Sprechen Sie Deutche, Baby!

“You are not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You’re not contents of your wallet. You’re not your fucking khakis.”

– Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club)

“Some will fall in love with life and drink it from a fountain, that is pouring like an avalanche coming down the mountain.”

– The Butthole Surfers (Pepper)

“Feeling good was good enough for me…Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.”

– Janis Joplin

“If we’re lost, then we are lost together”

– Blue Rodeo

Ever been at the grocery store when there’s a 2-for-1 sale on apple juice and people lose their damn minds, rolling up on the cash register with 48 bottles of the stuff? And you’re looking at these people and thinking, “Man, that guy sure has a lot of apple juice. What could he possibly want with all that juice?”. Well, that’s what it’s like with bicycles in Holland. The bicycle to people ratio in Holland is something crazy like 3 to 1, only being trumped by China for the greatest concentration of bikes on the planet. Now before you get your geo-political knickers in a twist and admonish me like my grade 6 Social Studies teacher did, I said Holland instead of “The Netherlands” since I can’t really speak for the bicycle scene on Sint Maarten or the other Dutch colonies of the Caribbean. But in mainland Europe, the Dutch people sure do love themselves a bicycle or three. And the cool thing is that everyone rides…and I do mean EVERYONE. You’ve got blue haired old ladies pedaling away, Gandalf looking greybeards givin’er in slacks and sweater vests, Mom’s schlepping vast quantities of children around in bicycle propelled wheelbarrows….we even saw a couple of identically dressed, lycra clad, Lance Armstrong disciples on a bicycle built for two…absolute madness!

Now, the astute among you will notice the title of this composition is all about speakin’ German, so before I get too far ahead of myself, let’s pause for a moment and collect our thoughts…

There…

Apologies for the tardiness of this blog submission. My exceptionally good looking travelling companion and most trusted attorney, Rachel, was putting the finishing touches on her blog entry when it mysteriously disappeared; lost for the ages into the digital ether. Frustrating, as I’m sure you can imagine. So, the torch hath been passed onto me. Hopefully I won’t mess it up.

When you last heard from us, Rachel and I were on our way to the city of Kingston upon Hull to catch a ferry for the European mainland. And in an act which can only be described as “uncharacteristically British” the sun even came out as we sailed away!

Moe and Tweek were happy to relax on the upper deck instead of being sequestered away in the ships pet hotel.

We had a nice smooth crossing and soon found ourselves in Belgium.

Bicycle wise, the contrast between the UK and Belgium was astounding. There were bikes everywhere! We immediately felt compelled to remove our helmets due to all the strange looks from the locals. They looked at us the same way you would if we turned up at your supper table wearing a crash helmet.

It was only about 20km to the Dutch border, so our time in Belgium was very brief but hey, it still counts. I was officially in Belgium! I even took a dump while I was there to cement the deal, so to speak.

We saw no indication that we’d crossed the border into the Netherlands, but soon wooden shoes started to appear and that’s always a sure sign.

Our route took us through what must be the country’s prime vacation spots with mile after mile of sandy beach. The terrain was tabletop flat and generally speaking the winds were at our back, so it was easy riding. We traced a line along the top edge of the country, passing through the Port of Rotterdam. Rotterdam is the largest port in Europe, and the largest on the planet outside of the Asian Pacific Rim area. We took a small high-speed ferry, which allowed us to zip across the shipping channel between some huge ships.

We also spent a day in The Hague, the seat of the Dutch monarchy, just to see what was on the go…..turns out there is nothing much happening in The Hague; just a bunch of business people, going about their business.

40km north east of The Hague we said goodbye to the North Sea Cycle Route and headed inland to Amsterdam. Amsterdam, unlike The Hague, was popping, and our arrival deposited us directly into the middle of their Pride parade.

Despite living for many years in Toronto, I’d never witnessed a Pride parade so I’m not much of an authority, but this one looked like a lot of fun. Amsterdam’s many canals provided the perfect place to stage a floating parade, with thousands lining the route, dancing and having a good time.

We took 2 full days off in Amsterdam to properly relax, wander about the city, and decide where to go next. After many weeks of beaches and coastline it would be nice to have a change of view. We decided to pedal towards Germany and pointed our bikes at the city of Cologne.

The bicycle infrastructure in the Netherlands is absolutely phenomenal. I’d always heard about it – it’s one of the trump cards bicycle advocates in North America like to play when debating the importance of bike lanes with government – but when you actually see it first hand, it’s a marvel to behold. The things they’ve built in the Netherlands for bicycles, if attempted in Canada, would surely have former Toronto mayor and crack cocain aficionado Rob Ford, spinning in his grave. The Dutch taxpayers however, appear to see enough value in it that they build it, maintain it, and most importantly, they use it. Some of it is downright scenic too.

Navigation was interesting. The routes are all signed but for the most part, they’re signed with a rather cryptic system of numbered nodes that we were never really able to grasp the full meaning of.

The node system seemed to be focused on creating short, scenic loops for the locals to enjoy on an afternoon out. Our interests were more in the LF long distance routes.

Finding a “big picture” overview of these routes and where they went proved challenging though. Thankfully the country also has special bicycle road signs indicating distance and direction to neighbouring towns which were very helpful as we hopped from community to community, making our way towards the border.

Crossing the Dutch/German border was a muted affair. The only real indication we’d crossed the line was a row of bricks buried in the ground and a couple of plaques. Nonetheless, we stopped for a photo and a quick celebration.

Cologne was an interesting town; we took 2 days there to wander around. The city prides itself on two things: a huge church and miniature glasses of beer.

The church or “Cathedral”, as it’s more properly known, took hundreds of years to build. They started sometime in the 1200’s and after about 300 years of gluing stones together they got tired, said “fuck it”, and left the building incomplete. It wasn’t until the late 1800’s, during the first season of the PBS series “This Old House”, that Bob Vila came over and finished it off for them.

They did a good job though and the place is gigantic. I guess when it comes to worshipping invisible deities, you really need a lot of space to express your faith.

****SPECIAL REPORT****

Now that we’re firmly entrenched on the European continent and well away from standard UK pub fare, Rachel, our resident nibbler of pies, has established a list:
Top Pies On Offer in the United Kingdom

1. The Beer Cafe, Glasgow. Top marks go to this establishment for their Free Ranger pie. A delicious marriage of chicken, ham, leak and cheddar. Highly recommended!
2. A TIE! The Red Lion at Berwick-upon-Tweed and The Bay Hotel at Robin Hood’s Bay, share second place for their tasty Steak & Ale pies.
3. Third place is where you’ll find the competitors duking it out in the chicken pie category. Honorable mention goes to The Sailmakers Arms at Kingston-upon-Hull, Jarvis Pickle Food Store at Eyemouth, and Shakespeare’s of Edinburgh.

And that my friends, is all the news that’s fit to print.

– Rachel and Steve