Hoekse Waard by bike [80km]

Numansdorp Travel Blog

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I refused with all my might to sit home for two weeks waiting for my new bike to arrive. Certainly not with the gorgeous weather we had last week. My daily rounds had been prospound for more than a month (almost two months), afraid to ruin my only bike with my fanatic biking. Because then I would have no bike at all. But with this kind of weather, I just can't sit still at home.

And that's why I left on mothersday to my mother. She was staying in her caravan on a camping near Herkingen somewhere at the southern side of the Zeeland island called Overflakkee. I would go to Barendrecht, through the Heinenoord-tunnel and there should without any doubt what so ever be a sign directing me to Middelharnis. A town at the northern side of that same island. I proved myself wrong however. Nothing seemed to indicate that south of this island of Zuid-Holland there should be an complete province called Zeeland. So I wound op with no alternative than to ask for directions.

I do not like asking for directions. I know I may sound like a man saying this, but I really don't. First of all, when I am on my bike, I seem to be in some kind of trance and I do not want to stop. But also I really do not like the interminable discussions.
"Goodday... I'm on my way to Zeeland, but I can't find the bridge."
"Zeeland? That quite a long way to go. Where is the journey going?"
Something of a glassy look is developing in their eyes...
"And where did you come from?"
At this point I still do not have a idea where the desired bridge is located. You can see a innerbattle begin to give shape. 'Shall I get some one with a straitjacket or is  this kind of behavior not really a treat to society?' Finally they decide to let me go free on my bike and some direction follow at last.

In the end I decide to take my change with the inhabitants and ask for directions. Indeed a kind of simular conversation follows (people are sooo predictable) and in the end pointed me in the wrong direction. By the time I figured that one out, the small dyke-path was leading me north again. And that was fine by me! The trip was longer that the last one I made on my Giant Boulder mountainbike and this time I was making it on a 'for sport totally unsuitable bike'. On top of that... I was thirsty!

That morning I had left home with the discovery that I didn't possess any bottles to fill with water. I even drove by my ex-boyfriends home, because sometimes he drinks cola or some other kind of soda, but he didn't had any empty bottles for me. So I figured I would bump into a gasstation on my way where I could get something to drink. So I thought.
Okay, to be completely honest, I ran into some gasstations. The first one was near my house, and I wasn't thirsty yet and I didn't know I would be in that kind of need. The second one I encountered was closed, that was by the time my thirst was growing into great proportions. The third was situated at the horizon disconnected from me by a labyrinth of dykes and would probably prove just as closed when I could ever find my way there (My head was now painfully aching). The fourth one was located at the other side of the highway (By that time I was drifting about dehydrated with a headache, dizzy and a mouth full of saliva in a condition that resembles something I will not call by it's name, because it seemed like spunk).

I left at 7 o'clock in the morning and arrived at my sons at 13 o'clock (Who had called me, during the day, to ask me what time I would be with him, because he wanted to give me his mothersday-presents). Once I was finally there, I devoured litres of fluid, after which my headache and dizziness faded. And after a day in the sun I was also badly sunburned. Nice BBQ too ;D
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