Countries: 3 (England, Netherlands, Germany)
Distance so far: 706km
There hasn’t been much time for this, primarily due to our usual habit of arriving at our destination late enough to need food and drink urgently. Last night it was 8pm, tonight we managed the relatively healthy 7pm - but after 350km of (let’s be honest Germany) pretty boring roads! We even considered hitting the autaobahns, but by the time we discussed that grabbing a coffee (and no bags of chips, honest) in a Burger King (it was all there was!) it was too late. We stuck with the N214 or whatever it was by then and negotiated our way around trucks and buses and slowed down every 20 metres or so for a junction - because apparently you have to! 70kph manadatory seems to be the case every time you come to any little turn off, church, or bus stop! And of course come a village its 50kph. Progress was not rapid today.
However, what the hell. We had started the day (a mere 20km from our overnight stop in Rhenen) at the Airborne Museum Hartenstein in Oosterbeek, just outside Arnhem, an old country house, turned hospital, turned army HQ, which commemorated the fallen at the Battle of Arnhem at which British, American, Canadian and Polish troops tried to take the bridge over the Rhine in September 1944, just 3 months after D-Day. Much of France and Belgium had been reoccupied but the Netherlands remained In Nazi hands. The bridge in Arnhem was a strategic position wanted by the Allies but as any one who has seen the film it was a “bridge too far”. Much heroism is recorded in the excellent museum and I understand that five Victoria Crosses were awarded for valour. But ultimately it was a failure for the Allies, though of course it only delayed the inevitable (by this time) and instead of taking the bridge the Allies actually bombed it to smithereens only a month later, to stop the Germans using it.
Probably too much history there, but it was an excellent place to spend our first couple of hours even if it made it the inevitable starting off on the bulk of the journey post meridian (as usual).
We also spent a half hour or so paying our respects to the fallen at the Commonweath War Graves Commission maintained cemetery just a few hundred meters away. All in all a brilliant if sobering morning.
Rob took this. Award winner apparently. (Why I am bothering to acknowledge the photos I nick, I have no idea!)
And the museum had coffee, toasted sandwiches and muffins in the garden too! Other than the 330km that left out of 350, a resounding success!
But I better back up a little…
First there was ferry crossing to negotiate.
The North Sea looks kinda small on a map, but crossing it even as low down as Harwich to Rotterdam takes over 7 hours. But … with foresight I didn’t know I actually had, I booked us into the premium lounge and a bit like waiting for a plane we were treated to snacks, coffee, cake and (had we not had bikes to drive off at the other end) beer! (And Eric took this, I am forced to admit)
Ah, the joys of driving a motorbike onto a ferry. Slippery metal ramps followed by wet metal floors and the challenge of strapping your own bike to the floor to ensure it isn’t horizontal on arrival. But they usually do that for you.
Leaving us bunch of incompetent idiots to do our own was terrifying and we fully expected to have to pick them up at the other end. But as luck would have it, turns out we aren’t actually that incompetent and all bikes were upright when we were reacquainted with them in Hook of Holland ferry terminal. A straight blast on major roads was necessary to get to our hotel about 120km or so from the port, which had us parked up by 8pm and ravenous. As usual our language skills were not put to the test due to the multilingual Dutch who spoke perfect English with charm and an openness we could do with learning something from.
Monday’s initial meeting was, as ever, not without its drama. Plans to meet in our usual greasy spoon for a late breakfast were scuppered first by the weather, then by Rob’s late return from a family wedding and then a rearranged dental appointment for me. So we ended up in crappy Starbucks on the Braintree bypass at 4pm for coffee and cake - we know how to live. But its proximity to Harwich where our ‘Spoons awaited us made it ideal for a final hour push along the busy A120, filtering as we went, apparently to the utter disgust of some Essex boy racer in a red something or other who thought we had insulted his manhood or something by not being stuck in traffic. I know you are not reading this but … FU, read your Highway Code! But here we are ready for the off, watched over by Queen Victoria.
And so it was we spent our evening with me thrashing them at Shithead, scoffing cheap and probably rubbish food before retiring to my (horror of horrors) room without a window! What?! What are you thinking Wetherspoons? You’ve never let me down before but this room was not acceptable! It did have skylight, but that didn’t open and a restless night was had by little old me. As it happens that is not unusual the first night out but I am blaming ‘Spoons. I shall be writing a letter! To the Daily Mail. And what made it worse was that Rob and Eric had floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the sea (actually the high street but I can exaggerate for effect and to moan about the other two). And they claim they saw dolphins - again!
All in the wrong order, but to be honest who cares. It’s rarely more than a random ramble anyway and we are currently holed up on the outskirts of Hannover in our Ibis Budget (cheap as chips), full of good Chinese food, and probably in need of sleep soon.
Tomorrow we head for the Bergen-Belsen Momorial which will doubtless be even more sobering, and then onwards towards the Polish border. Turns out that Rob speaks some decent German, a light he has been hiding under his bushel, but it will be a fat lot of use in about 36 hours. So we better make the most of it. We have just booked another interesting hotel for tomorrow night somewhere near Berlin, but avoiding the city as the footie is just about to start. Although I have to admit to being slightly disappointed that we will be in Poland by the time the mighty Tartan Army take on Germany in the opening game on Friday night. So a Polish pub it will have to be. Watch this space…
I’ll finish for tonight with the obligatory selfies, as usual taken by the man with the long arms. We look happy - at this stage we don’t know if the bikes will stay upright!
Leaving England for a while.
The Garden at Hartenstein, Oosterbeek (think I have had my coffee by then)
Comments