The usual route through Brielle back to Europoort. After years of alternating between “German” and “French” pronunciations I have finally discovered how to pronounce it as the Dutch do. This time I visited St Catherine’s Church: I was drawn there by wondering if it was unfinished or half-demolished (the former). I was rewarded for my curiosity by discovering that from the church tower the future Mary II waved off her husband, the future William III, as he set off to overthrow James II. (Sadly, time did not allow me to retrace her steps.)
We crossed the Ijssel, headed into the Veluwezoom National Park – and promptly got separated. We have a protocol which has worked well enough in the past – go back to the last point we saw each other and use our phones. Problems this time: one phone (no, not mine) was dead . . . and, actually, what happens if you have two different memories of where you last saw each other? We were waiting for each other in different places. In the end I flagged down passing cyclists and sent them forth to look out for a lost tourer. After almost an hour we were reunited thanks to Roberto, a racing cyclist who had turned round and halved his pace to return the missing sheep to the fold. Swallowing annoyance, I reflected on the helpfulness I had encountered.. I had stopped several people, obliged them to speak to me in a foreign language and burdened them with a plea for assistance.
Needless to say, the phone was recharged as soon as we reached Arnhem.
It was a lovely ride through undulating woods on serpentine cyclepaths. In some places Highland cattle roamed freely and rather hogged the paths. Our route into Arnhem was largely downhill through pleasant residential streets of traditional-style 20th-century buildings. Shortly before the station we came to a block of rather interesting buildings which I walked back to look at afterwards. I learned afterwards that they were all by local architect, Willem Diehl.
A sunny start and a pleasant first half. The day before yesterday I was growing tired of the German section of the Europa-Radweg R1 – pointlessly indirect and without the regular pleasures of the 100 Schlösser Route. I realised – after yesterday’s fat, fluffy hens – that it lacked the opportunity for serendipity. Here in the Netherlands it’s a different story: today it was the herringbone setts that pleased me plus a great little café stop in a place with a lovely garden. Then Bronkhorst near the River Ijssel; it started to rain so there was no chance of stopping to take photos, but it looked very pretty. And touristy . . . but, really, there is no hope nowadays of keeping delightful places totally hidden. The section to Doesburg was a bit dull, but Doesburg itself – a Hansa town – is great. It is at the confluence of the Ijssel and Oude Ijssel – the latter fed by the Bocholter Aa.
Suddenly the sun is shining and yesterday’s irritatingly roundabout route is today’s pleasant pootling. We have left Germany behind, and this little corner of the Netherlands is charming. Tree-lined roads and unexpected discoveries – like today’s agricultural museum which also offered Koffie en Appelgebak along with hens to hoover up the crumbs. Ruurlo has a castle which houses the Museum of Modern Realism – an art gallery rather than a philosophical institution, I have discovered.
And tonight we are staying in one of those late 19th-century/early 20th-century brick-built Dutch buildings that I love.
Practically all the way across the Netherlands today: train from Arnhem to Dordrecht, waterbus to Rotterdam and cycling to Vlaardingen, where we are right beside the river. (I’ve given up trying to distinguish between the Maas, the Lek and the Waal. Oh, and the Scheur.) Completely different backdrop to previous riverside stays: Emmerich has only green fields on the other side whereas Vlaardingen has oil refineries. But watching barges float by is the same restful occupation.
The end of the holiday. I suppose I ought to have seen enough to offer a few insights, but I’m not sure they’re worth anything.
There are staff shortages: every shop, every back of loo door, every van invites you to come and work for them. Hotel room cleaning during a multi-day stay is unusual. The hotel in Meppen used a robot vacuum cleaner, which politely stopped to let us pass in the corridor.
I may as well use machines to buy train tickets: I can’t make a worse job than trained staff. The tickets I bought in the ticket office for today’s train journey were the wrong kind. Fortunately the guard let us off: it was obviously an unwitting mistake. (He wasn’t so sympathetic to the young brown man who was attempting to travel on yesterday’s ticket and turfed him off at the next station. I wondered how to interpret this. Ageing white people are seen as making honest mistakes but young brown migrants are seen as trying to pull a fast one?)
I’m fitter now than a fortnight ago, but mounting and dismounting my bicycle is not as effortless as it once was (sigh).
Instead of ending a holiday as usual with Emmerich to Nijmegen into a headwind, today we did Emmerich to Arnhem into a headwind. With some rain. It was pleasant beside the river and, once the weather changed, an easy ride into the centre of Arnhem. Like Utrecht, Arnhem has direct cycle routes that are heavily used: the roundabout at Airborneplein was particularly hectic. Quite fun to watch, but less fun to be part of. My kind of pootling is really not suited to Dutch city cycling, and it was a bit of a shock to find myself part of it again.
Despite Arnhem’s importance during WWII, the centre looks largely undestroyed. I had time to wander around once we had checked in, but without a map or any idea of what to see. Still enjoyable though. And they have trolley busses.
The same journey as last week – even the storks we saw on the outward journey were there again – but this time into a headwind. We entered Emmerich via a different road – confirming my impression that, beyond its Rhine frontage, it’s a dreary town. (Sorry, Emmerich.)
Old Shoe Box 