August 6, 2023
Day 17: Den Oever to Alkmaar
Across the Afsluitdijk
Today starts as last night ended - by bus.
We spent the night in a surprisingly good hotel room at a motorway service centre specifically because it was the closest to an important bus stop. No, not for lunchtime shelter this time. We are about to cross a very long causeway, or dyke, one that many Dutch people have mentioned to us this week: The Afsluitdijk. Constructed between 1927 and 1923, the 32 km dam closes off the freshwater Ijsselmeer from the North Sea.
The reason we’re cruising in fossil-fuel powered comfort is because cyclists are not permitted on the Afsluitdijk while long-running construction work is underway. A major part of the project is to raise its height by 2 metres – which seems sensible.
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To compensate for keeping cyclists off the dyke, there’s a free bike bus, running every hour each way, a 20 minute ride from the hotel. The driver opens the door, drops a ramp and takes over securing our bikes with great care. We’re the only two passengers this way and halfway across, he asks if we’d like to stop at the statues. It’s normally forbidden but he has switched off his GPS, he says, so that we can turn into the closed-off carpark.
We take quick snaps of Cornelis Lely, the obviously talented Dutch engineer responsible for the design and build of Afsluitdijk , and De Steenzetter (The Stone Setter), a tribute to the 5000 craftsmen who actually built the dyke.
Then it’s pedal to the metal as the driver races the bus to the far end, making up for the time that (cough) someone used up taking her photos.
I recall the gregarious café owner we met the other day after turning inland from the sea wall. He was obviously a proud Frieslander and made two cracks at his provincial neighbours. The Groningen one was probably unprintable, given the gist of the comment. His put-down of the Hollanders was a little more subtle. According to him, men from Friesland began working on the Afsluitdijk from the north at the same time as men from Holland tackled it from the south. When they met, a pole was planted and – guess what? – the Frieslanders had covered well over half the distance. I couldn’t find any evidence to confirm or deny this narrative, so it will have to remain just a story.
OK, finally we’re off the bus and ready to propel ourselves the rest of the way to Alkmaar. The route pretty much follows a motorway and other major roads, though nearly always on a well-separated cycleway. It’s easy riding, with a tail wind, and we’re actively looking for an excuse to delay our arrival this afternoon to closer to check-in time. Coffee is always the answer to everything so we’re on full alert as we pass through small towns. It’s Sunday though; hopes aren’t high.
At a motorway service centre, we’re about to give up when I check in with Mrs Google. If we were to go THAT way, under THAT overpass, we would come to a proper coffee shop in 600 metres, she admits. So we do. And it’s very pleasant. To my surprise, the coffee menu offers a flat white – the first I’ve come across since we left home. We’re not the only elderly cyclists in the shop either – there’s a local group out on their e-bikes, fully shower-proofed against the elements. (It’s been drizzly this morning, but nothing too serious.)
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As we leave, Bruce naively asks why it’s Mrs Google. Why not Mr? Hmm, let me see. Guides foreigners to Dutch coffee shops, while making sure Jo Bloggs doesn’t get lost in his home town, while answering the Ultimate Question: “What is the meaning of life?” – check, check and check (49). Multi-tasking genius.
We look for a nice lunch spot next, just down the road in Nieuwe Niedorp. A woman walking her lovely rescue dog sends us over to the other side of the wee canal where we try to boil the stove one last time (it’s run out of gas) and enjoy the view.
Now we’re riding through more built-up areas - quite a contrast from the previous seven days, from when we left Bremen. Towns merge into each other until, finally, we reach the outskirts of Alkmaar, ride along the endless Noordhollandsch canal circling the town and arrive at the front door of the Amrath Hotel.
We’re here for two nights so are looking forward to a day without panniers or an agenda tomorrow.
Bruce walks down to the local Jumbo while I write this and returns with edibles. The TV is on and we’re watching the final laps of the UCI Worlds men’s road race. You can leave us to it now.
Today's ride: 54 km (34 miles)
Total: 893 km (555 miles)
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