Does this train go to Maastricht?

Cycling Western Europe
Day 4: July 2, 2007 (Arnhem to Maastricht, NL)
Route: Arnhem - Venlo - Roermond - Maastricht
Weather: rainy and windy (AM); partly cloudy (PM)
Total mileage: 25 miles

Situated in the southern tip of the Limburg province of NL, the city of Maastricht is sandwiched between Belgium and Germany. This must explain the great difference in the dialect, food, and architecture that exists within what remains of the ancient stone walls of this once castle town.

My hostel (another Netherland Stayokay) sits on the Meuse River near one of the old outer walls and a large park. I arrived around 4pm on a local train after cycling 25 miles through the not-so-spectacular countryside of Gelderland into Limburg. I decided this morning (after a fitful sleep and awaking to another gray, rainy day) that I would hop a train south to Venlo, the halfway point between Arnhem and Maastricht (my next stop); and then ride from there into the city. After about 20 miles of pushing through strong winds and rain (which was mysteriously moving in the same direction as I was, because it was sunny over both the German and Belgium borders to the east and west of me), I decided to call it quits and stop in Roermond to ride the train the rest of the way. Had I done the whole route from Arnhem it would have been another over 100+ miles riding day, but after yesterday's ride and last night's lack of good rest (the woman in the bed across from me was snorring through the whole night) it just wasn't happening.

I got into Maastricht this afternoon and headed straight for the VVV (tourist info office) to pick up maps and contact the hostel. Luckily, it was still open (since I've realized that everything closes by 5pm in this country, including restaurants and shops). It was off to the hostel for a good shower and rest before heading back out (the weather had cleared up by then--figures) to have a nice dinner. I decided to treat myself to some good Italian, because I was craving pasta; so, I found a little place situated along the boardwalk next to the river. Sitting at my table, eating warm bread with olive butter (amazing!), drinking good red wine (Cab all the way, baby!), and awaiting my vegetarian pasta, I gazed out over the river at a beautiful, old church and quaint Dutch buildings. Am I really here? I couldn't help but think. The only thing that would have made it better was to have someone else with me. I must say that it gets a bit lonely traveling so much by myself . . .

This may sound crazy, but I find myself talking aloud sometimes, singing, or finding reasons to walk up to complete strangers just to have a conversation with another person. Being alone is nice, but it gets lonely after a while. Tonight at dinner I heard a group of young men speaking English at one of the tables nearby and wanted to speak with them simply for the sake of talking. It was rather pathetic, I admit, because their conversation consisted of computer talk and internet game strategies; yet, I was dying to just open my mouth and hear my voice again. Hours and even the majority of days go by in silence. On the bike, out in the country with no one else around, there isn't much opportunity to speak. I am sometimes surprised when I do hear my voice again, wondering: "Who is that speaking?" I can certainly see how one could become insane stuck in solitary confinement or lost in the wilderness for a long period of time. This is not to say that I am going insane (I may not be the one to judge that, though) or feel as though I am locked up, but it can be a little strange being with myself so much. At least I have a lot of time to think and discover new information about Alex, as well as explore this part of Europe.

Tomorrow it's into Belgium to Brussels before heading north to the coast. Crossing my fingers that the weather gets better . . .

I met an old man on the way to Gouda

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.

Entering Holland

Cycling Western Europe
Day 2: June 30, 2007 (Den Haag to Delft and back, Holland/Netherlands)
Route: Hook of Holland - The Hague - Delft - The Hague
Weather: sunny (AM); rainy (PM)
Total mileage: 25 miles

I'm in paradise! Yes . . . Holland and the Netherlands is probably the closest place to my ideal lifestyle as it can get. Check this: there are cycling roads EVERYWHERE! Ok, I'm not talking just the here-and-there "cycling paths" that we have in the US. Oh, no, no, no. It's a whole other world overe here in the land of bicycles and cycle touring. There are probably more bikes than cars on the streets in the cities (or so I've seen thus far in The Hague). I mean, every street has a separate cycling path that is both paved and marked. Moreover, at every intersection and junction, there are signs directing cyclists (in red) and motorists (in blue) where to go for each nearby town and city. I was able to ride straight from Den Haag to Delft (7 miles way) this afternoon along one of the river canals without having to worry about cars or trucks. Amazing! It's a cyclist paradise, I'm telling you.

Ok, enough of that. I am a little too excited about the whole thing still.

My day began with a 7am wake-up call in my $150 "Comfort Class" cabin (which was the only room left for yesterday) aboard the cruise ship/ferry from England to Holland. After a hearty breakfast--scrambled eggs, baked beans on wheat toast (English style), yogurt and granola, and orange juice--I packed my bags and headed for the car deck to retrieve my bike. After waiting for about 1/2 hour to depart the ship and get through immigration, I opted to take the local train to The Hague (the capital of South Holland, NL) since I wasn't sure of the route from the dock. Too bad, because it would have been a beautiful ride through Holland country, and the weather was fabulous. Nonetheless, I arrived in the city at about 10am and was able to book a room at the local hostel: Stayokay. Then it was back on the bike and off to nearby Delft (a local village known for it's windmills, churches, and pottery: Delft Blue).

Figures . . . it started to rain once I arrived in the village, but after dealing with a week of bad weather in England I wasn't about to abandon my day trip. Following signs and cycle paths, I came upon a local farmer's market and Saturday fair in the centre (British spelling) of town. Waving through the crowd with other cyclist walking their bikes, I found a small restaurant selling the best sandwiches and soup I've had in ages: goat cheese sandwich and eel-zuccini soup. Followed by some Dutch coffee and cookies, I was set for the rest of the day. Can it get any better than this? Yes! As I made my way around the village, I came upon a beautiful old church at the end of a quaint alley running along one of the many small canals that laces through the town. I spent the next few hours just touring the area on my bike before heading back into Den Haag.

I decided to take a different route back, following the river on the opposite side than I came and cutting through a local park. Although I got lost in the woods (what's new?), I found some wonderful little ponds and fields holding horses and cows. It was nice to just give myself over to nature for a bit. It took a bit longer to get back, but I eventually found the road back to the city (thanks to the trusty road signs) and the hostel. Although it was another day of riding in the rain, I was glad to have taken the time to explore the outer areas of The Hague. Tomorrow, it's off to Arnhem (a city in the Gelderland province, which is east of Holland near the German border). More to come soon . . .

Chasing the clock through East England

Cycling Western Europe
Day 1: June 29, 2007 (Wisbech to Harwich, England)
Route: Wisbech - Burnham Market - Hadleigh - Manningtree - Harwich
Weather: sunny (AM); cloudy (PM)
Total mileage: 80 miles

. . . and so it begins: my solo-cycling trip through west Europe from England through Holland and the Netherlands, to Belgium and France, then back.

Today didn't start off too hot with a flat tire at about mile 15, which I managed to patch (I am so amazing!), but didn't trust; so, I called my aunt and uncle whose house I had just left to pick me up and drive me to the nearest cycle shop. Boy did I feel stupid. I hadn't even made it through the first hour.

After a brief stop at the cycle shop, complete with new touring tires and inner tubes, I continued my ride south through rural Norfolk, UK in and out of quaint, little farming villages. Around mile 50, I found myself heading east (when I was supposed to be heading south) on a small country back-road. With no houses or people in sight--just extensive farmland and cows--I hailed a car along the road and asked directions to the next town on my map: Manning Tree. "Oh, you have to go back the other way," they gasped. "If you take the next lane--Hook Road--and turn left at the bottom, you will be heading back in the right direction." They weren't kidding when they said "lane". This road wound through the woods with barely one car-lane width, and covered with forest canopy. Beautiful! I felt like I was in the land of the hobbits.

Luckily, I found the correct road back south into Manning Tree and connected to where I needed to be heading into Harwich. At that point, it was only fifteen miles to go!!!!!! Climbing the last hill into the ferry town, I met an older cyclist going my way. He showed me to a nice seaside restaurant and pub, where I got some much needed pasta and prawns (shrimp for the British-English impaired) and now await the ferry at 11:30 pm. More tomorrow when I arrive in Holland . . .