Day 82: Amsterdam to Katwijk

October 8, 2013

The Sloten mill. Mills like these are typically from the 1700's and 1800's

Rembrandt lived and worked near here. At the sloten mill this statue of him and Saskia commemorates that fact.

On June 18, 2011 two cyclists were hiding from torrential rains in a motel in Weyburn, Saskachewan , as close to the middle of nowhere as it gets. News spread among the "rig pigs" (oil workers) that a third bedraggled cyclist had been brought in by a pickup truck. The next day, the three made a successful bust out through the flood waters, and eventually independently reached distant Montreal, where they held a brief reunion.

The two cyclists were the Grampies, and the third was Juul. Of the three, Juul was by far the most experienced, having cycled all over the world, every year for 35 years! Though Juul was (and is) much much faster than the Grampies, he stopped early and waited for them over a few days. In those evenings, Juul (a former teacher) could remove some of the Grampies ignorance about Europe. Juul lives in Katwijk, South Holland. One thing he explained was the difference between Netherlands and North and South Holland.

We visited Juul at home last year. Now that we are in Amsterdam (North Holland) again, we naturally have to get to Katwijk to see Juul again. (Juul is long back from his summer cycle. The bum did the bit we missed out - Bordeaux to Nantes to Angers to Caens to Dunkirque, through Belgium, and back to Amsterdam.)

Rather than head straight to Katwijk, we headed straight to the airport hotel, where we had stashed our duffle bags. Dodie was more eager to visit them than even to visit Juul. In fact, we grabbed them and got them to come along, piled high on the back of my bike.

Next stop was the camping on the other side of Schiphol. his turned out to have cabins for rent, for €27 per night. These are nicely finished in panelling, but a sort of solid tents. They have a power outlet and a light, table and chairs, and bare bunk beds for two. We thought they were great. We put down our €102 and became Amsterdam residents, at least for four days. Then, we headed for Katwijk.

The neighbours. The bikes are just a few of the rental bikes they have here.

We had used the GPS to get from last night's hotel to the Vondel Park and so to the airport, and then the camping. But now we reverted to the knopuunt guidance system that helps make getting around in Netherlands by bike a dream. we wrote down a list of about 20 ordered points, and set off. Starting from 86, our first station was point 89. We crossed a lift bridge and ended up in Schiphol, no point 89. We cast about, left 1/2 km, right 1/2 km, back to 86, etc. Well hell, we no longer had all day to get to Katwijk!

So this is where Shane popped out of the pavement. "Need some directions?" Shane put us on the right track. We looked carefully at what happened. No question about it. The sign for the turn toward 89 simply was not there. It's very common for someone to offer help when they see lost looking cyclists. But we now see (after just a little peek) that Shane was not common. He gave us his card, which says One man, one dream, one long ride. Check out his web site, www.shanecycles.com, you'll see what I mean.

We spoke to Shane for 15 secconds only. He had to get to work. That's all we know right now, but he sure seems like a Crazyguy!

The knooppunt system. Maps like this are at many "stations"

Shane, road angel and serious touring cyclist

The route that we had mapped out to Katwijk happened to lead right by a canal for most of the distance. We followed this from knoopunt to knoopunt, but really it was a straight run.

Along this way we saw many of the things we have come to expect in Holland, like the canal itself, cute little houses, windmills, and of course cycle paths. However on this particular way, none of these were as WOW as we have found in other parts. It's hard for a country to wear it's party dress for you in every single place. Still, it was an enjoyable ride.

That is, until we had to cross to the other side of the canal, and the bridge was under construction. Construction! the nemesis of anyone who has preplanned a route, or has a GPS.

We turned back, the only option. But shortly we spied an unmarked, generally nondescript little boat. There was a man sitting nearby on a bench, with his girfriend. I said in English "Is this a ferry?" The reply was somethig in Dutch, with a chuckle. I interpreted this to mean something like "Well maybe, but you would have to figure out how to work it". Hmmm. Dodie on the other hand, just piled onto the little thing with her bike, so I followed. I spent a long 5 seconds thinking "Am I really going to drive this thing?" when the man left the bench, got behind the wheel and revealed himself to actually be the driver. We were then across in 15 seconds, and on our way.

The next construction did not let us by so easily. Our route lead us into a maze of big roads, chewed up or still full of cars, and since this is Holland, a maze of cycle ways provided in, around, buut maybe not through the mess. We tried this way and that and kept getting shot off in completely the wrong direction. Dodie had a long chat with a construction worker, and I thought it was because he filled her northern European ideal - big and blond. But then he came over to me and said "That woman sure is stubborn!", so I guess they did not hit it off that well. He then repeated his advice on which way to go, which would have shot us to Leiden, far to the South. I showed him my GPS screen, but he stuck to his guns. I think the relationship foundered more because he was stubborn!

We ended up detouring north, about 3 km, and then followed th GPS rather than knoopunts in to Juul. When we got there, he was amazed that we had taken an hour to travel the last 5 km. Actually, 5 km/hour is not all that bad, for the Grampies!

One of our favourite signs, has lead to a completely distorted family expression: Let Op, Drempel!

"Real" Dutch cheese. Juul scoffed when he saw this package. Later at his house he gave us really real Beemster cheese.

Let's share the road, except bikes get most of it. Yeah!

The square, not so pretty face of all the Dutch sheep.

Bridge, under construction. Note knooppuunt sign pointing to the water

Another of our favourite signs and basis of new family word. We now overcome obstakels.

Dodie did not really hit it off with this blond Dutch guy

Our first request was to go to Juul's favourite Chinese restaurant. They know him well there, and last year we liked how they just brought out a nice selection of dishes, without us specifically choosing them. The owner and staff all spoke perfect Dutch. I could hear that it was perfect, even though I had no idea what was said. It's amazing how Chinese people have succeeded so well in integrating into societies where they have immigrated. Even though born in Quebec, for example, our French is halting. Not so with these folks, and the by the way, the food was great.

Juul keeps detailed paper logs of his travels, and takes lots of photos, but does not write on Crazyguy. So we had to get the story of Bordeaux to Amsterdam live. In part, that's why this bit of the blog is being written late - that is, the next morning. Oh well, people in North America are or should be in bed now, and people in Europe are or should be at work. So if you are reading this in real time, go to bed, or to work!

Going through Juul's most recent ride, Bordeaux to Amsterdam. He is sticking close to home to care for his Dad, soon to be 100!

Today's ride: 68 km (42 miles)
Total: 5,492 km (3,411 miles)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	0
Comment on this entry	Comment	0