Arnhem

Well, if you're in Arnhem, you have to go and see the bridge, right? And actually the little museum beside it - Airborne at the Bridge, is quite excellent, simply telling the story through three combatants.
(Aside:
MrT: I must take something back for Kenny who lent me his panniers - his dad died at Arnhem.
Me (thinks, scratching head): really? What age is he?
MrT: I dunno, mid-fifties
Me: something's wrong there then, surely?
F: no, that's fair enough, I'm that age and my Dad fought in WW2
Me (thinks): these are academics I'm with?)
So, after, a new dry sack was purchased, it was on to the Art Museum - a great place, with an exhibition by Ravage, a pair of chaps I'd never heard of. Napoleon and Josephine Swatch watches? Superb. Onward by trolley bus to seek out ales, which we did most successfully. Meanwhile, outside the bar, the rain lashed down. So much so that I began to fear for my lonely tent. I can report it's dry. And rodent free. But then again, I have no bananas.