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Eine Kleine Rhine Whine

RobSN

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[Continuing the theme of reliving vicariously past bike trips while stuck at home self-isolating by sharing with Pugski/Pugcycle friends. Please stop me if you don't find it of at least some entertainment value]

A diary of Rob’s trip from the source of the river Rhine by Oberalppass, Switzerland to its estuary at Hook of Holland, passing through Switzerland, Liechtenstein, touching Austria, more Switzerland & Germany, France, Germany and the Netherlands – an 18 day trip, inclusive of one rest day, from May 10 to May 27, 2019.
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RobSN

RobSN

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May 10 Zurich to Oberalppass by train; Oberalppass to Ilanz by bike
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I had bought my train ticket in advance, including the bike pass – however, there were 4 changes, and two of them were challenging! The station at Goschenen required going down and back up stairs and thank goodness a couple of ladies helped out. When I finally arrived in Oberalppass, the track up from the train station to the road had not been cleared of snow so I had to fight the bike up the path through thick snow. By the time I arrived at the top, I wondered whether I was done for the day! Anyway, I started off down the fast, steep, switchback road, braking hard before any water on the road in case it was, instead, black ice. I had to dress up in my full gear as it was cold at first, but I rapidly descended into the wide valley where there was no snow nor ice. The route took a somewhat strange gravel path all of a sudden which slowed me down, but did enable me to see a whole garden of Swiss gnomes. Clearly the language is different here, as I passed a sign for “Casa Crap 1-4” and thought, ok, I won’t make that my stopping place for the night, and then just before arriving in Ilanz I went along “Via Crappa Grossa” which, were I but to know, was a fell omen regarding the next afternoon. I stayed in a remarkably nice hotel called the Eden in Ilanz with great views from my room, which was great, were it not for the ¼ inch metal ledge between the bathroom and the bedroom designed to successfully skin the toes on my left foot. Anyway, asparagus soup, a pizza and tiramisu in the restaurant with some Chianti replenished some calories and it was off to bed.
 
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May 11 Ilanz to Oberriet
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The day started off beautifully, though it didn't last. Breakfast reintroduced me to the concept of Swiss/German egg boilers but I successfully conquered them, and also made myself a ham roll for lunch. Today had the only significant climb of the entire route, which fortunately was at the very beginning and I had finished it within one hour and five minutes. I then descended on a very long and narrow road and found myself in the Rhine gorge. It is common in many Swiss towns and villages for there to be water fountains that will drain into a trough – one of them had a statue of a mermaid on top of the fountain and she had two tails! I was able to use my fluent Swiss German to establish that the water was ok to drink: “Die wasser - es ist fur trincken, bitte?”. Some of the views were spectacular and I stopped at a viewpoint where an older couple asked me what I was intending to do – they were very surprised that I intended to cycle the entirety of the river Rhine. As the day went on, it became more cloudy and unfortunately some of the trails were through forests which slowed me down. I finally emerged onto what would normally have been a fabulous cycling surface on the dike alongside the Rhine. Regrettably, pretty much at this exact moment, the rain started and the wind began to howl – naturally right into my face! While I don't know the wind speed there were times when my bike staggered on the path. I stopped and talked to another touring cyclist who was coming the other way – his name was Lee Brass and he had started from Derbyshire in the UK and is intending ultimately to get to Italy on this part of his trip, but with the ultimate intention of riding around the world. I couldn't stay and talk too long as I was rapidly getting cold in the wind and rain – I later found from my Garmin that the temperature was 45°F at times. I crossed the river into Liechtenstein and the rain stopped, so I did too and ate my ham roll and drank some coffee. I was however running out of water and naturally when one wants to find a drinking fountain, they all go into hiding. Fortunately, a couple told me that I could cross back to Switzerland briefly at the next bridge and there was a water fountain there. I did that but went back to Lichtenstein so that I could complete cycling the entire country! I finally crossed back into Switzerland towards the late afternoon, and it immediately started raining heavily again which I thought was less than hospitable! I was staying at what turned out to be a very gourmet nouvelle cuisine restaurant that had two sleeping rooms as well. The house itself dated back to the 15th century, as did the Wi-Fi. I found that the only place that I could FaceTime Susan was from the bathroom sitting on the toilet, with the lid down! Nonetheless, I had a great meal (the main course being fried potatoes, fresh asparagus, and ham - an apparently local famous speciality), although afterwards I landed up having to take a sleeping pill as my body had not yet adjusted to the jet lag. The couple who owned the restaurant kindly washed (for a fee, as it later transpired) my cycling clothes as they were all soaked when I arrived. We arranged that they would be left outside the door for the morning. I was also a bit surprised to be told that they didn’t “do” breakfast, but that there was a cafe down the road which would be open in the morning.
 
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May 12 Oberriet to Konstanz
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Well, the day started with an interesting issue: most, but not all, of my cycling clothes were outside the door - but no long cycling pants (and it was raining, again), and no long sleeved merino wool top. So I went to the cafe and had a coffee, banana-ish sweet roll, and bought a ham roll for lunch later. When I returned to the hotel/restaurant, there was no-one around. Time for stern measures: I investigated the place until I found the laundry room. There, hanging up were the long cycling pants, but the merino top was another issue. Finally I realized that they had to be in the box without an obvious door - which turned out to be the tumble dryer, and the whole front hinged. So now A-OK, I packed up and started to ship out. As I did, Kim, the lady, returned and made me a flask of coffee as a penance, methinks. Out on the road, it was raining again, and I landed up cycling alongside the Rhine on crushed limestone which was somewhat slow. In the States, if one passes another cyclist, one says “Hi” or somesuch. In Switzerland, clearly not, although a grim “gruezi” seems to be about the sum total that one can hope for. One young girl, perhaps 9-10, skipped past me carrying flowers that she had clearly picked and was singing. I later noticed various nicely dressed people going into restaurants, and realized that I should wish Susan a herzlich mutters’ tag later. Fortunately, as the day went on, the day brightened up, and I stopped for lunch by the harbor in Rorschach and had my ham roll. There was to be no nice restaurant lunch for me, for I am only a vater. I took a selfie in Rorschach while endeavoring to look “blotto”, but pretty much nobody seems to have worked out why*. I arrived at the wrong iBis hotel in Konstanz, but ultimately navigated to the correct one and was able to take my bike to the room. After a shower, I walked to a local Italian/Pizza place and had a salad and spaghetti carbonara to replace a small portion of the calories expended during the day.
[* C'mon Pugskiers and Pugcyclists, surely someone will be the first to "crack" the mystery]
 
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May 13 Konstanz to Lienheim
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Today May 13 I woke up at 6 AM and considered starting the day then. But I had only had six hours sleep, so sensibly I went back to sleep for another two hours, even though that meant that my day started rather late. It was a beautiful day: it took me some while to cycle out of Konstanz (a problem that I found recurred - although the European cities are brilliantly cycle friendly, and the locals whizz around like nobody’s business, I found I had to keep stopping to make sure I had chosen the correct bike path). Nonetheless I was not complaining as it was a beautiful day and for periods of the day I rode very fast on tarmaced bike paths, although at other times I was riding through forest trails on crushed limestone, which reduced my speed considerably. All along this part of the Rhine are reminders of WW2 and Switzerland guarding its neutrality: there are block houses covering various parts of the Rhine and, presumably, defiles. I continued to be a little confused about who has right of way on minor roads as especially there are some strange road markings that I had never seen before.

I went through Stein Am Rhein which is a quite amazing preserved medeival town, and later went past fabulous covered bridges between Switzerland and Germany. Unfortunately my visit to Rheinfall was not quite as enjoyable as I had hoped. The bike paths around the famous falls were closed and I landed up having to cross the footbridge with the bike. As there were others behind me, I couldn’t stop for a picture. Then, when I got to the other side, I found two flights of stairs to negotiate. Fortunately, the people behind me helped and I got to the main tourist trap merely a sweat covered mess. However, with all my luggage, I decided not to go in and expend some large number of Swiss Francs. Later in the afternoon, I passed a cafe Dachs with a picture of a badger on the outside confirming the information that I had heard that dachshund means badger hound. By the end of the day, it was rather warm and I was pretty tired, so I was very pleased to arrive at my hotel which participates in the bett+bike program. The room however left something to be desired. There was a skylight which had no form of shading (which later I found to be quite common) - so thank goodness I had brought eye shades with me - and a shower that required a contortionist’s skills to enter. In fact I had to grab the shower bar while in the shower and it broke! Nonetheless, I had a very pleasant dinner including “spargel” (=asparagus) which seems to be the thing everywhere.
 
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May 14 Lienheim to Basel (sorry, this day's map is in two parts due to Garmin problems)
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Initially I thought that this was going to be a fast day, as there were tarmaced bike only paths along the river and the railway. Hah! Then long periods of rough forest tracks raised their ugly heads. Even with my 2 inch tires and sprung saddle, I rather dislike this kind of surface: it is slow going and rattles me around much too much. I went through the middle of the beautifully preserved Swiss city Rheinfelden which is closed to traffic and included a statue of a well-endowed Swiss chap wearing some seriously silly gear.
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At the end of the day, I came off the D2 Rhine river route and started to navigate my way towards Basel SBB, the main train station, as I knew where my hotel was relative to that. I soon picked up new signs for Basel SBB but finally came to one that clearly as later transpired had been turned round. It looked to be leading down onto a fast road, so I asked a passer-by if it were really for cycling. Oh, yes, he said, pointing at where I could cycle. It turned out to be total B.S. - and I landed up on a road very much not for cycling and landed up having a very stressful half hour getting off it and back onto safe cycling paths. Ugh. Anyway, I arrived at my hotel, the iBis, and manfully managed to get my bike into the elevator with about 1mm to spare. A fast shower, and I whizzed out to Le Train Bleu, a watering hole that I used to use when I was on business in Basel. There I met an old business colleague Peter Cooke and we proceeded to have zwei grosse biers, and went across the road to the Italian restaurant Da Roberto where they not only called Peter by name, but recognized me as well (likely some 4 years after I had last been there). Peter later embarrassed me a bit by paying for everything which was both generous and unnecessary.
 
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May 15 Basel to Biesheim
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(Desireable French residence?)
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As per usual, navigating out of a big city takes a while. Finally I went through 3 countries in a matter of a few hundred yards (Switzerland to Germany to France), and got on various cycle paths on “Eurovelo 15” going north. It was tough - although the sun was out, there was a relentless strong northerly wind slowing me down, and my bottom was hurting, a lot. My legs weren’t that happy either. I stopped at one point and had tried to adjust the saddle but without much luck. My Garmin had been acting up a little in giving me late turn directions, and at about 4pm I stopped by a left turn where I could see that the Eurovelo 15 turned left, but my Garmin hadn’t yet said so. A car stopped behind me thinking I might turn left in front of him, and I turned to wave him on. Silly me, I hadn’t unclipped my left foot and I overbalanced and down I went with the bike. The man turned the corner and jumped out to help me. I told him in French that I was ok, merely embarrassed. He then pointed out the gushing blood (slight exaggeration) from my little finger: true, it was bleeding, and darn it, it was cut right on the end so it was difficult to stop. Anyway, he recommended “pour ma securité” that I take the bike paths, so shamefacedly I did so, only to discover that the Garmin shortly thereafter agreed.

My hotel tonight had a sister hotel with a dining room, so I had to walk 400 yards between the two. I was on a half board deal and it was only afterwards that I discovered that I could have paid the difference to get some rather nice looking lamb which I saw being brought out later to another diner. Ah well. One of the problems of not being completely fluent in French – in fact the waitress started off in French and misunderstood my “Pardon?” which was because she had spoken into my deaf ear. She immediately switched to German which made me laugh and I exclaimed – hey, at least I understand French! So she then of course switched to English. By now, laundry is becoming a difficult matter: sinks frequently can’t be used. I can but hope that tomorrow’s will be okay.
 
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May 16 Biesheim to Strasbourg
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My bottom was hurting and my shoulder was hurting. Finally, I decided that I had had enough and stopped at a seat by the side of the road and examined my saddle carefully. I got out my toolkit and managed to move the saddle back a few millimetres. I also realised that the lacing which helps keep the sides of the saddle together had become loose and in a “a-ha” moment I tightened up the laces. The difference was immediate and extraordinary – my bottom stopped hurting. My shoulder still gave me a degree of grief but with only one thing hurting the caliber of the day changed completely. But the strong northerly wind didn’t slow me down too much as I cycled along the canal for almost the entire day, and it was tree-lined, so it blocked the majority of the wind – and speaking of blocking, there were also block houses guarding the canal as can be seen in the picture. As I approached Strasbourg, loads of soldiers running with their packs passed me going the other way, no doubt on a sadistic exercise thought up by the Sergeant Major: the first ones past looked fine, but by the time I got to the end and the stragglers, I could see that they were having a tough time. I stayed at a rather swish and modern hotel in Strasbourg – normally that would be all positive, but the sink was too modern for washing clothes in that it had no plug merely a wide slot into which the water drained, so I had to shower in my dirty clothes to clean them. I discovered that there was a well rated Indian restaurant within a short walk so went there for dinner. The moment I started speaking in French the Indian waiter smiled and replied in English in a somewhat east end of London accent!
 
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May 17 Strasbourg to Knielingen
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As always, navigating one's way out of a large city was time-consuming. As I did so however, the route turned in to a not particularly interesting ride through flat country although there were occasional interesting signs warning in French that one was entering a region technologique, and to be prepared to evacuate - quite as to why was unclear. There was also a completely unintelligible sign that seemed to warn that cars could blow up without getting 7.5 teaspoons of dessert*. I keep getting nearly mowed down by faster cyclists when, for example, I move around a pedestrian. Why they think that I should either stop or mow down the pedestrian, I do not know, but they seem to exclaim in agitation that I should have dared to move out. It was quite a warm afternoon, so I was pretty sweaty by the time I landed up across the Rhine from Worth in Knielingen at the hotel. It was a family run affair called Schuh’s, which although it participated in the Bett+Bike scheme did not have locked bike storage, although admittedly it was hidden from the road.

[* Seriously, can any of the French speaking Pugskiers/Pugcyclists explain what this sign means and what a region technoligique is???]
 
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May 18 Knielingen to Worms
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Almost a disaster – I left my washbag in my room but thankfully the cleaner ran out with it while I was packing up my bike. It was a long day with a lot of riding next to dikes protecting the land from flooding – unfortunately, the dikes were high and that meant that much of the time I couldn’t see the river. I did go past the air museum in Speyer which has a 747 which looks as if it is flying a few feet off the ground. When I finally arrived in Worms, I was hot, so I sat outside at my hotel overlooking the cathedral and had a couple of beers. An older Australian(?) man had a go at me at dinner to turn the noise down, thinking erroneously that the hotel music was coming from my iPad, and then only grudgingly muttered an apology. The owners came and asked me who he was after he left grumpily as it turned out that he and presumably his wife were not staying at the hotel.
 
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May 19 Worms to Bingen
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Today, there was some great riding along paths by the dykes with wild flowers on each side and through some vineyards by the Rhine, particularly by “Rote Hang”, although I admit to being a bit distracted when I was there. European cyclists clearly have capacious iron bladders as the number of public restrooms that I have seen on this trip could be counted on the fingers of one hand, and by the time I got to the vineyards, not only was everyone out for a ride but convenient hidey holes/trees with bushes around them were few and far between! Notwithstanding this, the weather was pretty good and there were classic views over the Rhine of the sort that are made into postcards, with Viking River Cruises and similar boats going past all the time. I saw my first sign for “Kaffee und Kuchen”, supposedly beloved by German cyclists, so stopped at the Café for said coffee and cake in the early afternoon. Later on, I saw a number of storks and stork nests on poles near the river. I finally got to my hotel which was the worst of the entire trip: smelly bathroom, weird shelf over the bed at an angle (my water bottle fell off onto the bed so thank goodness it was sealed at the time) and darned narrow single beds. However, there was a nice Italian restaurant within walking distance which offered a fine veal saltimbocca which I ate on their terrace overlooking the Rhine and the vineyards on the other side.
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May 20 Bingen to Koblenz
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Well, my goodness. The wind howleth yea even from the north and unto the face of thy cyclist. And it didn’t look too promising on the rest of the weather front either. After only a few miles, it started to rain, and after looking for somewhere to change and not seeing anything, I did a change into my rain pants on the path next to the river - and naturally when I started back up I found a tunnel under the railway around the first corner which would have been way preferable to change in! A few miles later the rain was pretty steady and wet, so I took shelter for a few minutes under some trees on the river path near a group of German touring cyclists (i.e. they had panniers). In my best German, I gesticulated at the skies and said “So, wo ist der sonne?” which got some smiles. They switched to English and said that they had something that would put the sun in me – and produced some amazing brandy and a little metal cup that they filled. I shot it into my mouth without touching the cup and by golly they were right. It gave me a grin for a good hour or two, even with the rather dull weather. Late morning, after more coffee, amazingly I came across a public restroom for which I made a beeline, only to discover an American therein somewhat dishabillé who seemed not to understand that one is supposed to lock the door so that it shows a little red sign rather than a green one on the outside. Unfortunately, today was the day that I rode past the famous Lorelei rock and various pointy castles, which I am sure would look better in sunshine. It did stop raining in the afternoon although it remained threatening. I ended the day at a hotel that has been around for 200+ years, and is translated as “Wine house at the Black Bear” where the people were very friendly and the food was great.
 
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May 21 Koblenz rest day!

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Four things decided this rest day. One, my knees hurt, even after 9 hours of sleep. Two, available accommodation in the Bonn/Cologne area was like hen’s teeth unless one wanted to spend $300+ for a night (not entirely sure why, and it continues through May 22 and then all becomes clear). Three, it was p___ing down with rain and predicted (accurately as it happened) to do so all day (see radar picture from the Weather Channel), and four, this is a very nice hotel and someone moved their check out day up which freed up a room. So ... this was the day to work on the diary, plus a significant amount of time trying to find a reasonably priced hotel for tomorrow, plus a sauna as the hotel has one in the garden. I felt like a new man, but couldn’t find one so just had to stick with the old one. Kimba, the hotel hound, is highly educated and understands English perfectly - either that or all dogs have been fooling us for generations and respond only to their name and a very few other words. Anyway, she wagged her tail when I made a fuss of her.
 
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May 22 Koblenz to Widdig
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The day started off a little dull but brightened up with sunshine by mid-morning. On the way out of Koblenz, I came across an amazing mural of a pretty woman on the side of a house, which turns out to be quite famous. While riding along the path, I saw two towers in the distance that I recognized as having seen on a documentary about WWII – the remnants of the bridge at Remagen, where the US Army captured the last bridge standing over the Rhine. Naturally, I wanted to visit the museum there, but my luck was out: there was a sign on the door saying that it was closed for renovations. Towards the end of the day, I got caught in a veritable blizzard – it was a snowstorm of tree pollen which was so thick that I had to put a scarf over my mouth so as not to choke. The hotel that we had found the previous day, the Rheinterrase, turned out to be the nicest of the trip. The hotel was right on the river with an outdoors terrace overlooking the river, where I had dinner, and the room was large enough that I could bring my bike into it and recharge the back light. I had “Zanderfilet” for dinner, which had already become a favorite of mine: the English translation seems to be “Pike/Perch” but I’m not entirely sure what a Pike/Perch is – a pike yes, a perch yes, but the combination, I don’t know. Nonetheless, it is a very tasty fish!
 
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May 23 Widdig to Duesseldorf
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My morning ride went through Cologne, or Köln, in German, but since the ride stuck by the river the usual curse of cycling the big city was blunted. As my day seemed to be going well, I took the opportunity to cross the river by ferry and visit Zons, which had been a customs post on the Rhine for hundreds of years until … there were floods in the 19th Century which altered the course of the river leaving Zons, once the floods went down, high and dry! I had a bit of a problem finding water in Zons – unlike Switzerland, the fountains are not potable. At the end of the day, I had some difficulty finding my hotel (a Courtyard Marriott) which was in a business area. On my way up to my room I started chatting with a Japanese gentleman who was interested that I could tell he was Japanese. I mentioned my daughter Diane’s ability to speak Japanese and answering his question, told him that she had a friend in Japan and showed him the picture of her friend Marie Yanaka in her Miss Japan outfit. He immediately exclaimed: “Oh! She is very famous announcer on television!” I also discovered that the USB charging port on my bike was not in fact working, and realized that it had been broken when I fell off the bike in France.
 
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May 24 Duesseldorf to Karklar
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This seemed to be the slowest hardest day, for no good reason: there were a couple of ferry crossings early on, and I got stuck in a large group of touring bicyclists with e-Bikes: even after I had initially managed to give them the slip by riding on a little detour along the dykes, they nonetheless managed to catch up. There were also lots of umliedungs, or diversions (I presume) which mucked things up. The route landed up being somewhat away from the Rhine, and due to not managing to get a move on, I had to miss visiting Xanten, which I had hoped to see. At the end of the day, I had to really lay on the pedals in order to get to my hotel at a reasonable hour. It landed up being quite a nice place: it was clearly a spa sort of hotel in the middle of nowhere, but I was able to sit outside in the garden and have dinner and found it a thoroughly enjoyable way of ending what seemed to have been a very hard day: I wonder if not seeing the Rhine for much of the time had an effect? It might seem easier when one can view the river and let one’s mind wander.
 
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May 25 Karklar to Arnhem
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This was the day that I crossed the border from Germany into the Netherlands. There was much fast riding on the Rhine dykes under warm sunny skies. There had been lots of bikes in Germany, but there were even more in Holland. The Dutch were very friendly: I knew I had to cross the bridge at Nijmegen but I had much difficulty finding the route onto the cycling path due to road works, but once on the bridge I asked some riders how to get back on the route to Arnhem to which the response was “follow the red brick road” – and they meant it! There was a sort of bike superhighway to Arnhem marked out with red brick, so that’s where I went. They even had a sign to welcome me, at Ressen (I forgave them for the mis-spelling of my last name). I stopped on the way at an outdoor café for an ice cream cone, and the lady serving me asked if I realized what was special around there. I replied “The airborne landings?” and she smiled: clearly even the young around Arnhem are taught about the “Bridge too far” airborne landings in 1944. Indeed, a young couple with dogs at the café joined in the conversation agreeing. Going through Arnhem, I crossed the Bridge and then shortly thereafter came across a most disconcerting experience: hills! I hadn’t had them for a while, but I landed up having a mostly fast ride into the countryside to my hotel, nearly interrupted by a roll in the hay or more accurately the road with a number of relatively young and attractive Dutch girls. The Dutch crossing signs seem to differentiate between cyclists and walkers with different reds and greens for them – so I stopped at a red cyclist light and nigh on had the three girls pile into me, as they didn’t expect me to stop. I caught them up and asked them why they had cycled through the red cycle light at high speed, and it turned out that it was acceptable when the green walker light was on. They then talked to me a bit, and it happened that they were going to go right by my hotel for a concert (which little did I know would keep me awake until midnight!). They too were very friendly, and fit I might add, riding their sit up and beg Dutch bikes faster than I would normally have ridden my touring bike.
 
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May 26 Arnhem to Nieuwegein
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In the morning, I visited the Airborne museum a few miles from my hotel, and I found out there that my great uncle Stephen Esson had indeed been shot down in Holland but that it was in 1940, and that the Germans had buried him with full military honors. The museum itself was fascinating, but the Dutch suffered the most awful depredations as a result of the landings. Afterwards, I rode by castle Doorwerth but didn’t go in. The actual route seemed to avoid the Rhine and I only caught glimpses of it, or could deduce that it was there because I was on a dyke. The late morning was spent riding along a cycle track next to a fast road and was, to put it mildly, thoroughly boring. In the afternoon though, I arrived at Wijk bij Duurstede which has two claims to fame. Firstly, it is utterly unpronounceable and was clearly only named as such to provide amusement to the Dutch when foreigners try to say it. Secondly, it is the home of the world’s only drive through windmill, which had a café next to it, so I stopped for tea and a piece of carrot cake. After setting out from Wijk, as we cognoscenti call it affectionately, I became suspicious of the route my Garmin was suggesting and double checked it on Google maps. They both agreed, and both landed up taking me into a farmyard from which I could see, but not navigate to, the road on top of the next dyke. I therefore had to back track and had gone on a 5 mile ¾ hour wild goose chase, which I did not much need. During the afternoon, I passed various flood defense gates, some of which looked very much like attack robots from Star Wars. I ultimately managed to make it to my hotel in Nieuwegein, which was also unpronounceable, and by the time I did so, I was so hot that I went to the hotel bar, did not pass Go, and drank down a litre of a Dutch lager in about a minute. Thereby refreshed, I stored the bike in an office in the hotel, had a shower, and then had a most welcome meal before crashing at something like 9pm … or so I thought. At about midnight, I was awoken by what sounded like teenagers in the next room whose sole aim in life was to move the chairs and tables around, without lifting them, in a manner designed to penetrate even the semi-deaf guy’s brain next door. This went on, off and on, until 4am.
 
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RobSN

RobSN

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May 27 Nieuwegein to Hook of Holland, and the end
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I much regret to say that when I got up in the morning, I was less than my usual quiet self. Anyway, after breakfast, I set out in beautiful sunshine, riding along neat Dutch cycle paths with canals and streams all over. I did see, but failed to stop and photograph, a very clever painted creeper in a little dyke: it had been painted with eyes and teeth and it had an arch so that it looked like the Loch dyke monster. I got to Rotterdam around 1pm-ish and stopped in a park overlooking the river for my ham roll that I had purloined from breakfast – but I almost didn’t as coming over one bridge, I got trapped by the barriers coming down as the bridge lifted (there were warning horns, but when you have no idea what they are on about, you don’t necessarily do the right thing). Fortunately, various amused Dutch people helped me manhandle my bike under the barrier to “safety”. Rotterdam itself had some amazing modern architecture, although the ride from Rotterdam out to the Hook of Holland was rather blah. As I approached the Hook of Holland in the late afternoon, I could see my ferry, and having done some reconnaissance, I looked around for a place to eat dinner – and I particularly wanted fresh fish. I also rode out to the beach to take the appropriate end of the Rhine ride photo. I finally found a fish restaurant by the promenade that had sole, so I stopped in there for sole, French fries, a salad, and some white wine. Well, I was in no hurry, which was good because they forgot about me and the owner after 30 minutes or so rushed over and apologized profusely, gave me some more wine (for free), and after another 5 minutes or so, arrived with the fish, which was, I must say, excellent. After dinner, I boarded the ferry and went to my single cabin, only to find that it was two single bunk beds and there was someone’s luggage on the bottom bed. My heart sank as I thought that maybe this was like the old British Rail sleeper concept of a single ticket where one would land up sleeping in the same room as a stranger. I decided that I couldn’t handle that, but I also couldn’t handle not having a shower a moment longer, so I did that, and then went up to the customer service desk and enquired about the terms of a single cabin. It transpired that indeed it should be for only one person, so they got me another cabin which was an upgrade and had big porthole windows over the bows. Great, I thought, I’ll see us approaching Blighty in the morning – and sure enough, at 5:30am, there was a ship wide alarm call to tell us all to get up. I looked out of the porthole expecting to see the English coast, only to discover that we were already docked, and I’d missed all of it.

The End (although the C2C starts the next day!)​
 

Tony S

I have a confusion to make ...
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May 19 Worms to Bingen
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Today, there was some great riding along paths by the dykes with wild flowers on each side and through some vineyards by the Rhine, particularly by “Rote Hang”, although I admit to being a bit distracted when I was there. European cyclists clearly have capacious iron bladders as the number of public restrooms that I have seen on this trip could be counted on the fingers of one hand, and by the time I got to the vineyards, not only was everyone out for a ride but convenient hidey holes/trees with bushes around them were few and far between! Notwithstanding this, the weather was pretty good and there were classic views over the Rhine of the sort that are made into postcards, with Viking River Cruises and similar boats going past all the time. I saw my first sign for “Kaffee und Kuchen”, supposedly beloved by German cyclists, so stopped at the Café for said coffee and cake in the early afternoon. Later on, I saw a number of storks and stork nests on poles near the river. I finally got to my hotel which was the worst of the entire trip: smelly bathroom, weird shelf over the bed at an angle (my water bottle fell off onto the bed so thank goodness it was sealed at the time) and darned narrow single beds. However, there was a nice Italian restaurant within walking distance which offered a fine veal saltimbocca which I ate on their terrace overlooking the Rhine and the vineyards on the other side.
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So, your thread has "Rhine Whine" in the title. Where are the accounts of the Rhein Wein you drank and the vineyards you visited. That photo appears to be of one of the great Rheingau vineyard sites, and you are talking about it like it's mere scenery rather than the zenith of riesling on the planet. That's the Rudesheimer Berg, right? Damn.
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