Cycling Western Europe
Day 3: July 1, 2007 (Den Haag to Arnhem, NL)
Route: Den Haag - Gouda - Utrecht - Arnhem
Weather: cloudy (AM); partly cloudy (PM)
Total mileage: 105 miles
Today's saving graces: random old men, church steeples, my compass, and other cyclists.
Yes, that would be the same "Gouda" as the famous cheese. And that is exactly what I did on my way through: had some cheese. A 3-cheese sandwich actually. Gouda was my first stop on the way to one of the NL's eastern cities, Arnhem (located in the Gelderland province near the western German border. I wasn't sure I would be able to make it all the way, but I figured I would try to get half way to Utrecht and then make a decision.
After a rather rough night of getting locked out of the hostel and having to bang on the windows to wake someone up (apparently there is a midnight curfew, which I didn't know about), the day began slow: gray, rainy, and chilly. Not ideal riding weather, but at this point I have come to expect dreary skies. I could either wuss out and take the train or suck it up and get on the bike; I chose the latter, of course. I didn't come here to carry my bike around on trains and spend money. My choice proved to be a good one, because about an hour and a half into my trip (once I had gotten into Gouda and had lunch), the skies cleared. I was out in the town square cleaning off my bike (it was caked in mud, sand, and water from the morning's ride) when suddenly the clouds broke and the sun came out. Amazing how that just happens. For the rest of the day, then, there wasn't a rain cloud in sight all the way east.
Riding into Gouda from Den Haag was easy. I followed the trusty cycling road signs all the way, weaving in and out of small, rural villages and farms. I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings in the beginning, because I was too concerned with staying warm and dry; yet, I managed to snap a few shots of the lovely scenery and buildings. After lunch, however, I had some trouble making my way east to Utrecht. The city, located in the center of the country (and in the Utrecht province), is about thiry miles from Gouda. Well, it took me forty, because I kept missing road signs and finding myself on narrow country roads leading to nowhere. Mind you, one cannot actually "get lost" in NL, per se, but it isn't hard to spend hours winding in and out of the small farm towns. At one intersection, the sign pointed to the left for Utrecht, but there was a wall, which was thoroughly confusing. I ended up stopping an old man who was cycling through to ask directions. He pointed me in the right direction, and I was off again. I realized this was a better tactic than trying to maneuver my way through the middle of no where; and so, made it a point to consult random old men along the way.
In one town, outside of Utrecht on the way to Arnhem, I found myself speaking in half Dutch, half English to a little old gentleman on a scooter. "Do you speak Dutch?" he asked (in Dutch, of course). "No, sorry," I said. We then proceeded to talk primary using gestures. "You want to get to Arnhem? (laugh, laugh) Go straight, turn right at the stop light, and then go straight for a really long time," was what I figured he said. Prior to speaking with him, I had been using my compass to navigate the way east. At one point, after making a few wrong turns, I decided to give up on trying to guess which towns were between Utrecht and Arnhem (there aren't actually signs for the towns and cities on many of the small roads until you are about ten or twenty miles outside of them). I had lost the main road out of Utrecht into Arnhem; and so figured as long as I was going east or southeast I would find it eventually. Sounds crazy, I know. Like I said, though, it is difficult to actually get lost in NL. I wasn't worried about that, just frustrated that I was probably riding longer than I needed to be. The compass and church steeples became my guides. I would check periodally that I was headed in the right direction (or watch the sun) and look for a church steeple to find my way into the next town. That proved to worked for most of the trip. Man, I am becoming an experienced world traveller! Maybe I'll be the next "Man Against Wild" or "Woman Against Wild."
The main miracles of the day were meeting up with other cyclists. On my way into Utrecht, a male rider came speeding by me at about 20 miles per hour. I had been cruising along at a slow pace, admiring the scenery, wishing someone were here to acompany me, when this guy flew by. A perfect opportunity to make up some time and distance, I thought; so I caught up to him and "jumped on" his wheel (which means I got up close behind him and stayed right near the back of his bike). In cycling, this is called "drafting" and many people get annoyed when you do this to them (unless it's in a road race, where it is allowed--it is illegal in triathlons, though). About five miles down the road, he stopped and asked where I was headed. "To Utrecht," I said with my terrible Dutch accent. "I am headed that way, too," he replied. He said I could follow him; and so for the next twenty-some-odd miles we sped through the surrounding towns and villages toward the city. It was great to have someone to ride with, but the pace proved to be a bit taxing with a backpack and waist bag weighing me down. I felt my body struggling to hold on and my legs burning to keep up, but I wanted to push myself so that I could make it into Arnhem by nightfall.
We rode together through a national park and forest on the outskirts of Utrecht, where my new friend had to turn off to meet someone. "If you are ever in Leiden, please let me know," Bas (short for Sebastian) said. "Of course. And if you are ever in Chicago, do the same," I replied. We exchanged email addresses and parted. I was back on my own for the next forty miles or so to Arnhem. As luck would have it, though, I met a cycling couple on their way into the city a few hours later just as I was wondering how I would find my way to the hostel. Elizabeth and Yell (short for Daniel) had been riding all day as well, and were making their way home to a small town on the east side of Arnhem. They had to cut through the city, though, which prompted our meeting. They offered to detour from their route once we had gotten into town and take me to the hostel, because it is located in the north corner of the city. There is such a cycling community here and people are so helpful!
Elizabeth and Yell told me about their cycling travels in Portugal, Italy, and the US. I told them about mine in Japan and thus far in England and NL. It was both wonderful and inspiring to hear about this couple's adventures on their bikes and the places they had been. I couldn't help but keep picturing Chris and me doing the same thing together. We rode through the towns surrounding Arnhem and into the city, and zig-zagging along the cycling paths that line the main roads. They showed me the city centre, the station, and a beautiful park situated in the middle of everything (a little like Central Park). Finally, we reached the hostel, which is located in the woods along the outer limits of Arnhem. It was such a relief to know that I had made it, and food was not far away. I said good-bye to my riding companions and made my way to the nearest restaurant. After 105 miles and 7 hours of riding, I opted for a falafel restaurant (one of the only places that was still open at 9pm). It's so good to sit down to a big meal after a day of riding.
Tomorrow: it's off to Maastricht in south NL near the Belgium and German borders. I hope this great weather holds up.
Day 3: July 1, 2007 (Den Haag to Arnhem, NL)
Route: Den Haag - Gouda - Utrecht - Arnhem
Weather: cloudy (AM); partly cloudy (PM)
Total mileage: 105 miles
Today's saving graces: random old men, church steeples, my compass, and other cyclists.
Yes, that would be the same "Gouda" as the famous cheese. And that is exactly what I did on my way through: had some cheese. A 3-cheese sandwich actually. Gouda was my first stop on the way to one of the NL's eastern cities, Arnhem (located in the Gelderland province near the western German border. I wasn't sure I would be able to make it all the way, but I figured I would try to get half way to Utrecht and then make a decision.
After a rather rough night of getting locked out of the hostel and having to bang on the windows to wake someone up (apparently there is a midnight curfew, which I didn't know about), the day began slow: gray, rainy, and chilly. Not ideal riding weather, but at this point I have come to expect dreary skies. I could either wuss out and take the train or suck it up and get on the bike; I chose the latter, of course. I didn't come here to carry my bike around on trains and spend money. My choice proved to be a good one, because about an hour and a half into my trip (once I had gotten into Gouda and had lunch), the skies cleared. I was out in the town square cleaning off my bike (it was caked in mud, sand, and water from the morning's ride) when suddenly the clouds broke and the sun came out. Amazing how that just happens. For the rest of the day, then, there wasn't a rain cloud in sight all the way east.
Riding into Gouda from Den Haag was easy. I followed the trusty cycling road signs all the way, weaving in and out of small, rural villages and farms. I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings in the beginning, because I was too concerned with staying warm and dry; yet, I managed to snap a few shots of the lovely scenery and buildings. After lunch, however, I had some trouble making my way east to Utrecht. The city, located in the center of the country (and in the Utrecht province), is about thiry miles from Gouda. Well, it took me forty, because I kept missing road signs and finding myself on narrow country roads leading to nowhere. Mind you, one cannot actually "get lost" in NL, per se, but it isn't hard to spend hours winding in and out of the small farm towns. At one intersection, the sign pointed to the left for Utrecht, but there was a wall, which was thoroughly confusing. I ended up stopping an old man who was cycling through to ask directions. He pointed me in the right direction, and I was off again. I realized this was a better tactic than trying to maneuver my way through the middle of no where; and so, made it a point to consult random old men along the way.
In one town, outside of Utrecht on the way to Arnhem, I found myself speaking in half Dutch, half English to a little old gentleman on a scooter. "Do you speak Dutch?" he asked (in Dutch, of course). "No, sorry," I said. We then proceeded to talk primary using gestures. "You want to get to Arnhem? (laugh, laugh) Go straight, turn right at the stop light, and then go straight for a really long time," was what I figured he said. Prior to speaking with him, I had been using my compass to navigate the way east. At one point, after making a few wrong turns, I decided to give up on trying to guess which towns were between Utrecht and Arnhem (there aren't actually signs for the towns and cities on many of the small roads until you are about ten or twenty miles outside of them). I had lost the main road out of Utrecht into Arnhem; and so figured as long as I was going east or southeast I would find it eventually. Sounds crazy, I know. Like I said, though, it is difficult to actually get lost in NL. I wasn't worried about that, just frustrated that I was probably riding longer than I needed to be. The compass and church steeples became my guides. I would check periodally that I was headed in the right direction (or watch the sun) and look for a church steeple to find my way into the next town. That proved to worked for most of the trip. Man, I am becoming an experienced world traveller! Maybe I'll be the next "Man Against Wild" or "Woman Against Wild."
The main miracles of the day were meeting up with other cyclists. On my way into Utrecht, a male rider came speeding by me at about 20 miles per hour. I had been cruising along at a slow pace, admiring the scenery, wishing someone were here to acompany me, when this guy flew by. A perfect opportunity to make up some time and distance, I thought; so I caught up to him and "jumped on" his wheel (which means I got up close behind him and stayed right near the back of his bike). In cycling, this is called "drafting" and many people get annoyed when you do this to them (unless it's in a road race, where it is allowed--it is illegal in triathlons, though). About five miles down the road, he stopped and asked where I was headed. "To Utrecht," I said with my terrible Dutch accent. "I am headed that way, too," he replied. He said I could follow him; and so for the next twenty-some-odd miles we sped through the surrounding towns and villages toward the city. It was great to have someone to ride with, but the pace proved to be a bit taxing with a backpack and waist bag weighing me down. I felt my body struggling to hold on and my legs burning to keep up, but I wanted to push myself so that I could make it into Arnhem by nightfall.
We rode together through a national park and forest on the outskirts of Utrecht, where my new friend had to turn off to meet someone. "If you are ever in Leiden, please let me know," Bas (short for Sebastian) said. "Of course. And if you are ever in Chicago, do the same," I replied. We exchanged email addresses and parted. I was back on my own for the next forty miles or so to Arnhem. As luck would have it, though, I met a cycling couple on their way into the city a few hours later just as I was wondering how I would find my way to the hostel. Elizabeth and Yell (short for Daniel) had been riding all day as well, and were making their way home to a small town on the east side of Arnhem. They had to cut through the city, though, which prompted our meeting. They offered to detour from their route once we had gotten into town and take me to the hostel, because it is located in the north corner of the city. There is such a cycling community here and people are so helpful!
Elizabeth and Yell told me about their cycling travels in Portugal, Italy, and the US. I told them about mine in Japan and thus far in England and NL. It was both wonderful and inspiring to hear about this couple's adventures on their bikes and the places they had been. I couldn't help but keep picturing Chris and me doing the same thing together. We rode through the towns surrounding Arnhem and into the city, and zig-zagging along the cycling paths that line the main roads. They showed me the city centre, the station, and a beautiful park situated in the middle of everything (a little like Central Park). Finally, we reached the hostel, which is located in the woods along the outer limits of Arnhem. It was such a relief to know that I had made it, and food was not far away. I said good-bye to my riding companions and made my way to the nearest restaurant. After 105 miles and 7 hours of riding, I opted for a falafel restaurant (one of the only places that was still open at 9pm). It's so good to sit down to a big meal after a day of riding.
Tomorrow: it's off to Maastricht in south NL near the Belgium and German borders. I hope this great weather holds up.
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