On rivers to the airport

We have cycled several times in the Netherlands. Nevertheless, we find our neighboring country interesting. The variety of campsites suits us. Mini and farm campsites are our favorites.

At Nordhorn we changed our course towards the Netherlands. We stop at the first campsite behind the border. Instant hit. Mini camping with tent meadow and picnic table plus lounge for cyclists and hikers. Without exaggeration: When we travel with Nylonvilla, a dry room is a luxury for us. Even without rain, the outside of our tent is wet in the morning, and now it rains more often. The nights are cool in September, but it is warm and cozy in our sleeping bags. If the weather is bad for a longer period of time, we will stay two or three nights. Having time is a luxury and is worth more to us than money.

The cycle path takes us south, always close to the German border. We are briefly in our home country twice. In Elten we ask ourselves: Where are we? The small, pretty town has an eventful German-Dutch history and has been part of Germany again for almost 60 years. We cycle through forests, up hills, down hills. Sometimes we meet other touring cyclists. In Millingen we cross the Rhine, which is called Waal here. The ferry wobbles its way through the cargo ships. Our destination is the Meuse, which we will reach soon. In fact, our campsite only exists on paper (or on Google Maps). No problem, six km further we find the ideal place for us. Even with a clothesline where we can dry our damp sleeping bags and mats in the sunshine.

We had imagined the Maas route differently. We notice more corn than meuse. It is not a cycle path directly on the river, the route connects the places near the Meuse. We continue cycling. And we will be rewarded for our patience. Behind Venlo the landscape becomes nice. In Kessel, the romantic village on the Maas, you are suddenly in picture-perfect Holland. The castle is impressive, the houses charming. But the place is deserted, no café is open. We only meet the ferryman who takes us across the river. The market in Swalmen is lively. In front of the supermarket we are surrounded by curious people. There is a lot of cycling here, but not with a lot of luggage and long distances. But increasingly with batteries and motors. Werner speaks a little Dutch, explains our route and that our batteries are our legs. The Rohloff rear wheel hubs were once again suspected of being a motor.

Roermond impresses us. A beautiful pavilion stands on the church square. Next to it is the huge Munsterkerk.

We find a nice campsite in Puth am Weinberg. We are now in South Limburg, with decent climbs and descents. It's raining persistently. This campsite has the much-needed washing machine, but no lounge. The friendly owners, as the only campers, quickly put a table and chairs in the bike barn for us. We even dry our laundry in our private tumble dryer.

In Maastricht we witness a military parade. Young soldiers are sworn in. The young men walk individually across the large square and take their vows.

We continue to follow the Maas route and are quickly in Belgium. The bike paths are getting worse. We often roll through glass. Things will be difficult in Liège. We push through construction sites. See lots of beautiful buildings. But there are no campsites. Finding hotels that will safely store our bikes is a game of dice. If it doesn't work, we'll be in this strange city in the evening and don't know where to go. Again we are faced with a decision: continue cycling to France to fly from Paris? Or maybe head to Basel Airport? We consult with our travel agency. There are direct flights to Mexico only from Paris, but not from Basel. With all our luggage, two bike boxes and four large bags, we don't want to change planes. Apart from Paris, the only option is Frankfurt, which we decide on very quickly. In the afternoon we jet back to the Netherlands on the other side of the Maas. Needless to say, there are several campsites just over the border. We cycle to the Rhine via Aachen.

Back in Germany so quickly. But since we let everything happen to us and plan little, we are not safe from surprises. Broken ankle? I can cycle again, that's all that matters. Even if that meant we started six weeks later. Everything bad has something good. We would never have met the young touring cyclist Martin from Hamburg, who overtook us in Würselen, if we had started as planned. It was his first time cycling alone and he had a lot of questions. We would never have met Andreas in Cologne, who drives his self-built motorbike with a trailer through Europe to sleep. The Norwegian who explores the world on Interrail trains would never have camped next to us.

It's worth leaving your couch at home. And accept a few inconveniences. Like pedaling up mountains, enduring wind, heat, cold, rain, poverty, child labor, noise and dirt. We are rewarded with impressive encounters, fantastic views, heightened senses, valuable memories and diverse experiences. All things that don't tend to happen at home.

Broken cycle paths in Cologne. We feel more sorry for our bikes than for ourselves. The path on the Rhine is easily passable again. We are looking for a baker in Wesseling. A woman explains the way to us. She pushes her husband in a wheelchair. Years ago they cycled to Spain with two other couples every autumn. It was the best time of her life. "You're doing it right, you'll live on the memories for the rest of your life," she tells us.

The Siebengebirge appears. We sit by the Rhine, enjoying the view and the beautiful late summer weather. Suddenly a sign: Rhineland-Palatinate. What, we're that far south already? We weren't even aware of it. In Remagen we set up our tent near the Peace Bridge. We are interested in the geyser in Andernach. We want to cycle there. If it's not possible, we'll be told at the tourist information center. You can only reach this natural wonder by boat. You can't or don't want to store our bikes safely. Sometimes it doesn't work. At the campsite in Koblenz we are warned about gang-related bicycle theft. A container was purchased specifically. We also have our bikes locked up in the evening. The Deutsches Eck is our destination the next morning. Koblenz is beautiful. The same goes for Bacharach, where we camp the next evening. The Rhine arch to Boppard spoils us with fantastic views. A Belgian speaks to us in St. Goar. He urgently needs an air pump. He rightly suspects we have one. Werner pumps up his flat tire, but the valve seems to be defective. Hopefully he still got to his motorhome by cycling.

We have already been to Los Angeles, but we are seeing the Lorelei for the first time. We've been to Chicago, but never to the Rheingau. We should definitely go there before we leave Germany. We chose a campsite behind Bingen that can be seen from the bike path but cannot be reached. We ask ourselves through to the entrance. I expected it. This place does not accept day guests. A nice long-term camper cycles back a few km with us and shows us the nearest campsite. We've already passed here. This place advertises modern sanitary facilities, but only offers dirty containers, some full of vomit. We ask for cleaning, which we are promised but not done. On the tent meadow we look for a clean place between dog poop and old banana peels. We are reconciled by friendly tent neighbors who invite us for a beer. Only we campers urgently need the sanitary facilities; the other campers in the motorhome have their own toilets. How we envy them right now. But it starts to pour and we don't drink beer together but sit out the rain in our tents.

We have now booked our flight. We have a good two weeks left for preparations such as getting bike boxes, booking airport taxis and printing out various papers. We get an apartment in Wiesbaden. Firstly, the last expensive and poor campsite spoiled our desire to go camping. Secondly, the weather is lousy. Third, we need a laundromat. Fourthly, Werner definitely needs to go to the barber. He no longer resembles the picture in his passport.

We indulge in luxury: use soft terry towels, sleep in bed, sit on chairs at the table, watch the rain behind the window pane. But the longing for the simple life in the tent quickly catches up with us. The urgently needed copy shop is not far. In a nearby street, firmly in Turkish hands, there is a launderette and a large selection of barbers. We meet my cousin in Mainz. We pick her up from her office, stroll through the old town and visit the cathedral. Unplanned visits are always the best. What a joy to see again.

The weather is good. Everything done except bike boxes ordered. We still have time and cycle to the Rheingau. Everyone makes a pilgrimage to Eberbach Monastery, we climb Marienthal Monastery on our bikes. We go to Bingen again. In the Museum am Strom it is no problem to safely store our loaded bikes. The Hildegard von Bingen exhibition impresses us. There are wine festivals everywhere now. With red wine and onion cake, we check out campsites near the airport. And of course bike shops where we want to ask for bike boxes. Nice Warmshowers (similar to Couchsurfing, but only for touring cyclists) from Kelsterbach, very close to the airport, immediately said they would host us for the last two nights before departure. First we head for the campsite in Mainz-Kastel. Luckily, another direct hit. The long-term camper Michael immediately takes us under his wing. As a backpacker he traveled all over the world. We have a lot to tell each other. He takes us to a bicycle shop in Gustavsburg, where we can easily get two large bicycle boxes. Big is important for Werner's bike. And not bad for my "children's bike" either. If we're lucky, it'll fit in completely. We put the boxes on a pedal and tie them to the bike. And push very carefully to the S-Bahn. Off we go to Kelsterbach, where the boxes end up in the cellar with the helpful Warmshowers.

Next to us, the touring cyclists Chris and John set up their tents for one night. Unmistakably, the two are from the USA. From Oklahoma City. They were amazed when they spotted the Route 66 sticker on my bike. The Mother Road took us through her hometown. In 2016 we spent a long weekend there with the German emigrant and touring cyclist Moni. Moving to another campsite? Makes no sense. Our place is clean and familiar, with a bakery and supermarket nearby. And Michael is happy that he could help us. Another farewell that you would like to postpone. But just when everything becomes familiar, it's time to go.

We cycle to the Warmshowers Berit and Micha in Kelsterbach. First we pack our bikes. The front wheel has to come out of my bike. Release the pedals and turn the handlebars. Glue the box shut, label it, done. Werner's bike requires a little more tinkering. After two hours everything is done. Micha competes with every baker with his home-baked bread. Simply delicious. We immediately feel at home with both of them. We get cling film and repack our bags. Two lowrider bags become hand luggage. The other bags and stuff sacks are distributed into four Ikea bags. The next evening a large taxi takes us to the check-in the evening before. On site we wrap the Ikea bags in cling film. We are asked twice by other passengers whether we are a wrapping service station. Good business idea, but not suitable for us right now. At check-in we were praised for the good preparation of our luggage. Dimensions, weight and packaging are correct. There were unpleasant discussions before us. We can also get rid of the wheels easily. Please, please bikes and luggage. Arrive with us in Mexico.

That evening we discussed being on the road and politics for a long time with Berit and Micha. And we really hope that we can accommodate them both here on the Baltic Sea. Next year, of course. To continue our conversation about God and the world and Mexico.