This morning I only wanted to get away. Away from the anti climax camping site, away from the strange beach. I walk to the northern point of the island, along the beautiful dunes, from where I can take a boat to the next island, Vlieland. I half decided I am going to do that but it doesn’t feel right. It feels like running away. I take a rest in the villages’ community hall, far from the tourists hubble and bubble. Then I have my answer; I am going to stay and find a small farmers camping site on the western point. That feels good, restfull. For the temainder of the day (and some of the evening, the west is rather far walking) I walk through fields with fluffy clouds above. This is good.
I realise that there was too much forcefulness yesterday. My blisters told me to stop and rest. But I had to reach Texel. Why not stop and take a break? There is no obligation! And to ask a colleague to organize a place for me, where she has no idea of the (small) needs of a wanderer. I am doing it all to myself.
I have no doubt that that friendly Asian woman arrived in her own good time in Amsterdam yesterday. I only arrived today.