It did not take long to get out of Duisberg. Our bikes were locked in a metal storage shed behind the hotel. I went to retrieve the bikes while Sally watched our bags in the lobby and checked us out.
We rode through some suburban streets, crossed the Rhine, made a few jigs and jogs, crossed a canal and we were on the dike that holds the Rhine in its banks. It was a beautiful day of riding up on the dike, green fields on either side, skirting small towns, and occasionally ducking into one for lunch or a snack.
As we rode along the route, we encountered a gate across the road with a universal don't enter sign, the red circle with the red slash across it. I checked the map on the GPS. If we didn't enter this gate, it would require a two mile detour. If we did go through the gate we would be entering a construction zone because we could see heavy equipment up on the dike and had read they were reinforcing some sections. The map also showed we had only to ride about 150 yards across the construction site to the continuation of the road that was our route. Better to ask forgiveness than permission. We pushed off through the gate, making a beeline for the gate 150 yards away. The going was rough, but not impossibly so. I slipped my phone out of my pocket to take a picture. We were 25 yards from the exit gate when we heard the inevitable supervisor's truck racing up behind us. He caught us 10 yards from the gate and started to explain something to us in German. He was not too angry, but was upset we were in a place we were not supposed to be. Sally explained we only knew English, and with sign language and gestures suggested we just leave the construction site via the gate just 10 yards away instead of riding back. He shook his head in agreement, and we cycled back onto our route. We did have to dodge some super big trucks on the narrow, but paved one lane road. We rolled into the bushes while they passed. Soon the road widened and we back on track.
We found a bakery in Ossenberg with a nice lawn across the street. We bought fresh rolls, then laid in the lawn and had rolls and cheese for lunch. Then back on the dike and soon we were entering Xanten.
This is a quaint town with a long history. The Romans built a city here, which has been recently studied and replicated. We toured the grounds, with a reconstructed coliseum, Roman baths and partial temple. We only spent a little over an hour as we were anxious to get to our camping grounds.
On our way back into town from the Roman city we stopped by the windmill. I paid my 1€ fee to go up inside. As expected, I found the grinding wheel and old wooden gears that drive everything. Very cool. But, I also found a group of about eight people in the process of pointing the windmill blades into the wind and unfurling the cloth on the blades that catch the wind, much like the sails on a ship. Whereas a modern windmill points itself into the wind, these relics of the past have to be turned into the wind, with a winch and half a dozen people. I watched the process and saw the blades begin rotating. I popped back inside to see the center shaft spinning. I enjoyed that.
We headed out of town, about 3 miles to our campground. When we arrived about 5:00 pm, we found the office closed for the night. We rode around and found the tenting area, pitched our tent in the open field, and hid from the sun in the tent's shadow and rested. Because we missed the proprietors, we did not have a simple way to charge Sally's bike battery nor my cell phone batteries. I found power outlets in the washroom and, since I had to blog anyhow, I took both devices to the restroom and spent an hour writing while the batteries charged.
We had a salad for dinner, along with a roll and cheese. Some more quality time in the restroom charging bike and cell phone batteries got us through until dark.
While I was charging batteries Sally met a Dutch couple, ages 75 and 73 who were biking while the weather was good. The conversation turned to their experiences during and after the war, mostly after the war. That talked of food shortages and clothing shortages. They described difficult times until the early 1950's. Dutch men were required to go to work for the Germans during the war. For each man that worked for the Germans so many prisoners were released. They talked of current immigration to the Netherlands. Sally wished she could have talked to them all night, but about dark she was crawling into the tent.
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