Playing tourist...

Yesterday my sister called me up and said she wanted to play tourist and asked if I wanted to come along, which I certainly did. I am always in for a bit of adventure. She picked me up and did not say where we were going, but it turned out to be the sculpture garden in the countryside not too fare from here. It is actually a project to further the cause of artists from Zimbabwe who make the sculptures, and they were very impressively spread out amongst the herbal garden and along the paths that led under the trees through the grass.

 

The whole garden was set against the wooded cliffs of a high hill and had a micro climate of its own. It was mostly shady because of the many trees, but there were patches of sunlight where the herbs grew. The sculptures were placed according to design and size and were priced accordingly. The sad thing was that, for now, they were all out of our price range, except for the real small ones that sat on the window ledge of the small café.

 

I saw one of a voluptuous woman figure that I unfortunately did not get a photo of, but that I would very much like to have. She had an enormous rear end that you would want to stroke every time you passed her. I will somehow have to figure out a way to save up the money to buy her.

 

 

It was a wonderful experience and one I would like to repeat but then with some money in my pocket, but even without it, it was a joy to walk around there and see such craftsmanship. Maybe it is even to ordinary to be considered as art, but I appreciated it very much and thought of the time put in to create it and the cause it was made for. It seemed very worthwhile.

 

 

 

Our next stop was the American Cemetery in Margraten that sits on top of a plateau overlooking the Meuse valley. There are thousands of American soldiers buried there and the names of the ones that are missing are engraved into long marble walls beside a long pond that leads to a memorial tower. Behind that are the enormous burial fields with one row of crosses and stars of David after the other.

 

 

 

 

Here there are nothing but the sounds of nature and the grounds are perfectly kept. It is a very peaceful place that makes you think of and consider many things, but mostly how young those soldiers must have been when they died and what a high price they paid for our freedom. This is one instance when I am not in doubt about the good cause, but maybe that is selfishly spoken. How can any parent allow their child to give his life for a foreign cause? How would I have felt if that had been my son?

 







 

 

We finished the afternoon with a ride through the countryside on windy roads that led over hills and through valleys and through the prettiest villages that tourists from other places paid an arm and a leg for to visit. It was like being on a holiday and at one point we stopped for ice cream that was the best for miles around. We had three scoops in a cone and they tasted very good and were very filling. But then my sister told me that there were two places downtown where you could buy ice cream that was even better than that, although I could not believe it. I am going to try it next Saturday when I will have my first date.

 

When I finally got home, Tyke and Gandhi were happy enough to see me and thought wonderful things were going to happen, so of course I had to give them some food, because they acted like they were starving. I had a rest while they ate and then took Tyke for a walk. I was near exhaustion, but had enough energy to fix dinner for myself, which I badly needed. Hunger will motivate you well enough. I went to bed early and was asleep in no time at all. My whole body was heavy with fatigue and sore, but I did have the feeling that the day was well spent.