July 20, 2013
Day 9: Brielle to Katwijk aan Zee
As I write these words, Penelope is in her sleeping bag, and I am sitting outside the tent, sipping a Duvel Belgian beer, and enjoying .. no, revelling in this holiday. I honestly cannot imagine how it could have been improved. To cycle through three countries, accompanied by a beautiful, funny, blazingly intelligent woman, and to enjoy good food, stunning countryside, and fabulous weather... come on : can it get any better than this? I neglected to take a shower this morning, because I'm a lazy bastard. Penelope took a shower, and I packed up the tent. We were a bit peeved that there were absolutely no bins anywhere near the pitch, so we had to carry them on our brake hoods, and dump them at reception. Some nice bikes, those Czech folk, all the same...
We set out, following the 'nodes' as we had done previously, and relying on the GPS when the node signs disappeared - which, believe it or not, they do rather more frequently than we would prefer.
The road up to the Hague was utterly stunning, and we found ourselves riding through rolling fields, along charming canal routes, and occasionally through cool, refreshing forests.
Eventually, we got to Maasluis - or rather, to the ferry which took us across the water to Maasluis.
TC and I had stopped there on Consolidation - The Three Nations Tour (France - Belgium - Netherlands), and I was tempted to go and see if the waitress who had helped us, was there.
We cycled slowly through Maasluis, delighting in its narrow, sinewy streets, and flower-garnished homes. Not as nice as Brielle, but living in this town would be no hardship.
I love the Netherlands. I really, really love this country. It's just so small, so peaceful, so laid-back, so... nice. Yes, that's it. It's a nice place. I know that there must be crime here, because they have a police force, and they have a courts system, and they have prisons. But seriously, cycling through the gorgeous countryside, where drivers invariably stop to let cyclists cross the road, or where they crawl along patiently behind bicycles until they can pass safely.. it's hard to imagine that anyone breaks the law here. I love it. In the event, we got lost. OK, well we got slightly waylaid, but soon, we were back on the nodes, streaking towards Amsterdam at the speed of love. *sticks fingers down throat* After that vomit-inducing interlude (and Penelope actually did pull a face like she was going to heft up her lunch, when I came out with the above), we pushed on through the Hague. It would not be an exaggerration to say that it is a fairly ugly city. Of course, we didn't see the centre, with what are undoubtedly fifty musuems, art galleries and arty cafés per square metre. Indeed, our route seemed to take us through the outskirts with its skanky quarters.
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Eventually, after forty-one miles, our wheels took us to the Camping Zuidduinen near the coast. We paid 22 EUR for the night, which is reasonable, but then, they basically just took us around next to the carpark, and showed us a patch of grass. I'm constantly amazed that campsites get to charge such prices for what is essentially a field.
But then, I'm no economist. Bed.
Today's ride: 41 miles (66 km)
Total: 221 miles (356 km)
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