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Bike Touring Journals by Neil Anderson and Sharon Anderson

Bicycle touring journals

May 14 Sunday 14ยบ C wind (less than Saturday though) cloudy Bicycle touring Holland

We arise just before I hear Walter's electronic alarm clock go off in the next room. He politely knocks and then enters the living room in his boxers. The toilet is in a separate cubicle off the living room.

Walter has put up a plastic frosted partition to cover the lower portion of his kitchen window. When he first moved in, he said he would make breakfast in the kitchen and the lady across could see he wasn't "decent," as he called it. "Now," he says, "she has to bounce on her couch."

We have buns warmed up in the microwave with an assortment of toppings spread on them. Cheese, dark honey made by forest bees, blueberry jam, a mix of white and chocolate soft spread that kids would love but mother's wouldn't, and relish-like spread made from pineapples. We finish our breakfast with a soft-boiled egg that is eaten in the half shell with a little spoon.

Walter surprises me by saying he is selling his boat. "Huh? I thought you were planning on sailing around the world."

"Yeah," he responds, "I'm selling it so I can buy a bigger one. The one I have now is a bit too small to sail around the world in I figure."

He's waiting for a phone call from an interested party in Rotterdam. At 10:30 AM they call to meet him so they can go and inspect the boat. It looks like a good day to try it out -- the wind is an average 3 to 4 force -- what it usually is, Walter says.

We haul our fully loaded touring bicycles downstairs, thank Walter for his generosity and welcome to cycle touring in Holland. Sharon and I pedal off to see the Big Church. But mass is on and the doors are locked to visitors until noon.

We cycle tour the harbour area and the neat and tidy downtown area again. It is very quiet. Hardly anyone is about on this Sunday morning. In a city of 80,000 it seems strange that there is so little activity. What does everyone do on the weekend? Certainly not yard work -- there are no yards.

At noon we cycle back to check out the church. I have to use the washroom. I'm amused to notice the toilet features one of those little porcelain inspection ledges that I first saw at the marina yesterday. Sure enough, a fully formed Snickers bar packed with peanuts is sitting on the shelf to be admired when I finish. It doesn't smell so sweet though. I jettison it into the final frontier.

The church is indeed big; the name in Dutch appropriately means Big Church. There is a video playing, describing the various aspects of the church, but it is in Dutch. The stained-glass windows are impressive with their magnificent colour and detail.

We cycle out of Dordrecht toward Kinderdjke, where Walter told us were great view of windmills along the Lek River. The Kinderdjke area has the greatest concentration of windmills in Holland. Thirty are in the Kinderdjke area.

In one sweeping view I count 12 windmills. We cycle onto a paved cycle path that goes down the middle -- a canal and windmills are on each side of us as we bicycle along admiring the windmills. Now this is bicycle touring in Holland!

The Kinderdjke windmills were the first used to pump water out of the area to drain the land. Some of the windmills are still being lived in. In one straight row, I can see six windmills are lined up.

A man is outside one windmill working in his garden. Clothes are drying on a line. The mailman must take a boat to deliver letters to his mailbox. There is a steering wheel attached to the windmill -- like a ship's steering wheel. It is used to turn the windmill's blades into the wind when the wind comes from different directions.

The Holland bicycle path fietspad continues along the Lek River. We follow the bicycle path to a treed picnic area and eat at one of the tables. As darkness falls we push our fully loaded touring bicycles into a clump of trees. Wild bicycle camping is not permitted in Holland, but I guess they have to find us first.

I notice that when Sharon walks around I can feel the ground shake. The ground feels a little spongy underfoot. When I stomp on the ground, it makes a hollow sound. Maybe Holland is actually Hollow Land? We are camping beside an ever-present canal, hidden in a small group of trees. A few ducks with fuzzy newborns are paddling about catching insects.

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Lead Goat Veered Off 096867402X

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