Across the Netherlands

Leaving the warmth and comfort of Mike & Carolyn's lovely apartment was really hard and I procrastinated endlessly. Eventually managing to tear myself away, I was driven in large part by a desire not to appear foolish by chickening out at the last minute! But as soon as I was on the road I felt great.

Heading north from Amsterdam I quickly left the city behind and found myself riding along the top of grassy dykes, built to keep the sea at bay. First impressions of rural Holland are of a very domesticated landscape. It is perfectly flat of course, with the only slopes I've encountered thus far being slight rises up and over the numerous dykes. The land has been highly engineered and heavily farmed, until it seems there are no wild places left. But it has a lovely charm and is pretty in a placid, peaceful kind of way.

The camping so far has been exceptional. My first night was spent on a small dairyfarm near the coast. It was a friendly place and the familiar dairy smell, although a little overwhelming, reminded me of home. I've since stayed at a couple of 'nature camping' places, which are probably as close to a national park as you get in the Netherlands. More like an urban park, I was woken one morning by a fellow mowing the lawns, however they are green and peaceful. The highlight accommodation has been a beautiful mini-campground in north Friesland where I felt as though I'd been invited into someone's home. The manicured garden held only a handful of tentsites and the love and attention that had gone into creating the space was truly delightful. I relaxed that evening in a tastefully decorated lounge area, complete with gorgeous lamps and nice wooden furniture. There was even a cup of dice with scoring sheets for yahtzee if you felt so inclined. And all this for only €7 per night!

My chosen route took me from North Holland to Friesland via an amazing 30km dyke. Completed in 1932, it effectively turned what was once the Zuiderzee (a large shallow inlet of the North Sea) into an enormous freshwater lake. It is an engineering masterpiece, just wide enough for a freeway and bikepath and controlled at each end by huge pumps and sluice gates. The long exposed ride left me feeling hot and weary, but I was thankful to escape the infamous headwinds which would make the crossing a real epic.

Some days are better than others, and heading towards Groningen I experienced one of the latter. Having left my sense of direction behind, I kept riding round in circles getting more and more frustrated until I threw my bike down and burst into tears. Navigation requires constant attention in a region that is so densely populated, as there are roads going almost everywhere. I frequently stood bewildered at intersections when the village I was heading towards was signposted in both directions. The bike paths often follow the base of a dyke, and with a virtual wall on one side it can be difficult to get a sense of the lie of the land. Having said that, the network of long-distance cycle routes is absolutely incredible, and they tend to be extremely well signposted. Sometimes I chose to follow a marked trail just to give my head a break, but it makes me feel like I'm being channelled along a well-worn path, so I generally prefer to mix it up a bit and take roads and routes as I fancy.

Feeling sunburnt, tired and lonely I continued on my way, hoping only for a better day tomorrow. Until suddenly it seemed all my dreams had come at once when I stumbled upon Kanocentrum, a mini-camping place with kayak hire. Later that evening I went for a long paddle, exploring one of the major canals in Groningen province. It was a gorgeous golden afternoon and a perfect way to unwind as I observed the daily routines of life on the river. I just love being on the water! The kayak I'd hired was a bit of an old tub, but I enjoyed every moment and went to bed feeling happy and relaxed.

For some reason I naively thought that summer in Europe would be more like winter in Australia.. where did I get that idea from?? The days have been really long and HOT and although it's wonderful having so much daylight, I'm finding the long hours in full sun to be quite exhausting. The Dutch are revelling in it though, and people are wandering around in bikinis all over the place. On bikes, boats, even in balloons, they are enjoying the summer sunshine. I must admit I've been very lucky so far to have such beautiful weather.

My biggest challenge at the moment is coping with the sense of aloneness. The logistics of finding places to stay, buying groceries and asking for directions have all been easier than I expected, but the feeling of being an outsider in a foreign place has been a constant shadow. My Dutch is limited exclusively to roadside vocabulary, and the words for speedhump, electric-fence and cattlegrid are rather infrequent in casual conversation! So my communication beyond the very basic level is completely dependent on the expertise and willingness of other English speakers. I am grateful that both qualities are in common supply and the people have been friendly and helpful. But the nature of my journey means that encounters are necessarily brief, and we show only a passing interest in each other. Perhaps that sounds harsh, but travel is literally a means of passing through a place, so deep and meaningful encounters are a rare blessing I think. Or maybe I just haven't worked out the knack of it yet.

One of the nicest little connections I made was with the man selling fruit and vegies at a market stall in Harlingen. He was a smiley chap, and after making my purchase he placed a beautiful ripe apricot in my hand. It felt like such a special gift that I almost fell in love right then are there!


Yesterday, after almost 400km of riding through the Netherlands I crossed the border into Germany. It was a bit of an anticlimax really. There wasn't even a 'Welcome to Deutschland' sign, let alone anyone to stamp my passport! So far I've been greeted with busier roads and bigger, more hassly towns. I guess there are just a lot more people. Tonight I am camped at an incredibly ugly marina complex outside Leer, and it's just started to rain. So it's not the most favourable of first impressions, but hopefully we can improve upon that.