Another day of banktop riding, with sunshine in the afternoon, following the meanders of the IJssel river on the LF3. I wasn’t due in Zwolle at my accommodation tonight until 7pm, giving me plenty of time to dawdle, which at the pace I cycle on my folder is just as well.
After leaving the raucous city mayhem of Bronkhorst – birdsong, in other words – behind me, I had the excitement of a ferry crossing. The Netherlands still has countless regular ferries across waterways like this, platform jobs that shuttle people, bikes and cars for a euro or two. The only other passenger waiting patiently this damp, cloudy morning was an old, friendly local, who clearly knew the boat schedule, greeted me amiably, and happened to be a black labrador.
A few lanes away was Zutphen, one of the historic Hanseatic towns lining the IJssel that made money from its aquatic motorway to the world’s mid-millennium economy. There were few people around as I poked about in the old town centre. My breakfast pastries came from a Albert Heijn supermarket, where I also picked up that other vital supply for touring cyclists, fresh wifi, to check up on upcoming accommodation.
From Zutphen – which does rather sound like a headache tablet – LF3’s quiet lanes, paths and (good) farm tracks roughly paralleled the river, which at one point had an excitingly large ship barrelling along, as if I needed reminding it still had strong currents of money flowing down it. Spring was clearly in the air, with apple blossom and magnolias out in colourful force.
Deventer was another Hanseatic hub, and I spent an hour wandering its historic (and little-trafficked) centre and lunched on Albert Heijn pizza.
Fine churches, grand market squares lined with outdoor cafe tables, boutique shops, cobbled lanes, quaint side-streets, some of them being decorated with colourful umbrellas no doubt for some festival. Which was appropriate, as it started raining.
The shower didn’t last long, though, and soon the afternoon turned sunny and springlike and the rest of the day was a leisurely amble by the river, accompanied by the clacking out countless storks up in their poletop nests.
There were plenty of other cyclists gliding up and down the LF3 today, mostly mature, well wrapped-up couples on upright bikes.
The Dutch are tall enough already, but put them on a sit-up-and-beg cycle – probably with e-assistance, so they don’t have to crouch down to pedal hard against the wind – and they’re all eight feet tall.
I stopped frequently, my 7pm target time in mind, to snack or take pictures or consult my phone’s map app to discover the winding LF3 was yet another few kilometres further to Zwolle than the direct roadside bike path over there.
I got into Zwolle about five and explored its fine centre, another parade of cobbles, churches, town halls, pavement cafes and boat-lined canals. Very little car traffic in the centre, but it was still rush hour, with (to British eyes) a bewildering number of bikes clattering past.
My accommodation tonight was through Vrienden op de Fiets, a Dutch organisation supplying its members cyclist-friendly accommodation at private houses of cyclists for a straight free of €25 for bed and breakfast: a very good deal considering the cheapest hotel or guesthouse would be two or three times that in many places.
Plus, of course, you get to meet Dutch people, such as Marijke, my host for the night. She showed me pictures of her bike tours to romantic places such as Paris and Norwich, and explained that like all Dutch people she has three bikes: a folder for taking on trains, a tourer/town bike for leisure and getting around, and an MTB for all those Dutch mountains.
Miles today: 51
Miles since Drielandenpunt: 208