A Cycling Odyssey: Part I
I breathed in the fresh air and basked in the sunshine. I was cruising along nicely, admiring the views of Belgian countryside that surrounded me. Fields, farms, canals, windmills, no hills. I had left Antwerp behind me and was headed for Brussels. Ghent and Bruges were on the horizon. Luke cycled up beside me and grinned; ‘’we’re almost at the Duvel brewery now!’’. With that, he sped off ahead, one thing on his mind. Sighing with satisfaction, I gave chase.
What’s the Big Idea?
I’ve just arrived at Luke’s house, having sped across town on my bicycle in answer to his summons. He had hinted at a vague promise of ‘big’ and ‘exciting’ news. Luke answered the door with rosy cheeks. He very tenderly relieved me of my bicycle, then roughly bundled me inside with a snatched comment to the point of ‘’you’re late’’. A cold beer was thrust into my hand and I was herded like cattle into the lounge. Inside, I found Harry, Iain and Phil. There was a print out on the coffee table and a PowerPoint ready on the TV. I obediently took my seat and waited for class to begin. Luke outlined a very exciting proposal for a cycling holiday. We would fix up our own racing bicycles with panniers so that we could take in sights across England, the Netherlands, Belgium and France all within a week’s holiday. We would stay in city hostels each night, so there would be no need to carry cumbersome camping equipment. Ferry crossings would take us to and from England.
Briefly, why did we find a cycling holiday to be such an appealing prospect? Firstly, we genuinely enjoyed the pleasure of social cycling through scenic areas. This was not a route that would push us to exhaustion, it was one designed to be completed at a relatively leisurely pace. Secondly, we could see so much in one holiday. Aside from all the countryside you would otherwise miss out on, we would be exploring cities such as Antwerp, Brussels, Ghent and Bruges.
Thirdly, we knew we had a really good route mapped out. Most days we needed to cover roughly 60km, which at a leisurely pace of 15kph, meant only cycling for four hours of the day. Two hours in the morning, two hours in the afternoon. It’s surprising how easy it is with friends to cover a long distance when you keep a slow but steady pace. We wanted to have enough time and energy after our cycle to explore our destination when we arrived. Crucially, there are plenty of well maintained cycle paths across northern Europe, where cycling is very popular, which meant great views and no problems with traffic. We also knew there would be few nasty surprises to slow us down. In particular, Belgium is remarkably flat, meaning there would be no energy-sapping climbs.
Day 1 ~ Cambridge to Harwich ~ Ferry to Rotterdam
It was pitch black as we ascended the ramp of the ferry, heading for the light of the loading bay in the belly of the ship. I felt the vibrations of the corrugated ramp as I climbed up precariously with my cycling cleats. We had completed a century and then some (120km) to get there from Cambridge, on a scenic route which passed through green countryside, gentle hills and village lanes. Oh, wait, no. Luke had told me it would ‘’gentle hills’’. But Luke had recently returned from a cycling trip up through a mountain pass. His and my own perception of a ‘hill’ differed significantly. It was at times, for me, an arduous climb. To make matters worse, the infamous English summer weather had not been kind. It had rained heavily most of the day, which in part reminded us of why exactly we were trying to escape. The major technical glitch of the day was when Phil’s pedal fell off. Luckily, Luke, being the mechanic of the group, managed to sort that one out quickly. I probably would have popped the pedal in my pannier and carried on without it. I don’t think I would have made it on my own.
Day 2 ~ Rotterdam to Antwerp
It was a very pleasant start to our journey, although it took a little while for the rural scenery to kick in as we headed out of the port of Rotterdam. Soon enough we found ourselves cruising along cycle paths along canals and through tree-lined avenues, heading south. It would, however, be a second century (100 km) we needed to cycle to reach our destination of Antwerp in Belgium.
Nonetheless, the group felt high-spirited. We were well on our way and really enjoying the scenery that was floating by. If any of us were starting to feel smug, however, we were to be reminded of our amateur nature that morning. We were ambling along a country lane, five abreast, chatting away, when we heard a whirling sound up ahead. Reforming into single file formation, we listened and waited. Suddenly, out of the blue came a peloton 25 strong, rushing past us, appearing and disappearing in a flash of Lycra and spinning wheels. This was their playground. We were infants out the pen. Might we grow up to be like them one day? Not for me. Maybe for Luke.
Aside from this, I remember seeing an adorable miniature pony crossing a roundabout. OK, it was being led by two young Dutch girls. The pony had a braided tail and wore bright green socks and a scarf. It was pretty cute. I wondered how surreal it would be if they reproduced rapidly and ran wild through all the fields.
As we approached the border to Belgium, we wondered how exactly we would be told we were crossing. Remarkably, we didn’t see a single sign. I had hoped a visibly upset Dutch man would be waiting to blow a wailing note on his horn to signify our departure, whilst just up the road a visibly excited Belgian man would be waiting to blow a triumphant note on his horn to signify our arrival. As it turned out, multiple excited comments to the effect of ‘’we must be almost there’’ at some point turned into confused comments to the effect of ‘’did we pass it already?’’. We only knew for sure when eagle-eyed Harry realised the number plates had changed on the cars, as a capital B surrounded by gold stars signified a Belgian car. Cycling lanes on the roads of the town also now appeared as thick red stripes, which we supposed must be a Belgian system.
We continued onwards, navigating onto a cycling path that followed alongside railway tracks through the countryside. The path was straight and continued to the horizon, so we seized the opportunity to blow off some steam and enjoy the thrill of a few sprints. With Antwerp not far ahead, we didn’t mind blowing our energy. We did, however, come a little unstuck towards the end of the day as we tried to get into the city centre of Brussels. What had once been a cycling path had evidently fallen into decay, and a very rough path of discarded terracotta tiles had replaced it. Our policy, as it was to turn out, was to soldier through any such obstacles. After a brief dismount, during which Harry complained bitterly that ‘’this is a cycling holiday’’ and attempted manfully to cycle on through, we were back in business. But Harry had set a dangerous precedent.
Settling in briefly at our hostel, we were back out to explore Antwerp late that afternoon. The architecture was very impressive, with grand open plazas flanked on all sides by ornate historic buildings, with sculpted stone columns, arches, balconies, spires and statues. A visit on foot to admire the Cathedral of our Lady (built in the 14th – 16th centuries) in the centre of the old town was an obligatory delight, with its ornately carved grand entrance and its gold gilded clock set into the belfry tower. I’ve nothing against McDonalds, but I was disappointed to spot one just around the corner from this historic site. Thankfully, the majority of the buildings in the historic centre were well preserved. In particular, it was interesting to see Dutch influence in some of the buildings, with rows of tall, thin buildings with ornate facades which wouldn’t look out of place along the canals of Amsterdam.
End of Part I