Stuck in Zeist (27/08)

Zeist is a small Wassenaar-like town in the middle of Holland near to the city of Utrecht. In order to get there, and I say this with great pride, I succeeded in catching 2 correct trains and 2 correct buses. The weather, which was dismal over the weekend, had fortunately dissipated so a walk around the beautiful twin squares, the Zuster en Broederplein, was possible. The squares, possessing affluent manor houses, were located on either side of the central street, itself adorned with bright pot plants and conifers. They prepared the way if you like to the Slot Zeist, the largest house of them all, which stood centrally ahead of the squares, proudly overlooking the street into the town centre.

There was certainly an aristocratic aloofness to the Slot Zeist since to enter its grounds one had to cross a single bridge. Nevertheless the little island was superb and the view beyond the lake around it, equally so. Much of the building was undergoing construction work but that didn’t detract from its kinship to nature. It was easy to lose track of time. Indeed when I headed back to the bridge at 5pm it was locked. Quickly I circled the grounds but all the machinery was now abandoned. Hoping I wasn’t totally alone on the island I ran back to where I’d passed an old lady sitting and was oh-so relieved to find her there once more. Together we paced the grounds and pondered as to how we could get across the water. In the end I dialled 112, she spoke. After an hour, by which time I’d grown rather fond of the lady who had funnily enough been an au pair herself in Paris in her youth, the police arrived with a single key to open the gate. Over we crossed. I must admit I was a little bit jittery as the doors of the train closed on my return...how bizarre.