When It's Over

The odometer on my three week old cycle computer rolled past 1400km as we left the dunes and rolled onto the ferry. We'd ridden the last dozen kilometers especially slowly. Although no one said it, I think we were all keen to savor the last stretch. Where we would normally stop every 25km or so, there seemed to be plenty of reasons to stop in the dunes and to gaze at the Dutch countryside that flanks the North Sea

After four days of special cycle treatment, it was strange to be herded onto the ship like any other vehicle. Tickets and passports were all sorted at drive through booths, then it was onto the ship and up a ramp to another deck, where we hitched our bikes to a rail, and headed up to our cabin for the overnight trip across the North Sea.

The following day found us disembarking at a pace just relaxed enough to watch the hourly train depart as we were handed the tickets. Two hours and two trains later, we were back at Chris's.

Like most people returning from an "active" holiday, I packed up my gear and have spent a day or two recuperating, updating the blog (There are now more pictures in the earlier posts, but most of the spelling and grammatical errors remain), calling home and checking the galleries and museums of the city.

Simon and Chris, however, have a different value set. Chris's long term plan is to cycle the UK coast in its entirety. He's keen. Simon and he figured that they had at least two days of cycling in parts of it the south of England before the three of us part company and return to our mundane lives on different continents.

It has been a challenging, momentous and thoroughly enjoyable journey. Thanks to all who helped make it happen.

The last big push.

From Nijmegen, we had two days solid riding to get to the North Sea.

First stop, after a delightful day of riding along dykes with the wind to our backs, was Aalst. Who would have thought that my PDA would get flogged on the last night of paid accommodation? It did. I was bummed out.


From Aalst to Rotterdam was a different day, and the wind was no longer our friend. It howled accross the flat Dutch coutryside, hitting us head on. The succession of large and small ferries provided a welcome relief from the slog. The last 20km into Rotterdam was vintage Netherlands, with the path following the canals of Nieuwe Waterschap, lined with traditional windmills built in 1720.

A quiet afternoon beverage in central Rotterdam, and we pushed on towards Poeldijk. Before getting there, we were greeted by running out of water, my first puncture of the trip and our host's son, Rob, (in that order), who rode out to meet us and guide us the last couple of kilometers.

115km is too long to ride into the wind on one day , but Ruud, Gerda and Rob, instantly made the ride worthwhile. It turns out that Ruud is a chef by training. Nuf said. They have spoiled us rotten in the last few days. . .and with Den Haag and Delft just up the road, there's been more than enough to fill our last few days and nights. Thanks guys!

Tonight, we're off to the Hook of Holland, where a ferry awaits to take us to England overnight

Into bike heaven....

The journey on from from Cologne was decided for us; all trains to other destinations seemed booked, so we headed to Nijmegen.

The trip to date had been a delight of cycle friendliness, with cycle lanes common in the larger cities, and cars on most trains that can take cycles. The Dutch, however, take it to a whole new level:

• The train from the Dutch border had roll-on-roll-off facility for bikes.
• The train station in Nijmegen has a multi level cycle parking facility. Even minor stations have covered cycle parking and bike lockers.
  
• Every road big enough to warrant a centre line, also seems to also warrant a dedicated cycle lane
• where a cycle lane crosses a road, the bikes get right-of-way (at least we think we do!....)
  

To the south-east of Nijmegen, the countryside is hilly (in the Netherlands!), and we were directed there to find camping. Lucky us.

We chanced on a dairy farm that also offered camping. In between admiring the view, and picking the cherries dripping from their massive tree, we also helped the farmer extract one of his cows that had caught itself in a stall. Simon did the glamourous tractor work, I was directed to handle the ropes - one of which was around the cow's neck. Preminitions of another "bugger" incident, prooved unfounded.

Tourism at the Shallow End

Köln is a lovely city, the best known bits of which I despise. Not that there`s anything particularly odeous about Cologne's cathedral and old town - They would be delightful were it not for the shallow tourism that goes with it. And Köln isn't alone. Not by a long shot. From Paris, to Cairo, to Sydney, if you turn your back on the attraction, and look at the street stalls, you might as well not have left home: the same vendors, selling the same bags, t-shirts, wallets and scarves; all of which were made in the same factory on the other side of the world, by people with no knowlege or interest in the city, its history or its culture. The tourists are seemingly all here to get their picture of the Dom (. . .or the tower, the pyramid or the bridge), to tick a box and say that they have had their authentic experience. They've "done it". Yuck.

"That's not a bad thing", said Chris "They're all concentrated in the one area". Indeed!

Meanwhile, in Köln the locals have a fantastic real life just to the west of the river-front, and its spruikers, beggers and gawkers. The city to the West was heaving with young people, virtually all of whom live in the city, and none of whom are interested in the Dom, or the actors behaving like statues out the front of it. On Saturday night, West Köln was fantastic. The bars were full to overflowing, and everyone was having a great time. . .Until the Dutch lost the football match, after which, the Russian supporters made up for the lack of Dutch enthusiasm. They spilled out onto the streets, set off fireworks, waved flags, sang and set off a cacophony of car horns.

The ride from Bonn that morning was a 30km dawdle, with a lunch break in the middle. The petrochemical plant at the midway point left us in no doubt that we want to give the Ruhr a wide berth.

I had expected Bonn to be a depressed but quaint city, falling into dereliction and remeniscing about the time it was capital of the world`s 4th biggest economy. The combination of a huge university population and a car-free centre that streatches for about a dozen blocks changed perceptions. It was delightful and bustling, without a hint of buskers pretending to be Bonn's most recognised son, Beethoven.

We're not quite sure where we'll go tomorrow. The weather forcast is not good

Options are:

1: Eindhoven by train

2: Hückelhoven by train

3: Nijmegen by train

4: Option 1,2 or 3 by rental car, following a side trip to Northern France to visit a war cemetary in which a relative of simon's lies.

Bloody Communists

"We're a travelling commune" I said to the guy at the youth hostel, as I paid for us all. he had a bit of a chuckle, and clearly found us more interesting than the year 7-9 school groups, which have started using the hostels as if by right.

The collective thing has been pretty convenient for bills where we've all consumed. Sure, Chris and Simon eat more than me, but I drink more coffee. To save the international fee we do the same with cash withdrawals; each taking turns to draw €300, and giving the others 100 each. Most goes into the aforementioned collective fund.

The past 4 days have been spent riding through some of the nicest imaginable countryside. Maniz-Koblenz, was 2 days of easy riding through the Rhine valley, with castles overlooking the river on both sides. We stayed in St Goar, which has deteriorated into a clip joint for the international tourists (albeit a pretty one). The cycling, however, is free.

In Koblenz, the clear, tranquil waters of the Mosel meet the more turbid waters of the Rhine and its bustling barge traffic. We had read about the Mosel ride, so decided to leave most of our gear at the hostel, and train up river. We figured that from Trier, we could ride back down in a couple of days, catching the train if we got stuck for time.

The Mosel is tremendous. There is little boat traffic, and the trains only join the river at some towns. In between, it is a steep sided 100m deep valley, lined on the southern sides with grape vines, for which the region is famous. there are medieval towns every few kilometers, virtually all of which are catering to the German and Dutch cycling tourists, motor homers and Koblenz day-trippers.

After staying the night at Traben-Trabach, we headed down to Cochem for lunch. Chris was feeling a little under the weather, so caught the train back to Koblenz, while Simon and I enjoyed the strengthening afternoon breeze. The other beautifull thing about the Mosel was that it had a strong wind from the South. With the wind at our backs, it was great to get into a 2 bike train, and blast allong at 35-45km/h. By 3:30 we were back in Koblenz. after doing 210km in the last couple of days, we're getting close to the 1000km mark.

Asparagus in Mainz

Heidelberg to Mainz was the first day we cheated and took the train. Not the whole way though. We rode 60km out of Heidelberg and north, through the forests skirting Mannheim. The weather has taken a slight turn for the worse compared to the previous four or five with occasional drizzle and more rain always threatening.

When we broke for a late lunch west of Worms, it was clear that we would either have to stay in Worms, with the impending inclement weather to deal with, or train to Mainz and a dry room.

Not only did we get a dry room, we got one each! Bärbel's ace place is only matched by her. We plied her with dinner out and an ice cream or two. She's shown us the delights of the old town, with it's churches, markets and institutions dedicated to its most famous son - Guttenberg.

Bärbel is also showing me how to cook the local white asparagus, which is in season at the moment. I can't wait!

Oh for a Room

The ride from Speyer to Heidelberg isn't really on the Rhine Route, but it's a great, short side trip, and mostly through the forest. There were some cherry trees beside the fields en-route, and we harvested plenty. They were ripe and ready for eating.

We got our first real hills since Basel today, and had a nice view back over the countryside that we had covered in the past few stages. In the distance we could see the spires of Speyer.

If there is a city in heaven, Heidelburg might be it. Pretty as a picture, and packed to the gills with young people - tourists, university students, and yanks (nice ones!) on posting- all having fun.

Chris struck up a conversation with a local woman called Sabine, who had ridden through NZ back in the day, and was drawn to our bikes. She worked for the city, so put us straight on some of the interesting historical and planning aspects of the town, while we enjoyed lunch at the Marktplatz. Sabine also gave us the lowdown on where the young peeps go to hang out (and watch the football, when it is on). So the evening's entertainment was sorted - at the Marstallhoff.

We pitched camp by the river (mistake one) and headed into town to enjoy some of the atmosphere of the Germany - Croatia Euro 2008 football game at the aforementioned Marstallfoff. Then the heavens opened. Back at the camp, we found that the site was right by a busy road (mistake two) and a rail line (mistake three).

If the weather stays nasty overnight, we might take the train to Mainz, where a friend's mum, Bärbel, has offered us a room. Oh! - for a dry room tonight. . .