Week One Biking: The Netherlands

The Netherlands portion of my biking journey took just over a week. I took only one day off, in Rotterdam, and the others I biked between 35 and 80 kilometers depending on the day.

To start off with, I took the North Sea Route, which follows along the Western Coast of the Netherlands. It regularly linked to beaches, and was a beautiful undulating topography of scrub and dunes, with a smooth bike trail. Every so often the trail would be interrupted by a holiday town, full of places to eat and people looking to relax.

I decided pretty early on that I wasn't interested in this route, mainly because beaches and dunes I have seen, whereas the canals and villages of the interior of the Netherlands are much newer and more interesting to a New Zealander (or at least this New Zealander). 

I headed for a campground and hit my first rain in quite some time. However, it was pretty soothing to stay inside and read my book while the rain drummed tunes lightly upon the stretched canvas of my tent.

Turning inwards, I decided to make for Rotterdam. In Rotterdam, I found a lovely innercity campground. It was unusually affordable (6 Euros), and allowed me access into the city. I set up tent, my hammock, made dinner, and planned my visit into town for the next day.

Rotterdam was beautiful, and I meandered past canals, old windmills, wandered into galleries and museums, and generally explored the town. Late in the day I found a supermarket, got some groceries and had a picnic in the gardens of one of the museums. I was so lazy and so relaxed, that I made the first daisy chain since I was probably 10. Fantastic feeling to have absolutely nothing to do.

From Rotterdam, I went due south past Kinderdijk, an old milling area of the Netherlands. There are many windmills that remain, and a lovely network of trails. I'd long since stopped following the main routes, and was wandering my way via bike roads and marked intersections, to just using directional methods.

I really liked the beautiful vegetable gardens I found throughout this region. Who knew something productive and economic could look so beautiful.

From this area, I turned Westward again, and biked and ferried my way out onto Zeeland. I figured I needed to see the area from which my country was named for (the name Niew Zeeland comes up in Dutch cartography in the 17th century--from Abel Tasman's brief visit to our lands). True to life, as soon as I got into that coastal region, the grass seemed greener, the wind seemed windier, and sheep seemed to abound. Standard.

One thing was clearly different . . . roadside stands aren't a bucket with a lid and a hole for your money, and a pile of produce. The Dutch are tech savvy. I bought my tomatoes in the middle of nowhere, from a vending machine.

 This is the lovely meal I made for myself with the above tomatoes. Yum.

A beautiful and a lovely lovely place to ride. If anyone reading this does go, check the dominant wind directions and go the opposite way.

Neither here nor there.

Navigating through a landscape where you speak the language is tough enough. Navigating when signs are a mystery and people incomprehensible is a little more interesting. Luckily, having started in the Netherlands, bike signs were abundant and very easily decipherable. And in a tough spot, many people know English, and gesturing, English, mediocre French, and sporadic German seemed to convey enough to result in help to varying degrees of success.

In some places the bike lanes were well marked on the ground, especially so as to distinguish it from foot traffic and minimise opportunities for collisions.

Much of the Netherlands is a web of two kinds of bicycle lanes. One, major bike lanes, are actual marked routes (line data), the others, are a web of marked and numbered intersections (point data) with connecting possible routes. The first is much easier to navigate, and frequented by more people (allowing for a greater number of campsites and eating opportunities), the second is more likely to give a view of the "real" Netherlands, campsites are generally cheaper, and gives you more flexibility to vary your route as wind directions and sightseeing opportunities arise. I did a combination of the two, but found that the second was much more suited to my style of bike riding. However, on days when I wanted to cover more distance, it was nice to take the smoother, less interrupted major routes.

I used a combination of high and low-tech navigation tools. These consisted of my ipod touch with preloaded maps of Europe (and when internet was available, google maps), to physical maps, a small compass (so useful!) and on sunny days, the shadow put forth by my bicycle. I spent several days doing large chunks of distance solely based on direction (vaguely south west), as due to the flexibility of my schedule, it didn't really matter where I ended up from day to day, as long as at some point I put some kilometers behind me and ended up in Paris (which I did).

On days when I did plan, I would generally look for 2-3 campgrounds, One 40km away, another 50-60km, and the third 60-80km. Then, as the day progressed, I could see how long I wanted to be cycling, and where I would want to spend the night. It also gave me the flexibility to see a location and decide I didn't want to stay there, and move on to the next place.

Sticky situations arose when signs were less easy to see, or were nonexistent, but, really, the Netherlands was a dream. Navigation throughout Belgium was also pretty great, although signs were less well maintained, and major routes were less common, to France where I've had trouble finding information about bike routes, and have done much more road biking (please prove me wrong and point me in the right direction), not entirely less pleasant, as I see more of the towns than I did throughout the Netherlands, but definitely more vehicle traffic intensive.

Another problem I came across was seasonal options for crossing bodies of water. I added a full day's biking as one of the ferries noted on my map turned out to be only operational June through September. This meant a quick shuffle to find a new campsite, and a day's biking further along the coast to catch a bus through a tunnel underneath the channel. However, when there were ferries, they were so easy and cheap to use. Lovely.

I'm sure there will be more challenges, but the problem solving and adaptation of plans is part of the fun. Plus, it's like one gigantic orienteering adventure, and as a geography geek, that can only be a good thing. I won't get into the possible theses I see branching out before me (undergrads, apply here for ideas) . . . but suffice to say, the mind boggles at how interesting it is to use my brain to get from A to B (to Z) through different environments and multiple countries using different modes of transport and different navigation aides.

Day one of bicycling across three countries.

I would characterize my outlook at this point as optimistic. And more than a teensy bit worried. Can you tell?

So, I did what all enterprising people do and I delayed. I packed, I fooled around on the internet, I went to the supermarket, I purchased some different maps. I even went to an exhibit at the Franz Hals Museum in Haarlem (mum had said she wanted to go, so I couldn't leave without having seen it, now could I?). Brief overview... (I think I'm now orchestrating some grand double procrastination by procrastinating describing my first day cycling)... I love the technique/execution of the Dutch Masters, but, in general, I'm not enthused by their subjects. The aristocrats, bible stories, etc. However, the following are a selection that I *did* really like.

This particular painting was fun, because that building, the Town Hall in Haarlem's Market Square, is still there. I've stood in the spot that those people stood in 1671. Bizarre.

 I'm not going to lie, I kind of like this portion of the painting because that flag says "VROOM."

And this still life is so rich, it inspired some of my lunch choices at the supermarket.

Ok. Fine.

This is an essay of a kind every primary school kid has written a million times over. The first day of school. The jitters, the excitement, the preparation. And like the first day of school, the parents are there to send me off, and will be in Paris to receive me when the month is over, holding washing powder, band aids, and presumably enough food for an army--I really am 28, I swear.

After saying goodbye to the parents, I was solo again (fast forward through three hours of procrastination). I started off biking, and all was going well. I was belting out some tunes, or rather, singing the three lines I know of each song that came on from my ipod playlist and ruining the rest with whatever I wanted. I took pictures of fields, of myself, of myself and fields. I attempted to take candid timed photos of myself so that every photograph I take away from this trip isn't a semi-angled shot of aforementioned field or windmill with my face monstrously superimposed on the foreground. And, let's face it, to make it seem like I have some friends.

I cycled into my final destination, having decided on an ultra-leisurely 35 kms to start this trip (I have almost a whole month. Shush. Also, I was worried about actually being able to set up the tent I'd bought and not yet used. And, I'm not a cyclist. Sheesh). I arrived as the sun was getting low, and looked at a couple of campgrounds, not finding the exact one I wanted. Then--panic. I'd forgotten my camera back where I'd had lunch. 12km away (remember tranquil candid photograph? I did). I hopped on my bike, and cycled all the way back (it must be said, I did this same section in about a quarter of the time). It wasn't there. I got to know all of the neighbours of that particular canal frontage. I did some serious knocking, then scoped out the local police station--which was closed--and bunked down a little ways along the road by a canal (I couldn't be bothered biking back to where I'd planned, and it was getting dark). Some nice fishermen had set up there, too, so I was among friends. Albeit new friends. If only I'd had my camera to take a picture of the fact that I had friends. We chatted and watched the swans land for the night. Those things are loud! Especially when their landing is less than perfect.

All night, Michael's fish tripwire alert went off as he got "line swimmers" as he called them. To no success. Jared, you would have liked his fancy setup, I think. I heard later that the next day he caught two quite large carp. Luckily, as sleep is my minor superpower, I just went straight back to sleep each time.

At 5:30am I woke up, bathed in an orange/pink glow. Stumbling out of my tent I swore at myself for losing my camera on one of the most beautiful days I've ever seen. I snapped a couple of ipod shots, but they don't do it justice.

I then had coffee and breakfast with Michael. He fed an agressive swan *his* breakfast, and I got on my way. 12km later (again) I checked in at the camping grounds I'd gone to--just in case--and yes, there was my camera, safe and sound. Happy, but a little embarrassed, I then spent a euro on the best shower I've ever had (that lasted exactly five minutes before it shuts off) at the campground where I retrieved my camera.

Morals of the story? I'm really not sure. I had one of the best nights/mornings ever. Look after your belongings, don't let yourself get too cocky/excited, and embrace the unexpected, I guess.

They like to bike, you say?

The Netherlands is a little bit bike crazy. Just a little bit. It is absolutely wonderful to cycle here. You look in any direction and you can see someone on a bicycle.

However, some things to note. They are very casual about their biking--I was, and still am, just about the only person wearing a helmet... Give or take the puffs of smoke resembling people I see zooming past, that are probably actually athletes training for the olympics, and are undoubtedly sponsored by a helmet company (Linnea, was that you?!). See, even this guy wasn't wearing his helmet. What would his mother think?

Also, they generally have beater bikes with the biggest chains you've ever seen. This tells me that the bike theft problem is no joke. This leads me to the next point. Free inside parking! Amazing. This place was run by the city of Haarlem and was free during the day (.50 euro overnight). Absolutely wonderful to know that Hedgiflora was safe and warm inside before we started out on our journey :)

Dunedin Reunion!

On the second day of hanging out with mum and dad, we got to meet up with our lovely family friend, Rita, who happens to live just north of Haarlem in Driehuis. We decided to have a leisurely brunch and then get in more bike riding so as to ease me in to this whole exercise thing that I've not really been doing so much of lately. This in mind, we went for a trip through the dunes to the west of Haarlem and even got in a wee walk along the shore of the North Sea. The area is blustery, beautiful, and filled with people celebrating the end of another winter. Just to clarify... while the long brown pants may have been dad's clothing of choice regardless, he *had* had his suitcase lost on the flight over, and at this point hadn't received it from the airline. I just feel like he and his attire need a little defending :)

Along the way there were Highland Cattle. On the flat coast of the Netherlands? What? Apparently these have been introduced to keep down an invasive species of plants. I hope that this is the one and only time this practice has actually worked, and that these creatures aren't going to multiply uncontrollably or undermine this particular ecosystem à la the cane toads. Oh the cane toads. Jo Galletly, I thought you'd appreciate this one. No, I didn't get to ride one (the highland cattle, not the cane toads--although I don't think it's possible to ride one of those).

We wished Andrew and Hester could be with us to complete the family fun. Hmmm... time to plan where that reunion could be...

Timing is everything!

Due to an early warm patch throughout Europe, springtime came early to the Netherlands. I missed <giant sad face> the big fields of tulips grown commercially for bulbs. There were remnants here and there, but that only served to reinforce my desire to see them someday. Luckily, there are many more opportunities for this, and it's good to have these things to look forward to. The following are the patches I saw here and there. Most had already been decapitated (when growing for bulbs, the flower is beheaded early on so the bulb will get more nutrients).

However, some gardens were still in bloom, and the parents (we overlapped here for two days as we travelled in different directions--so nice!) and I rode our bikes 40km round trip to see some of the best. I still got to use my tulip wow-face. The ride itself was beautiful (especially on the way there as we followed canal paths).

The gardens we visited are called Kukenhof, and are full of tulips. They also had amazing azaleas that were blooming perfectly for us.

I like this last picture, because I think that the people look like tulips popping up out of the ground. Beautiful.