Paris - Leer, September 85

Friday

One year has gone meanwhile and I got the idea to cycle tours all over Europe by the time, perhaps combining the end of one tour with the start of the next. So for the very beginning it was to go from Paris to Leer/Ostfriesland, the final point of my last-year trip. Moreover this direction promises tail winds, for the wind at most blows from the west.

At the railwaystation I must realize, that I am a novice concerning tours to foreign countries. I can NOT carry my bike with me in the train, it has to be sent as luggage. Now at the very day I will start myself it is uncertain, that the bike arrives at Paris in time. The officers promise to do their best.

So I feel uncertain when I enter the night train from Hannover to Paris. The conductor is French already and collects the passports for the control at the frontier during the night. In spite of all those excitements I sleep well and in the morning we are not far from Paris, where we arrive 7am at Gare du Nord. There is much folk rushing around, people seem to come from all nations over the world. The only thing I cannot watch out is my bike hanging at a transport waggon.

After I have written a postcard to my family at home I enter the luggage bureau and now suffer of my bad language abilities. Something like "bicyclet" or "velo" accompanied by the papers are good enough to be understood. The officer goes back into the catacombes of the bureau to look for the bike. And really the wonder happens, he returns WITH the bike.

Now everything is clear, the panniers are fixed and I enter the street in front of the Gare du Nord. The taste of freedom is in my mind. So there are several individuals sleeping upon the pavement or above the shafts of the Metro (where it is warm). The shoe of one of those guys has passed the respective ankle up to the knee ... I want to see flowers, fields and forests and start to leave Paris in northern direction.

Now another lack of my equipment comes up. I have a road map scaled 1:1.000.000 and it is more than 15 years old (during the 60s I once was in Paris by auto stop). So I cannot find any route from the map and use the signmaps of the metro instead. I head to the north, hoping to reach the final end of this huge capital city. But highways, shopping centers, parkhouses and so on, everything made for the motorized drivers make things difficult. Finally I reach a river and a picturesque scene may be it's the Seine? Along the shore at the promenade I head to the north furtheron.

ST. Denis and the Seine

Again there are super markets, fuel stations, ugly apartment blocks and much traffic. Finally I find the first known town on my map: Pontoise, and I cross the river Oise. Instead to visit the center of this perhaps nice town I stay at the mainroad leading towards Rouen/Le Havre and leaving the town aside by a wide arc. Soon I leave this main road but now I get lost in a wide area of  new built blocks or construction sites. And so on and so on.

At last I enter a fuel station. Fortunatelly the guy there speaks some English and so I can orientate myself and find the further way. I now have made 50 km from this morning and still have not found the way out of Paris? But now there are less buildings and more green when I enter a smaller road towards Marines. And this town looks like a French one - as you would imagine it. It seems the tour can begin now.

French cemetery

catakombs

I pass the towns Gisors and Gournay, impressed of the scenery, a cathedral or an old bridge. At Forges-les-Eaux I discover an even smaller road on my map towards Gaillefontaine and find out, that this road really continues. It is a wonderful route along the river Arques via Neuchatel to Dieppe.

Cathedral at Gisors

Old bridge

Now I must look for an accomodation and stroll through the narrow streets. At a shabby house there is a sign: "Chambre" and I ring the bell. Finally an elder wife looking like her house appears and sends me away because the bike is not in her sense. This would be the better thing anyway and so I enter a comfortable hotel nearby, they speak English, and I soon get a nice room.

After the regeneration I go for a a walk, find a restaurant to eat and finally "enjoy" a big fire of a storehouse at the harbour. Some black spots on my plastic coat are souvernirs from this event.

Saturday: Dieppe - Boulogne

Though I have a fine sleep somewhere in the night I hear a splashing of rain on the roofs and full of doubts think of the next day. And so it is raining during breakfast time and later. But I must get off the room and so fix my bike for the start. Before I go out for a walk - today there is a big market and much to be seen. Especially shells, fish, shrimps etc., known as fruits of the sea. As the rain gets less I enter the road along the coast. There is an up and down all the time, for each creek or river forces you down to the sea level, afterwards you have to climb up to the plane above the steep cliff again.

While it is raining you get wet from above and from aside by the passing traffic. Behind Criel-sur-Mer it is hard to go up some hairpins accompanied by a cloudburst. But then the rain stops and I reach the nice villages Le Treport and Mers-les-Baines. A scenic harbour and picturesque houses ornated by nice balconies.

Harbour at Le Treport

Balconies

But now I have a puncture at the rear wheel. At a muddy place I fix the matter with stiff fingers, there is water enough to find the puncture of the tube. As I start again towards Crotoy ahead, they just enjoy the cloudburst there. I realize that the tire does not go round properly, so further on this thing must be fixed near the valve. And then, some 100 meters later: the flat again. I nearly cry. There is a creek and a bridge, the next place for a repair. Of course I missed to inspire the tire for a nail or a fragment of glas before and now I find a small piece of stone sticking through the tire.

At last I can ride again, having learned to fix a repair under uncomfortabele circumstances. In spite of this or because of all those excitements I now feel in a splendid mood. Now we pass Rue and Quend. Some time I follow a sporty dressed biker who is older already but somewhat irritated, that I follow him with my panniers. Some time later our ways seperate.

In the early afternoon I reach Etaples, a larger town, where I hope to find an accomodation. But even near the railway station at a gloomy etablissement some individuals sign me "Occupee" and I say thanks. May be it's for the weekend and many tourists around?

So I have to go on to Boulogne, nearly 30 km more and I do this mechanically, no hotel or restaurant on the way. At Boulogne there is a junction, a steep road coming from the right. While I think about this dangerous place I hear a scratching noise behind me and when I turn around, I see a motor cyclist lying under a car. I am no helper and am not curious about such things, so I will never know more about this accident.

In Boulogne there are many hotels, but all are full. And now I hear the reason: British holidays are to finish, and so all tourists back from the continent collect at the coast to enter a ship next day. Hard for me and I go on without hope, not to sleep outside. For it is stormy and the white waves strike high above the quaiside.

It starts to get dark and I reach Wimmereux, the next village. I enter a restaurant or bar with suspicious red lanterns etc. A woman who seems to be right here speaks English and is very kind. Instead of inviting me for a pleasant sweet night she phones up the opposite hotel and tells me I can go there. With a sigh of relief I cross the street and walk into the reception of the hotel. A middle aged woman just refuses a couple from Paris for accomodation. So what is my chance? I do not look like a gentleman but may be because of this I get the key for a room. Rarely I was more delighted.

At the room on the other way I discover various defects at electric and other amatures. I do not care, I only need a roof, as it will rain a lot this night, as we will see. How would have been the night outside?

Finally I look for a restaurant (but not that with the red lanterns) to eat and have a couple of vines (or beers).

Sunday: Boulogne - Brugge

Nevertheless we have a nice breakfast. How to expect I share the table with an English family telling this and that. So I hear that the folks of Paris are not very popular around here. May be they would not accept all these defects and inadequacy of this house. Whistlening I start for Calais happy to have fine weather today. The countryside is wonderful, the road leading up and down and the wind blows from behind as expected.

On Sunday many French cyclists are on the road, but all dressed in lycra shirts and using racing bikes. And all shout something to me and I cry "Salut". At many places you see relicts from the war, huge bunker systems, at some slopes you see the craters of the bombs yet. Who wants to know more about this episode should visit the war museum. All I know is, that the Germans expected the D-Day or invasion at this area, but they came more at the west and the Germans slept well.

Landscape near Calais

In Calais a big fleemarket takes place but I want to go on. At Gravelines I have a rest and take a picture of my own "Between sun and rain". The last town in France is Dunkerque (Dünkirchen), where some history happened or did not happen, you will know the story Some Kilometers ahead there is the Belgium border.

Between sun and rain

In Belgium at first you find special bike trails aside the road, as not usual in France. I stay at the coast, meanwhile we have reached the Northern Sea. There is too much tourism around here, so I leave Oostende behind and don't like it. I decide to go towards Brugge, where I was 15 years ago and enjoyed it.

After the last 30 km and at the early evening I arrive in Brugge. A strange feeling again concerning the accomodation: a big festival takes place, tourists - many from Japan - stroll around and try to find the world through their cameras. May be the festival is over for I soon get a hotel by the tourist office at the market place. The hotel is at the market place too and cheap, I am happy.

I have a nice evening with walking around through "the Venice of the North" as the say, because there are some canals between old fashioned houses. I enter an Italian Restaurarant at the market and reflect about 15 years ago, if we visited this same restaurant at that time.

Monday: Brugge - Brielle

It is a dull morning and I start to the Dutch border. Now I change money for the third currency on this trip. I pass the town Sluis with a typical Dutch impression. It's allowed here to bike in pedestrian zones and in opposite direction of one way streets. If there is an prohibition sign you can read: "Uitgesonderd Fietsers", that means "Forbidden, but Not for bicycles". Motorized bikes (mopeds) are called "bromfietsen" and bike trails "fietspad". Funny words!

The next aim is the ferry boat from Breskens to Vlissingen crossing the Westershelde. During the crossing it starts to drizzle. At the arrival at Vlissingen the rain becomes stronger. There should be a signed bike trail towards Goes, but the signs are not good enough for me and soon I get lost in the pouring rain. But you never get really lost in a civilised country and find the correct route after some time again. Once I try to protect from the rain under a bridge, but soon I feel cold and better continue to ride. Now I am going to the north an have a headwind this time.

Finally I reach the longest bridge of Europe (at 1985): the "Zeelandbrug" crossing the Ostershelde. The length of the bridge is nearly 5 km and it leads on high stilts above the sea so every ship can pass beneath. At the other shore there is Zierikzee, a scenic town with canals, drawbridge, windmill an everything you want.

Zieriksee

The Zeelandbrug

We are now on the island Schouwen and go north. The land is flat and not much to be seen. Behind Scharendijke you pass the Brouwersdam with sunshine and wind from behind. At this site there are a lot of surfing folks, who like the strong winds and come from areas far away. The coloured sails give a scenic picture at the blue sea. Besides that there is one or another snack kiosk to get a drink or something to eat. In the mid of the dam there is a watergate for the out or incoming floods. They produced these buildings as part of the Delta Plan to prevent a big flood catastrophe in the Rhine/Maass area as it happened in the 50s.

Again we are on an island between the arms of the mouth delta of the Rhine. May be the sun helps to look flowers and fields so nice now. Finally I reach Ouddorp and the last dam, the Haringvlietdamm crossing the last course of the Shelde.

Flowers and hay

Canal at Brielle

I find a snack bar at the opposite side of the road and have beefsteak and chips or something like that. Back in my room I watch the Dutch television program, some popsongs and a strange contest with games in mud and water help to forget linguistic problems.

Tuesday: Brielle - Alkmaar

With at last fine weather today and well recovered I start into the morning. Some bridges and finally a ferry lead to Maassluis. This is an industrial area not far from Rotterdam. Then I head towards Delft to see the first nice windmills and to use trails leading along canals. The way into the center of Delft I am accompanied by a friendly cyclist who shows me the way. At the market place in front of the venerable city hall all kinds of tourists stroll around, lots of busses at the parking lots. Everywhere you can find porcelain shops, may be it is better to keep the bicycle outside there. At one of these shops I buy some glazed tiles with motives from Delft for everyone of my family who stayed at home. Carefully packed into some stocking or so I finally will succed to bring this stuff at home undamaged.

City Hall at Delft

Now the route leads somewhat zigzagging via Zoetermeer to Leiden, a historical university town. With a piece pastry in the hand I get something of the atmosphere of this place and then continue. Now well known towns like Hillegom and Haarlem follow. The great season here is during spring time when the tulips are in bloom, but now it is September. The main street where I am riding is not very interesting. At last I leave this road and head to a village with the strange name Castricum. Finally I arrive at the city of Alkmaar, a town completely unknown to me.

Alkmaar

So I am even more surprised to find a jewel here. A big fair just takes place, again I fear for my accomodation. For it is early enough today I can get a private address at the tourist office. This is cheaper and you are heartily welcome by the family Leek at the Oudegracht. They are very interested to hear of my tour and do anything to give me a nice time.

So I end this day in a fish restaurant though Alkmaar is the town of cheese. There is a famous cheese market at some time. Then I make a round tour through the pictorial roads and aside the small canals (Grachten). Finally I find myself at a beer bar, but for the lack of the Dutch language I feel somewhat out of place among the other guys.

Wednesday: Alkmaar - Groningen, 210 km

Northhollandkanal

On this day I await the longest distance of my former and later bike activities but in this early morning this is still unknown to me. With a wonderful weather I start to the northern areas of Holland. At the Northpoint waits the dam or dike of the Ijsselsea (Afsluitdik), and to pass the Ijsselsea across this dam shall become the superlative sensation of the tour.

But first some work is to do, aside the Northholland Canal and via small roads - completely flat erverywhere - 50 km through typical Dutch landscape. Just before the coast there is a settlement called "Anna Paulowna" which sounds like a Russian name. In "Van Ewijcksluis" I reach the coast, here is already a small dam to pass which seperates the Amstelsea from the Northern Sea. Then one passes the two places "Hippolytushoeff" and "Den Oever". Here I buy some more proviant and now the crossing of the Ijsseldam can come on.

The Dam at the Ijsselsea

But wait a moment: at the begin of the dam and dike we stop and get a rest, breathe deep and peer at the wide surroundings as sailors do. For it is a bit hazy we cannot see the opposite coast of the Ijsselsea, about 30 km away from here. But it is a nice view, the sun sparkles at the sea and is reflected by the waves, seabirds cry in the air, some loudless ships swim at the horizon. The coastline of the island Texel is to be seen already. While I eat my bread I watch a couple of biketourers coming along at this eye of the needle. There is few car traffic, I would never change now with a driver of a car.

Finally I go off, the strong tail wind on the dam blows from behind so you nearly can forget to pedal or you run with a proper speed respectively. The cycle track is on the sea side of the dike, the motorized traffic is forced to the other side. At the middle of the dam you cannot see land in either direction. Sometime ahead the outlines of houses and trees appear, then you approach continental land. At this speed we have spent just an hour for the 30 km. The next rest is made at the pictorial place Harlingen.

For the following part of the tour through "Westfriesland" you should spend more time and stay near to the coastline. But I see the end of the tour ahead and feel no desire for any detours. So we go on with fast speed to Leeuwarden. A nice town again, the main street at both sides of a canal. I enter a snackbar and think about the further way, there are 60 km yet to Groningen, may be they can be done today. By now I made 100 km, but as I can figure out, I could reach Groningen before it gets dark

At first however it is necessary to find out of Leeuwarden. And I do not succeed for I trust to my feeling and get lost in an industrial area. Think to have lost 1 hour by this.

Landscape near Groningen

Later at the main road you cycle with pleasure for as everywhere in Holland an excellent bike track leads aside the road. Otherwise the landscape offers few alternation, windmills and towers of the churches are located in the villages far away. Here we see the green green grass and crossing watercourses or canals. I reach Groningen at about 7 pm.

As usual the next fact terrifies me. Groningen is crowded by folks visiting a festival or fair, besides that the Dutch Championship in Roller Skating takes place. They tell me there is no chance to find a hotel anywhere. Some times I try to ask somewhere but without any success. The problem is: behind Groningen there is nothing and probably no hotel or pension at all. If erverything fails, I could ride throughout the night and be back in Germany the next morning.

So I can slow down now, there is nothing important to do any more. Groningen is a big town, so I need some time to get through. There is a snackbar and I can buy some stuff to drink. Moreover I ask for an accomodation for the last time and they tell me a fairy tale. One km ahead, they say, there is a guesthouse for sailors and truck drivers, may be I could find a room there. I cannot believe in this but with new hope rush ahead.

As a matter of course in this situation I get a flat tire again, but the pump helps to manage this last km. And at the guesthouse: no problem at all, but for dinner I should come within the next 30 minutes before the kitchen will close. I do!!!

The old saying: "Never had a better meal" shall I use it again? Perhaps you wait for it so may be it is true this time (until the next time)...
And a nice sleep will follow, the first time in my life I have exceeded 200 km at one day!

Thursday: Groningen - Leer

In the morning at first I fix the flat tire and after breakfast start to the final section of the tour. It will be a half day only. To avoid the main road I drive a northern road via Noordbroek, Midwolda and other well known places. At last I reach a bridge and this is closed for restauration, 10 km detours are available of course. I try to get in contact to the workers who are grinning already. They tell me the bridge is closed. I laugh at them too, make a sign to my sleeping bag and say I have much time to wait. And then the workers tell me, 15 minutes later they will stop for a rest, at then I can cross the bridge. So another happy end and some time later I reach Beerta, Klein Ulsda and Nieuweschans, the village at the border.

I use a signed bike track and after some time I find myself in Germany without having noticed the frontier at all. I change the rest of Dutch money and finally manage the last 15 km to Leer. Will you believe that I do hard now? It is a psychological effect, the tension has gone and you wait for the very end. And this is a train without change to Braunschweig, where I arrive in the evening.

So this was the first section of various bike tours in Europe and Germany. This report was written in German Nov 89 (4 years later) and translated Jan 99.