Monday 30 July. Museums and many shops close on a Monday so reviewed my plans. Found a local bike shop on google that was open so decided to get my grinding bottom bracket sorted. “Yes, we can do that,” they said, “collect your bike at five.” When I went to collect, they hadn’t done it as they had to order in a part; “bring it in after two tomorrow.” 🙄
Anyway, bikeless, I rode Shanks’s pony into the town of Maassluis for an explore. I wasn’t expecting much as all I’ve seen of the town has been unprepossessing and utilitarian but, once again, following my nose led me to reward. At its heart lay a lovely old town and port.
The local church had a moving contemporary memorial to the 18 residents of Maassluis who were killed in the bombing on 18 March 1943 by, surprisingly, the Royal Australian Air Force.
Built in the mid-1600’s, it is one of the oldest in the country.
All in a small town tucked away in the shoreline sprawl extending from Rotterdam that I would have missed had it not been no museum Monday.