That’s right, I spent last night in Urk. Met a couple from there on my way into town and when I mentioned that I thought it was a odd name, they looked surprised. “In Swedish?” they asked. “In both Swedish and English” I said. Sounds like a town in The Lord of the Rings.
Spent Saturday looking around Kampen.
From the drawbridge, to the markets.
The ships and even a cow hanging from the clock tower.
When I photographed a cheese display, the guy behind the counter asked me if I wanted a shot with me and a cheese. Why not!
They have probably done this with countless tourists, check out the girls in the background giving a thumbs up!
Sunday I walked to Urk and planned to take the ferry to Enkhuzien but the ferry did not run on Sundays. In fact most things appeared to be closed on Sundays. There were plenty of tourists and boats in Urk and plenty of restaurants, cafe’s and bars, all closed. I managed to find one open restaurant, a Chinese one of course!
While I sat there enjoying my black bean chicken a couple of local girls came to pick up their take away and I took the opportunity to ask them if there was a camping ground anywhere close by. They conferred and then tried to explain where. It was proving a bit difficult and in the end one of the girls whipped her mobile out of her bra and showed me where. Then she put it back. That’s one way of stuffing your bra!
On the way to the camping I discovered why everything was closed. Suddenly the streets were swarming with people dressed in their Sunday best, heading home from church. There were plenty of black suits and I almost felt like I had been transported back in time.
There was plenty of room at the camp ground, that’s the Mule and the tent almost lost in the big field.
Had a good nights sleep and headed back to town to catch the 9 o’clock ferry.
Still heading west towards the coast.