Real Travel Begins

10 May 2011

Nunspeet to Apeldoorn, Nederland

There’s nothing but the quiet whine of the rubber on the tarmac.

Considering I’ve cycled in Snowy Moutains of Australia on just dirt ‘roads’ this feels like a piece of piss. Not that I know what that really feels like.

The faded red bike lane suddenly disappears, so I refer to my map that a tourist office worker snuck to me for free in the name of students. I should probably play victim more often and say I’m a poor, helpless, unfortunate student – who’s travelling for a year…?

Where’s the faded red lane?

Everything you pass stays in view just long enough for appreciation while you’re feeling and manually pushing through every inch of your journey. Such is the nature of bike riding; it’s like walking but one covers four times the distance in a quarter of the time and effort.

What’s particularly good now is that I haven’t seen anyone else on the road for some time so I’m hoping when I do the proper rides will be the same.