The day started in what had quickly become the normal fashion with bacon butties at the camp site and a walk to the bus stop. A change of buses in Den Bosch and we arrived at Heusden.
Veterans of 8 years ago remembered this as a quaint historic
town, substantially restored within a circuit of typical star fortifications and canals.
The squire had phoned ahead to book us a guided tour so, after sampling the award- winning “wurstbrod” sausage rolls at a nearby café, we arrived at the town hall/museum to meet our guide “Jos”. He was initially sceptical of our request to stop at intervals for dancing as he was anxious that we should complete an entire circuit of the walls without extending his tight schedule.
Fortunately, he softened after a short dance display at the museum and ushered the squire inside to view the enormous model of the town. Here Jos explained the full length of the 1.5-hour tour but offered us a shorter walk with time for dance stops.
There was still some confusion about what to take with us so, after a circuit of the nearby church, Jos lead us into a pleasant café garden and suggested we danced there. However, we had left sticks, horse and (more importantly) the musician’s organ in the museum so had to return there to fetch it.
The centre of Heusden is actually quite compact so we soon found ourselves dancing in the main square before moving on to a final spot next to the harbour windmill. Drinkers in bars, passing tourists and local residents awakened from their Sunday slumbers (it was 1pm by this time!) all stopped to watch. Jos enlightened us with descriptions of various buildings and explained the workings of a post mill (yes – we do have them in England). He never quite threw himself into the spirit as the guide in Gouda had done but he was always friendly and stayed beyond his allotted time to watch the last dance.
Despite the narrowness of the streets, it seems to be a traditional pastime among the wealthy visitors and inhabitants to spend their Sundays squeezing enormous luxury SUVs through the town. On a smaller scale a couple of our own motor enthusiasts were captivated by an antique motorbike that turned out to be a self-built replica with a modern Honda engine.
We were especially fortunate to be accompanied by Andy’s daughter Sarah, son in law Alex, little daughter Sylvie and their friend Casper. They helped guide us through some indecision to a bar in the square that doubled as a pancake house. Those of us with a sweet tooth agonised over the vast choice and tucked heartily into various enormous fruit topped extravaganzas. These laid heavy on us as we formed up for another dance session outside before heading back to the bus.
The beer also laid heavy on a couple of men who were relieved to find a workmen’s portable toilet near the bus stop. Much jolly shaking and giggling ensued….
The traditional end to the day found us cycling through options for dinner before electing to go back to Keershuys restaurant in Den Bosch. Our allotted reservation allowed time to search out a small bar that turned out to be a cornucopia of interesting beers (yes – again!). A short dance display was followed by a second high octane beer, washed down politely (but with some difficulty) by a round of Heinekens bought by one of our appreciative audience members.
A resident of the next street persuaded us to do one quick dance for his party who were sat out opposite yet another bar. No reward was offered and the only drink we purchased was to replace one smashed over by an over eager horse. When is he not?!
The dinner was again excellent and everyone tried a dish that was different from their last selection. We timed our departure to allow for only a short wait for the bus back to Den Dungen and a sneaky ice cream for a few.
YATELEY MORRIS MEN 