Teko told me about a plan he had with a colleague to see Castle Groeneveld this weekend, which had me scratching my head a bit. He rarely went out with colleagues, for one, and when he did it usually didn’t involve anything cultural. We had both been to the gardens around Groeneveld a few times over the years (because it was free) and eaten at the cafe next door, which was lovely, but never got around to actually going inside the castle itself, so the idea of such an outing piqued my interest, confusion aside. I waited until the last minute to confirm joining thinking such a plan would likely fall by the wayside but as it turned out, it did push through. Playing the third wheel, I made the most of the trip, enjoyed the history and snapped as many photos I could manage, marvelling at the wonders that people with money and a hand-me-down title could accomplish. The socialist in me though was happy to see so many working-class folk like us enjoying a nice day out in royal surroundings.
I didn’t expect much from Groeneveld Castle but it turned out to be a lot more interesting than anticipated. While my companions thought our volunteer tour guide was a bit long-winded at times, I very much appreciated her telling us her stories, and knowledge, and viewpoint, for free I might add, of the castle, which has been around even longer than our own home. Living in a 250-year old house has given me more appreciation for the past in general and the historical background of anything that’s been around much longer than I have. Stories that are still told even after so much time has passed really makes me think how insignificant most of what I considered as important really is, and I’m glad I realized this now rather than never.