all things green

Waiting in the dark cargo deck, squeezed between the metal fence supporting our bikes and a large mobile home filled with an irritated Dutch family, we loaded our bikes and sorted our helmets making casual chit chat with other touring cyclists. Lorries, buses and a substantial group of hells angel styled motor bikers revving their engines shared the deck in anticipation with us as we waited for what seemed like a day to alight the ferry and step into the fresh sea air to start our journey.

Eventually the doors opened.  Away we went! As we pedalled along the port I realized that our 57 mile trip to Rotterdam via Den Haag would not be along a road made from yellow bricks, the signs would not be large and neon saying, “straight ahead to Rotterdam, only 57 miles to go”.

Perhaps it would take longer than I thought? Perhaps 57 miles was the shortest possible route, walking where bikes could never go. Yes, it may take a rather long time !! Nevertheless, fresh and excited, we cycled in the direction we thought it could be, repeatedly asking people the way to Rotterdam and receiving chuckles followed by the phrase, “On a bike? You must be kidding.” These responses started to make us think this was not just a physical challenge but a great test of navigation skills. The very real and very cruel penalty for poor navigation is many more miles of cycling. And we thought our proposed distances per day would be challenging enough at around 60 miles. Strangely, it wasn’t the shortage of signs, but the overwhelming amount of them, some of them seeming to point to the same place name but in different directions, we found this most frustrating, illogical and confusing. Also, as any sensible person would obviously expect, not every sign 60 miles away from your final destination has the name of your final destination on it, so sometimes we realized you need to head to a town en route.

                It must be noted that despite the disappointment of cycling around a few towns early on in the day, backwards, forwards, in circles, in squares, the occasional triangle, and actually I think we did one hexagon we were pleasantly distracted by the very beautiful environment around us. From houses, to canals, amazingly well-kept gardens, filled with flowers both public and private, idyllic parks and quaint barges, coupled with the radiant weather, it was possibly the best place to be lost. Holland is a beautiful country. Lost in paradise however, is still lost. When lost in a car you are sitting down, and in the worst case scenario you spend slightly more on petrol, but on a bike you get tired and mad !! Around this time, in my desperation to navigate and not cycle further than necessary, I had a eureka moment but not a good one! I realized that we’d foolishly booked our route going just about directly against the prevailing NE wind for the first couple of days, and so given the lack of geographical features (Holland is as flat as the sea) I thought heading against the wind, oh the cruel irony, would get us to our final destination fastest. Nevertheless, there was still a niggling feeling for the first couple hours of that day, that we were cycling on a treadmill with nothing substantial to gauge our progress –like sailing in the fog. It’s moments like these where we were left needing a sign, a white dove would have been followed, or maybe a flock of geese, at this time even a logical atheist would have become superstitious. Two very Dutch looking cyclists pulled up near us looking ready for a long ride, and I thought, “they must know how to navigate this forsaken and beautiful maze, they must have the key, or perhaps know of a golden compass to assist us!” So I wandered across with fingers crossed that they spoke English. Like a winning lotto ticket we had hit the Jackpot. Whilst we received no golden compass from them, we were given some golden advice.   These were clearly winged messengers sent to support us on our exploration of foreign lands.  We learnt info that would serve us well during our whole time in Holland. The many thousands of contrasting signs did indeed have logic and system – they were not solely designed to confuse foreigners. “Follow the red and white signs,” they said, “they are designed purely for cyclists”. “Wow – that is great” I thought! And so the red and white signs became our light in the dark our dove to follow.

                They also told us to follow a most fine-looking canal and gave us the names of a few towns to head towards after that. Appearing similar to a Rembrandt painting we followed the canal for a good 15 miles. Progress was ours-the energy we put in propelled us closer to our destination. Persistence and a little luck had overcome terrible planning and non-existent research. Every couple of kms, a red and white sign with a distance and arrow would stand tall and led us along great cycle paths. They even have lights specifically for bikes at junctions, and cars and pedestrians give way when our paths cross. On a bike you are king. A result of this most sensible cycle infrastructure is an infinite number of cyclists, more bikes than people I hear. All upright bikes, non- expensive, no helmets, not lycra wearing, girls with jeans chatting on mobile phones, old people on bikes being over taken by walkers, and no crashes.  Whilst at lunch, in a little café, we found our next gem of advice from a local school teacher having a post- work beer. The red and white signs are the shortest bike routes, but take you through town centres and you get stopped at lots of traffic bike lights, the “green and white signs” are for people touring and take you via scenic roads and paths where you do not have to stop every hundred yards. We made our way through miles and miles of sand dunes along the sea, on a perfect bike specific path with no stop signs – the yellow brick road I had been searching for was found!

                Shortly, we passed an affluent area with one mansion after another, all in very unique styles – like a catalogue of  ‘money is no object’ extravagant, original architect- designed houses, from White House look a likes, to eco homes in wooded grounds, Japanese minimalist styling, country manors, thatched roofs and oversized cottages and everything in between. This millionaire’s alley led us into Den Haag.  Not too long after getting lost in Den Haag, we travelled through a metropolis along another stunning canal and into Rotterdam. Our worries of trailing Rotterdam looking for our pre-booked hotel were ill founded as we managed to cycle straight to the front door. 65 miles done. How many still to go? Still it’s for a good cause.

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