Harlingen

Twenty-five years later, he was holed up in a pool house in Harlingen, drunk, lonely, paranoid, and dying.

Thirty years ago much of our butter and beef and poultry sailed from Harlingen.

Possibly it is still to be seen: certainly other visitors to Harlingen should be more energetic than I was, and make sure.

It is no joke when one lives in a town like Harlingen to act differently from other people.