one formerly small boy, Digit At The Ready, remembering how in childhod that dyke story seemed a burden of terrible power and responsibility. It's up to me to save the world. Except of course that it isn't.
Tonight's camp site, by the way, is rubbish. And I discover that virtually every restaurant and bar in NL, at least all the ones I've seen today, shut on a Monday.
So, without my usual evening beer and a charging point for my mobile, let this be a refreshingly short blog…
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