Spain

The summer in Holland was pretty typical: a few rainy days, and very few days above say 24 degrees.
Although we were only 30 minutes by bike from the beach, we only went there once to swim. The kids love the beach, but the weather just wasn’t good enough.
Bernt’s sister Anne Marie and her family were going to Spain on their summer holidays, so we decided to fly to Barcelona and spend some time with them there.
It was good, but would’ve been a lot better if Bernt had been feeling better.

Going to Spain also gave us an opportunity to visit Rob and Plony, our dear friends that live south of Barcelona.
And Bernt could do the one thing he really wanted to do this holiday: spend some decent time at La Sagrada Familia – the magnificent church in Barcelona that the architect Gaudi designed but never got to finish.

England

Friends generously allowed us to rent their campervan again – the same one we used in 2005.
Initially we were going to take it to England, maybe Ireland and then down to Spain, possibly by ferry. However we simplified our plans considerably to just visiting England: Annabelle wasn’t travelling very well and the camper didn’t have air-conditioning.

We took the ferry from Calais to Dover (campers with their gas bottles aren’t allowed on the ‘Chunnel Train’ – a good thing: a few weeks later there was a huge fire in one of the tunnels, disrupting traffic for months).
Being in an English-speaking country was a breath of fresh air for Doris, mostly because she could understand the street signs!
We visited the wonderful Legoland near Windsor, and then drove up to Drayton Manor Park near Birmingham, where they created Thomasland – of Tank Engine fame of course… Christopher (and Annabelle) loved it!

Our plan was to spend a second day at Thomasland and then to drive south to spend a few days in London, but mama’s health made us go straight back to Hengelo.

After getting back to Holland we didn’t feel like continuing to travel with the camper, so we cleaned and returned it on Sunday. I needed a lift to get back home and José, one of mama’s nurses offered to come along so Doris didn’t have to drive (she never got behind the wheel in Europe…). José and I had a good conversation driving back; talking about her 16 year-old daughter whom José is taking care of by herself.
Then on Tuesday morning Gerben called – José had passed away, aged only 51. She’d had a heart-attack the night before, but it didn’t seem serious and the doctor told her to get some extra sleep. Her daughter found her the next morning.

If this doesn’t rub your face in the uncertainty of life, what will? But still, it didn’t really hit home with me yet…