Day 1{ may 26th 2002 }
“Sweet little thing ”
The day of days... I head off! But it is not the feeling I feel that I had anticipated. How come? The weather is not really co-operating as well. I pay a tribute to an old farm and some unpleasant stuff happens at the end of the afternoon.
“A trip of a 1000 kilometers starts with just a few meters.” I leave home at 10 o’clock with mixed vibes. When the Condor is saddled up, I notice that the weight is considerably more than I had anticipated. Hmmm...better check the tire-pressure. Grey clouds are driven across the sky when I close the doors behind me. A few pots and pans remain on the stove, waiting for the inevitable fungus, but I don’t care. A one-track mind is what I have from now on (damn, have to visit the toilet once more. I’m nervous...).
Ok.......alrighty then........this will be it. It will happen...(drumming fingers on the table...silence) Marcel... IT WILL HAPPEN! And yet...it doesn’t feel like it. For so many years, the plan has been slumbering in my head and this is all I feel? Oh well, let’s get it over with... (what a mentality to start with...).
“...a village somewhere near Rome”
Cycling to Maastricht is rather boring. Valkenswaard -> Borkel/Schaft -> Achel etc.
Basically, it’s one straight road all the way south. Have done this so often. But there is one difference; it will
take a long time before my recumbent heads north again.
A strong head-wind and an overcast sky unsuccesfully try to break down my mood for over 30 miles whilst cycling alongside the canal.
Warmly dressed and in a reclined position, I don’t mind that much. My frontal exposure is small, so I’m not bothered by the wind.
When I stop for a break at a cafe somewhere along the canal, I talk to a middle-aged german cyclist, who complains about ‘zie mennie
tourists on zeir baicyculs ’ in this area. Euhmm...dude, take a look at yourself.
The waitress looks at my gear and inquires after my final destination. She smiles when I answer; “a village somewhere near Rome”.
In the vicinity of Kasen (the place where I lived during my study in Maastricht), the clouds start to cry.
This has a negative effect on my mood.
But this display of natural sadness is quickly followed by patches of blue sky and
(surprise surprise) the sun himself, which revives my postiveness, which I have to guard carefully. There is no one to cheer you up
‘inside’ when you cycle solo. My achillis heel. Be careful.
In the village itself, I pay a last tribute to ‘the farm’, an old,
weathered (and vandalised) building were I lived for 3 years with other students. It has seen many summers, but this year might be the last one; it’s sold.
“...a kid bumps into my recumbent”
When I have dinner at Mc Donalds around 5 in Maastricht, a kid bumps into my recumbent, which tips over. Slightly pissed off, I charge at my bicycle, and carefully dismount all the bags first. The mother of the child wants to give me a hand, but I politely reject (with clenched teeth...).
“...sweet little thing”
I decide to go a bit further than Maastricht, some 10 kilometers, and after a short steep hill, I pitch my
tent at a camping in Beemelen. The woman who checks me in is far from friendly. But she will not spoil my mood!
Old bag...
My tent is the only one on the terrain. Well, it will be the first night in my ‘canvas bungalow’.
I feel like an upper-class bum...
And then, after 2 hours, I notice that my windstopper has disappeard! You stupid **** ! I get angry with myself; it
also contains my keys of the front door and my bicycle-lock. Plus my ‘McGuyver tape’. Flash-back; I stuck it between
my panniers and my top-bag. Must have fallen off! Worried, I cycle all the way back to McDonalds, looking out for
an orange object somewhere along the road.
Nothing.
This can’t be happening... I head back to Beemelen. Disappointed. But guess what I see when I have two km’s to
go to the camping? My jacket, and it’s in the gutter! Because of the rain, it is completely filthy. Fortunately, a car
hasn’t driven over it. No holes, no torn material.
That evening, I take a shower with my windstopper. Lady luck is smiling at me... That sweet little thing.
