Once, it must have been a very cloudy day, it had been decided, that the gap between the airfield and D4-101 had to be filled with a business park. Because companies themselves make noise, so they will have no objections to overwhelming air traffic. The land could be bought for a bargain price.
This hamlet with an abundance of corrugated iron hangars and overhead doors has now become a growing office village. Over the years, houses were also built, because all those employees preferred to be housed close to work. The result is a dead new housing estate. During the day everyone is at work. In the evening, the tired feet are on the couch and the curtains are closed. And so on.
Although today there will be a lot of unemployed people.
Invitrovillage is the name. Nice to meet you.
The wind is always blowing, which is reinforced by the many here and there and higgledy-piggledy placed office towers, so that every 50 meters you are blown all over from behind unexpected corners and curves.
Between 12 and 2, the employees walk along the Dreven, the Paviljoens, the Lanes and Avenues with names of constellations, planets and telecom jargon.
Nobody knows the way. Those who work there once found it difficult to find where they needed to be. They remembered that much, but the street plan is so illogical that it’s fairly impossible to know.
It's the kind of area TanTan must have envisioned when they developed their navigation system.
The only ones who walk there are the lunchtime walkers. Everyone else comes by car. The few cyclists and moped riders I saw drove so fast that they could only be passing through.
So, many sidewalks are a dead end in Invitrovillage.
There you are, with your GPS stuck at a previous station, no street sign in the area and the suspicion that you must be at a group of buildings across the street. How do you cross? And is there a footpath across the street? The long grass in the central reservation of the dual carriageway obscures my view. Will I still have to toil a few hundred meters on the other side through grass, rabbit droppings and mud, only to find out that I'm wrong?
It is even sadder when you see how much office space is empty. The largest tower, a semicircle of about 30 storeys in mirror glass, which melts the tires of cars parked nearby during heat waves, bears - it seems almost with pride - a bright red mega sticker stating how many m2 is available.
A little further on, 2 other megalomaniacs are under construction.
Long live progress! As long as there is construction in Klotestad, the economy is doing well!
At one of the many building sites, 4 construction workers are having lunch in the sun. While their jaws grind the food, they look at me blankly. I wish them bon appetit, but they don't respond. They look right through me.
