Tuesday, September 8 - Route Complete - 8000 miles?, Day 54 - CDG to Toledo

Not much to say about today.  Took the bus to the airport, went through security, boarded, flew, landed in Toronto, changed planes, landed in Vancouver, Andy picked us up in the van, and we drove home to Toledo, arriving at midnight PDT.  This means we were up for 27 straight hours, with maybe an hour nap on the plane.

Sum up for the trip:  

Sally and I talked about this experience, and compared it to our adventure on the PCT.  Perhaps this is not a fair comparison.  We both agree that the PCT was the most influential experience of our lives.  Not a day passes that we don’t think of something that happened on the trip, have a flash back to a place or time or person.  To put our bike trip up against the PCT is like comparing a cat to a mountain lion. The cat is nice, but a mountain lion will definitely change your life.  Perhaps one of the things missing on this trip was the community of people. On the PCT we met people the first day that we stayed in touch with and hiked with the entire time we were on the trail. We shared the same discomforts, pains, fears, triumphs and joys. The environment and the physical challenge of the PCT was more taxing, forcing us further together. 

On this bike tour, we met wonderful people. We stayed with them, got to know them and had a wonderful time. But then, we moved on and they continued with their lives apart from us. They enriched our lives and our trip. We hope to meet with them again, but we did not get that "Band of Brothers" bonding that occurs through shared hardship. 

Another interesting aspect of this trip I am wrestling with is remembering the route. When I finished the PCT, I could close my eyes and play the entire length of the trail we walked in my head, turn for turn and switchback for switchback. In fact, I can still do that now, a year and a half later. If I try to do that same thing with this bike trip, I cannot. I get the city sequence mixed up. Even looking at the pictures geotagged directly to the map I have a hard time recalling the time, place, sequence and circumstances of that portion of the trip. Is it that on the bike the miles went by too fast for my brain to record?  Or is it the fact that I navigated by GPS, spending too much time negotiating the route on the screen instead of my surroundings?  Or perhaps, the terrain was so flat and similar for much of the lower Rhine that I am unable to attach landmarks in sequence because there weren't any. The language barrier could have played a role. So many of the place names were hard to read and pronounce, making them harder to commit to memory. All of these probably play a role in my inability to replay the trip sequentially in my head.  

Yet, I hope I do not give the impression that somehow this trip was in anyway "lacking". It was a wonderful adventure!  We had to problem solve, route find and negotiate everyday. We laughed heartily and felt accomplishment and joy daily. We learned so much; about people, history, geography, religion, governments, and Europe as a whole. Would we do it again?  Already making plans for the next one.

Here is a table showing distances and location per day, on the days we rode:

Monday, September 7 - Route Complete - 0 miles, Day 53 - Versailles to CDG

If I had had to move two bikes to the airport today, it would have been nearly impossible.  Bulk, weight and crowded subways were all obstacles to success. I was thankful I did not have to move Sally's 50 pound ebike, along with my bike, 4 panniers and a pack.

We were up about 6:30 am this morning, our last day at our wonderful B&B in Versailles.  We breakfasted, packed and were out the door about 8:30 am.  My bike was in a bike box, its rear wheel was extending out the bottom of the box so I could wheel it to the train station, but nothing else was in the box yet.  When we got to the ground floor, we loaded up the box with as much gear as possible, 2 panniers, sleeping pads, etc., then began our walk to the train station.

The box with a single wheel required balancing.  This was more of a pain than I thought it would be.  Still, it was easier than outright carrying the whole load.  We had left the B&B a little earlier than we had planned.  We wanted to be sure we were after rush hour.  We stopped on the street across from the train station and hung out for 15 minutes.  During this time we noticed the foot traffic in and out of the train station was almost nonexistent, proof enough that it was a good time for us to board with the bike.

The ride to the Notre Dame station was uneventful. I had to pack the bike down a long escalator as we transferred from RER C to RER B.  As we exited the escalator, we were confronted by a crowd of people on the platform.  We found out the trains had not been running earlier in the morning.  The rush hour crowd we were hoping to avoid was now all standing on the platform, and a train pulled up.  I had decided we would let this train go, let the crowd move on, and catch the next train.  People loaded onto the train, and Sally and I walked up the platform to get in position for the next train. As we did, I noticed one of the open car doors showed enough room for the two of us and the bike box.  We stepped on, but my bulky pack (my back pack with 2 panniers dangling from it) blocked Sally from getting on board. She alerted me to her predicament, while standing just outside the train.  I shifted my position just a bit, and she squirted on, just as the doors closed, pinching her backpack in the door, preventing it from closing.  A little more wiggling, and she cleared the doors.

Our compartment was not packed tight like sardines, yet.  At the next stop, instead of some getting off, the platform was loaded with people trying to get on. They too, had been waiting for trains that did not show. Now, we started packing them in. Everyone exhaled to reduce their size, squeezed a little closer, and after a few attempts, the doors closed and off we went again.  

We had a long ride, with a lot of stops, but luckily, this train skipped most of those stops. I probably had more room than anyone else on the train, my bike box had effectively kept the masses at bay.

Our stop was the last of the line.  I was hoping most would get off before I did, thereby I would not have to extract the box from the packed sardines.  One stop before the airport, nearly the whole train emptied.  We were able to easily exit at our stop.  

We caught a bus to hour hotel, the silver line.  Our driver was about 25 years old, and thought he was piloting a Ferrari or a F16.  Those of us in the back held on tight as he did everything but slide the bus around corners.  Thankfully, the we were soon at our hotel.

We checked in, went to our room, repacked the the bike box for the airplane, went for a walk and had dinner.  We made plans to get on the 8:05 am bus for the airport in the morning.

Thursday-Sunday , September 3-6 - Route Complete - 0 miles, Day 49-52 - Paris - Parisian Life

Four days in Paris!  The Louvre. The Pompidou. The Picasso Musseé. Monet's Lillies at the Orangeries. River Cruises. . . .  wait a minute. We already did those in the beginning of July with Jeff, Jackie, Andy and Tabitha. 

We have a special September gift. We were not sure how long our Rhine Ride would take. To be certain to have enough time, we booked our flight home September 8. We finished the ride August 28th. This is 11 extra days, which we used to visit Adri and Stijnie in Rotterdam, see Amsterdam and now visit Paris. During these four days in Paris, we get to just feel the pulse of the city without getting caught up in the rushing blood stream. We can stroll a lane, people watch and enjoy a quiet, unhurried time in the city of lights. This doesn't mean we don't have a wish list of things to see, it just means that list is short and our time is long. We hope to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, watch Foulcault's Pendulum swing in the Pantheon, stroll the Montmartre area and visit the D'Orsa Museum. A good ratio of things to do over time to do them. We are in an Air B&B in Versailles, about half a mile from the train station. The train ride to Paris is about 25 minutes. Although we will miss nights in Paris, we won't miss the noise and bustle. 

Thursday we were on the train with the commuters at 8:15 am. This got us in line for the Eiffel Tower a little before 9:00 am. The ticket booth opened at 9:30 am, and we were on top by 10:00 am. 

We were startled at how quiet the streets were. Kids are back in school and the crush of tourists is gone. Sure, there are still tourist busses, but the crowds are down to a tenth of what they were when we were here in July. 

The Eiffel Tower was . . . Well, the Eiffel Tower! Staggeringly amazing!  Although the view from the top is tremendous, I find the Tower more awe inspiring when viewed from the Trocadero, where we rode our Paris City bikes to on Sunday (more on that later). We spent a couple hours walking the various levels of the tower, enjoying the morning September sun, the cool air temperature and the magnificent views.

Once on the ground we walked a few streets, bought food for lunch, and rode the Metro over to the Latin District on the left bank and found our way to the Pantheon, adjacent to The University of Paris and final resting place of France's greatest minds. Although I respect the likes of Madam Curie, Voltaire, Lagrange, Victor Hugo, Braille and others, I came to see Foucault's Pendulum swinging on its 67 meter  long cable, suspended from the Pantheon's dome. With this simple device, in 1851, he proved the earth was indeed spinning on its axis while the sky stood still, not the other way around. 

I entered the Pantheon, paid our €7.50 each entrance fee and was about to leave the ticket booth when a poster caught my eye. Foucault's Pendulum was down for repairs!  It would not be put up again for ten days! It had been down for four years. I hesitated, then asked for my money back and returned the tickets. I really wanted to see his original bob swinging back and forth, knocking over pins as the earth rotated. But, it was not to be on this day. It just gave me a good excuse to come again!

We enjoyed a lunch on the Pantheon steps while people watching, then strolled through the University of Paris. We walked back through the Latin district, across the river to the Notre Dame, then found a nice park bench to view the cathedral and the people visiting it. We were amazed at how plain Notre Dame was in comparison to the Cologne and Strasbourg cathedrals. 

Friday was dedicated to d'Orsay museum and the Montmartre area.  We spent 2+ hours in the d'Orsay, then rode the subway to Montmartre area where we viewed the working artists and strolled the narrow streets. Although still busy with tourists, it was not jam packed like it was in July. We wandered over to the steps below the Basilique for the glorious view of Paris below. While lounging on the stairs we noticed a young man on a stone pedestal doing stretching exercises. He had a soccer ball near at hand. Could this be

the soccer ball street performer I had seen on Facebook a few weeks earlier?  He started his performance and I instantly recognized it. This kid is amazing!  Rather than describe it, go to this YouTube link (http://youtu.be/RvFWGxgGrEg) and watch someone else's video from a few weeks earlier. I went down afterwards, threw two euro in his hat and shook his hand, telling him what a great job he did. 

Sally wanted to visit a second hand store located out in the northeast portion of the city. We took the Metro out, descended the platform and began to walk the two blocks to the store. Within 200', our spidey senses were registering danger. The streets were awash with 30 something males, just hanging around, doing nothing. The graffiti was everywhere. It was pretty dirty and run down as well. We looked at each other simultaneously, asked each other if we felt comfortable and got the same negative answer. We turned around, walked back up the platform and caught the next train back to where we started. Whatever was in that second hand store would have to go on without us. 

Now we were off to the Apple Store, Paris. Why?  Just 'cause. We followed my GPS, using metro trains to get us there. When we got to the address, there was no store. Sally went into a local business, very fancy, like an upscale bank or something. Somehow, we missed the discreet Apple Logo above the door. The GPS had directed us to Apple headquarters for France. We got directions from them to the Apple Store. One metro ride and we were soon at the Apple Store. 

A quick walk through, and we were headed for Versailles and our B&B. We stopped by the grocery store for salad fixings, lettuce, tomatoes, Tabouli and shredded carrots. Delicious.   

Saturday we wanted to visit a flea market, to look for some small gifts. We slept in a bit, then trained and trollied into a part of Paris we had not been. Definitely off the tourist path. The flea market was on a neighborhood street, running many blocks long, perhaps a half a mile long. We spent a few hours trolling for items, but came up dry. I was hoping to find a set of wheels to put under one end of my bike box so I could wheel it to and from train stations and airports, but this was a bric-a-brac flea market and practical items were in short supply. 

We returned to Versailles about 3:30 pm and borrowed bikes from Stephan and Stephanie, our generous B&B hosts. We cycled onto the Versailles grounds, around the cross shaped canal below the Chateau and out to Marie Antoinette's farm. It started to rain. We scurried back to the B&B, arriving back just as the rain was quitting. Dinner of fried potatoes with sausage. We hung around and read and blogged until 9:20 pm, then walked over to the palace to check it out at night. We were surprised to find it is not lit at night. The weekly Saturday night fireworks display was about to start, but we didn't want to pay the €24 each admission fee. We headed back to the B&B for bed. 

Sunday was an active day in Paris. We decided to try the Paris Velib city wide bike rental system. There are 18,000 city bikes distributed around the city in computerized lock down stations. We paid €1.70 each to rent bikes for the day. We signed up on line and got an access code number and created a pin for each of us. We took the train into Paris, then walked to one of the 1870 stations. We inspected the bikes, finding them all in good repair. At the kiosk, we punched in our code and pin, then unlocked a bike of our choosing. If you ride the bike for under 30 minutes, it is free. The next half hour costs €1, the next half hour €2, the next €3 and so on. The goal is for people to use the bike for a limited time, then lock it up. We rode up to the Arch de Triumph, found a bike station and locked our bikes. We wandered around the monument, but did not endure the line and fee to go up into it. We had visited it in 2009. 

We returned to the bike station, checked out another bike and rode to the Notre Dame. This time the first station we went to was full. By the time we rode another block to the next station we had exceeded our 30 minute limit. We checked our account once we had secured the bikes in the station. Yep. €1. We walked around the neighborhood, then checked out another bike and rode into the Latin district, returned the bikes to a station (they are literally everywhere, and convenient) and toured the neighborhood, enjoying a 4 piece street band playing Dixieland type jazz (banjo, bass fiddle, clarinet and trombone). We were looking for a restaurant that serves mussels and fries, but we're coming up dry. We had seen them at Montmartre on Friday. We decided to ride to that part of town. We released two bikes near Notre Dame and headed west. Since it was Sunday, they had the major east-west road in town closed to motor traffic. Once off it, we headed north. We had to stop and exchange bikes once to avoid the €1 fee, but we finally made it to the bottom of the funicular that takes you to the top of the hill. We had a scrumptious mussel and fries lunch outside by the artists doing portraits, then settled onto the same steps below the Basilica as Friday. The weather was perfect!  Sunny with a few picturesque clouds, no breeze, cool fall temperatures . . . Perfect. We watched the street performers for a while, then headed down the hill, looking for a couple bikes to peddle. I had downloaded the app that shows where every station is, how many open slots there are to accept bikes and how many bikes are available to take. Unfortunately, no one likes to ride the bikes up the hill, but everyone loves to ride them back down into town. My app showed one bike at this station, one at that station, but not 2 together. I found a station with 4 bikes, but as we walked there, the app showed those bikes disappearing as someone got there before we did. This happened three times before we got far enough from the hill to find stations with bikes. 

We rode toward the Trocadero, the monument across the river from the Eiffel Tower. We had to stop and swap bikes once to avoid the €1 fee.  

Sally really had to pee, but as it was after 5:00 pm on a Sunday, all the restrooms were locked and closed, even though there was still thousands and thousands of people out enjoying a perfect fall day, drinking beer, wine and sodas. We cycled under the Eiffel Tower to a bathroom she had used a few days before, but there was a security guard barring the door and turning everyone away. We cycled back across the river. She walked down into the aquarium, but the attendant in the ticket booth would not let her into the toilets unless she spent €24 for an admission ticket. An hour and a half had passed and things were getting deadly and desperate. Even though the park was full of families and people, Sally found a hedge to hide behind and relieved herself in the bushes. No wonder so many parts of Paris stink so bad of urine!  Thousands of tourists and toilets locked. Although I cuss the fact that public toilets cost €0.50 to €0.80 to use, it does keep the homeless from camping out in them, and are therefore cleaner. 

We parked our bikes up on top of the Trocadero monument, bought food in a grocery store for our stay out at the airport tomorrow, then found a nice seat on the stairs looking out at the Eiffel Tower and enjoyed the view. 

Eventually, we walked down and across the river, heard a 5 piece rock band playing down on the quay and wandered down to listen to them. They sang traditional rock music, Beatles, Rolling Stones, Cat Stevens, Steppenwolf, etc. we listened to them for 45 minutes, then strolled to the Champs de Mars metro station and rode back to Versailles. 

And so ended our four day run in Paris!  Superb!

Tomorrow we move the bike and our gear out to the Ibis by the airport in preparation for our Tuesday morning flight home. 

Wednesday, September 2 - Route Complete - 0 miles, Day 48 - High Speed Train To Paris - Moving Day

The alarm was set for 6:00 am, but I was awake before that. We got up, packed our panniers and made ready to ride to the train. At about 6:45 am the skies opened up with torrential rains. We slipped into our rain gear. 

We had told Adri and Skijnie we were planning to leave at 7:00 am. This would allow us to get to the train station by 7:30 am and give me an hour to get the bike disassembled and boxed, leaving 20 minutes to lug it and all our gear up to the station, find the correct platform and load onto our 8:58 train. We were ready to go at 7:00 am, but did not hear either of our hosts moving about, so we wrote a note of thanks, left it on the table in the kitchen, and pushed our bikes up from the back door onto the street. I stopped to take a picture of their house, and saw Adri upstairs getting dressed. He poked his head out the window and said he was coming down. 

We had a brief goodbye at the front door, thanking them again for their wonderful kindness and friendship.  Then, we were on our bikes and headed through the rain for the train station. We got there about 7:25 am and rode the sloping escalator down to the bike shop. 

A new man was manning the shop, William. He said Martin had left him a note about the cardboard to make a box from and he drug out a couple sheets for us to use. He was talkative and helpful. He offered me the repair shop space to work in and any of the tools in the adjacent tool chests I might need. Of course, I had everything I needed as I had done this a few times before, but I appreciated his generosity. 

It took nearly the entire hour to get the bike apart and the box taped around it. The pedals were particularly hard to free from the cranks, as I had tightened them firmly when I assembled them in Lucerne. Half the threads had been stripped out of them because I did not tighten them in Paris and they had worked loose without my notice. When I rode in the dark to the Bastille Day fireworks at the Eiffel Tower, I felt something was not right with the pedals, but without my tools and in the dark, I could not see the problem. Once the fireworks were over and I got to a streetlight, I could see the peddles were half unscrewed from the crank arms and they were crooked with half of the threads badly stripped. I had gingerly rode back to our B&B and my tools before I could tighten them and stop the damage. When I reassembled the bike in Switzerland, I had snugged the peddles firmly into the remaining threads on the crank, and they held all the way to Rotterdam, but now they were a bugger to get free, but they did loosen. 

I cut a hole in the cardboard box I had constructed where the horizontal bar on my bike was. This gave me a handle to carry my bike with. I put everything I could in my backpack, lashed two of the panniers to the outside of it, buttoned the other two panniers together to form one unit and with pack on back, two panniers in one hand and my bike in my other hand, headed for the train platforms. We stopped to grab a muffin and soda to go for breakfast, then planted ourselves on the platform with 20 minutes to spare and waited for our train. As is often the case, our platform number was changed at the last minute, but thankfully it was just to the other side and did not require me to load up and lug everything up and down escalators. 

Getting on board was like a Marx Brothers movie. My bike would not fit in the baggage storage area. The conductor instructed me to place it in the dining car behind a counter. I deposited all the panniers in the luggage rack, but still had my backpack on, with my helmet dangling from the back. The train was already in motion, swaying back and forth as we left the station and gained speed. As I muscled the bike box through the narrow aisle of the seating area of the dining car, I too rocked back and forth, as did my helmet on it long chin strap. Sally was behind the glass entrance door of the dining car, watching in horror at it slapped each and every passenger in the face as they tried to sip their hot coffee. I was unaware of the unfolding catastrophe. I placed the bike box where instructed and turned around to see Sally running to me in the swaying train with a horrified expression and hear her explanation of what had just occurred. I secured my wayward helmet before returning back through the aisle of disgruntled and staring passengers. It did not end there. 

Our seats were at the far end of the next car. The swaying car made it hard to negotiate the aisle, even without the bike box. When I got to my seat, I lifted my pack to place it in the overhead cargo space. As I shoved it into place, one of the 20 oz coke bottles I had filled with water this morning slipped out of the outside pocket and was targeting the head of the passenger below. Sally saw the unfolding catastrophe and quickly stuck her arm out to deflect the dropping bottle. She was successful, the bottle striking her arm and then his tray table with a resounding thud, but still startling everyone nearby, including me. We apologized profusely and grabbed the errant bottle. I was very glad to sit down and not move again, having disrupted two cars full of people in the first five minutes of our two and a half hour ride. 

We contended ourselves with reading and blogging on the ride to Paris. Every once in a while I would use the GPS on my iPhone to check our speed as we rocketed along. Check the screen shot below. 

I waited until all my fellow passengers disembarked in Paris before I rose from my seat. We retrieved my bike and panniers, assembled my load, and began the long walk to our train connection to Versailles. It took two train transfers, but soon we were standing at the train station in Versailles. 

Our B&B was one block from the palace entrance, about a half a mile away from the train station. Loaded with our gear, we walked the distance. When we arrived we double checked the address. We were standing outside stately looking buildings, far to nice to house an Air B&B site. I texted the host, Stephanie. She quickly replied she would be right down. To my amazement, she and her husband did appear. This was the right place!  After securing my bike in locked storage, they lead us up three floors to a sumptuous three bedroom apartment with oak parquet floors, huge south facing windows with sunlight streaming in and attractive furnishings. Stephan explained in his limited English that we shared the house with them for our stay, that we were not to be bashful about using the kitchen, living room, etc. and showed us our large bedroom and private bath. What a palace next to the palace!!

They offered us something to drink, and we sat on the couch and talked for half an hour and got to know each other a bit. We then retired to our room for a nap. We rose about 6:00 pm, wandered into Versailles' restaurant district for dinner, settled for some tortellini at a street side cafe, stopped by the grocery store for some supplies and headed back to our palace for the evening.  

GPS Screen Shot while on train

Tuesday, September 1 - Route Complete - 0 miles, Day 47 - Back to Rotterdam - Tourist Morning, Evening with Friends

We woke this morning to the sound of the church bells in Amsterdam in our top floor, sloping flat. We had not seen much of Amsterdam yet, and the lack of bikes and time was going to keep it that way. Last night, we had decided we would take a canal cruise this morning, to get an overview of this city before we caught the train back to Rotterdam. After showers, we breakfasted on yogurt purchased in the grocery store below our room the night before, then headed for the boat tour landing on the canal in front of the Reichs Museum. It was about a mile and a half walk. We enjoyed seeing the city as we walked. No car traffic to speak of, but lots of people cycling to work. The streets are narrow and squeezed between canals and buildings. There simply is not room for cars in this city built long before their invention. 

Bike theft is a serious problem both in Rotterdam and Amsterdam. We have been warned about it many times by the natives. We have asked the question, "What do they do with all the stolen bikes if everyone owns one?" many times. The answers vary, but boil down to two concepts. They are sold to new people in town, such as students, or they are stolen just for fun, ridden a little way, and thrown into a canal. As we walked to the boat dock, we passed a floating barge with a small backhoe like device floating next to it fitted with a claw-like grabber. The operator was dredging the bottom of the canal, pulling up bicycles off the bottom. The barge had a pile of rusty, mud covered bikes in its hold and the claw was adding a few more as we walked by. 

We reached the dock almost an hour early. I ran to a nearby grocery store for rolls and cheese for lunch. I came back to find Sally engaged in conversation with an older American couple from Florida, also going on the cruise. 

The cruise made a circle through the inner city, passing along the canals and prominent landmarks of the town until it hit the main harbor of the city, whereby it entered the canals again and circled back to where we started. Not as intimate a tour as riding on a bike, but a good overview of the city. 

We walked the two miles to the railroad station, passing down the main shopping district. It has been the main shopping district for many hundreds of years, although it certainly is different now than a hundred years ago, and likely different than 50 years ago. It has morphed into a mile long exhibition of chain stores residing in old buildings. In our walk we passed 3 McDonalds, 7 H &M stores, 2 Cheese and More outlets and countless other international or national chains. For us, it was a disappointment. If this trend continues, European cities will be just like American cities, devoid of personality, just rows and rows of standardized merchandise outlets. The only attributes the European cities will have over American cities is the quaint old buildings hovering above the modern street level store fronts. 

We passed through the edge of the Red Light district, seeing the pot and sex shops, before we emerged at the Central Train Station. We found our platform and walked onto our train just seconds before the doors closed. A restful ride and we were in Rotterdam an hour later, about 2:00 pm. We rented a bike for Sally at the bike shop (they gave it to her for free) and arranged to have cardboard to wrap my bike up with for the train ride to Paris in the morning. 

We cycled back to Adri and Stijnie's home. They were both out. We took a nap in our basement bedroom until Stijnie arrived home, then went upstairs and had a delightful visit with her.  Adri arrived home about 6:00 pm. We had dinner, then went for a 5 Km walk around the canal in front of their home. Along the way, we saw two windmills and a large lake. I have to readjust my thinking. When I see a large lake, such as this multiple

hundred acre one we walked past, I think "the bigger the lake, the deeper the lake". But here, they are all only 6 to 8 feet deep, as they are just low areas that are not pumped dry. Their surface may be below sea level, as this one was, with the water level artificially maintained, but they are not deep. The lakes have marinas, harbors and lakefront homes as any lake does, they just aren't deep. 

Darkness fell as we continued our walk. Later, when Sally and I were talking, we recounted our trip and the fact that not once in 6 weeks have we seen a "sketchy neighborhood", one where we felt uncomfortable or even remotely threatened, day or night. It is quite a contrast to be in Europe for an extended time period and observe the U.S. from afar. During our absence there have been multiple mass shootings, A TV news crew murdered while on the air, a gang shootout in Chicago, multiple policemen killed and multiple people killed by the police. I am far more wary of living in the U.S. than I am of living here in Europe. Other than about half a dozen homeless in Paris, we have not seen a homeless person in our travels. No tents under bridges. No shopping cart pushers. No one begging at intersections. The contrast is remarkable. I am looking forward to returning home to compare these recent observations with a new look at our own country. 

When we returned home, we sat for a while to talk and drink tea. Adri brought out his cycling maps for Sally and I to see so we could compare them to our method of navigation. 

We had to rise early to catch our train to Paris, so we turned in about 10:30 pm. We were both saddened to leave our new friends in the morning, but so thankful for the opportunity to spend time and get to know them. We encouraged them to come to the U.S. and visit us, but they didn't seem likely to do so. When we return to Europe sometime in the future, they will be at the top of our must see list. Such wonderful people. 

Monday, August 31 - Route Complete - 0 miles, Day 46 - Off to Amsterdam by Train - Anne Frank

On Saturday, we rode to the Rotterdam Central Train Station and  booked train tickets to Paris,  scheduled for next Wednesday. This gave us a few extra days to visit Amsterdam. Adri had to work today and Stijnie is job hunting. It will work well for us to be gone for a night. Last night, after we retired to our bedroom in the basement, we booked a room with a shared bathroom in the "Anne Frank B & B", advertised as a one minute walk from the famous hiding place. With accommodations arranged, we were ready to spend a night in Amsterdam. 

Adri left as we finished our breakfast this morning, riding his bike to work, dressed in his suit. we bid Stijnie goodby and headed to the train station on our bikes. Our first piece of business was to sell Sally's bike to the bike shop below the new train station. We weren't sure if the transaction would take place this morning, because Dave, the man we met about the sale last Thursday, mentioned he would have to get cash from the bank to complete the sale. 

We rode to the shop and found Dave had taken the day off, but another man, Martin, was ready to help us. He had the cash in the safe. It took him a few minutes to get it. We handed over the bike, battery, keys and charger. We mentioned we needed to rent a bike for just a day when we returned from Amsterdam tomorrow. He said that would be great, and there would be no charge. We also mentioned we needed a box to wrap my bike in for the high speed train ride to Paris. Again, he said he would have it for us when we returned. He was gracious, kind and very thoughtful. We were very happy to hand our ebike to him. We walked out of the shop, pushing my bike to the adjacent bike storage racks to lock it up for the night while we were gone to Amsterdam. When we were about 100' from the shop, we heard Martin calling to us. We turned around to see him running after us. He said he did not feel good about us leaving my bike overnight in the storage area. Too many thefts. He said he would put it in the paid, protected storage for the night for free. Again, a super friendly, caring and thoughtful person. 

Once rid of our bikes we headed to the ticket area and purchased our tickets to Amsterdam and back. Off to the platforms and soon we were rolling through the Dutch countryside, headed to Amsterdam. It was the intercity milk run. We made about 8 stops at various cities enroute. Still, we arrived in Amsterdam a little over an hour later. 

We walked from the station to the Anne Frank house and scoped out the line, about an hour long. The attendant at the door said the best time to come for a short line was around 5:00 pm. We set our sites to the Van Gogh museum instead. We decided to check into our B & B, if they would let us in, since it was just on the other side of the church, truly one minute away. 

At the street level, it was solid small restaurants and a grocery store, with no sign of the "B & B". I checked the address, number 25. We found a glass and aluminum door squezed between a Kabob shop and a grill. It was locked. We looked again at our email confirmation and saw that we were to call and let them know of our arrival time. I called, and the proprietor, a lady, said the cleaner was upstairs working on the room. She would call him and have him come down and let us in. He did, and we followed him up impossibly steep stairs; stairs that would never pass any code in the U.S.  The last flight was more like a ladder than stairs, and we climbed it with our hands and feet. The room was on the top floor of a four story building. It was clean with lots of personality. The floor sloped radically, about an 8" difference between one side of the room and the other. One end of the bed was on blocks to get it level. The window frames, although nicely painted white, were clearly rotten. Later, when I opened the window, I could see the only thing holding the frame together was the glass. Still, it was clean, spacious and came with a terrace, as advertised. The terrace was a 6' by 8' tarred roof sandwiched between the bathroom and the bedroom. No view of anything but roofs, but a nice touch if we needed to get outside. 

We showered and headed for Van Gogh. As we tried to decipher the trolley system at one of the stops, a trolley pulled up. Sally stuck her head in and asked the attendant how to get to the Van Gogh museum. She said to take her trolley to the next stop, then get on number 17. We purchased one hour tickets and followed instructions. We were soon at the Reichs Museum. We walked under it and found the Van Gogh museum behind. 

It took an hour of standing in line to get in, but once inside, we really enjoyed the museum. It is spacious, with Van Gogh's works, over 200 paintings, spread over four floors, taking the visitor through the progression of his work from early days in Holland, to Paris up until his death in 1890. He only painted for ten years, but he was prolific. 

After the museum we rode back to the Kabob place below our room for dinner, then walked over to get in line at the Anne Frank house. It was now raining cats and dogs. We donned our rain gear and enjoyed talking with a lively young Indonesian couple, now living in London, who were in line behind us. The 45 minutes passed quickly, in spite of the rain, and we soon were inside. 

The hiding place was actually her father's place of business. The back was like a separate house, except it was attached to the back wall of the business. The tour route takes you through the business and then into the back to the rooms they were hiding in and finally out to displays of Anne's actual diaries and a short film. 

It was very well organized, letting us walk at our own pace through the entirety of the rooms, some with short movies playing, showing period film or interviews with the people that helped or knew them. 

We were both impressed with two concepts. First, how large the rooms were that they had taken refuge in. Granted, over two years shut up in a small house would be impossible, but when you think of people hiding, you think of cramped quarters. Second, that they thought they could stay hidden in open rooms in a house in the middle of Amsterdam. We were amazed that they were not found earlier. It is not like you can hide a house in the middle of a city. Still we found the experience moving, enlightening, emotional and thought provoking. 

After the Anne Frank house we climbed back up to our room and enjoyed a little down time. I had downloaded the diary while in the house. I spent an hour rereading the beginning, now with the actual hiding place fresh in my mind. It brought the story to life and made it that much more powerful. As we lay there, the church Anne mentions in her diary rung every 15 minutes, just as it did for her. We were about the same distance from the bells as she was. It created a connection for us, to her. It made today's experience of seeing her house more interesting. 

Sunday, August 30 - Route Complete - 0 miles, Day 45 - Tour Rotterdam by Car - The Industrious Dutch

We slept in!  All the way until about 8:30 am. Woo hoo. We are at Adri and Stijnie's house in Rotterdam. We got up and had breakfast, all four of us at their round kitchen table. Muslix with extra fruit and juice. 

Sally and Stijnie talked downstairs while Adri and I went up to the computer room to look at pictures from his cycle trip. 

Before we knew it, it was one in the afternoon. We loaded into their car (a rare occurrence for them) and drove out to the new industrial area and ports. This was absolutely fascinating!

The Dutch needed to update their port facilities, but they were out of land. Solution?  Create new land. At the mouth of the river, they added about 10 square miles of land, extending out into the North Sea!  They dredged sand off the sea bottom and deposited it just offshore from the previous coastline until it was all above sea level, in some places 60' above sea level. They also brought millions of tons of rock from Norway to aid in the construction. They built new deep water ports for container ships, all automated. We stood and watched ships being loaded and unloaded by computer operated cranes and machines. They also added recreational beaches on the other side of this huge wide peninsula. Adri, with his position in social and economic development, was able to explain how government and business worked together to create this area. The government created the area at taxpayer expense. Now, they lease the property to industry to recoup the original outlay. He described a good working relationship between labor, business and government. The Dutch have always had to work together, having the common enemy of the sea to bind them together. Each "island", formed by the dikes, is called a Polder, a unit that works together. These fit into the hierarchy of local and national government much like our counties. 

While riding the Rhine, we had watched the barges moving up and down the river. I kept wondering where all their cargo was going and coming from. Now I knew. The down river barges bring their goods to this facility and are offloaded. These goods are whisked via robot to a waiting ocean going freighter and distributed around the world. Also, the cargo from that freighter is put on the barge boat to be transported up the Rhine. For me, the circle was now complete.

Adri and Stijnie are wonderful people. Both are extremely kind, thoughtful of each other and gracious. We had heard many times, from all riders, that the Dutch were the friendliest people on the planet. Adri and Stijnie reinforce that observation. We had a wonderful day with them, driving around Holland. During our long talks, we discovered Adri and I have the exact same birthdate, May 18, 1954!  We discovered this when our talk turned to our home and the eruption of Mt. St. Helens.

We returned to their home about 6:00 pm, enjoyed dinner and then talked late into the evening. It is a work day for Adri tomorrow and Stijnie is job hunting. 

Saturday, August 29 - Route Complete - 40 miles, Day 44 - Hoek vanHolland to Rotterdam - Hospitality

Back on day 4 in Chur (pronounced Ker),  we had our tent set up in the campground which was sandwiched between the Rhine and a gigantic swimming pool. We were working to get dinner completed when we saw a couple, nearly our age, ride in on their bikes. They rested a few minutes and then began setting up camp. Sally walked by, returning from the restroom, and stopped to talk for a few minutes. Later, the couple left some gear out to dry and rode out for dinner. They were not back from dinner when the thunderstorm started dropping rain. Sally pulled their clothing off the line and put it in their tent to keep it dry. A little later they returned and invited us to share a bottle of wine. The rain intensified, so we met them in the bathroom for wine and some talk. It was very fun. They invited us to stay with them when we finished our ride, as they lived in Rotterdam. That is where we are headed for today. 

We took down camp and rode to the beach for breakfast. Seated at one of the picnic tables in full view of the beach and North Sea, we enjoyed the early morning sun, light wind and quiet as we munched rolls, cheese and nectarines. 

We said goodbye to our ending point and headed off on the next phase of our trip: to visit Adri and Stijnie,  tour Rotterdam, sell the ebike, visit Amsterdam and then head to Paris. Not all today!  That is a summary of the next five days. Today, we ride to their house and then play it by ear. 

We were excited, as we expected to have the wind at our back for the ride to Rotterdam. It has been in our face all but a couple days and the prevailing winds should be pushing us back to town. Alas, it was a crosswind. Not strong, and not annoying, but not the tailwind we had hoped for. 

I had their house marked on my GPS. We slowly worked our way across town to their location, arriving about noon. Other than a few wrong turns, the ride was uneventful. We made the last turn and were riding along the Rotte River, the one the city is named after. On the GPS, it showed we were almost on top of their house. I stopped to check the address number on my email and found they were a few doors down. When I looked up, I saw Stijnie in the road waving us in. She had seen us approaching and was trying to catch our attention. She had it now. 

Their home is sandwiched between a canal and the Rotte River. Out their front door, the steps empty onto the sidewalk which runs along their one lane road. Paralleling the road is the river. There is about one foot of distance from the road curb to where the water in the river starts. Total distance from front door to canal edge, about 40'. Out the rear of their house is the canal, although this one is more of a wide ditch, maybe 10-12' across. From rear door to canal, 30'. They are surrounded by water. Their house is a little bit below sea level. The water pumping at their house is the same as at Kinderdyke. There is a low point about 100 yards behind their house. It has water, a pond, in it. The water from that pond is pumped up to the canal behind their house. From there it is pumped into the river in front of their house. This river is right at see level. It will only drain at low tide. A lock is closed at high tide to keep the sea out, then opened at low tide to let river drain into the sea. 

We spent the first part of the sunny afternoon talking, in front of the house on the small dock Adri had built on the river, watching the members of the rowing club across the water launch boats and row up and down the waterway.  We moved inside for lunch, then rode our bikes into the central train station to secure our tickets to Paris and inquire about selling the bike at the bike shop beneath the station. 

It took an hour to get the tickets, the line being quite long on this sunny, Saturday afternoon. The two contacts we had in the bike shop don't work weekends. We were told to inquire on Monday. 

Adri took us on a tour of Rotterdam, showing us the various projects under consideration in the city and recent changes. He also pointed out more of the canal system and water features. 

We returned to their house for dinner, then rode back into downtown for a waterfront concert with the Rotterdam Orchestra, featuring two opera singers and a 13 year old prodigy violinist. We arrived after it had started. We stood through the concert with limited viewing, but it was wonderful. Beautiful music on a beautiful night in the magnificent setting of the harbor. 

We toured more of the city in the dark before returning to their home. We talked until after midnight before calling it a night. The ride to their house from the Hoek of Holland was only 30 miles, but we had added an additional 10 with our afternoon rides.