From Belgium into Holland – Route LF1b
Still on route LF1B, the last part of Belgium and the start of Holland was on the cards for the day. An early night in Oostende followed after getting take-out pasta to fill the tanks, we were tired therefore not keen to sit at a restaurant. There wasn’t the alternative to eat at the hotel nor get room service, they don’t have a restaurant nor room service in the hotel, odd for a four star hotel, very nice hotel with everything from pool, gym sauna etc…..but no restaurant or room service, odd but true! To some degree it was nice taking a short stroll around the town and we got to practice our Afrikaans with the local Flemish – a very easy transition/translation although everyone we spoke to spoke very good English and absolutely no fuss on the few occasions when we couldn’t understand people, they opted to speak English without requesting.
My brother’s knee had been hurting the previous day and had fallen, well, he tipped over whilst virtually stationary at the Westfront Nieuwpoort monument (picture in part 1 of this blog); his pedal hooked on a steel foot high bollard just as we were about to leave – one of those slow-motion falls and not being able to get his shoes unclipped from the pedal cleats. A nice graze and bruise on his shin and knee, from a bystander’s view would have seemed mildly comical and insignificant. Neither Brent nor I thought much about it, he dusted himself off and we headed on.
From the Andromeda Hotel our first stop was literally around the corner, only 2 or 3 km of slow cycling, was the ferry from Noordzeeaquarium to Visserskaai; a free ferry for pedestrian and cyclists, it’s a short trip of around 500m but saves you having to ride around the water which is a very slow 5km ride because it is right through the busiest parts of the town with roadside stalls, pedestrians, cyclists and cars. We could only get onto the 3rd ferry, a limit of 50 people per journey so in retrospect the cycle around would have been easier however we had waited in the queue so long and longer day ahead awaited us, a nice ferry trip was a charming way to start the day. Arriving on the other side the wholehearted cycling of the day could commence. Getting off the ferry we were met once again by the history of war this town once used to occupy even during and before the Napoleonic wars!
Following the LF1b cycle route
Cycling off along the LF1b along the coast (and Atlantic Wall) I felt recharged and invigorated for the day, with views of pristine white beaches and the mildest of cool breezes was a welcome this time round as the sun, not near full gaze was already felt tanning my arms. For many miles ahead we gained steady pace interrupted countless times by checking our location and more importantly the direction we were travelling – the catalyst to this was us leaving the LF1b route in order to avoid the crowds and make up lost time. On regular occasions, more notably when we stopped, was Brent’s knee causing him discomfort, pain to be more accurate and he is not one to normally complain.
Westerschelde Ferry Veerhaven Breskens
Continuing, we hit straight roads occasionally and finally being gifted with some tail winds which aided our progress – even if I say so myself the two of us were cycling like pro’s, overtaking others at speed who looked rather more dress and professional than the two of us. Brent’s knee was getting progressively worse, no complaining but I could see he was in pain from his facial expressions, once getting so bad he had to lie down for 20 minutes. He was in a catch 22, it hurt more when he pulled off or put pressure on it, once cycling although it was hurting the pain was less compared to stopping and starting again. Our next port of call, pardon the pun was the ferry port in Breskers, the Westerschelde Ferry Veerhaven Breskens to be precise, destination Vlissingen just South of Middelburg.
Last stretch for the day….Brielle
Our legs felt good but still welcomed the hour rest and gave Brent a chance to give his knee a break too. The area we were passing through isn’t the best Holland has to offer, however we were in Holland, that was great, and spent the time on the ferry eating nuts, biltong (who’s says a Leatherman knife would not be needed) and protein bars. The journey after the ferry was uneventful to say the least, the highlight was a partial closure of the LF1b route with a “25 minute” detour, ha! It may be 25 minutes if you know the area, but not if like us, it took us 2 hours filled with uncountable stops, eventually using one of the stops constructively and found a place to stay that night in Brielle, Bastion Hotel Brielle Europoort – we had a good 5-6hrs cycling to Brielle. Between the two of us, me more so than Brent, I started to laugh, we would check our direction, map then bolt down the road at speed and full of gusto overtaking everyone in our path, only to stop further down the road and being overtaken by the same group of people……..time and time again, even pensioners overtook us! The déjà vu of overtaking, stopping followed by being overtaken was a little frustrating but to the locals I’m sure they are used to seeing lost foreigners who are pretending not to be lost! Well, I thought it was funny.
Holland…wind turbines….and more wind turbines!
Land of the Bridges
Through Middelburg we went and ended up in the “Land of the Bridges”, that’s not it’s official name but what I call it, extremely impressive bridges; storm surge barriers to be correct and an engineering feat of fantastic proportions. The landscape before reaching the bridges had already changed, Holland known to be flat and one would think the outskirts be absent of anything meaningful to see, but to me, not at all. To the West a mammoth man-made coastline stretching for miles and miles, a mixture of rock and sandy beaches with huge wind turbines towering into the sky. I for one like wind turbines, to me they represent a shift in our technological ethos; where once we would marvel at oozing black smoke bellowing out of coal cooling towers to satisfy our unquenchable desire to generate energy no matter to cost, now replaced by elegant white towers like maidens in white dresses twirling their arms with flared sleeves into the wind with playful purpose. The turbines are scattered everywhere, of those we could get close to (a 100m away) the pulsating whirl of the blades could be felt and clearly heard as the blades cur though the air at astonishing speed – we were not tourists so didn’t spend much time admiring. Back to the Land of the Bridges, the route is about 50km long split between bridges, islands, beaches and waterways. Spread across the beaches were large pockets of people kite-surfing on land and sea the most I’ve ever seen in one day, there must have been close to 50 plus.
The setting has an odd barrenness to it and I think it part this is because of the sheer scale of this, however it you look carefully you can see it brimming with people of all ages doing all kinds of activity – jugging, fishing, camping etc. etc. The bridges themselves deserve praise; if the sea is encroaching your land, what do you do? You control the and stop the sea. The Whole area as far as the eye can see consists of dams, sluices, locks, dykes, levees, and storm surge barriers and the Eastern Scheldt Storm Surge Barrier is what amazed me. As 9km long barrier construction designed to protect this part of the Netherlands flooding, the longest bridge/barrier that can move/open is near 3km long and the longest part of the bridge (the first one we crossed) must be close to 1.5km long. It is quite simply a marvel of human ingenuity and engineering. The ride across these was made even more enjoyable apart from the views was that the strong crosswind was broken up with a strong tail wind.
The roads we were on were quiet and dedicated to bicycles, we had been and continued to push hard, keeping consistent but cycling with real determination. We stopped at the end of the last barrier to take a break and admire what we had just crossed. Worryingly, Brent’s knee was getting worse, it was 18:00 and we had 50km to go!
The day was almost over
Give credit where credit is due, Brent; not one for taking pain pills ended up taking one of my migraine pills, there was no chance of stopping at a pharmacy because it was after 18:00, and we were in the middle of nowhere. Whilst we were cycling we were gunning it, my legs were aching but we had not choice as we road into the sunset; not in the poetic way, we were literally cycling into the setting sun, the race was on to get to the hotel so we wouldn’t have to ride in the dark. LF1b being a fantastic route in every way doesn’t have any lighting so to be avoided when cycling in the dark if you don’t have sufficient lights on your bike! We stopped quite a few times, Brent’s knee was worse even after taking another migraine pill to help the pain – on one occasion he had to lie down and I didn’t think he was going to get up let alone carry on cycling. We pressed on into what looked like farm land (in the back of my mind I just hoped we were going in the right direction through) and the orange haze of the sun arriving at the hotel just after 22:15, the sun had just set. The last 50km had taken it out of us, head winds, winding single-track roads, my legs were exhausted, we had pushed harder than we had any time before and throughout the entire day had gone considerably harder than the day before.
…much needed rest in Brielle
The hotel restaurant was closed, no surprise, pizza delivery it would have to be. Brent was in pain and I think by this time the migraine tablets were making him sleepy too. Food arrived after 23:00, we ate (worst pizza I ever had), I showered and by the time I got our Brent was passed out. With all our detours we had done almost 170km that day my legs could attest to that!
The next morning Brent’s knee was no better and visibly in pain. We discussed our options and agreed our end destination would stay Amsterdam but our method of getting there would change. First things first, we needed proper pain killers so a pharmacy was our primary objective that morning. All our discussing and planning made us miss breakfast and we had woken up late, a short and easy ride into Brielle town centre we found a great outdoor café De Hoofdwacht.
Breakfast in Brielle – Holland
Train to Rotterdam
It felt like a late summers morning with only the early birds jaunting about window shopping or having a late breakfast as we were. We would have breakfast and then head to the pharmacy which was closed when we got there, only later after enquiring with our waiter why the pharmacy was still closed after 11:00 he kindly informed us that it is closed every Sunday except the first Sunday of every month…..grrrrrr! Oh well, breakfast was nice, we had pancakes afterwards which weren’t great at all! A double layer of batter that was more akin to slimy uncooked batter, I didn’t finish mine, how Brent did I don’t know. No pharmacy, Brent’s knee still sore, luckily one of the nearby supermarkets had pain killers – we had hoped for anti-inflammatory and pain killers but the latter would have to do, for now. Either way Brent could only at best ride a very short distance at very slow speed. We needed a pharmacy or A&E, we couldn’t ride, we needed to get to Rotterdam in order to get to Amsterdam, we even thought about getting a cab but €200+ for a cab seemed ridiculous but still an alternative.
After pottering about, why not try the bus to the nearest train station, a local kindly told us bikes were not allowed on the busses as a bus was pulling into the bus stop. The old lesson of “if you don’t ask you won’t get” comes to mind; Brent hobbling to ask the driver if it was possible to take us with our bikes (let’s just say that although he was in pain his walk to the bus and back to me afterwards had an air of theatrics to it). The bus driver, he was a saint! After speaking to Brent and being informed we wanted to go to a hospital was fully accommodating. He allowed both of us onto the bus, and we headed to the train station about 15km away. Once all the passengers had disembarked he made sure we knew exactly where and how to get to the hospital even though it was over the road from the train station. He made sure to emphasise that although the main entrance of the hospital was closed that the A&E was open and made us repeat where to go to ensure nothing was lost in translation – his English was perfect. It is rare in life and more so on public transport to be treated so well, the sort of kindness, compassion and humanity that is becoming a dying trait! Thank you bus driver!
After all that by the time we got to the A&E the pain killers must have been working their magic, Brent felt it a waste of the hospitals time to seek further consultation &/or medication. We weren’t going to be cycling so unless his knee got worse he would stick to the painkillers. Back to the station, we were off to Rotterdam from there a train to Amsterdam.
……..our destination had been achieved, method changed but achieved all the same. Hotel Fita, was were we would rest our weary bones!
For Part 1 and Part 3 of our cycling trip here are the links: