When I went to bed it was raining.  When I woke up it was raining.  When I was packing away it was raining.  I ate breakfast in the damp vestibule of the tent, staring at the wet grass.  Thankfully the campsite had a laundry room, so I hung out the inner tent and ground sheet to dry whilst I was packing everything else away.  The outer shell of the tent was completely soaked inside and out.  My shoes were sodden, my bags were all damp and, by this time, the dry clothes I’d put on in the morning were wet again too.

I was finally ready to leave around 10:30, it was still raining.  I rode the 4km back along the dead-end road I was on (without taking the cycle path this time!) and joined the main road.

My breaks had worn down so much yesterday that they now were barely slowing me down, let alone stopping me!  But if ever I’d had the feeling like I was in the middle of nowhere, it was here.  There wasn’t really anything except managed woodlands, farms and tiny villages.  But perhaps the next village has a bike shop?  You never know.

Luckily it was uphill to the next village.  A lot of uphill.  But there was no bike shop there.  Luckily it was uphill again to the following village.  So much uphill!  I hope I find one before I have to go down again…

I saw a man on his bike collecting his son from Kindergarten and asked about bike shops.  He said there was one in the very next village, only 3km away – hurrah!  He was even going that way for a bit, so we rode together uphill and chatted between catching our breath, neither willing to slow the other one down.  When he had to turn off, he pointed me on a small road through the fields and gave me directions to the bike shop.

After the fields, I came to the top of a hill with a warning sign that the descent was 12%.  Gulp.  I pulled over to try and make the best of my shitty brakes.  They were worn down so far past the wear line that they were giving off weird grey goo when they scraped on the rims.  I tightened them up so that I could at least use them and hoped that they wouldn’t wear out completely and ruin my rims on the way down.

It was a steep hill but not that long and I made it down, letting the front brakes off half way down because they started making a funny noise.  Now I was in a tiny village.  This place has a bike shop?  I rode along ‘main street’, that was nothing but fancy country houses, took a side street past some more houses, then there it was – quite a big bike shop!  But it was closed until 3pm.  I phoned the number on the door, explained my predicament and the man said, “Wait, I’ll be right there.”.  And no sooner had he hung up than he was walking up the street towards me!  The shop belongs to his son, but he just lives next door and works here occasionally too.

He replaced both pairs of brake blocks and I was ready to hit the road again!  The way I had to go out of town was UP a 13% hill.  Shit, how is there so much uphill today?  I struggled to get up it – it was almost 1 km of 13%.  Then there was a short, gentle downhill to the next town.  Then straight back up again.

Leaving Medebach, I saw a bike sign for Winterberg, where I was heading.  From there, it said 22 km – about the same as taking the road.  So off I went along the cycle route.  (Haven’t I learned anything these last few days?!)

To my happy surprise, it was a beautiful new paved cycle path through the countryside. Up and down a few crazy inclines, through the fields, still in the pissing rain.  Then the path went past a farm and turned into a gravel track.  Then across a narrow wooden bridge over a river.  Then along a wet, muddy, overgrown trail.  It was hard work pedalling through the mud, over rocks, around puddles, through puddles.  I even had to ford a fucking stream – my feet got dunked and everything!  Not that they were any wetter as a result.

Then back onto a gravel track, then back onto a small road, phew.  At this point, a few cars went past me.  Where the hell they were coming from, I hadn’t the faintest clue.  But we were all heading to the main road, so I knew I was close.

Finally I came out onto the proper road and the sign said Winterberg 4 km.  Salvation awaits!  A bus full of pensioners went by and I waved and grinned at them from under my soggy raincoat.  Straight away on the road to salvation, I was going uphill again.  My tired, unenthusiastic legs weren’t exactly eating up the road.  ‘At this rate, I’ll be there in an hour’, I thought jokingly to myself.

It actually wasn’t a bad guess – it took 45 minutes, because it was uphill all the way.  I must have gained a bit of altitude today!

I arrived in Winterberg and rode down the main street, past enticing hotels and restaurants towards the campsite.  The campsite was quite out the way and I kept taking wrong turns, unable to check the tablet without being under cover.  After another half an hour of back and forth and up and down, I found it.  And the office was closed.

By this time, I’d really had enough of the whole thing and the thought of getting the sodden tent out in the fucking rain was unappealing to say the least.  My feet were cold and all my skin was rain-wrinkled.  I turned around and headed for a hotel.

After hanging all my stuff in the ski room to dry (so gloriously warm!), I enjoyed a shower that didn’t run out after 4 minutes and did my laundry.  Then I got myself a pizza and a beer and sat on the sofa in my room watching TV until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.  Oh yeah, worth every penny.

-Anna

I was worried that today was going to be the most boring day so far because I didn’t have far to go, but luckily the day had better things in store. I woke up to the pitter patter of rain falling on the tent. I thought I could wait it out, but it just kept coming. Eventually I started packing up. Putting away a wet 3-person tent by yourself when you can’t lay it on the gritty ground is really hard!

At 11:30am I was ready to hit the road. But where should I go? Without any wifi, I couldn’t look up a cycle route to the National Park. So I found the cycle path I’d arrived on yesterday to look for a sign towards somewhere useful. There was a signpost for Wolfhausen, which was vaguely the right way, so I took it.

It started off as a lovely cycle path along an old railway line. Then it went on a cycle path along a road, which was also fine. Then I got into the next town and the signposts disappeared. I checked the map and took a likely-looking path through the woods. It was difficult navigating, especially in the rain when I can’t get the tablet too wet. There was nobody around anywhere, which seemed weird for a Sunday. Even when I arrived in Wolfhausen, it was really quiet.

I hadn’t gone that far yet but it was 1pm and I was hungry. Of course, it’s Sunday again and on Sunday EVERYTHING is closed. Except cafes and restaurants. So I headed for a Greek restaurant and the waiter immediately brought be a shot of their home-made cherry liqueur, which was delicious and did wonders for my cough! A tasty lunch and hot chocolate later and had my route in Google maps and was ready to go back outside in the rain (ugh).

Once I got out of town, the route was along a ‘cycle path’ through the forest. At first it was a lovely little paved road and I tried not to think about how creepy the forest looked. It was used for forestry so it was all dark underneath, with the occasional cut-down trunk looking a little too much like a person squatting in amongst the trees. If it had been sunny, it would have been fine, but it was dark and the hood on my raincoat made it hard to hear properly or use my peripheral vision, so it was all the creepier.

Then my smooth little road turned into a gritty little track. And I came to a junction that wasn’t on the map. And the way that Google said I was supposed to go said ‘private, no entry’. There was clearly nobody around and I got the feeling that I shouldn’t be there at all, like it was only logging trucks that ever came down here. Then I heard a car coming and saw that it was a camo-painted Landover. Who owns a camo-painted Landrover?! Definitely only serial killers. I wanted to hide somewhere when it drove past but I didn’t have time and only saw the passenger staring unsmilingly at me out the window and they turned off just ahead of me. I’m in a horror film.

I took the track that lead back to the road and tried not to get taken out by the trip-wires that the serial killers had undoubtedly left out for me. When I made it to the road, I felt so much better! A little bit of space between the trees let the light in from above over the wider road and I could hear a car coming. I happily rode along, making sure my back light was on and in position.

At the end of the road, I had to join a bigger road and pulled over to sort out my luggage. With the tent wet, I’d had to split everything up differently and the way it was packed was pretty unwieldy. There are two bags on top of each other on the rack behind my saddle and they kept sliding off to the side, so I kept having to put them back. I was busy doing a full re-shuffle that involved removing the bags and wriggling them around when a lady wound down her window to ask if I needed any help. “No, it’s all fine, but thanks for asking!” And I felt the warm glow you get when strangers help each other out for no reason other than kindness.

After just five minutes on the busier road, I had to head back onto a cycle track. This one was in really bad condition and an ominous sign read ‘cycling at your own risk’. I had to watch the ground so closely to avoid bumps and dips that I couldn’t really look around, so I could just feel the darkness of the forest around me and imagine the creepy things that were lurking there. And it was still pissing it down. Please no flat tyres here, please!

Eventually I met up with a proper road again and took it through a town, where I started to feel a lot better. There were some people around and even a shop that was open – and it was a camping shop! I took the opportunity to get a new can of camping gas before heading down a 4km-long dead end road to find the campsite.

There was one more cycle path to take before I arrived, and it was a good one! Whilst the road went gently downhill, I was led into the woods again, up a gentle incline, along the flat for a bit, then I saw a warning sign saying ‘cyclists dismount’. I peered out over the abyss that stood before me – an absolutely insane descent! My breaks were worse for wear on account of the constant rain and there was no way I was getting down it on the bike without incident. At the bottom on the hill, there was a 90-degree turn and the path was covered in wet leaves! I also couldn’t get off my bike and walk next to it, because I wouldn’t be able to control the unwieldy weight effectively from the side. So I stood straddling my bike with the brakes pulled full on and skidded cautiously down the hill at a snail’s pace. When I was almost at the bottom, I got back on in an attempt to gather some speed before the impending up-hill, but I hadn’t seen the huge rut in the track after the corner! Donk, donk! My unhappy wheels clattered down it and my back wheel skidded out on the gravel as I started to crunch my way uphill again.  Man, touring is hard work!

Then, after the next corner, finally, there was the campsite! Somehow it’s 6pm by now, so I set up my tent, do my chores and head to the pub for a hard-earned pint. And perhaps a schnitzel.

– Anna

After yesterday’s experiences on the road, I was keen to take some proper cycle routes today. With Google maps ready and loaded in the morning, I set off along a recommended river route straight out of the campsite. It was really lovely – pink wildflowers blooming on the banks, the cycle path full of cheery weekend riders, the river carrying the occasional canoe past.

After about 20 km I had to leave the riverside path, so I stopped for an apple on the banks to soak it in for five more minutes before heading into the woods. It was a good route in the end, all sign-posted and paved. I went through farmland, woodland and through villages. It was so nice and easy, I got a bit bored again.

Then, as if on cue, my cycle path ran out at the side of a country road and I had my work cut out for the last hour on the way to the campsite.

I arrived in one peace, pitched up, showered, laundried, ate the rest of my lunch and headed to the cinema! On the way there, I found a huge bramble bush by the roadside, untouched, berries glistening in the evening sun. I gorged myself on the sweet fruits, enjoying the flavour and the opportunism, but lamenting coming into the last weeks of summer. Then I got to the cinema and sat back for a few hours with a bag of popcorn to watch a predicable chick flick and forget about it all. Ahh.

Back at camp, I cooked up my pasta pesto and chatted to the other tourers – a Dutch couple on their 10^th summer tour and a guy on his annual 4-day escape from work and family. My cough got so bad that I couldn’t talk any more without aggravating it and the Dutch lady kindly gave me some sweets to calm it down before bed.

It’s nice in this part of Germany. The riding is easy, the people are friendly, the scenery is pretty good. But it is a bit dull. I mean, it’s not exactly Canada. I’m ready to arrive at the next project and meet up with Dave again! Still, 3 more days to go… and only 100km to the next stopping place! So I’m going to take a detour and visit a nearby National Park on the way, lest I arrive early.

– Anna

I left Celle around midday and headed southwest towards Hanover. I only planned to do about 50 km as an easy first day out. And it was pretty easy – no real hills, no real headwind, all on cycle paths. I got a bit bored of the lack of adversity.

Around 4pm I arrived at a campsite outside Hanover that was on a lake. It was pretty and relatively quiet so I set up, showered and headed out for supplies. It was so hot all day that I didn’t really feel hungry and I was probably quite dehydrated. The thought of eating pasta and pesto for dinner was not appealing, so I indulged my cravings! For tomorrow’s lunch, I got 6 apples, a large pretzel and a pot of cream cheese. And for tonight’s dinner, I got chocolate milk and strawberry cake. Haha!

– Anna

When we left the Dutch dunes, we headed to Celle in northern Germany to spend a few days there. When I was aged 9-12, my family lived in Celle and I wanted to visit and show Dave where I spent some of my formative years! (Who knows whether some of my more Germanic traits are the cause of nature or nurture.)

We arrived to Celle station in the evening and rode to a family friend’s house. Nele, her husband Jost and their two boys were regular visitors to the Heslop house in Celle and Aberdeen (not sure who was following who around). I told Nele we were going to Celle and she invited us stay with her for a few days, although the boys were away. She welcomed us into their beautiful house with open arms, a delicious stir-fry dinner, beers and a catch-up.

We had a great few days exploring where I used to hang out with my family, eating delicious food, drinking some local beers, watching movies, chatting and sleeping in a big comfy bed!! The town is just as lovely as I remember it being. The old town is characterised by gorgeously wonky timber-framed buildings, and there are lots of green spaces. The flat where we used to live has a shared garden on the river and we used to spend our summers paddling a little boat upstream and drifting home.

On the last morning, we were just getting ready to go when Jost came home and we got to catch up with him for a bit too! What a delightful visit.

Dave left that morning on a train back to Amsterdam to meet some school friends for a few days. One of the boy’s parents has a boat there and they plan to spend some time hanging out on a big lake, drinking beer and gambling (probably?).

Whilst he’s off enjoying himself with the boys, I’m cycling 300 km to the next project! Second solo tour, here I come…

– Anna

We’ve spent the last few days walking in the dunes and hanging out on the beach. The day after we went swimming, we decided to take a surf lesson. Our guide was Johnny, an Aussie surfer dude who is waiting impatiently in the Netherlands for his girlfriend to finish her degree so they can move to Johannesburg and find some proper waves. He was hilariously and explicitly unimpressed with the surf available in the Netherlands while at the same time trying to persuade us we were going to have fun.

We practiced for a while standing in the shallows and jumping on the boards every time a likely-looking wave came through, trying to ride it lying down on the board. After that we practiced standing up on the boards on the beach, where it all seemed pretty straightforward. Different story in the water though as the board wobbles around underneath you as you try ungracefully to stagger to your feet, usually falling off within half a second. I managed to stand for about two seconds on my best attempt. When Anna came in at the end she said to Johnny “God, I’m knackered”. His response “I’m not surprised, you were getting smashed out there. You get an A for effort if nothing else”. So encouraging!

In the evening we caught up with one of our friends from our old jobs, who now works in the Hague. Bobby is a triathlete from the Orkney Islands who has competed all over the world while finding time to hold down a full-time job. A proper athlete! It was cool catching up and hearing the news from home, and filling him in on what we’ve been up to!

The following day Anna found she was almost crippled with a trapped nerve type pain in her leg. She couldn’t bend down to put her shoes on, or sit down for any long period. I was very sympathetic obviously, and thought the best thing for her would be to stand on the beach watching me have another go at surfing. For some reason she agreed to this, so I had another chance to ride the barrel! This time I was much more successful, and I can basically now surf like a champ. I’m thinking of taking a trip to Jo’burg myself.

The next couple of days we went for a few walks, Anna did some yoga and we did some planning for the next bit of our trip. We must have had too much time on our hands because at some point we decided we would try to not buy any plastic for a week. We found this made buying food quite difficult, which was a bit sad really. We found a nice Turkish supermarket that sells loose fruit and veg, and does couscous in cardboard boxes. Flushed with success we’ve decided to try to do the whole month plastic free. This means we’re going to need to find shampoo, soap, toothpaste etc. that comes in non-plastic packaging. I think it’s going to be tough, but I’m excited to see if we can do it!

We also met a mum and daughter who are on holiday from Germany. The mum is American but has lived in Germany for about 15 years. They were really interesting – we got talking about vegetarianism and veganism, the girl said she started being vegetarian when she saw a documentary about where meat comes from, and led the rest of the family with her. This later changed to veganism when she realised that everything is over-fished, battery hen farming is awful etc. She is only 15 now, I don’t know what age she was when she started showing such awareness, but it was definitely a lot younger than I was! It was cool to see that she was also able to persuade her family to follow her ideas as well. They also had some interesting stuff to say about the film The Shining, Stanley Kubrick and the moon landings. Apparently The Shining contains clues that Stanley Kubrick worked on faking film footage for the moon landings in case the actual landing wasn’t successful. I didn’t quite get it – but it’s a good excuse to watch The Shining again.

We also stumbled on a nudist beach the other day as we were wandering around. We were looking for a quiet bit of beach, and found one, slowy realising that everyone there was in the buff. So we thought, oh well, what the hell, and stripped off for a swim. We’ve been skinny dipping a few times in the UK, but always by ourselves (apart from once when we were surprised by a hiker in the Lake District – awkward). It was a different experience when there were loads of other people around letting it all hang out, but the water was lovely and it was quite a liberating thing to do. Apparently the world doesn’t immediately explode when you see people you don’t know with no clothes on. Maybe they can let the naked rambler out of prison now??

Swimming naked was awesome, but getting back to the sandy beach and having no towels was an issue. I thought I’d probably be able to dry myself with sand. You cannot dry yourself with sand. I had to walk back down the beach, naked and covered in sand, to wash myself off in the sea. After that we dressed, dug a firepit to keep the wind off and cooked soup on a stove. It was partially successful, our soup got hot, but the silica content became quite high, and there was quite a lot of crunch to it.

Tomorrow we’re going to meet Yvonne, the lady who has made this whole trip happen for us, by co-ordinating our visits to rewilding projects. She works on a project here in the Netherlands; European Bison living in a Dutch dune system. Bring on the bison!

– Dave

We came towards the coast, looking for somewhere to spend a week before we meet up with Yvonne to visit the bison reintroduction project.  At first, we headed to another nature campsite.  But when we got there, it didn’t feel as open and welcoming as the others.  After spending a night there, we felt a bit sad about the place and decided to move on the following morning.

So the next day we set off towards the dunes, battling a fierce headwind but only for a short ride of 15 km.  We arrived at the recommended campsite and set up camp – in a howling gale!  That evening, once we’d had lunch and done the shopping, we went for a pre-dinner stroll.  We set out into the dunes behind the campsite, past a lake where some young geese were gathered, between the dunes, beside a small area of planted woodland and out onto the beach.  As we crested the dune and got a view of the sea, the full force of the wind hit us and teated us to a facial sand-blasting.  Giggling and squinting, jackets flailing, we ran down the dune towards the sea, ditched our sandals and ran into the waves.

This place feels like the wildest place we’ve been to.  Not because it has the most exciting wildlife (don’t think so) or the fewest people (certainly not) or the least intensive management scheme (no way).  It feels wild because of the exposure.  Gone is the safety of the forest.  No shade, no shelter, no respite from the elements.  The dunes are a barren-looking landscape – sharp grasses and salt-tolerant shrubs holding the sand loosely together.

This place feels wild because of the salt, the sand, the sun, the rain and the wind.  Oh, the wind, the furious wind!  Reshaping the dunes and causing every plant and animal in its way to bend to its will.

One evening walk and we were starting to feel better already.

We had a slightly sleepless night in our wind-battered tent.  And today, we had to go back into town for more supplies and the laundrette.  Then, lunch and chores done, we headed back to the beach to check out surf board hire options.  We signed up for a surfing lesson tomorrow then hired wetsuits to go for a swim.  Before we went in, we were feeling a bit tired and lacklustre.  But a salt water wave to the face soon sorted that out!

The waves here aren’t particularly high, but they are strong.  And the longshore current is so strong that you can’t stand still in any one place at all!  So we walked up-shore, waded our way out to the good waves and body surfed in the waves as we got carried down-shore, where we’d get out and walk back up again.

Paddle paddle paddle, sploosh!  Wave after wave of cleaning salt water, bringing us back to life.

There’s a poem ‘On the Sea‘ by John Keats… he doesn’t go in the water, but it talks about the freedom that can be found in nature and I think it’s rather beautiful.

It keeps eternal whisperings around

Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell

Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell

Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.

Often ’tis in such gentle temper found,

That scarcely will the very smallest shell

Be moved for days from where it sometime fell,

When last the winds of heaven were unbound.

O ye! who have your eyeballs vexed and tired,

Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea;

O ye! whose ears are dinn’d with uproar rude,

Or fed too much with cloying melody, –

Sit ye near some old cavern’s mouth, and brood

Until ye start, as if the sea-nymphs quired!

– Anna

We need a detox!

We met up with the Renner clan again in Gent. We managed to find some good weather and went into town to enjoy a boat ride through the historic city centre, and then wandered around enjoying the atmosphere. We also had a trip to the Gruut brewery, the last one in the city centre. The brewers once had their own church in the centre of Gent, but apparently beer sales fell as it was being built and they lost faith so didn’t bother putting the spire on. True story (according to the boat guide). The Gruut brewery doesn’t use hops to flavour its beer. It uses the far older method of using a mix of local herbs and malt. Now that is definitely a true story, and the results are delicious! I’m sure they will be appearing in the bars of Shoreditch before long.

The next day it was raining so we went to the climbing wall. It was a sad day for me and Anna as we realised we basically can’t climb any more, but Casey discovered a new skill so all was not lost.

We said goodbye to the family that evening, I’m looking forward to seeing them again in September! Things were moving quickly though, and we went straight on to spending some time with Anna’s mates from Southampton, who come over to the festival every year. We stayed on a fantastic canal-barge ecohostel just outside the town centre. It’s called Ecohostel Andromeda, and I strongly recommend a visit! It was great to catch up with everyone and of course we had to go on another boat trip, drink more beer and listen to more music!

After several nights of drinking and going to bed too late, we said goodbye to everyone and got another train to Haarlem, where we were expecting to start our next project visit tomorrow. We found out today that things are a bit delayed so we have a week here to kick back and enjoy ourselves a bit more. Probably with less beer though!

– Dave