12th July 77km

At last, today felt like being on the open road. I'm all for bike paths but there is something lovely about choosing the road from A to B and getting going. With a bike path it's often hard to tell where you are. Or make a change. Or get off. It's sometimes like being trapped in bicycle world. 

After I left the farm, and the puppy who had by then interrupted my quiet breakfast and ran away with my yoghurt container.  I followed the road from Drimmelen to Zevenbergen where I had lunch in a bakery. After that I headed south to Oudenbosch then onto Roosendahl.   I had planned to stop there for another break but it wasn't the most appealing place. Besides which, I had food that needed eating. After cycling for miles imagining it I finally gave in and sat on a grass verge to eat bread and runny Brie. 

I got on my way again and soon crossed the border into Belgium and Essen. I had my site picked out about 5k south so cycled through. I quickly hit the town I was heading for and found the campsite sign. But, no site. I went back and checked. Then I decided to go a little further along the road. Eventually I had to accept that the site had gone and so navigate my way back to Essen and the site here. That little journey accounts for the last 12km of the day. 

With aching legs I pitched my tent and then headed out on foot (I couldn't face unloading my bike and I quite fancied a glass of wine) to this little Italian. I have eaten 3/4 of a huge pizza but then rest is in a box- probably for breakfast. 

And the wine? I'm on my second glass.  

  

The open road

The dreaded cobbles

Welcome to Belgium

And as they've just given me a drink on the house, a name check to 'O' Sole Mio' of Essen. 

11th July 58km

Today has not been as I expected it to be. It started late after I slept in (normally the sound of other campers wakes me but as it was such a quiet site, I slept on through). I packed up whilst chatting to the lady next door. She told me all about the cycling adventures of her son. 

I went into Dordrecht for breakfast. Quite an interesting town with what seemed to be an art or antique festival.  After eating a sandwich and chips (you've got to fuel up for these hard days on the road) I set off towards the ferry and the Biesbosch.

I decided to start my tour with a visit to the surprisingly interesting museum. The area is a bit like the Fens (I imagine) and so the industry had been reeds and willow. With rising sea levels these had died out and there had been some significant floods. Hence what I saw in the next room. A 10 year plan to re-dig dykes and change the water course. 

I tell you this as the next hour was spent cycling through those works. Most of the roads were gone. Or dead ends. And the quiet calm day I had planed looked very far away.  I struggled on through and eventually turned off the main - and only- road onto a quieter route. This took me into the Biesbosch I had been imagining. I crossed a small bridge and onto a jetty where I rang the bell for the boat to come and collect me. I chatted to the men in what was either Dutch or German about where I was going and then departed. For the next 5 miles I got my rural idyll. 

At the town I stocked up from the supermarket and then cycled onto Drimmelen Mariner where I had planned to camp. The site looked closed although a new €25 a night (usual rate is €10-12) site was there instead. I wasn't particularly taken with the prospect so cycled back to where I had seen a sign pointing to a house.  

And here I am, in a farmer's garden overlooking the cow shed. I would love to say its quiet but its milking time. 

Gallery 

High five for the Biesbosch

Closed roads and diversions

At last 

The farm puppy and I, bonding.