A short, unladen round trip across dull countryside to Hellevoetsluis, which was more interesting than I’d imagined. A fortified port surrounded by apartments with enormous windows overlooking the waterway. On the way back we encountered a mass lie-in by sheep – so unfazed by our presence that they barely raised their heads as we passed.

Willemstad to Heenvliet: from the 16th to the 21st century and back again. The modern world was represented by the long Haringvlietbrug over the Hollands Diep and the wind turbines in the background. From there I could look back at the old windmill in Willemstad.

And now we are in Heenvliet, which is utterly charming and within spitting distance of those petrochemical plants we saw on the first day. There are also the ruins of a 13th-century castle – Ravesteyn – left over from the Eighty Years War.

Today, as the navigator, I pulled rank and stuck to Knooppunten – less direct but far more enjoyable and varied than yesterday’s main road route. Through the sandy woods that stretched as far as our hotel, then agricultural – and horticultural – land until the border of the Hollands Diep. Shades of Dutch painted landscapes: long lines of poplars on the horizon. En route we cycled along one of those tree-lined roads which must have been so common when I first started cycling in the Netherlands over 40 (OMG!) years ago: a cobbled carriageway and a paved, smoother cycle lane at the side.

Willemstad was en fête when we arrived – it was the day of a mass run around the town which was just ending as we pedalled up the main street behind the slower stragglers. It seemed as if everyone was out to cheer on and applaud the runners, and we got our share of it. Willemstad is one of those star-shaped fortified towns, like Woerden, so obvious from the map. Its present fortifications date from the late 16th century and have been augmented by WWII German concrete bunkers. Nowadays it’s all very peaceful and picturesque – the kind of place where river cruise boats stop over. The town’s silhouette from the ramparts include a windmill, a town hall, a domed church, lots of lime trees and an arsenal – whose menacing puprose is softened by having a pretty carillon.

Well, not quite Breda. A hotel on the southern edge facing a wood. It was built in 1897 and does indeed give the sense that Victorian or Edwardian clothing would be more appropriate than the easy-wash stuff I wear. There’s an owl hooting over the road – a sound I haven’t heard for some years.

One bathroom light didn’t work, a net curtain was partly torn from blowing around in the breeze, the furniture was eclectic, the stairs to the first floor perilous . . . yet the hotel in Gennep was probably my favourite so far of the holiday. I liked the size, the quirkiness and I particularly liked the view from the balcony. I can get functioning lights in any old hotel room – but I’ve never come across one that had a view of a town hall with a storks’ nest on top.

More perfect cycling conditions, including that precious tailwind. Over the Maas, round an ox-bow lake (first-year geography lessons coming back), more of the Boxteler Bahn coming through Veghel, and then onto cycle paths beside main roads to cover some distance. That done, we returned to little tree-lined roads to Sint Michielsgestel, where the church (by H W Valk, 1931) caught my eye. Tiny bricks making something so massive, just as the Dutch have been doing for centuries. I liked the little decorative touches, like ribbing on a knitted sweater.