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I’m in a hotel room on the outskirts of Amsterdam with one of the UKs most prolific cycle campaigners, a social media guru that is setting the Internet alight with videos of cycling infrastructure and a woman that has prevented the rest of us from spending the entire weekend lost and cycling around the port at Ijmuiden. For my part, I have taught the Italian barman downstairs to make a decent cup of tea.

We started out in Newcastle as we meant to go on – with cake – at the very lovely Cycle Hub before setting off to the ferry at Tynemouth where we became friends with a group of elderly Dutch male cyclists.

We survived a night of being blasted by Euro- pop on the Newcastle to Ijmuiden ferry and then cycled out into Ijmuiden in great excitement, if mainly in the wrong direction.

Lizzie took the navigation in hand so we were soon back on track and making new friends in Haarlem

We pedalled into Amsterdam high on roundabouts and their associated infrastructure

We’ve all been here before but the thrill of being able to cycle safely is so overwhelming you can’t tire of it. In fact, all your holiday photos end us looking like this

Here is Sally and Lizzie discussing all the ways back to our hotel that won’t involve being run over by a truck

We love Haarlem and will be returning there today to assess the possibilities of setting up a tea shop as we’ve been pretty horrified by the state of the liquid refreshments and feel it’s an area where we can make a genuine contribution towards Dutch culture. Here is  Claire being appalled by this particular cup of ‘tea’. It just goes to show that the Netherlands isn’t perfect.

“You shouldn’t really get on with that”

This wasn’t an auspicious start to our microadventure, but not entirely surprising given the recent media attention on ScotRail’s lack of bike love. Grumbling loudly, the conductor allowed us onto the almost empty 10.50 from Dunbar and closed the doors halfway through my speech on the benefits of cycling touring to the Scottish economy.

Our microadventure wasn’t supposed to start like this; we were going to cycle from home to Glasgow over the Easter holidays, joyfully handing #walkcyclevote leaflets and Pedal on Parliament flyers out to passing cyclists in the spring sunshine. The plan was to test our camping and cycling mettle in the safety of the back gardens of friends, where we could creep into the house if our ageing tent collapsed and then eat any Easter Eggs left lying around. Heavy rain and an ear infection reduced our aspirations down to getting from Musselburgh to Edinburgh in one piece by nightfall..

Deposited safely in Musselburgh we got our flags in order and set off to find our way onto National Cycle Network Route 1 – the long distance route running from Dover to the Shetland Isles that forms part of the North Sea Cycle Route.

We found NCN1 with alarming ease and cycled side by side on the wide cycle path running by the University. It unfortunately reduces in size and quality quite quickly but it still provided us with the opportunity to talk about the snails decorating the damp path. It took some time to persuade the mini-campaigner not to cheat evolution by moving every snail from the path, so we were able to fully enjoy this rural part of the network.

At the end of the path we were back on the road, so the mini-campaigner settled down in the trailer and I summoned my thigh muscles to get us safely onto the next section of path. We negotiated our way through the horror of Newcraighall Road, having decided that I didn’t want to find out if the ‘ramped steps over bridge’ at Brunstane on NCN1 was (im)passable with a heavy trailer.

We then lost some time as my 25 year old Duke of Edinburgh map reading skills failed me (yet again) and we had to backtrack to find the cycle path behind the Fort Kinnaird shopping centre.

Back on track, we followed the path as it wriggled through parks, housing estates and into Holyrood Park. Even in the rain this is a truly lovely ride and it’s easy to forget that you are coming into a capital city.

In the city we got back on mission and started to flag down passing cyclists and hand out Pedal on Parliament flyers. I’ve found that having a small child does increase the number of people prepared to talk to you in the street, possibly because they are assessing if they should call the statutory services. Thankfully lovely Jez here didn’t seem to think mini-campaigner was at risk and even agreed to take a batch of flyers to work and distribute them for us.

After admiring some of the new cycling infrastructure, eating excessive quantities of ‘naughty snacks’ (that’s chocolate coins at the moment) and some lunch we headed along the canal, pressing slowly on towards Corstorphine and our first night of camping with CTC Scotland committee member Claire.

The rain continued throughout the night, but the combination of excitement and exhaustion ensured that we both got a good night’s sleep. Determined to start the day the campaigning way, the mini-campaigner handed over one of our batch of #walkcyclevote flags to a delighted Claire..

Heartened by our successful first day we decided to continue onto Fife, where another CTC Scotland committee member, Gary, had offered their garden as our next staging post.

Neither Googlemaps or CycleStreets suggested a route that impressed Claire so she lead us back to the NCN1. As we followed Claire out of the residential maze of west Edinburgh, then through the Cammo Estate, I wondered how long it would have taken us to do this if we’d not been guided by a local expert route planner.

Once on NCN1 our route difficulties were not over, as I was easily confused into crossing this terrifying road by the cycle path sign. Some passing cyclists helped us realise my mistake and took a couple of Pedal on Parliament leaflets away with them as a reward.

Once free of the roadworks, we made our way to Inverkeithing were I dispatched mini-campaigner into Sandy Wallace Cycles with an armful of leaflets and a poster.

From there on the signage was excellent; the maps were put away and we enjoyed NCN 76 all the way to Aberdour. The path was rutted and muddy and steep in places but access gates and the sunshine kept me in high spirits and helped mini-campaigner catch up with some serious napping.

After a restorative lemonade in the Aberdour Hotel, Gary rode out to lead us the last couple of miles to Burntisland to ensure we were all pitched as the rain started again.

Next morning the wind had got up, the trailer was punctured and more rain was forecast. Call me a southern softy, but my thighs told me it was time to go home. The question was, would ScotRail let us on – trailer and all – at Burntisland?

Our short story ends happily as the lovely Laura on the 10.10 from Burntisland helped us onto her train with no grumbling, just kindness. Already loaded with a bike and a wheelchair, and another wheelchair to come, she swept us all into the carriage with no fuss, difficulty or grumbling. If only everything in life was more like Laura..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our son has brought some revolting things home from nursery over the last couple of years; hand, foot and mouth disease, a passion for ‘Frozen’ and head lice all being highlights. Yet pre-school managed to top this by sending home two books that only a hard-wired instinct has prevented me from burning. I bring you the adventures of ‘Ziggy’, an alien that has managed to land in a suburban hell where four year old are expected to prevent themselves from being run over, using the power of handholding and reflective coats. 

Running on the PAVEMENT is forbidden here, because cars need to drive on it to access their driveways. And if you get in the way you deserve to get squashed apparently. 

Whoever designed this place has some sort of people-hating condition. There is nowhere to cross the road, never mind ride a bike in safety.

I don’t endanger my child by encouraging him to ignore the conditions of the streets where we live, I just don’t think he should feel responsible for the behaviour of people in large metal machines that won’t even notice if they run him down. 

I’m looking forward to school sending home the adventures of Ziggy and the car driver, where Ziggy finds out that many collisions can be prevented by adults taking responsibility and looking out for children. Ideally I’d like to combine this approach with building infrastructure that protects pedestrians and cyclists. It can’t be harder than learning Danish..

With rain threatening we decided to spend the weekend in Rotterdam, rather than risk damp days of cycling towards our eventual destination of Bruges. From Rotterdam my husband visited ‘Vermeer Central’ (Delft), whilst my son and I spent a rainy afternoon in the brilliant Klieder cafe playing pirates and catching up on caffeine. The following day we pedalled out to Kinderdijk, a Unesco World Heritage Site, to explore the beautiful windmills and unique landscape. Also lovely was seeing this little girl, peddling her cargo bike in her pink party dress. The Waterbus back to Rotterdam was a revelation in cycle transportation – no hassle, no peculiar storage compartments, no weird booking systems or emotionally draining conversations – we just rolled on and parked up. Glorious. Our journey to Bruges provided us with an opportunity to practice our trailer folding and multiple bicycle handling skills. Trailers are not allowed on trains, but our folded trailer didn’t cause a stir and both legs of the journey (Rotterdam to Antwerp, then Antwerp to Bruges) went smoothly with the application of ‘naughty treats’ (crips and chocolate, the top of the treat tree). Our one day trip from Bruges was an evening to Damme – a lovely ride out on the canal; if you want to eat there you’ll have better luck during the day as the whole of Damme seemed to be keen to head home at 6pm. The return journey from Bruges to Amsterdam started to become epic when we circumnavigated the entire city before reaching the train station (a 10 minute ride through town for normal families). A full train, a cancelled train, some Belgian bureaucracy, poor bike storage and a huge pile of naughty treats later we got back to Amsterdam. The following morning it transpired, about 30 mins after we left our hotel, that Mr Elephant had decided to seek asylum in the Netherlands and had hid under the bed. This caused some chaos and a less than leisurely ride to the ferry terminal after he was recaptured. Despite again following the red (direct) route paths we could ride together as a family, entertaining the herons along the way..

We’ve reached Rotterdam, deciding to bypass Delft by bike and return on the train tomorrow instead.

We headed out of The Hague via a laundette where we’d dropped some washing the night before; I’ve recently been to the inaugural Cycle Touring Festival and been inspired by travelling tales that included not washing for 18 consecutive days, but it seems that not all of this household came prepared to wear the same clothes even for just a week..

Once we’d retrieved the laundry and purchased emergency fruit we launched into the morning traffic. Despite the proximity of trams and riding in the dooring zone we made it out safely into canal-land again quickly.

Our little one one has taken to shouting ‘It’s a path! It’s a path!’ as soon as we get out of a city centre so he can get out of his trailer and onto his bike. He seems delighted to be cycling along with us, despite a few crashes and a fairly constant stream of instructions to ‘stay by the grass/follow Mummy’ as his lane management is still on the shaky side.

 

Coming into Rotterdam we experienced another wonderful, wide and flowering cycle way adjacent to the motorway – perfect for a snack or a nap.

Roundabouts here are glorious things. I’ve seen quite a few variations in the last few days but there is a significant similarity across them all – you know you’ll come out the other side alive. With a whole path and crossing system for bikes you just don’t mix with the traffic on a large roundabout. On a smaller roundabout your crossing points are set back from the motorised traffic and it seems like you have priority in some places – David Hembrow has written extensively about Dutch roundabout design here if you want the full picture.

Rotterdam is a large, busy and vibrant city with plenty of motorised traffic but with infrastructure like this we felt safe cycling our sleeping child into the city centre. I can’t give a higher commendation than that.

I didn’t think I’d admit this but we find ourselves in the ‘EasyHotel’ in The Hague tonight, because it was, as the name suggests, just the easiest thing to do. Gone are the days when I’d happily try every hostel in town to get the best bargain, Lonely Planet in hand, and ready to do some polite British-style haggling. A small child repeatedly shouting ‘I want a treat/wee/sandwich’ drills through the brain like no other noise and is something I’m prepared to avoid at any cost. After last night’s near torture of finding a hotel late in the day I saw a familiar orange banner and dispensed with the attempt to find the rather more rustic accommodation we were heading for..

The anticipated 15 miles from Leiden to The Hague was extended due to another couple of missing junction numbers and my husband’s desire to see ‘something historic’ on the way (I’m not sure what this was as I wasn’t really listening – I was trying to take a photo of a roundabout at the time). Nonetheless, it’s been another glorious day of beautiful canalside views, easy cycling and my first experience of ‘kroketten’ – a breadcrumbed, deep fried cheese/cream sauce filled snack: it’s not a health food.

The infrastructure shots of the day are 1) a stretch of parking protected path, which is simple and effective and 2) a cycle path adjacent to the pedestrian pavement, which was a challenge for our son to understand.

In ‘other infrastructure’ news – we’ve seen quite a few playgrounds on our travels in recent years but we loved this one in The Hague today for it’s imaginative use of shapes, rather than just formal ‘play equipment’ you tend to see in the UK. We were rather impressed by the queueing technique on display too..

Leiden to The Hague: something in the region of 20 miles in around 4 hours (including a brief stop for lunch).

It’s been a challenging day, but here we are at last in lovely Leiden. Particularly lovely to us tonight as a few hours ago we thought we’d never find it.

We did manage to master the junction route system (my husband clutching the printed numbers and me with the Fietserbond Routeplanner app on my phone) which is really so simple that even two idiots can follow it.

The first section out of Amsterdam is lovely, through quiet parkland with few people that can be disturbed by our son’s issues with cycling on the ‘right’ side of the path..

Unfortunately Schiphol Airport is undertaking some construction work, leading to peculiar removal of signage. After a cryptic conversation with a barrier guard (‘red light, upstairs’) we followed some sports cyclists who conveniently led us back on track through Oud Meer, past lovely canals, excellent apple cake and fine views of windmills:

There was a whole selection of interesting infrastructure (if you find that sort of thing ‘interesting’) which will have to wait for another night. Let me just tantalise you with this cycle path that’s as BIG AS THE ROAD!

Our undoing was just 15km from Leiden when a kind passerby suggested that we try a lovely route using a local ferry service just up the road. A short ride, an unexpected river crossing by boat and a fine lunch later we found that the ferry service didn’t operate during the week. Unfortunately we didn’t double back but tried an ‘off plan’ route which seemed to involve cycling quite near Leiden but not actually getting into it. We finally found our old friend the ‘red cycle route’ and followed it into the centre..

Amsterdam to Leiden: Seven hours of cycling (including lunch and cake stops) covering around 40 miles by accident. Thank you Leiden and goodnight!

Today I have been mostly trying not to get run over.

36 hours into the Netherlands and I’m still standing in the middle of the road/cycle path/wheelchair user crossing point (yes, they have these too) shouting at my husband to ‘look look!’ at yet another person on a bike. The natives must think I have some sort of disorder as I’ve been grinning inanely at each one on a bike like we are kindred spirits.

And it’s not just me that is feeling the Amsterdam allure. The Husband suggested that we move here; he thinks it’s rather like Copenhagen but without all the awful Danish people (the Husband is Danish, before you start getting all offended).

Anyway, if you want to see the glorious diversity of people on bikes in Amsterdam you should check out Amsterdam Cycle Chic as they are clearly a far better photographer than me. Everything that’s important about cycling in the Netherlands has already been said by David Hembrow in great detail with actual evidence and statistics and based on years of living here. But, whilst standing around not getting run over today, I noticed the following:

There is extreme disregard of the National Standard in Cycle Training (the UK one) techniques

Instead, a whole set of new skills is on display – cycling whilst smoking, drinking tea, carrying heavy shopping, putting spare clothing into a basket, pushing another bike along, holding onto another person (on a scooter). Most impressive is the cycling whilst texting, which seems to be a favourite of young Amsterdam residents as around half of the people on bikes I saw were doing it.

You don’t need a cargo bike to carry stuff

I’ve been experiencing crippling cargo bike/bakfiets envy for some time, probably since we hired a Gazelle Cubby in Philadelphia last year. They are like cycling a sturdy armchair, which is comforting when you are carrying your tiny, beloved child through city centre traffic. However, it transpires you don’t really need one, you can carry most objects/offspring/friends on a solo bike with a few accessories – extra seats, extensive bungee cords – and making full use of the front cargo carrier that bikes here seem to have as standard.

Flipping on your hazard warning lights are licence to park where you like here too

I saw several drivers looks slightly apologetic, whilst bumping up onto the curb, through the cycle path, and parking. This explains why the Dutch flower lorry driver that parks every week in the cycle lane on my commute looks unfazed when I shouted at him about it (‘It’s normal in the Netherlands’ he said ‘Hmmph!’ I retorted in a disbelieving tone). My son is much more direct and shouts ‘naughty car driver on the pavement!’ at anything he sees as a parking infringement..

Finally, the most obvious but indefinable feature is the way people move around the city, the ‘bicycle chaos’ – an organised anarchy based on patience, whilst trusting that people won’t just run you down. Streetfilms have produced a great little film that shows it in action, but I’d recommend you come and experience it for yourself. I certainly couldn’t take a photo that did it any justice.

My husband is one of those ‘cycling indicator species’ that people are so fond of discussing. Like women, children and the elderly he just won’t cycle unless it’s convenient, safe and pleasant. So on Saturday morning we found ourselves pushing heavily laden bicycles around Newcastle city centre trying to find NRN route 72, the fabled cycle path out the ferry terminal..

Compared to most of the cycle infrastructure I’ve encountered in the UK it was heavenly; relatively well signposted, only a few opportunities to get mown down by a truck and some jolly pleasant green sections highly suitable for a 3.5 year old to dance on his pedals.

Cycling at our #familycycling speed of around 5mph we reached the ferry terminal in plenty of time ready to start the next stage of our adventure, and third mode of transport (our first stage, trying to get two touring bikes/luggage, a child’s bike, a folding trailer and a small child on the train required a great deal of resilience and effective marital communication. I’m pleased to report that no lives, bikes or marriages were lost in the operation).

And so to the Netherlands..

I failed on the whole map thing straight off so we aimlessly cycled out of the ferry terminal and headed towards a motorway sign that said ‘Amsterdam’ on it. We hopped onto the cycle path beside the road and just followed the signs. This is what we found:

Nothing really prepares you for what it’s like to actually cycle here. I’ve seen the photos, read the blog posts and sent the cycle campaigner tweets. Yet the flat, deliciously smooth tarmac, the continual signage, roundabouts where you don’t fear for your life and unbelievably wide paths are magical. It’s only been 12 hours but so far cycling here is like a dream.

I hope it’s all still there tomorrow morning..