Biking to the Corner of Holland, thinking about my Grandma

After the exceptionally bad weather of the last couple of days with storm and rain pouring in buckets non-stop for more than 24 hours, today's crisp sunny weather was a welcome relief! Because I did some overwork earlier this week, I took the afternoon off and set out on a training bike ride. Due to the pretty hard western wind, I first biked against the wind westwards to Wassenaar and then south-west along the coast to the Hoek van Holland.

Biking in the dunes is sublime. It's good to smell the sea air, the flowers now in full blossom, the occasional pine trees that smell of home and my childhood summers in the woods of White Russia. From the dunes of Meijendel one suddenly emerges into the urban world of Scheveningen with its numerous cafes, hotels, casinos and busy traffic. But quickly, the city is left behind and is replaced by the dunes of Kijkduin. From there, there is a long beautiful ride through the wide, green dunes of Westland, then past the many green-houses to the Hoek van Holland, literally translated as the Corner of Holland. It is indeed an almost right angle formed by the coast and by one of the major arms of the river Maas, which serves as entry to the port of Rotterdam, the largest port in Europe.

I stop to admire the huge cargo ships entering and leaving the port. The waves are pretty big and there are some surfers around waiting for a perfect wave. I start biking back along the same route. It is nice to bike with the wind! I feel like going for a swim, but most of the beaches are too busy for my taste. I finally stop at the beach of Meijendel. There are no people around and I plunge into the sea naked. The water is pretty cold, but I feel invigorated, with every cell of my body alert and alive with wind and waves.

Last 16 km through Wassenaar, Voorschoten, and along the Vliet canal are not so hard. It's 82 km in less than 3.5 hours, not too bad!

Today is my late Grandma Sonja's birthday. It's good to remember her. She would have turned 97, but she died 5 years ago. I was always a bit afraid of her, to tell the truth. I probably thought she was too strict, or actually too distant. I always said "Вы" to her, never "ты" (respectful "you" instead of casual "you").  But at the same time, I liked to visit her, liked her dinners and her compotes. Of course, I came also to visit my Aunt Natasha and my dear cousin Zhenya, who lived together with grandma. Rest in peace, dear grandma.