Sauerkraut on the stove, I waited for Tobi to return from the kennels, where we had boarded Felix overnight. Peering out the front door, I couldn't see his car, but I did hear a loud "Boom, boom" coming from outside. I thought that he was perhaps listening to a particularly good song in his rental BMW, loud enough for me to hear from inside the house, so I opened the door, but no Tobi.
Suddenly, I realized that it was the sound of a marching band.
"Quick, let's get our jackets on!" I yelled to Lukas. He grabbed his coat, I grabbed mine, and we piled into my car. I figured it wasn't far, but I wasn't sure how long they'd be playing for.
A few hundred meters past our farm, just inside the village, was a marching band in full uniform, surrounded by children with little lanterns and their parents. I was in heaven.
After a few minutes, they marched on in a type of parade formation, and Lukas and I returned home. I was only inside for a minute, before deciding to grab the camera and head back into town, this time to snap some photos of the marching band that had made our return to Oudelande all the more special.
We had contemplated staying in Paris for another night, but I couldn't bring myself to spend another €150 for a hotel that we didn't even like. So we headed home.
And someone up there must have been watching us, because we could have received no better homecoming than a surprise visit from a marching band for no apparent reason, other than to play, and to march, in our tiny Zeeland village.