Holland by bike - 3

Each day of riding is different.

This sounds like an obvious thing to say but unless you are mentally prepared for the Dutch infrastructure it keeps throwing surprises. We spend a whole day getting from A to B on a pre-planned route which criss-crosses roads, railways and canals and at each change of direction we encounter something different. A fietspad (cycle path) may be a wide, two-way path on just one side of a road or there may be separate one-way paths on either side. Often the paths move away from roads and are exclusively for cyclists. These may be wide or narrow but still cater for cyclists going both directions and sometimes have trees growing alongside whose roots have lifted the tarmac enough for caution to be needed. Then sometimes there is a full width cycle-only path which bends around a windmill.

The narrow streets in a town or village are usually paved with klinkers (bricks or small pavers), the presence of which signifies speed restrictions (for cars). Where there are shops the cyclists can simply pull over to one side and prop the bike on its stand wherever is convenient (on what we would call the pavement). I think this is called 'parking'.

Flowers are important things here too and a floral display might pop up anywhere, without any explanation that we can understand. Grand mansions may also pop into view without warning alongside a quiet and deserted woodland path.

Our first encounter with rain on our journey, a steady light drizzle, was enough to justify donning full waterproofs for the first time.

We are not long into our holiday but thankfully the wind is light and by midday the rain had stopped, enabling us to sit outside and eat the frites (chips) we had ordered to go with our lunchtime coffee. Several days later, however, we got proper rain. We had spent a relaxing morning in Delft before setting off on a path beside a wide commercial waterway and looking ahead we could see what was coming our way. The rain pelted down and by the time we made it to Rotterdam the water was filling the streets faster then the drains could take it away. This was the first real test of our equipment, the panniers, the bikes, our clothing, and our resilience in the face of torrential rain. By the time we arrived at our pre-booked hostel we'd had enough and we were glad to be allowed to drip upon the floor inside. Over the course of our two day stay our wet things soon dried off.

One thing that has to survive in these conditions is the phone I am using for navigation. A waterproof bag on my crossbar enables me to keep the screen in view and routing instructions are transmitted into my ears via bluetooth. The system is not perfect but it did take us right into the centre of Rotterdam despite road closures, rush hour traffic and the enormous puddles giving us probably the most severe test we could have wished for.

The city is very busy, full of art works, and not a place for the faint hearted. But the nice thing about the whole infrastructure here is that where cars, bikes and pedestrians meet the signage at the crossing places always provides a clear set of rules so that the priority is clear... and usually it is the bikes that can cross first.

Bikes fill the cities... and everywhere else.

Any time someone leaves (parks) their bike it is immediately secured by a clever sliding lock fixed to the frame just in front of the back wheel. We call these 'Dutch bike locks' for the simple reason that every bike here has one. The problem for us was that they are not fitted to British bikes, which makes us feel our bikes are quite vulnerable here, an easy steal for a thief. On our journey through Holland we tried several bike shops but we were told they could not be fitted as our bikes are not made with the appropriate screw hole to fasten the lock to the frame. It was not until we arrived in Delft that we found a clever bike shop owner who knew better and from that moment on we feel much safer when parking our bikes anywhere on the street. The fact that they survived two nights left by the roadside on a busy street in Rotterdam stand as a testament to the deterrent value of these locks. We love them.

Holland by bike - 2

Rather foolishly, perhaps, when we first planned this holiday we took no account of the fact that it would begin precisely as the Easter holiday period was starting. Even if we had, we would not have had any way of knowing how Dutch people might celebrate this, if at all. Having arrived here we now know that a trip to the coast is a popular activity here and the effect of this was that having chosen, quite randomly, a cycle touring route that started along the coast, it meant that we were competing for accommodation with the rest of Holland. Places to stay were hard to find so after pre-booking our first night in Zandvoort we decided to stay in a hostel until the holiday period was over. Our overall strategy from the start was to sort of 'wing it' by not arranging each night's accomodation until just before we needed it, our thinking being that until we know how far we can cycle in one day we will not be sure where we might end up. We wanted to avoid the stress of having to travel further than we could comfortably manage.

I am, however, writing these words in the home of Tineke, in whose Zandvoort home we were guests for our first night. And we could not have asked for a more comfortable place to stay.

The ride here took us through a National Park along beautifully smooth paths laid out just for cyclists to use. No fear from passing cars here. They were all sent on a detour around the park - and quite rightly too. We could pause for breath whenever we wanted and the only hazard was when a keen, lycra-clad racing cyclist came at us from behind and shot by in a gust of wind. Our clever navigation system (thank you Mrs Google) took us right to the door and we were delighted to have total privacy and a warm bed for our first night away.

By the time day two dawned we had planned a circular route exploring the sand dunes and the tulip fields further south.

The weather was cool but being kind to us, just a light breeze, and the sun popped out later in the day as we rode slowly along the red surfaced cycle paths that make this country so easy to get around.

Tulips and bikes says it all. At a brief coffee stop beside the route we met dozens of fellow tourists, all on big wheeled Dutch machines they had hired for the day and at each road junction the cars politely waited for us all to cross, a practice that filled us with confidence. Just how the Dutch ended up so reliant on their bikes is a story that goes back years but to us it felt like we had stepped into another world, one where the bike is king.

Our inability to speak Dutch does not seems to matter at all.

Whilst wondering on foot through a residential area we were impressed by the fresh blossom on a tree (it turned out to be a Wych Elm) and we soon found ourselves in conversation with a local man whose English was almost perfect.

I had predicted that some signage might be difficult to understand but with a little thought things generally make sense. Whilst there are plenty of signs aimed at car drivers, telling them where they cannot go, signs which restrict the movement of cycles are almost non-existent. The pavements are often shared by pedestrians and cyclists without any apparent conflict or aggression. Electric bikes are commonplace but by no means exclusive and families of all ages ride everywhere with the younger children in trailers or else balanced high on the handlebars of a Dutch bike. Cyclists here are fearless, which is of course why we are here.

Day three sees us setting off on another circular route, planned the evening before using just one of the assortment of mapping apps installed on the phone as part of our holiday preparations. The app knows we are riding bikes so it automatically directs us along cyclepaths (fietspad) which keeps us clear of main roads and only in towns are we sharing road space with the SUVs.

Arriving at the centre of Haarlem we pause for a coffee then sit and watch the river traffic from a peaceful riverbank.

My routing app then sends me across the river and along another traffic free path where we share our lunch with a very friendly pair of ducks. Just beyond this we cross the water again on a small ferry, designed for free use by cyclists and foot passengers, then weave our way through the Haarlem suburbs before joining a former tramway, a wide, smooth surfaced path leading us back to Zandvoort. The word 'path' does not do justice to what we are cycling on everywhere we go here. These are built as roads, and without the wear and tear from cars they remain smooth and undamaged. Even the cattle grids ('wild rooster' in Dutch) are designed smooth enough for bikes to ride over safely.

Holland by bike - 1

By the time you are reading this post our leg muscles will have strengthened, the soreness in our bottoms will have eased and our faces will be tanned from exposure to the wind and sun. Riding on the right will have become second nature to us, looking to the left first when crossing a road will have become automatic, we will have learnt some essential Dutch words and we will be feeling confident about deciding to go on this big adventure. But let us backtrack a little to summarise the days leading up to our arrival on Dutch soil.

After weeks of dry days, so many that the smoke from local wildfires can be seen from the windows at home, there is a sudden change in the weather. It is significantly cooler and the rain showers seem to arrive from nowhere just as we are preparing to leave home for the first leg of our journey to the ferry terminal in Newcastle. We realise that we must dress in warm clothes, ones that we might have thought would be packed away in our panniers, and keep our waterproof outer layers handy for the next rain shower. The journey to Newcastle is complex since it involves catching two ferries, three trains and cycling up a very big hill. The final train journey is the one that whizzes us to the centre of Newcastle and from here we have a nice bike ride along the banks of the River Tyne towards the ship that will carry us across the North Sea to Holland. What can possibly go wrong.

By mid afternoon on the day of departure our panniers were loaded with everything from our checklists and the bikes themselves are lashed to the rack on back of our van as this is our strategy to avoid cycling along the dangerously busy main road. By the time we board ferry No.1, crossing Kilbrannan Sound to the Isle of Arran, we are both exhausted.

The stress of  weeks of preparation is taking its toll but despite a minor unpredicted setback (the absence of a bus service I could use to return to the ferry after taking our van back home) the sun is shining and here we are walking on board.

Our first night away from home was uneventful and the cycle ride to Brodick the following day passed smoothly, despite the massive mountain we had to climb over. 

Once in sight of Brodick the local seals waved their tails at us as we rode by, which was nice, then ferry No.2 took us to Troon where train No.1 scooted us off to night No.2 in Glasgow's youth hostel. This turned out to be a sleepless night thanks to a squadron of noisy young ladies in the adjoining room but we arose early and tried to exact payback by making as much noise as we could before cycling to the station for train No.2 to Edinburgh.

Whilst waiting for this a pigeon seemed very interested in our bikes but we were soon on train No.3 which took us south to Newcastle. Here we joined the Hadrian's Way cycle path along the River Tyne which led us to the ferry terminal although again, a slight unpredicted difficulty arose when the path's signage went awry close to the port. Thankfully this did not prevent us from boarding the ship on time and after an excellent meal on board we bedded down for the night.

There really is little more to say about the journey to Holland. Soon after having breakfast on board we found ourselves deep in the bowels of the ship where we loaded our panniers then walked the bikes off the ship. The customs official seemed pleased to see us and waved us away from the Ijmuiden terminal onto our first Dutch road. Not that we needed roads for long, for just around the corner my pre-planned route would direct us onto a wide, smooth-surfaced cycle path which meandered through a National Park. We could not have asked for more.

Preparation for touring the Netherlands

This post is a sequel to what was posted here back in early February when we were in the planning stage of what for us is to be a great adventure. So, assuming there are such things as 'stages' when it comes to cycling one could say we are now in the 'fitness' stage. This involves going out on as many rides as we can, these getting longer each time so that we get to know, or even improve on, our physical limits. The picture here is us taking a lunch break in Kilberry, a distance of some twenty five kilometres from where we live. (I should also explain that we have gone completely metric as part of our preparation for the trip.) This particular ride taught us some useful lessons; what to wear when the air temperature is only around eight degrees celsius, the speed at which we can put on our waterproof jackets to avoid getting wet when the rain starts; the slowing effect of a headwind; the boost provided by a tailwind; the need to carry snacks with us on the basis that there will be nowhere we can buy food.

Clearly there will be limitations on what we can carry with us on this mad adventure, in terms of both weight and volume. So having compiled detailed lists of things we think we might need it seems sensible to do a trial pack of everything on those lists to make sure they will all fit in our bike panniers. I should stress here that we will be cycle touring, which according to most definitions does not involve camping. We will be sleeping each night on a bed in someone's home or else in a hotel, thus eliminating the need for camping gear of any sort. This leaves us with only carrying the right mixture of warm, dry clothes - likely to take up most of our space - personal items like washing or shaving gear and tools suitable for fixing small things that might go wrong. Given that Holland is a country with more bikes than people we would hope that for any more serious repairs we can rely on finding a good mechanic.

After riding back home from Kilberry along the bumpy single track road we begin to think about tyres. Cars have tyres, of course, and when the need arises cars use service stations with air machines to pump up their tyres. A manually operated pump is rarely used and these days most cars would not carry such a thing.

The big difference with touring in Holland is that we'll be using cycle paths, not roads... Why? Because the country is full of them. We do intend to carry a small manual tyre pump but might it make sense for us to have an electric machine, to make our lives easier? So it is that we make a late decision to invest in yet another gadget which must be fitted in along with our luggage. This is a battery powered air pump and will need charging, just like our phones, but we are also taking a small solar panel with us, something to be lashed on to the back of my bike ready to catch some sunlight. Will this all work? Only time will tell.

As I write we still have several weeks to go before our departure date, still time to fit in a few more training rides. There are some indications that the weather might soon be a little kinder to us but sadly there is not a gadget for this.

Thankfully our experience of Holland (in a sailing boat) tells us that because so few countries in the world speak their language, most Dutch people are familiar with spoken English so communication on a personal level should not be too difficult. However this leaves us with the task of understanding the road signs, especially since these are often abbreviated or converted to symbols to save space. We like to think that a toilet sign is something we could not mistake but a direction sign naming a particular place will mean nothing if we do not know where that place is. There are numbered cycle routes which cover the whole country but if the named destination is unknown to us then these may be of limited use. So rather than rely on trying to make sense of what we don't know we have made preparations for route finding through Holland using technologies contained within a mobile phone which can communicate with satellites so that it knows where it is on the surface of the earth and can also suggest a route to somewhere we might like to go. Without this functionality at least one of our bike panniers would have to be filled with paper maps of the country.

Strangely there are a couple of things we do plan to take, cycle helmets, that are only rarely seen in Holland, only 0.5% of cyclists wearing them. By wearing them ourselves we will stand out as being foreigners but we come from a culture which uses them, almost exclusively. The Dutch feel safe on their bikes. They have the lowest cycling fatality rate per kilometre in the world, largely because their country has made cycling a primary means of transport and gives cyclists priority over all other motorised vehicles. To experience this is one of the main reasons for us going there.

This final planning stage is probably the most stressful of all as we keep asking ourselves what we might have forgotten or what if this or that happens. So how about this one. Should I take a device that will allow me to continue writing this blog? As it happens I do have a tiny fold up keyboard, battery powered, that can connect to my phone using Bluetooth. Surely there is a tiny space somewhere in my panniers for this gadget.

Wildlife

The current popular opinion, if adverts and comments on social media are to be believed, is that a garden is a place that is managed or manicured, from end to end by the occupants of a house. Grass is allowed, or encouraged, to grow, but must be maintained at a certain length by regular trimming. The lawn mower is an essential tool for this, driven by petrol or by electricity (the days of pushing this device around by hand are long gone) and for most gardeners 'cutting the lawn' has become a weekly ritual. Invasive plants like dandelions or buttercups must be ripped out (or chemically poisoned) but the real horror is the dreaded moss. Chemical treatments abound for dealing with this plant no matter where it tries to grow and even if these are not your thing there are pages of guidance for eradicating it before it can overrun the garden. Around the 'lawn' (an area of soil-covered land planted with grass and other durable plants such as clover which are maintained at a short height) the edges must be trimmed neatly so that the growth does not intrude into the 'flower bed' that surrounds it, this being managed for other purposes such as for plants that are allowed (and expected) to produce blooms which can be cut off and displayed within the house.

If you have read this far then you may be thinking that we do not hold with the protocols described above. Yes, we do have a garden, an area of land outside the house, and yes, there is grass growing there in places.

There is also a healthy covering of moss, heather, reeds, daffodils and an assortment of plants I cannot name, scattered about in patches through which random shrubs poke out. Many years ago, before the house was built, the land here would have been forested. We know this because the tree stumps are still dotted about here and there with roots still buried in the soil. The result of this is that even though the trees are long gone the remnants of various forest dwelling plants are always trying to emerge into daylight. We find this fascinating. It is what we might call 'wild' but the important part for us is that is that the garden is largely unmanaged, despite this being totally at odds with the accepted definition of what should be done with a 'garden'. The lawn mower gets very little use. Maybe once a year it comes out of the shed but the uneven ground and the rocks randomly sticking out means it cannot go everywhere so often we simply don't bother.

We were delighted to discover that our unmanaged garden was attracting at least one nightly visitor, here captured on camera taking a stroll, and he has rather generously been leaving his droppings dotted around the garden. We don't complain if occasionally a fragment is stuck to the shoe when we come in from the garden.

These small black parcels do no harm, in fact they will probably add richness to the soil once they crumble away but there are places we would prefer the deer to avoid, like our fruit bush patch. We hope that the 'deer deterrent' fencing we have set up will have the desired effect. This is 'management' at a minimal level.

Other wildlife captured by the camera is somewhat smaller but sadly with such a fleeting glimpse as this we can only speculate on what it is.

Despite that lack of management from us the garden is not totally wild. We have raised beds in which we plant onions and garlic, a polytunnel for the more delicate herbs and for tomato plants to grow in and then there is the vegetable patch for the rhubarb and the potatoes. (Deer do not eat rhubarb.) Management of the whole garden consists of removing bramble shoots before they can get established and then trimming back any growth that seeks to flow over into the cultivated areas. Many would use the term 'weeds' for this and it is likely that most onlookers would use this term for the tall grass stems and the thick bed of moss that covers most of our garden. But a weed is a plant growing where it is unloved and unwanted. Everything growing in our garden is what we enjoy to look at and wander past.