An annual cycle

Sheraton 750m (can’t be too demanding on the first day!)

No – not me, the rim of my rear wheel – – –

After 11 years, on as many long distance trips (Vancouver to San Francisco, Dublin to Bordeaux, circumnavigation of the island of Ireland, Gdańsk to Helsinki – and more) my back wheel has developed some nasty cracks in the rim and needs replacing. Just as well I caught it before travelling.

A shout out to John Piggott of the Bike Rack (who built the bike specially for me in 2013) – great service (the bike – and John!) – although I smarted somewhat when he described building an extra strong back wheel for me because I “was a large unit. . .” Sometimes the truth can sting.

So, it’s 2024 and it’s another cycling trip.

This time, it’s a reprise: a second attempt at Bordeaux – Gibraltar (the first having been sabotaged by a positive Covid test on day 1)

Having completed my round-Ireland (Wild Atlantic Way and the opposite side of the country) along with a Dublin Bordeaux sortie, this trip completes the bottom half of euro-velo 1 – the northern elements (Scotland and Norway) remain as outstanding challenges (2025+ if I’m still up for it?)

Well, me! €1.80 actually.

Country 6: the end of the cycle is in sight, with only one full day’s cycling left before a dart to the North Sea

(And I learned that Holland is NOT the same as The Netherlands – casually used (even by the locals), Holland strictly refers to North Holland or South Holland – not to the entire country. Yet more signs of a disdain for history in my formative years!)

And a last image from Germany:

Canadian Connection

I took a slight detour to check out this memorial:

From Straße to Straat – and lots more challenging pronunciations

Anyone need some coal?

Last night, I started to jot a few reflections on the Rhine Ride – which included the (grateful) observation that I had had virtually no rain at all.

And so. this morning, the Universe laughed in my face:

But as experienced cyclists will tell you: “There’s no such thing as bad weather – just bad clothing and bad preparation”

The last full day of cycling was challenging – cold, wet and very windy. Thankfully it cleared in the afternoon, although the headwind continued to make heavy work of the kms.

Rotterdam – a big sprawling city

Rotterdam (pop 620,000), the second largest city in the Netherlands, owes its prosperity to its position at the mouth of the Rhine–Meuse river system. The port, originally concentrated around the historic centre, now extends over 40km along the Meuse and covers 105 sq km, including reclaimed land stretching out into the North Sea.

It was the world’s busiest port until surpassed in 2004 by Shanghai, its main activities being the petrochemical industries and transhipment of general container cargo from ocean-going vessels to Rhine barges.

In no particular order:

The EU!

From my perspective, the Single Market delivers. Enough said.

What a huge river – for now

The Rhine (which, by the way, derives it’s name from Celtic origins – Renos) could, in the next 50 years, suffer reduction in volume of 30-80% due to climate change – or dry up completely ( according to the International Commission for the Hydrology of the Rhine Basin (CHR) and EUWID). We need to act faster on climate change.

Switzerland: by far, the most expensive country

A Club Sandwich- €38 !! (OK, it came with a few chips . . . I didn’t buy, needless to say, but a man beside me seemed quite happy)

A small bottle of (indifferent beer) – €8.70

A cup of black coffee (not even a cappuccino with a nice crema top) – €5.20 (the coffee was like dishwater)

In contrast, I found a lovely bakery (Netherlands) which supplied me with a wonderful coffee and an ApfelFlap (apple in puff pastry) for €4

And, in France, a tasting menu (4 courses) with matching wines – for €88 – was simply outstanding.

People – and “Things Working! . . . Jah!”

Things definitely worked. Reliably. Did what it said on the tin.

People? I won’t say sullen (although I had my fair share of BMWs?)

But was there a surfeit of smiles? Definitely not.

Or engaging conversation? No.

Was there craic of any sort? Damned if I could find it.

It does make me appreciate the natural friendliness at home.

I’ll add a postscript: in my final days, the Dutch have been really friendly and chatty (so different from their German neighbours – how does that happen?)

Bicycle paths EVERYWHERE – and not just tolerance but respect for cyclists

It has been a real pleasure enjoying good quality bike paths – away from cars and trucks. Especially the ones meandering through forests or along disused railways.

Minor beef: some paths descended to difficult gravel and, in one extreme case, not much more than a grassy path flanked by nettles on each side. (Ouch! Yes, I did get stung)

In the 1,517km, I can recall getting beeped at once (probably my fault too). Of course it helps when cyclists are separated from other road users but it made a nice change from the treatment meted out so often at home (Sorry, fellow Irish motorists)

Gratitude

To You, my readers: for following my adventures – and for all your lovely comments

Mr Weather – up to the second last day, 10 minutes of rain on the whole trip

Road workers: Not one puncture. Can barely spell the word pothole. Respect!

John Piggott of the Bike Rack (Cabinteely): who, 10 years ago, built me a special touring bike tailored to my needs. It is still going strong having served me on numerous trips:

– Vancouver to San Francisco,

– Dublin to Bordeaux,

– Wild Atlantic Way and around the N/E/SE equivalent,

– Gdańsk through Kaliningrad, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia to Helsinki,

– Bordeaux to Gibraltar (well, not quite – COVID took me out)

– and more besides.

And, not a single puncture on this trip (God Bless double Kevlar armoured tyres!)

And last, but not least, to Siobhan – for unquestioningly supporting my cycling adventures

Until the next adventure !!

From more than 2,000m above sea level, I’m now down to just 30m (and will go negative quite soon). From steep descents, it has flattened out almost completely.

I still marvel at the size of these enormous barges plying their way up and down:

Close to my destination today, Kleve, Wunderland Kalkar theme park is constructed inside the buildings of a nuclear power station that was never opened! Construction started in 1972 on what was intended to be Germany’s first plutonium-fuelled fast breeder reactor. Completed in 1985, it cost $4billion.

Following the Chernobyl disaster in 1986, it never went into production and the project was cancelled in 1991. From afar, the most noticeable of 40 attractions is a large swing ride that emerges from the top of the cooling tower.

And you can tell which country is next:

And you thought BMW stood for Bayerische Motoren Werke AG?

No – I can reveal today, BMW stands for Bulldogge Mit Wespen (im maul – for the full version) – a Bulldog with wasps in his/her mouth

I owe this lively (nay, alarming) image to a former colleague who had an endearing way with words (another fave being “I wouldn’t send that fellow to the Post Office to buy a stamp!” – a damning vote of no confidence if ever there was one).

Back to BMW: it describes an attitude I have discovered on this trip. Consider it one notch even worse than encountering “a filthy” (which of course is itself one notch worse than “a dirty look”. Readers of Ross will understand.)

Consider the evidence:

1. “Park your bike in the proper place”

I had cycled 38k without stopping and felt a coffee and pastry was in order. As my route was taking me mainly through country roads, I was delighted to find a large cafe/restaurant at a marina on the Rhine. There was a huge dining area outside in addition to the large interior. It was altogether empty.

I enquired if they were open and serving coffee. BMW! The waiter stared at me, said “Jah”, but quickly followed by telling me to remove my bike and park it in the proper place (about 300m away). (Sound of teeth grinding)

2. “The kitchen closed at 8pm”

Another hotel with a restaurant advertised, which turned out to be closed for the evening. I welcomed the opportunity to stretch my legs and to locate a restaurant recommended by the helpful receptionist – a micro brewery with pub grub. I found it by 7pm (important fact)

After a tasty starter and an excellent rack of bbq pork ribs, I struggled to catch the attention of the waitress. I was looking forward to some Apfelstrudel and ice cream. After two failed attempts, I tried a third time, raising my voice slightly – “Bitte?” – to attract her attention. I smiled and asked for the dessert – to be told “the kitchen closed at 8pm” (it was now 8.03). Despite the best charm I could muster, I realised I was getting nowhere with her. In exasperation, I noted that this was probably the first time in my life that having sat down for a meal I was not allowed to order a dessert or be told to get an order in by a deadline (she obviously had not heard of `Magnus Magnusson?). BMW! She testily responded that she could not imagine anyone ordering a dessert after both a starter and main course . . . Ouch!

3. Zer are Rules . . .

I was first to the breakfast area. It was beautifully laid out. I put my key down on the table closest to the buffet and started to select some tasty morsels. After sitting down and starting to eat, I noticed a small wooden block in the middle of the table with the number 101 carved into it. A glance at the adjacent tables revealed 102, 103 . . . my room was 107. Rather than move all my breakfast things, I strolled down and swopped wooden blocks, demoting Mr 101 to the 7th table.

A pleasant young waitress appeared and asked if I would like cooked eggs to which I quickly assented. They were presented promptly and were delicious.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mr 101 inspecting the 7th table, puzzled at the unexpected sequencing. But he took a seat and started his breakfast.

The young waitress appeared with another plate of scrambled eggs – under the watchful eye of the Breakfast Room Frau. When I explained I had already had my eggs (Delicious!), the Frau came over to investigate. Her expression changed when she saw that the 101 Eggs needed to be delivered to a different table. Not a word was spoken but when she stared at me – BMW!

4. Put your rubbish away!

Long day cycling, energy low. And then, like a mirage in the desert – Bakerei! Answer to a prayer!

It was a beautiful premises – still with a good selection of breads and pastries late in the afternoon – with a large dining area (perhaps 20-25 tables), with just two ladies chatting. The woman behind the counter was all business. When I asked for a coffee and pastry she curtly told me (I understood the thrust of her rapid-fire German immediately) the coffee machine was closed. I asked for an Orangina instead and sat down to enjoy it with a pastry.

I waved goodbye and said both Thank you and Goodbye (just as my mother would have insisted) and left the bakery. As I was throwing a leg over the crossbar, the woman came rushing out and gestured for me to follow her back in. Puzzled, I followed her. She took me to where I had been sitting and pointed first to my empty Orangina bottle and crumpled serviette and then to a rubbish bin. BMW!

What am I to think?

I understand Rules. Much of my professional career has been about formulating or checking compliance with various rules.

But, as my former colleague might say “Would ye take a Chill Pill?” (Or, perhaps, “Would you build a bridge – and get over it?!”).

I am reminded of a recent governance mediation when I appealed to the parties to “show a generosity of spirit” , to make some allowances . . . there was even more buzzing there.