After getting the rear pannier rack replaced in Aachen for the third time, I cross Belgium to catch a ferry from the Hook of Holland to Harwich, England, and cycle on to Norwich.
Sunday 2 June 2019. Maastricht · Antwerp |141 km|
[A hot day – up to 30°C – and there were hordes of cyclists out and about. It was totally flat on good to excellent bike paths across Belgian Flanders, and even against a fierce head wind I managed the 140 km to Antwerp without having to recharge the batteries. The extra range was possible because I jettisoned 12 kg of camping gear in Maastricht]
Most of the ride was on canal tow paths (“Jaagpad”), but don’t let that fool you – you can still get lost! This can (and did) occur where canals diverge and you find yourself on the wrong bank of the one you were following, or at any one of the many ‘Omleidungs’, or detours: I had to go on 8 such detours, ranging from 1km to 15km of side-tripping because they seem to be on a real bridge-replacement building binge along the Antwerpen-Maastricht canal.
My navigation was also complicated by the fact I had no maps or GPS, although earlier on I was able to rely on Google Maps from time to time until my iPhone battery went flat. The Belgium map on the bike’s GPShad refused to load because it needed to update. This is a recurring issue (not with Belgium, with the Bosch GPS unit) – obviously (maybe) some safety issue about having to be guided by the latest available maps only.
I found the centre of Antwerp alright just by following a tram going there, and checked into the fairly expensive 4-star Indigo Hotel (€122). It was good value though; the room was excellent. I had a bit of a wander around town and a couple of local beers at various bars. Dinner was a take-out doner kebab from the Turkish grill next to the hotel. I didn’t buy any diamonds, but there were plenty of shops where I could have.
Monday 3 June 2019. Antwerp · Hook of Holland |119 km|
[Much cooler today, down to 17°C after 3 days of up to around 30°C]
In keeping with my newfound mantra of ‘just relax and take it easy’, I ambled off out of Antwerp at 10.30. But it was a mostly boring ride today, partly through anonymously-immaculate semi-built-up areas and, once I got into Holland, mainly along repetitious dykes between the polders. The threatening rain held off, but once I started heading west again after crossing the Maas Rivers (the Oude Maas and the Nieuwe Maas), the wind immediately sprang up again from the – yep, you guessed it – the west, and I was riding into a strong headwind again for the last 40 km.
The excellent cycle paths and signage for the Belgian F14 ceased as soon as I crossed into Holland, where it was supposed to become the ‘LF3’, but I never did see any of those particular signs, so of course I got lost a few times.
There was one last river to cross before Hoek, and the ferry captain was a real pro: the way he could thread his way through the busy traffic passing in both directions was really something to behold.
Considering it is surrounded by such hardcore industrial activity, the town of Hoek van Holland, where the UK ferry terminal is located, is surprisingly charming, and the North Sea beaches are wild and unspoilt. I bought my ferry ticket (€114, including single-occupancy cabin, which is mandatory for a lone traveller – even though it is only an 8-hour passage) at 3.30pm, then chilled out and charged-up for 3 hours at an ocean-front café (called PLSTK, because they are entirely plastic-free – and it’s true, the straws were made of paper 🤮).
I was number 12 in line when boarding commenced at 7pm – no special privileges for cyclists here! – and by 8.30 pm I was fast asleep in cabin 11341 on deck 11 – the ship, Stena Hollandica, didn’t even sail until 10.30 – and I only woke up when we started to berth at Harwich at 5.30 am local time (6.30 am Dutch time). No portal = no view, to distract me.
Tuesday 4 June 2019. Harwich · Norwich |119 km|
[The weather didn’t hold – surreally-calm and overcast to begin with, but steadily becoming more grey and more liquid until moisture began to just ooze out of the air]
Worryingly, the immigration officer quizzed me minutely at the UK border gate, as indeed had his Dutch counterpart in Holland, but my answers were obviously satisfactory because they both eventually did stamp me out and in, respectively, with a friendly smile. Hmm. Maybe I should get a haircut.
According to my research, I had to re-cross the River Stour by ‘foot-ferry’ to head north to Norwich. Well, the foot ferry didn’t even start operation until 10 am (it was still only 7am), and moreover it looked impossible or at least exceedingly difficult for me to get onto it with my loaded bike…
…so I abandoned that idea, and made the 17 km detour to Manningtree to cross the Stour up-river. This worked out OK, but I have to say the scenery was a tad dour, with row upon row of grimy terraces for the first couple of hours, and the cycling infrastructure – compared to the rest of Europe – is non-existent.
This route took me through Ipswich, which I would have missed otherwise, and I thought it a pretty cool town too – city, really.
Hmm: the number of loud- and very-fast-talking twitchy people with neck tattoos, as well as the diabetically-constrained general population did slightly alarm me, but I graciously put it down to purely non-random sampling on my part – maybe those types just happen to congregate next to the ‘fat man’ statue below at 11 am on Tuesdays? Anyone?
Still, I had a coffee (yuppy good) and a sausage sandwich (worst I’ve ever had, and £2.50 to boot), and requested and received £200 from the Barclay’s ATM (hey, they call them ATMs in England too), and generally indulged my newfound relaxation mantra, before ambling on.
I stopped at Debenham, halfway to Norwich, (I couldn’t ascertain whether there’s any connection to Debenhams Store, but I doubt it): a poor choice, as it turned out, as my very own first English country pub, which I’d been fantasizing about most of my life, didn’t even have cheddar in their ploughman’s lunch. It had: one scotch egg, one small pickled onion, 2 thin slices of baguette, a tiny little pot of, I have to say, absolutely delicious chutney, and another small pot of knobs of butter (I thought it was the cheese!), oh, and a bed of wilted lettuce. For 9-pounds-fucking-fifty!
It rained all the rest of the way to Norwich (50 km). But, you know what, I didn’t care. I had my wet-weather gear on after all (still a novelty for me). But I ‘get’ it, the English country-side. William Blake said it and maybe I missed his point, but his “green and pleasant land” has me in it’s thrall. The twisting country lanes, the greenery, the little villages – all grist to my mill – and I found myself in love with cycling around England.
It was raining steadily by the time I arrived in Norwich, but it still looked an attractive city to me. I was due to catch up with two friends and colleagues from my Brazil days, Stan and Robin, and so took an expensive room in a poncey hotel in the CBD, the Maiden‘s Head (!!!) which made meeting up easier, and we had a night on the tiles together telling tall stories about third-world countries and getting absolutely pissed.
-ends-
#61 Maastricht to Norwich. 379 km
Hi Paul, your hotel was just next to the Antwerp Chinatown (a one street thing haha).
But with some great restaurants there !
Nice to see they are further replacing the old bridges along the Albert Canal. The old ones were almost collapsing. Detours for cyclists are unfortunately not always very well indicated, but in the end one gets through.
Looking forward to read about the rest of your trip.
Hello Koen, thanks for the comments.
Antwerp is a pretty cool town to hang out in, and I liked it around that Chinatown area that morphs into an African area. You’re from Antwerpen, right?
The bridge diversions were mostly signposted pretty well actually, but on two of the longer ones I had to rely on asking passing cyclists and most of them had no idea or gave me incorrect information (My problem was I didn’t know whether I should even be on that canal all the way in to Antwerp, or on which side, but it was easy in the end). There are 39 bridges along that canal, and only about 6 left to replace with their new standard design, but it’s a bit inconvenient with them working on replacing 8 all at once!
Waiting for your next installment too. I see Heide posted again – about Mauretania – now that’s tough going. Cheers. Paul
Hi Paul,
Good to see that you are still on the road and travelling lighter. I use google maps on my iPad for navigation. I am three days into this year’s Ducati trip which will be six weeks long and involves riding to Greece and back. I like to alternate between camping and pensions. Currently I am in Croatia.
Where are you heading to?
Cheers
Andrew
Hello Andrew, How was the diving in Malta?
I was heading to Scotland up the east coast, but will now go inland to Peterborough from Boston to get on to the Eurovelo 12 cycle route, I think.
Take care, and good riding. P
Hi Paul,
Yes, I lived north of Antwerp. You rode through ‘Essen’ (Trapke Op), that’s where I grew up.
The diversion are crap. Always have been.
You should have stayed mostly on the northern side of the canal, but you made it.
I’m In Alice Springs now (Birdsville Track was stll closed when I arrived in Marree).
Enjoy your time in Scotland. I cycled twice in the west and on the Hebride Islands. Very nice !