The four of us, Peter, Teresa, Mark and I, made it to Holland - and back - with no major incidents, no mechanical issues and, incredibly, no punctures. In fact, the most injurious incident was inflicted on me as a vicious swarm of mosquitos dined hungrily on my arm, creating an interesting series of yellow pustular lumps which uncannily mirrored the route we were taking on our journey; a cartographer’s delight right there, imprinted on my limb, easy to follow and impossible to lose.
A big shout out must go to Peter’s old school friend, Mark, for his navigational skills which (mostly - just don’t mention Rotterdam) went to plan. The whole experience of cycling in a country which is designed for cyclists was refreshing and liberating - so much so that we even dispensed with the helmets on a couple of occasions. We were blessed with glorious weather and very little wind (no jokes, please) and the cycling was a joyful experience - exactly what we had hoped for.
We all particularly enjoyed the historic city of Delft and the beautiful beaches in Scheveningen, two contrasting places but each with their own merits. The bustle of Rotterdam might well have appealed had we all been thirty years younger.
Whilst the details of the trip will be lost for Peter, the emotional memories will remain. As he says, this really was a case of living in and enjoying the moment. Nothing more, nothing less. It's a lesson for us all.
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