September 3, 2022
Day 25: To Coevorden
Today it is exactly eight years since Dea and I met each other in Mongolia. Having just reread my blog from that day as I reupload it, it is really clear that a lot has changed. For one thing I cycled 117 kilometres that day. Today we were aiming for about 17. We thought Kevin deserved an easy day after yesterday and we were more than happy to hang out at the campsite all morning. It was such a small, peaceful place. Dea even talked about coming back to Holland again just to stay here.
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We left at the midday checkout time even though I’m sure the friendly owner wouldn’t have minded us staying longer. We probably should have stayed because after his long nap Kevin wasn’t ready to sleep in the trailer yet. So instead we cycled 100 metres down the road and took a break by a bench.
We had initially planned to cycle along a canal direct to Coevorden, but as we took our break next to it we noticed that the narrow road was a bit busy and that made us nervous after yesterday. It was also a road made of bricks and was a bit bumpy for the trailer, so we made a new plan and headed on a different route on some small quiet roads instead.
There was only one problem - Kevin wasn’t falling asleep and was in fact making some unsatisfied noises from the trailer. His morning nap had maybe been a bit too long and he still wasn’t ready to sleep yet. So we stopped at a crossroads where there was shade and had another break. At this point we had gone maybe four kilometres and were already on break number two.
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As I was lying there trying to squeeze out a few more bench presses with a 8.5kg baby a cyclist whizzed by shouting something at us in Dutch. “We don’t speak Dutch!” Dea shouted back.
“I wonder what he said,” I mused. “Maybe something about never seeing anyone camp here in 72 years.”
“What language do you speak then?” I was surprised to see that the man had stopped his bike and come over. He was about 50, but a young 50, a 50 who likes a beer and likes to party. Or maybe he was 45, I don’t know.
“When you are done with lying there you should take a walk down that path. First you will see some pigs. Then you will see a music stage where we hold a festival. One last night and another tonight. You can come for a beer if you want. Usually Danish people like a beer.”
And then he was off again. It was a strange suggestion, unexpected in this Dutch countryside, but we followed the path. And indeed we did come first to some pigs, and then to a very interesting place with a stage and a bar and a sort of wild west atmosphere, very rustic and atmospheric and you could see how it would be a very cool place for an intimate sort of festival. Beyond this area we found the man again, sitting having a beer with some other 50 or possibly 45 year old men. He told us this was his land next to his house and he sort of did it all just for fun. He was a really nice guy, but we had to turn down the beer because it was time for Kevin’s nap. Quite a contrast from this time eight years ago when I’d stopped for an invitation to a Mongolian picnic and chugged down glasses of vodka.
After more quiet roads we joined a bike path into Coevorden that was in much better condition and the Netherlands was doing a much better job of winning us over today. We followed what must have once been a moat around the old town that is now a big green space that I was surprised to see not being used by anybody on this sunny Saturday. Well, we used it for a break beside a lake. Dea stayed with Kevin and I went to get some shopping.
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From there we had a five kilometre ride out of town on small roads to our host. In Denmark we had used “brug min baghave” and in Germany “one night tent” but in the Netherlands it is “welcome to my garden”. It is the same principle, although it is only supposed to be for slow travelers, hikers or cyclists. Our hosts lived right out in the countryside but were having a family get together so they just showed us to our spot and left us to it. That was fine by us - sometimes it can be difficult to keep being social, every day somewhere new, especially as Kevin was being fussy again. But on the other hand, it has been so interesting to get to see all of these different places and wow, how differently people do live and keep their gardens! Tonight was the yard behind an old brick farmhouse next to a filthy old caravan, with a cat and a dog, a few chickens, and eight sheep that our hosts keep in the field behind. It was in many ways our kind of place, much more so than immaculate lawns with sprinkler systems anyway. We went through our routine of feeding Kevin and feeding ourselves and putting Kevin to bed. We then managed to take a few minutes before sunset to watch the animals - the sheep and the cows in the next field. It reminded me of watching animals in faraway countries, in places like Mongolia. Having Kevin with us now means such destinations are out of reach, and yet having him with us has also changed our way of travelling and brought us new experiences. Before we would have cycled quickly through these countries, wild camping in the forest each night. Now we move slowly and we see more, meet more people, and are much more in touch with the land. These were my thoughts as I watched the grazing animals - being reminded of travelling through faraway lands in search of adventure, of the eight amazing years of adventure I’ve had with Dea, and how doing this now with Kevin, a boy whose story really begins on this day eight years ago, is the best adventure of it all.
Today's ride: 18 km (11 miles)
Total: 837 km (520 miles)
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