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.