Untitled - Beeldbibliotheek

182 CARAVAN DAYSwaters. The scene was indeed not unlike a colouredposter of a Riviera resort, come to life. Now theJournalist and I, who were far in advance of thevan, were not at all dressed for this sort of thing.(The Journalist wears a dark grey flannel shirt,and Ialways walk in blue shorts.) We felt thatthe explanation of our appearance was lacking,but we went boldly on. The Journalist, who is aman of conspicuous personal courage, even seatedhimself at a table in the very thick of it, and calledfor a glass of water.to look for steak.But I went into the butcher'sStrathpeffer was a good dealperturbed about the Journalist, slightly affrontedperhaps, above all puzzled. But the explanationwas soon forthcoming. SIEGLINDA rolled downthe hill and drew up in the centre of the throng,and from that moment Strathpeffer was satisfiedand even pleased at our arrival. It no longerfrowned upon us. In fact it made a variety offriendly overtures. It is possiblethat now thatthe piper had stopped playing the promenaderswere suffering from a lack of entertainment(for the Journalist reported that the waters werenot at all entertaining), and so delightful anobject as SIEGLINDA, shot into their midst, wasgratefully accepted as such. In any case it tookus some time to complete our business, and