The next 265 miles took me down the Netherlands, zig-zagging across Belgium, and then briefly through the Netherlands again, for my first taste of European touring.
This chapter is about cultural differences, a critical analysis of cyclepaths, pretty quaint towns with steeples at their centers. Two Texans, a Bulgarian; the ride shared, a city come to life as my path coincided. Ridiculously good beer. Places i’d not been before, people i’d never met before: places I hope to visit again and people who will always have a place to stay wherever i’m living. Cheers Europe, so far so good!
As the ferry pulled in to IJmuiden, I was on the top deck to get a first look at the place. That first look showed me grey and smog and industrial sprawl.
I met two fascinating groups of cyclists down on the car deck. First I met two German tourists who’d been visiting their daughter in Glasgow. They had three days to get home. They were riding this recumbent tandem, with independently driven wheels. Apparently they took it in turns sometimes! With the aerodynamic position and four (powerful looking) cylinders, I bet they were about the quickest cycle tourists in Europe.
So when I was passing through Aviemore last year, I happened to see Danny Macaskill, a pretty famous trials rider, hopping about on a bench. I’d checked my bike into the shop where I bought it for a tuneup, and when I mentioned Danny to the bike shop guys, they weren’t surprised - he used to work at the shop before he made it as a rider! If you aren’t familiar, Youtube him: he has some great videos shot over Scotland.
It just so happened that he and his crew were on the same ferry, headed to a show in Switzerland. They’re pretty cool and laid back, and Danny emerged from the back of their RV to say hi and shake my hand.
As I emerged onto Dutch roads, riding on the right didn’t seem too weird, until I got to a roundabout. Danny’s crew honked and waved as I crossed a road towards Haarlem. This picture shows some of the Netherlands’ truly brilliant cycle infrastructure: a weird complicated bike intersection pasted on top of the normal road layout. I like this picture, because there’s also a windmill in the background. Stereotype fulfilled.
Haarlem was pretty, and started what was to become quite a pattern of quaint, attractive towns with church steeples at their centers. I’d considered staying the day there and easing myself into Europe gently, however straight off the boat I was finding the busy cycling, the language barrier, the navigation, the ‘newness’ a little overwhelming. And the few miles i’d done into Haarlem were really nice riding - i’d been watching other cyclists to pick up the etiquette. So I decided to get straight onto the road (or rather, the cyclepath - this isn’t Britain).
“As I headed south, I gradually worked my way nearer to the coast. I passed through one village where i stopped for a look around, and to buy food - I was wanting to make myself able to be self sufficient for at least a day, and hence free to explore without worry. People were friendly, and compared to Amsterdam, the places I stopped were relaxed and pleasant. The Dutch seem to have a way of just getting on with themselves and not caring about too much.”
Right, Britain take note. This is what a cyclepath looks like. This is LF1, an absolutely amazing blast of a trail through dunes and along the coast. This strip of tarmac is the best cyclepath i’ve ever ridden, bar none. It twists and winds through very quickly (well, perhaps a tailwind helped).
Britain, if you create good paths, you will get families out for a casual roller-skate.
“I initially had some trouble getting the right route, but then I stopped trying to find particular roads, and started using Google maps to orient myself along with signs to get about. All the roads are brilliant to cycle on. Everywhere that could be busy enough to need it seems to have a cyclepath. (…) The cars are courteous, and give way for cyclists all the time. There’s no sorta default animosity between cyclists and drivers like there is in Britain.”
I deliberated two campsites near the coast, but then decided to head inland to see Den Haag. There was another campsite near Delft anyway.
“This is an impressive, modern city with lots of the feel of London to it. A centre for business, it’s also got a Chinatown and a more grimy feel than i’d expected after hearing that it’s the business capital. In one main historic square, policemen on bikes were all about, and there was a 4x4 with some very heavily armed guards about. Some kind of diplomatic event on I think. Or maybe it’s just high alert after Brussels.”
This picture hopefully captures some of the busy, bustling, yet quirky and weird (in a Dutch way) feel of the place.
More brilliant quick cyclepaths took me to Delft, a very different place. I first found the campsite, but was shocked to find that i’d made a mistake in interpreting the Dutch camping app i’d downloaded. Basistarief Laagseizoen at €24 can’t possibly mean a pitch, right? Volwassententarief at €3.50 seems unusually cheap, but much more believable than €24 - i’d been paying less for hostels. Nope. Ikea to the rescue - using their Wifi, I found a hostel in town for barely more than the cost of a patch of grass.
Anyway… “Delft is a really lovely place. It’s attractive and pleasant, and feels safe. People are particularly smily, and those who i’ve chatted to have been lovely. The ride in took me alongside little canals, across quaint little bridges, that sort of thing. The central square is really impressive, with a good old church to show off.”
Amongst its kind.
Pretty cool, cultural, studenty feeling place. I could stay here a while.
“I lazed my way out of Delft, a little reluctant to leave so soon. Once on the road, it was nice going of course. Combined urban and countryside paths, as was the case for most of the day. Made quick work of the 10km to Rotterdam. On the way along a canal, I saw a bridge for cyclists over the canal open to allow a barge through - very Dutch.”
Rotterdam immediately seemed modern, and more cool than quaint.
“I headed for the VVV (tourist info) where a really friendly guy advised me of a few places to visit - he didn’t really manage to enthuse me about Rotterdam though. He was helpful and enthusiastic about the cycle touring, and gave me some route advice.”
I do like good cartography. They had this city in miniature at the VVV. (Does that count as cartography?)
Chips with special chip-mayo. I’d have taken a better picture, but I was busy eating them.
Cube houses. Why not?
“It [Rotterdam] is nice, feels diverse and cool, but not all that interesting as far as i’m aware. I didn’t stay for long.”
“I experienced huge motorways and intersections, and cyclepaths weaving beautifully in and out. A massive roundabout had a cycle lane with traffic lights all around. I mainly stayed close to the main roads, on nice quick paths but without much beautiful scenery, to Dordrecht.”
“Here, I saw from the pdf i’d saved that LF2 passed through, and I was fancying a smoother and more scenic ride. But how to find it? Feeling a little stressed in the hot sun, I caught some shade in a pleasant little side street. I found open wifi courtesy of a shoe shop down the road, so I sat and planned. I downloaded a GPX file of LF2, but also had to download a file manager program and Google about, but finally I had it running with Osmand! Off I went, over a big bridge, and i’d found it. I followed the signs a while through twisty suburbia, and it was nice to have a path prescribed. Just once or twice leaving the city I had to get the phone out, but with the GPX playing nice, it was trivial to check my way.”
“Out of the town, LF2 took me through country farm fields and busy nature reserves. Lots of other cyclists about including plenty of sporty ones, and I even got stuck behind two inline skaters for a bit. it wasn’t much further before I was dismayed to see that part of the route was closed for some works. Never mind… I found a diversion and followed along twisty paths through flat fields, onto a raised path, maybe an old railway? This took me to a long straight road, where I rejoined LF2. From here, it was alongside motorway, off into country, through little villages. Nice route, but nowhere near as quick and direct as LF1, nor so picturesque.”
“I decided after a while to ditch it for some proper mile-burning, as it was getting late, i’d not done too many miles, and I still had no idea where to stay. LF2 had bypassed me around some of the bigger cities. Around Zevenbergen I found my way onto a path alongside a big motorway, which would take me to Roosendaal and then Belgium. I followed this for a while, good quick miles and fun cycling. Pretty quiet paths. I worried a little about where to stay though.”
“I had open a page with the coordinates of pole camping [free, legal ‘wild’camping] sites - this wasn’t all that helpful, but I figured there was one near Schijf, which Google told me was not too far. I left the motorway, and before I could pick my way into Oudenbosch I was stopped by a food van, where I got schwarma (really tasty and just what I needed to keep me going) and chatted to the locals about cycling. One lady stayed at the campsite across the road and told me I should camp there. I was tempted, but still had some going left in me, and didn’t fancy paying.”
A small town with pretty spires at its center.
The Netherlands aren’t dramatic like Scotland, and they seem to have a more down-to-earth, practical feel. Yet, there’s a quirky kind of beauty, and plenty of style about when the Dutch put their minds to it and allow themselves a little rare pretension.
“Passing a hotel, I stopped and was pleased to find myself on their wifi! Less pleased to see that the nearest pole camping site was twice as far as i’d thought, and the coordinates 9km away i’d been following were just errant coordinates that had found their way into Google. This would have me arriving just about 8pm or sundown. However, it would take me right up to the border, which is pretty cool. I went for it.”
Very flat country, this.
“Through into the forest, and I found it, no trouble. There I also found Chad and Ellen, who were pleased to see me, and I them! Two Texans riding a tandem they’d bought in England, they were pleasant and welcoming, and were just getting a fire going. I put up my tent and chilled with a beer, then we all got to cooking and shared our food. I made [road-soup, as per Jonny’s advice], which turned out very nice. They gave me some leek soup, and a breaded ham steak which they’d got from a market. They are fascinating people - she’s a flight instructor, he a programmer working for a static analysis small company, and font of all knowledge. We chatted about coding, religious, plenty about touring, history.”
“We went and had a look at Belgium, just 0.35 miles away as it was. Apparently hawks have sex while in free fall.”
Pictured: a different country.
“Woke to a beautiful morning, and C&E already up and feasted despite their claims that they are lazy. While we packed up camp and discussed routes, I mentioned my plan to head to the Westmalle abbey and see if it is possible to look around, and they decided to ride with me a while. … finally loading up our bikes, them with the big heavy tandem, loaded up high like a packmule, and pushed the bikes to the road. We set off into the sun, along nice Dutch roads, for just a quick way, before the roads turned Belgian. The cyclepath was instantly a little less good, and suddenly there were super-serious roadies in swimsuits shooting about.”
Belgium heeted us welkom.
Belgium felt quite different to the Netherlands. For one thing, is was quite obviously a religious place. This is a little shrine thing, just on a corner in the middle of nowhere. There were plenty of them, mostly dedicated to Mary I think.
“The cyclepaths were good, but not quite as good. The people weren’t unfriendly, but sorta shy when you don’t know them. The placenames were all quite different. Once we were onto bigger roads, we found cyclepaths to the side that got the miles going fast. Cycling with C&E on their tandem was quite an experience - there was little wind, flat roads, and good paths, so it was quick going anyway, but neither of us wanted to be the ‘slow boat’ so we pulled a really impressive pace.”
Lots of really straight roads here.
This is the Westmalle abbey, where Trappist monks brew really amazing beer. Unfortunately, they were busy being monks so we couldn’t go tourist about inside. Fair enough.
“A very fancy cafe across the road was full of locals, and served expensive trappist themed food, and relatively cheap trappist beer. As we were getting back on the bikes, a group of locals rode up (they were going for a drink) and chatted to us about the tour. The tandem got a lot of attention, and we were very clearly a group of vagrant nomadic types. They were very friendly, and wished us well for the tour. Good first impression, Belgium!””
Heading towards Antwerp, we passed this. It’s a circus and Geocaching shop, selling all sorts of unicycles and Geocaching equipment. Weird, and very cool! Apparently Geocaching is quite a big thing in Belgium.
“C&E were planning on heading west through Antwerp, and I was planning on going south east at some point. We found the location of a pole-camping site to the east, thought a little - they decided that they could take or leave Antwerp, and were pretty keen on my brewery-hunt, so we all decided to head together to this pole camp site near Westerlo. We stocked up food at a big weird supermarket (that seemed kinda warehousy, not much like British supermarkets), and decided to pick up some beers, so C&E could try trappist beer even if we didn’t find anywhere else to get it.”
A little quaint town with a steeple at its center.
This is Ellen buying bread from a ‘broodautomat’, a vending machine for bread. They seemed to be in all of the villages.
“After weaving through a little town, we hit a canal with a cyclepath most of the way, and got going. The canal was more of a big river, and it had an excellent smooth straight cyclepath alongside it, clearly popular. We made speedy progress, and had many miles behind us by early afternoon.”
Man, this cyclepath was awesome. Much more interesting than the picture suggests.
Lovely little campsite found. Expert set to work. We got all set up with food and fire and Trappist beer. “Turns out Chad is an excellent harmonica player.”
A little ultimate frisbee in the morning, beneath the trees.
“The sun was really baking today, and the total distance of 20 miles was enough for us to feel it. While Ellen was loving the heat, Midwestern Chad and I the Brit were suffering a bit. Chad got dressed up very strange looking, a little lederhosen-esque. I inspected the suntan gradient at the t-shirt sleeve. Getting impressive already.”
Chad deals with the heat.
Soundtrack: Kyuss - Blues for the Red Sun
This windmill says ‘molen’. Isn’t ‘molen’ the word for windmill? Isn’t that a bit redundant?
We’d met a Belgian cycle tourist called Christoph the night before, who’d done 130km and rather put us to shame. He’d recommended that we visit Leuven, a little university city, a bit closer than Brussels.
“…the industrial outskirts gave way to pretty old buildings and pleasant, tourist-friendly quaintness. Big impressive cathedrals loomed over a sunny square lined with cafe-goers, and Chad and I got the cameras out for some tourist action. We had a little wander, then decided to get a celebratory pizza to commemorate the ride. Apparently this is an American thing.”
Fancy place. Very pretty.
We fit in perfectly of course.
In Leuven, I said goodbye to Chad and Ellen after two days riding and camping together. I checked myself into a hostel to refresh before pushing east, and they went south to camp while they could use the polecamping sites (or bivakzones in Belgium).
Leuven is a strange, cool place.
It has this ‘Grand Beguinage’, a ‘place of silence and rest’. Founded in 1232 by some kind of women’s religious order, it’s now the property of the university, and is used as accomodation and offices. It’s a really beautiful and enchanting town within a town that I stumbled upon by accident.
In the evening, I went out to a local metal bar, where I chatted to the bartender and another regular type. Unfortunately i’d missed a doom gig that had been on that night.
At the hostel, I got some rest, did some laundry, caught up on the internet. That sort of thing. I also signed up to Couchsurfing, as Chad and Ellen had had some good experiences with it. I absentmindedly sent a request to stay with someone who sounded cool in Maastricht, a reasonable target for tomorrow. When I woke, I was surprised to find the request accepted! So I loaded the bike in drizzling grey rain with a definite place to go.
“Leaving Leuven wasn’t too eventful. A local commented on the drizzle as I loaded the bike, saying it’s much more like typical Belgian weather. (Ah, complaining about the weather, a truly global pastime.) I found a couple of nice squares and statues I hadn’t seen before, and took a few photos. Was a little surprised at how quickly I was on the N3 heading out - little city after all!”
The ride was good and consistent. Not the most picturesque, but the long straight road had a good cyclepath, and was dotted with villages at just the right intervals to give me stuff to see.
What’s this Belgium, a hill?
Pretty little town with several steeples at its centre. Except this one was mostly being dug up.
Same town, more steeples. Extra steeply!
A miniature of the old ruined abbey in the background, the bike, a local hanging about drinking energy drinks, and the abbey itself. Kinda like this picture.
“Anyway, onwards. Borgloon came upon me much the same as the previous cities had, except with the excitement of a Geocache along the way. As the landscape turned more rolling and green, I spotted a sort of bird box thing with the Geocaching logo painted on, and turned around to investigate. A puzzle cache - a magnet had to be used to negotiate a tag inside the box over to the opening, where it could be pulled through revealing an aluminium tag stamped with the code to a combi lock, which opened the box bolted underneath the bird box, which revealed a little ammo tin with the log. My first continental Geocache, and a cool one!”
“At Borgloon, I received a text from Aleks, confirming my welcome and asking after progress. Since progress was so good, I followed Google’s suggestion and left the main road for a marked cycle track through the country. Great decision! This took me through idyllic rolling fields, pastures of funny little trees (harvesting flowers of some sort I think), along a nice quick strip of tarmac. Then through a string of the quaintest little Belgian villages, each with a church at the centre.”
Presented without comment.
The day really cleared up.
More a tower than a spire, I guess? Statue to make up the lost quaintness. Lots of Roman history around here, it seems.
“I stopped at a Carrefour on the way out, where I was quite dismayed at the ridiculously low price of ridiculously good Belgian beers.”
“The rest of the journey was a little precarious as I was so loaded down with beer, and some gentle hills slowed me down a bit. But, sooner than I expected, I crossed the huge canal (St Albert or something?) and entered the Netherlands. I wound through little streets on the brilliant (like, really brilliant) Dutch cyclepaths, into a quiet, reasonably nice little suburb, to knock on the door of a little studenty house. This was about 6pm, in glorious sunshine.”
Aleks is a Bulgarian student on a year abroad from England, studying law but hoping to go into space law (she’s really into astro, but apparently no good at maths). She made me feel really welcome and at ease. We cycled into Maastricht proper where I got a personal tour of the city.
“Maastricht is an overwhelmingly lovely town, full of old buildings, big squares, quirky statues, little canals, lots of cobbled streets. Though the university is only a few decades old, it’s housed in much older buildings. Some of the very old city wall still stands, and Aleks shows me the ancient gatehouse.”
“Outside of the walls (in hel), we scoot down into a grassy park full of studenty types lounging about, drinking beers, listening to electronic music, next to a pretty lake with a fountain, set beneath the impressive walls which are made to look almost romantic by the trees growing and people strolling.”
Here, we hung out with some of Aleks’ friends on the grass, drank Belgian beer and ate Thai food. If you know me at all well, you’ll know that i’m a big fan of this combination!
After a stop at the flat one one of the friends, Aleks took me to the coolest, weirdest, most memorable, best beer bar i’ve ever been to. Now here’s a bit of a story. Abridged version:
“It’s run by an old Dutch couple, has been going since the ‘80s, and rather than ordering, one of the couple asks what your taste is today, and selects a beer for you, probably a fascinating little Belgian brew from an abbey that you’ve never heard of. (…) The old bald guy with round glasses, and a white shirt over his round belly that gives a pretty ‘lab coat’ vibe explains to us that in a pub with tables, we should sit at the tables and he will come to us. He’s quite a character - absolutely brilliant. This is quite unlike any bar i’ve been to before. The walls are plastered with bottle caps, and posters from all sorts of Belgian breweries, some i’ve heard of, some otherwise. He comes to our table, and asks me what my taste is. He’s friendly but quite intimidating, and clearly has opinions to go with the act. I say some stuff about malt and yeast… “No, what’s your taste?” “Errr…. A little bitter I guess” “Mouth or throat bitter” “Mouth…” Okay, and he moves on to Aleks. Once he’s got our tastes, he puts a basket of peanuts in front of us, and tells us to throw the shells on the floor - if that’s too much trouble, we’re to put them in our pockets and take them home to make a mess. Apparently they have no cleaners, and it’s easier for them to just sweep the floor every night. Also, if there’s lots of sweeping to do, it’s been a good night, and if there isn’t, at least there isn’t much sweeping to do. There’s already a bunch of shells on the floor next to the bar. The place has quite the vibe.”
“He places two plain white beer mats in front of us, and walks back with two different glasses. Pours each beer and places it in front of each of us in turn, allows us to taste, and then gives us the bottle. Mine is an Ezel brown, a truly delicious, smooth beer that exactly fits the description of slightly mouth-bitter, and seems more like exactly what I wanted than I possibly could have described. Aleks’ is a St Louis Premium Lambic, which is pretty sour but in a more complex and pleasant way than any other lambic i’ve tried. Damn, i’m impressed. (…) these are some spectacularly good beers.”
We had another beer here, but i’ll leave some of the story to tell some other time.
The next day started with a feast of a Bulgarian-style breakfast, which was delicious. I wasn’t expecting to experience any of Bulgarian culture quite so early on the tour! Following a diversion to see the blues bar that Aleks is keen on (and I can see why!), I finally get moving and say goodbye to Maastricht.
The drizzle and drear burnt off quickly to blazing sun, but it was slow going and I didn’t really find my rhythm that day.
“Time seems to be slipping past quick, as the challenge of finding a pitch before dark weighs on me. After a quick stop to look for another water bottle, the front hub is making a regular clicking sound, and I notice the rubber seal is moving in jerks with each revolution. Fearing a damaged axle, I stop and struggle to remove the front wheel to have a look. Everything spins freely once it’s out, and the axle seems fine, yet the sound persists. Furthermore, once i’ve got the wheel bolted back in, the brakes are rubbing slightly. Never mind.. I’ll have a proper look tomorrow, gotta get to a place to camp tonight.”
This is where they make Gulpener beer.
“I’m feeling a little agitated and unenthused with the journey, but ahead of me, about the distance I can expect to make before dark if i’m quick, is the Drielandenpunt, the point where the Netherlands, Germany, and Belgium meet. The maps show me woodlands all around this point, and there’s woods already to each side of the roads, so i’m reasonably confident of finding a spot. As usual through, my standards have been slipping gradually from ‘tent up two hours before dark’ to ‘spot found before dark’. Up and down many long shallow hills, my average speed is low but the top speed is higher than it has been since Britain. Overall, i’m making pretty decent progress, and reach the big hill with the threelandspoint with a little space between sun and horizon. I crank slowly up twisty hill roads between trees, yet still quite close to the urban areas of the town below. After a few slow switchbacks with the bike feeling sluggish and drag-y, I spot a track barrier’d off from the road, and roll down it.”
Really like this photo. If you look, there’s the bike, the tent, and the stove on and cooking some tasty road soup.
The next day, ready to go. I had that beer with my food last night, it’s a leftover from the night before that - really damn tasty. Sorry Germany but i’ll miss the Belgian beer.
“I pushed across the grassy field to find the touristy bit with a labyrinth, car parks, outdoor bars, refreshment stands, all that jazz. Pretty much exactly how i’d imagined actually, except on more of a hill. First I spot the very regal ‘highest point of the Netherlands’. Cute. Then it takes me some looking to find the ceremonial stone post marking the point at which three borders meet. It’s just a little post set in a concrete circle, with lines showing the borders, and benches about. I cycle around three times anticlockwise, then lose track of how many times i’ve been in each country as I first go to take a picture, then lean my bike up halfway in Belgium, halfway in Germany, to have a look at the front hub which has been giving me cause for concern.”
So that’s the first two European countries down. If you’ve got this far, thanks for reading. The road goes ever on and stuff, so i’m going to get some sleep before leaving the Rhine and setting off into Germany tomorrow. Goodnight!