The Flying Dutchman

Flat as a Dutch Pancake

The Netherlands has something of the Midas Touch for cycling.  Off the ferry the wide cycle paths of smooth flat tarmac stretch out in all directions.  Every turn leads to perfect cycling condition and lanes with right of way.  Even the hills prostrate themselves for the bicycle.  Once the relief of easy riding conditions has worn off, the realisation hits that you miss the hills, and the adrenaline of lorries zooming past.   You miss the fight for your space on the road.  In The Netherlands there is no fight, the cars tip toe round you and there is nothing to interrupt your rhythm as you pedal on.  I found myself changing gear out of boredom, starved of variety.  The flat landscape also does nothing to halt the wind which blew briskly in my face for my last two days of riding.

Utrecht

Dutch cyclists seem to glide around elegantly, powering their way through the wind in a phenomenally high gear compared to my frantic peddling.  At one point I spotted an elder gentleman, sat upright in his saddle, brown shell suit catching the headwind like a sail.  I assumed this pensioner would be simple to catch and overtake yet as I ducked down to streamline myself for the pursuit the stubborn gap failed to shorten.  I powered on, determined to catch the man who's legs, one assumed, must be hard as iron to power himself, sail and all, through the strong headwind.  I was mesmerized by the man who was the focus of my attention for quite some time.  After 20 minutes of straining I caught up with the flying Dutchman who, much to my relief, revealed his secret, clicking off his electric bike as he turned off the road to his house.

Again I have been overwhelmed by the generosity of strangers.  My first night was spent with a lovely child psychologist called Josephine in the lovely Utrecht.  My last two nights were with the very thoughtful Joost, a tax advisor, who has shown me the sights of Arnhem and drunk beer with me by the Rhine.  He even managed to get me on a bike when I was meant to be resting my legs.   Its interesting to hear the same political discussions in newspapers here as in the UK, with the rise of anti-EU parties quickly capturing a significant minority of votes.  The same xenophobia of foreign workers taking jobs and stigma of the jobless who don't work hard enough.  Tomorrow I will leave the Netherlands for Germany and a new stranger offering me a couch.

I'm actually doing this

As my (now ex) front door clicked shut and left me locked out, a question repeatedly ran through my head, "what on earth am I doing?"  This is the nearest thing to a panic attack I have had.  The whole situation seemed ludicrous, but at this point I have very little choice.  I'm actually doing this.

The last two days have been an emotional roller coaster.  An hour of cold rainy headwind was a particular low point, reversed by a glimmer of sunlight as the road turned downhill and I started to feel my fingers again.  About five miles before arriving both times I felt the premature elation of arriving before realising slowly that I still was a way off.  However this only seems to accentuate the bliss of climbing off the bike knowing I'm not going to fail today.

Who says men can't multitask:
cycling, navigating and taking a pic

The most striking epiphany I've had so far was invoked by my first host.  Heather didn't know me at all but took me in, fed me and gave me a guided tour of Chelmsford.  She had no agenda and took nothing.  It was this fulsome hospitality that eased my doubts and reminded me that we need people.  Her hospitality not only gave me the essential shelter and sustenance I needed but also the encouragement that out there people are kind.  This reminded me of my last night in London with good friends, one of whom (the ever thoughtful Amy), gave me the chocolate eggs that powered me through the first day.  My brother was also there.  He bought me my saddle to cradle my bum as gently as possible for as far as I get.   Tony wasn't there but he sold me his bike at a very reasonable price and threw in some extras for free.  Renata taught me how to stretch and told me what to eat to stay healthy.  El lent me her titanium spork which is apparently an essential touring companion.  The people from Tech 21 sponsored me with an Ipad and an Impactology case.  It is this Ipad that directs me as I meander through strange places.  They are also writing a blog you can find at www.tech21.com/blog/ware-is-he.

Mrs. Slocum

While I wait for my ferry at Harwich I will leave you with a picture of Mrs Slocum who's breakfast I mashed this morning as she's getting old and her teeth arn't up to much.

The Coffin

Leaving a job take some time.  The morning after my last day at work, my mind clicks back to preparing for clients.  I'm thinking of things I forgot to say and do and even compose an email to my (now ex) boss from my bed.  My top tip for leaving work is to shred your to do list, whether finished or not.  The uncompromising teeth of the shredder have no discernment.  They gobble down my unfinished to do list at the same rate as every other document, and all of a sudden I have cut ties with all I have been doing.  Destroying the hook that pulls the load, unshackling me from my work.  But like the stretched leather and worn in grooves of a saddle, so the effects of work don't just disappear.  It takes time and the use of oneself for other purposes to reshape and remold a person for a new way of being.  

The Coffin 

And now, five days away from D-Day (departure day) I'm starting to fret about things. Rabies, for example, from untamed Bulgarian dogs or that I've still never cycled 60 miles in a day and the super light-weight tent I bought resembles a coffin.  I'm hoping to spend as little time in the coffin as possible and plan to use the brilliant website www.couchsurfing.org to arrange my accommodation.  I have already planned my first stay in Chelmsford with a stranger who seems lovely and has kindly agreed to let me sleep on a floor.  Its now time to start asking strangers in Holland and Germany to host me.  

I have also decided to add some philanthropy to my otherwise self indulgent adventure and will be raising money for a great charity called Bethany Village Leprosy Society (BVLS).  BVLS works to provide jobs through social enterprise to those living with the effects of leprosy in India.  I have been to Bethany village and seen the vibrant community created with the support of BVLS.  If you would like to support me you can donate at uk.virginmoneygiving.com/wareami.