Many thanks to Jane Dent (pictured) for this fascinating guest blog about her experiences cycling in Holland.
‘Knooppunt’ isn't a word that trips lightly off the English tongue, but if you ever go exploring Holland by bike, it will soon become part of your Dutch vocabulary.
Found along cycles paths, Knooppunten were introduced in Holland last year. They are boards with a clear and simple map of the surrounding area. Each board has a green number which shows you where you are on the map. Scattered around the map are lots of other numbers. You decide where you want to go and look at its number on the map. Then you look at the nearby fingerpost, which directs you to your chosen number, along a very pleasant, traffic-free route. Hmm, if only we had such a simple bike mapping system over here.
I chose Holland for our holiday last year because I'd just been bitten by the bike bug. I'd got into the habit of going shopping on a bike, going to work on a bike, going to post a letter on a bike. Now it was time to go sightseeing on a bike. Not being one for breaking into a sweat while cycling, Holland was the obvious choice, being flat as a pannenkoek (there, you've learnt a Dutch word already). It also has lots of cycle paths and is only a train and ferry ride away from London (I do break into a sweat if I have to get on a plane).
We decided to cycle down the River IJsell, reasoning we couldn't get lost as long as we kept the river on our right. Our plan worked. We had a great time – pedalling through picturesque historic towns (the river IJsell was a trade route in the middle ages), freewheeling through forests, and teetering along the edge of canals in Holland's answer to Venice: Giethoorn, a fairytale village full of tiny bridges and dinky thatched cottages (I half expected a group of Munchkins to appear every time I turned a corner).
We liked Holland so much we decided to go back for another week. This time, we said, we'll use a map. Cue a ride to Stanfords, followed by several happy hours at the kitchen table with map and highlighter pen. Back in a different bit of Holland, however, we discovered the newly installed knooppunten made our map redundant. So, less time looking at maps, more time looking at windmills.
Our beds each night came courtesy of Vrienden Op De Fiets (www.vriendenopdefiets.nl), which translates as 'Friends of the Bicycle'. Having five English cyclists was quite a novelty for our hosts as the organisation isn't well known over here. I promised my hosts I would try and change that. So here goes.
For 10 euros you get a membership card and a directory of 3,900 homes where you can stay for a bargain 19 euros a night. Most of our hosts were people whose children had grown up and left, so they had empty bedrooms. The Dutch are an affluent and stylish nation, and we slept in architect designed houses, smallholdings, canal-side thatched cottages and council flats. We awoke to a feast of a breakfast, including (we counted in one place) up to NINE types of bread.
The best part of Vrienden op de Fiets is that you get to talk to Dutch people. We met 78-year-old Laurenz, who had a day trip planned; he nipped off halfway through breakfast to cycle 120km to Germany and back. We met Epp who showed us his chickens and horses and gave us a quick beekeeping lesson and a jar of honey. We got to know Ditte who kept peacocks and only spoke one word of English ('rain') but visited 'our' part of her house several times for a chat involving extensive use of mime. And there was Trudi, who made us a traditional Dutch spice cake, and Sofia, who cooked us tiny Dutch pannenkoeken for breakfast. Thanks to the Vrienden, we felt we'd 'connected' with Holland.
Cycling by numbers on safe bike paths in Holland, my thoughts often turned to London's less than perfect biking experience. But, holidays over, I rode home from Liverpool Street station and saw they were installing a new off-road bike path yards from my house. It's a bit short, and it ends abruptly. But hey, I thought, there's hope.
