Journey's end

August 24, 2019

Röhrenfurth - Kassel and Den Haag - Hoek of Holland

It was an early start to what would be a long day, and the end of my journey. The destination I had, rather arbitrarily, picked out so long ago was only 35km or so away. I would need to make it before mid-morning, so got up at 5.30am, just as dawn was breaking. I would not only have to get to Kassel - which was some distance away, but easy (and flat) navigation along the river; but specifically to the Wilhelmshöhe station, which I knew was some distance to the west of the city. I had spent some time the last night zeroing in on it on the GPS, so figured that I would be able to get through the city and find it relatively easily.

Nevertheless, I didn't want to risk missing my (laboriously booked series of) trains back to the Netherlands, and thence my ferry connection, so set off with the dawn only just beginning to glow in the sky and the mist still rising in the river valley. It was extremely clear, cold and still, and my hands stung with cold outside the three layers I was wearing.

Mist rising in the valley of the Fulda. A literally atmospheric beginning to the last day.

It was all very romantic, really. The cycleway was deserted other than a single, hardy commuter

I pushed on, as fast as I could, feeling the cold and worried about the rather significant distance. I kept the average above 20kph and soon started to warm up. The cycleway was flat and perfectly surfaced, and I spun through deserted villages and increasing suburbia as I approached Kassel.

I'm not sure I want to know what this lorry was delivering!

Some creatures guarding the (impressive) cycle bridge over the Fulda

Coming through a series of factories and suburbs ... only 6km to go!

I emerged through the suburbs, and passed a huge youth hostel and campsite (which would have been a viable place to stay, and wouldn't have necessitated such an early-morning dash, but didn't look half as nice as my lodging at Röhrenfurth). And, anticlimactically, I was in Kassel.

I had made it: despite the (frankly justified) scepticism of the locals, I'd covered 355km in three days and crossed one of the hillier halves of Germany. I had to feel a little bit smug (though I think what this mostly proves is my pig-headedness).

This is it, journey's end. I was glad there was a formal sign, at least.

I picked my way to the west, following the GPS through some really terribly surfaced back streets, towards the Wilhelmshöhe high-speed station. It was quite a schlep out of town, a good 4km of weaving through suburbia and I was glad of the guidance. I never really saw the centre of Kassel, but it looks to be a sizeable and handsome place.

I followed the colossal spread of rails towards the station, wheeling the bike on the pavements, as the traffic was a little denser than I'd been used to. It was still before 9am, I had over 2 hours before my train was due. After some dithering over where to leave the bike, I chained it up and went in to buy coffee and (what felt like a lunch-time) sandwich at cafes thronged with morning commuters. I'm sure I looked a bit out of place, but as the fatigue of the early start and dash hit me, I didn't much care.

The massed rails outside the high-speed rail station

Now, I've had a few long journeys by rail through the continent with the Shift now, with very variable levels of stress. The long journey out to the East and Poland was one of the most laid back. Here, I had three changes - in Hamm; then crossing the Ruhr and Dutch border to Rhein; then Amersfoort, before getting to Den Haag - and some of these were very tight. My ferry was at 10pm, so in theory I had plenty of time to get to the ferryport (another 30km or so away), but still I anticipated some fun and lugging of the bike.

The trip started well, with an easy loading of the Shift into the dedicated bike car of the regional express train to Hamm, on the edge of the huge Ruhr conurbation.

Getting into the huge and industrial Ruhr connurbation of Dortmund-Essen-Duisberg-Dusseldorf

It was getting into the Ruhr that the fun started. The cross-Ruhr local train was more like a metro, and even though I could put the shift anywhere, it was packed with people. I kept a close hold of it (not that I was worried anyone would nick it, more to stop it falling over and crushing someone), and rather nervously watched the delay slowly tick up.

I had a grand total of eight minutes to make the connection in Rheine after crossing the (fortunately frictionless) border into the Netherlands, and this had been eroded to five by the time we approached the border. We then sat on the rails for a good three minutes, meaning I had a grand total of two minutes to change to the Amersfoort train. The good news was at least I knew which platform to head for; the bad was that I would need to change platforms.

When the train came in, I shot out the carriage, narrowly missing a lady who decided to try to board the train before letting off the mass of people disembarking (don't do this). I shot down the steps to the underpass, and then nearly ruptured myself shoving the fully-loaded Shift up the other side. I made it just as the doors were closing, and took a good ten minutes to get my breath back.

Fortunately that was as dramatic as it got, and I made my final connection on the quieter train to Den Haag. As always seems to happen, I got chatting to a friendly Dutchman on the way, who let me know the connection from Rotterdam to Hoek was apparently now running - useful knowledge for the future.

After six and a half hours of train travelling - it was after 4pm now - I was back in Den Haag. I bought a sandwich at the station, ate it, and started to pedal out the concourse. As I was leaving I had to pass some police, and was suddenly aware that maybe I shouldn't be cycling here. They immediately called out, saying "it's ok, you can bike here!" in the most affable way. What is the secret of Dutch friendliness?

Den Haag was packed with bikes for some kind of festival

It was another beautiful day, and I had plenty of time to get to the ferry port at Hoek 30km away. I slowly made my way back to the sea and the dunes, and joined the huge crowds that had come out of the city to enjoy the beach on this lovely Saturday. It was such a contrast from the rainy, deserted weekday morning where I'd biked this way two weeks before.

In the dunes I took a wrong turn and ended up down a dead end; a Dutch guy on a moped with his girlfriend had just done the same thing, and we shrugged and laughed about it together. Further along the dunes I saw a small crowd of people around the path - it turned out to be a little fox, that was sitting as if tame in the middle of the tarmac. I didn't get a picture of it unfortunately.

At the edge of the dunes, I passed a restaurant, and considered killing some time there before getting to the ferry - but, despite the beauty of the evening, I kinda wanted to be securely on my transport home. As I neared Hoek, I passed an English lady and her young son, who asked me if this was the way the ferry port. I was nearing home again.

The cycleway through the dunes to Hoek. What a contrast from the trip out!

I reached the ferry terminal with time to spare, and went through the familiar check in and securing the bike in the hold. This will now be the eighth ferry trip with the Shift in three years, so it's all rather routine. In my time-shifted state, I was already hungry for dinner, so got a good meal - before retiring to the deck to drink beer, giving the impression of though but realling just staring into the sunset.

A rather well deserved drink. That, incidentally, is my phone, which didn't need charging for the entire trip

Looking out over the North sea towards home

Today's ride: 66 km (41 miles)
Total: 1,372 km (852 miles)

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