Ah, Scheveningen . . . the bracing tang of ozone and chips.



The beach was fairly deserted, and the rows and rows of bicycle racks were empty apart from a couple of mopeds. But it was great cycling along the prom and seeing gulls and waves again.

imageI can just about pronounce the name, but it still sounds like I’m clearing my throat.

I always feel rather clumsy cycling in Dutch towns, like an elephant in a bicycle ballet. The smooth flow of cyclists is disrupted by my wobbles and habit of stopping in front of, rather than gliding elegantly past, any obstacles.

A reminder on the prom that the seaside has not always been about holidays and pleasure beaches.

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