I’ve not seen a pair of cloggs since I got here.  One windmill and that’s it.  No obvious sign of people high on drugs and no semi naked prostitutes adorning the shop windows.

My meals out have been a little pricey, especially compared to my Eastern Europe jaunts, and modern Eindhoven is a bit like Preston.  Unexciting with a bit of football heritage.

But the people are chilled.  And feel almost British without being quite so serious.  Indeed, a good proportion of conversations between locals appear to be held in English.  Amsterdam is impressive and so is Utrecht.  I’m lucky that somebody else’s misfortune gave me a chance to see the latter.  It’s probably worth more than the couple of hours it got from me.

Next stop is Boston and New England in three weeks.  Tomorrow I get a head scan to help with the deaf right ear and the evil palsy.

Trying to Work Out What Einhoven Is