Rotterdam

We have been to Holland before, a good many years ago, but it has just occurred to us that we have never driven here. Every other visit here was by boat rather than ship and this technical distinction is actually quite important. It is largely about scale but not entirely. It is also about control of one's own destiny.

From the moment we drive on board (via a section of motorway built into the bow) we are entirely in the hands of others, most of whom we would never get to meet, who communicate via loudspeakers set into the ceiling above us or through leaflets in various languages left in our cabin. Navigation, a nautical term generally used to describe the process of getting from a to b without hitting any hard bits (often referred to as 'land') now means finding your way along impossibly long corridors, up and down staircases and riding in lifts. Martin was left alone to fend for himself amongst others of his kind somewhere below the waterline - we weren't allowed near him - while we were stored away up on the 10th floor.

Our allocated cabin was just that, a cabin, with different permutations of beds to try had we the energy left to do so but frankly once we were on board it was past 9pm and after the stress of blagging our way past customs and security (mirror on a stick to look for explosives(?) beneath the van) we wanted only sleep.

So here we are driving into a bustling city dancing with rush hour traffic on the wrong side of the road with the satnav lady telling us which of 12 lanes to follow and how many kilometers to go to our destination; all of which we managed quite successfully actually. This and a certain amount of pre-planning brought us  to a Stadscamping located in an oasis of trees surrounded by motorways and railways and within earshot of the city zoo. Great if you like sealions.

Living and working in Rotterdam is our Dutch daughter, as we like to refer to her, who we first met over 30 years ago and Maartje's offer to take us to her home where she would feed us was the reason we found ourselves walking back through the dark city later that evening. But this was only the start of her plans for us.

Our tour guide arrived early the next day to escort us to the hire shop where we were fitted out with our fiets, the Dutch word for some incredible pieces of machinery. They have two chunky wheels, a wide leather saddle, enormous handlebars and a rear carrier which would easily carry a week's shopping but it is the ride position that makes it so Dutch, leaning slightly backwards, in the least aerodynamic way imaginable, arms held far apart by the width of the bars. And these are heavy machines, needing a good push to get started. Once moving, however, they roll along easily and we are straight out into the street following the car free lanes that make the city, and the whole country, the most cycling friendly place on earth.

Everywhere you look there are people on bikes; the streets are littered with them. We were being taken on an amazing city tour - spectacular older buildings sitting beside modern architectural wonders, the full commentary explaining how the city had grown from the sea on reclaimed land, the wartime destruction and the imaginative new buildings still going up - it was both exhausting and fascinating.

Lunch saw us at a popular vegetarian restaurant (right up our street, a place where you were charged by the weight of the food on your plate, something we had never come across before) then it was off across various bridges to a secret garden full of peace and quiet. At each road junction cyclists have perfect priority, kept separate from the cars, whilst riding on their own smooth tarmac lanes. For a pair of country folk this was mind boggling, total brain overload but somehow at the same time endlessly interesting.

To fully understand our experience of Rotterdam requires a British viewpoint. Imagine a keen cyclist building a city from the ground up. Absolute priority would be given to bikes over any other form of transport so that there is no longer any fear of being flattened by cars, buses or lorries. You'd have your own set of roads, narrower perhaps but quite adequate to accommodate two way cycle traffic and overtaking, and at every junction the crossing points would be marked wth painted shapes on the ground to indicate where you might have to give way... to other cyclists. Cars always have to wait for you; the drivers know this and they respect this rule, without exception, as they have all been brought up to understand this. Children are carried on seats either in front or behind the rider or babies even, in long specialised cargo bikes. You are raised from birth to expect nothing else. This, then, is the city of Rotterdam. No different from any other Dutch city perhaps but sadly so many worlds away from anything the small island of Britain has ever produced.