I desparately wanted another bike, a real one, one which would give me pleasure. For however hard I push on the pedals of my bike, I seem to make hardly any progress and bikes overtake me without any noticeable effort of their riders, it seems. I am told that there are several reasons for that: The frame of my bike is made of steel and so far too heavy, and the wheels are too small. Ergo: the weight of the bike plus the size of the wheels are a few of the contributing factors. The folding bikes, which were the only ones we used when my husband was alive, are far lighter and easier to push in spite of the absence of gears. So I have been persuaded to find a second hand bike with 21 gears, a different system from the 7 gears I have had so far. I have always been a bit scared of such gears, because they seem rather vulnerable and I do not fancy putting a chain back on the chain wheel, even if I would know how. New bikes are dreadfully expensive, but second hand ones, no matter what they look like, are very cheap. This is a country for cyclists and people seem to buy the latest model every year. I have spotted a very nice bike on the website of a shop in Doorn, which is in Utrecht, an attractive province in the middle of Holland. The bike is my size and looks undamaged. So I persuade a friend to come with me as cycling is very healthy and it is after all a glorious day, with a promise of 22 degrees centigrade in the afternoon. We put his bicycle on the rack behind my car. Once in Doorn it is a pleasant surprise to find the bike hasn't been sold yet. It is not easy to spot it amidst rows of second hand bikes, a large shed full of them. It is in pristine condition. I ask the shopkeeper if I can take it out for the afternoon to test it. After all the proof of the pudding is in the eating. He has no objection whatsoever, so we mount our bikes and go for a very nice ride around Doorn, Leersum and Langbroek. It is an attractive area, fields, farmhouses, coppices and pockets of woodland alternating, with pleasant vistas everywhere. The country lanes are relatively quiet, although we are certainly not the only cyclists. It is a very popular pastime for the grey-haired segment of the Dutch population. But most of them seem to have electric bicycles which support the cyclist when the going becomes tough. The bike I am riding is an eye opener for me. I have never have such a fantastic, lightweight and easy rolling bike, even on dirt roads. I did not know they existed and wish I had known this years earlier. Of course I buy the bike. It is a real bargain, and looks as if it has hardly been used, if at all.
The weather is gorgeous, and we have time to spare as we had to be back at the shop rather early in the afternoon. Saturday is apparently early closing day. We decide to go for a walk in the grounds of Huize Doorn, which once was the abode of the last emperor of Germany, Wilhelm II. It is well-kept, but our intention of having a drink in the former Orangery is thwarted as the restaurant has been reserved for a party.
Instead we head for Rhenen, across the Grebbeberg, during the second world war the scene of heavy fighting. A military cemetery reminds every passer-by of that period and the many men who were killed in battle. Unfortunately the informative and very interesting site is in Dutch only.
We head for the "Blauwe Kamer" on the other side of the Grebbeberg, a nature reserve in the flood meadows of the river Rhine.(Their website too is in Dutch) There used to be a house built of blue coloured stone, thus the name of the nature reserve. There also used to be a brick factory, one of many along the river Rhine. The chimney is the only part which is still standing, plus a few ovens which now are the habitat of bats. Ponies and outlandish cows roam around, and it is also a bird sanctuary. Silver herons, kingfishers, Canadian geese and spoonbills are a few of the rare birds here. In one of the huts we meet with an ornithologist cum photographer-to-be, who tells us that in the morning he has dropped off his wife and grandchildren at the zoo on top of the Grebbeberg, and has spent all day here in this hut, observing wildlife and taking pictures of the different birds. He only knows a few of their names, as this is a new pastime, but he is going to find the names on the internet once he is home. He hands me his binoculars and points out a white heron, a rarity here. Reluctantly we leave him, hoping for a glimpse of the kingfisher of which he shows me a picture in his camera.
Near the river and the ferry across it, is a restaurant which offers fantastic views of the river, the nature reserve, and the tower of Rhenen in the distance. In the absence of a through road and heavy traffic, the lack of noise is a balm for us urban dwellers. On the terrace, in the sun, with a view of Rhenen and of the deer in the enclosure opposite, we enjoy a simple evening meal. This used to be the haunt of my father, who loved sitting here, enjoying a coffee or a meal whenever he had company. When I ask the waiter what he can recommend, he says that my father always chooses fish. So I have to tell him the sad news of my father's death. He is really moved, as my father had been a regular customer for years, who liked to joke with this very informal waiter. However, moved or not, he doesn't offer us a free drink!
We watch the sun disappear behind a small bank of clouds near the horizon and then head for home with our bikes. It has been a brilliant summer's day, the first one of 2011.
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