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Published: June 26th 2017
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Geo: 51.2946, 3.19956
I am always amazed how parts of your body that normally keep themselves to themselves can suddenly become the focal point of your attention!! Just like teeth, you don't notice them until they hurt. Well that is the same with the old " pink cycling cushion" if you know what I mean......
Up and staggering at 0700hrs. As usual, I am in charge of coffee production. No more miserable instant for us on holiday these days ...we have invested in the full the full kit worthy of a "Barista" in Rio de Janeiro. Concerned about waking our fellow guests, I have muffled our coffee grinder with a towel but it still sounds like a chain saw in the Yukon as I grind the beans over our bathroom sink!
Disappointment! We arrive at breakfast and Lore our hostess greets us looking like Helen of Troy shortly before the Trojan Wars. I am about to offer my services to help bring in the harvest when I spot a figure lurking in the background..... a sort of Damien Lewis lookalike with a bit of Jean Claude Van Damme thrown in.........! He must of arrived early this morning me thinks....then the depressing truth sinks in....
TODAY
WE PEDAL TO SLUIS IN HOLLAND. A 48.km round trip. Setting off at 1030 we whizz through fields of corn on the cob, canals and cattle. The odd rustic farmhouse appears from time to time and occasionally we see a windmill in the distance. Kilometre after Kilometre......we push on........following the little green numbered route signs. Cycle route 22 becomes route 56 after 3k and then we turn right down the broad tree lined canal on route 24 for another 5k and so on and so on. We are frequently overtaken by pensioners and small children. So what! All the time we are dogged by a dull ache that demands you stop the bike and get off for a few minutes to recover feeling!
Eventually we arrive at Sluis, a pretty Dutch town with a fairy tale church, windmill and excellent shops. Cathy at once disappears into the Dutch equivalent of Robert Dyas and after a few minutes comes rushing out proudly waving a "silicon padded saddle cover". This is the answer she excitedly squeaks! OK!....... I agree and a second one is purchased. To be frank, our posteriors are already pounded to a pulp and the damage is too far
gone. The beneficial effects of the padded seats covers are mild to insignificant but we convince ourselves they were worth the 7 euros each!
Now for the return leg. Only another 24.3km to go. We bump into a pneumatic lycra clad maiden at a DIY hand wound ferry crossing over a canal. A very pleasant young lady reminiscent of a tele-tubby wrapped in cling film but I suspect more than capable of kick starting a 747 and cracking walnuts with her thighs! Fortified by these thoughts, I summon up the strength to head for home.
Only 15km to go we say cheerily to each other as we consume the last cheese and pork loin roll. Eventually, we see our little church tower on the horizon and home is really a reality. A large G & T beckons and the thoughts of dinner start to pre-occupy our thoughts.
Lore is impressed with our efforts and she already has planned another 50km ride to the coast tomorrow. Who am I to admit defeat..........
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