Day 2 { may 27th 2002 }
“Doubts... ”
Entering foreign land... Mr. Sunshine is showing-off and unexpected helping hands at the right moment, on the right spot. A sorry-looking place to stay the night, and the inevitable ‘cycling-blues’ kicks in (already ?).
At around half past 9, I head south once more. I cycle further and further into the south-limburg hilly landscape. This is the last part of the route I checked by car about a year ago. Now the journey will truly commence!. Having cycled for about 30 km’s, I stop to get some water and food out of my panniers. To my horror, I notice all of a sudden that the rear derailler-cable is about to snap!
“...what have I done to you to deserve this?”
No panic. I do have a spare one. Takes a while to get the inner cable through the outer one because it’s a bit raffled.
At last! But...this one is just a few centimeters too short. I curse myself. The nearest bicycle shop is about 5 km’s away.
And I am surrounded by hills, woods and the occasional farm. Isn’t that just great... I look up to the sky and think; “what have
I done to you to deserve this?”.
Just when I’m about to hide my bags in the bushes (no way I will tote those with me on foot), and already have chained my Condor to a
wooden gate, a small white RV (Recreational Vehicle) appears. I give it a try (nothing ventures, nothing gained..) and stop them.
Ten minutes later, my bags are in the car and my Condor is strapped to a bicycle carrier at the back.
The friendly couple from Nijmegen bring me to Teuven (about 3 miles further on).
“...what a mess!”
A brand new derailler-cable (and a brake-cable) is purchased from a 70-year old man in an equally old looking shop.
What a mess! And he has stored enough gass-bottles outside to get a feature on CNN should something happen. Alongside the road, opposite the store, I fix my bike, and I’m ready to rumble once more! All this took me about an hour and a half.
Anyway, what luck... Is someone smiling at me up there in the clouds?
Well...I have been a very good boy for months :). The landscape is rather demanding for someone who is not trained and is toting around 25 kilo’s of luggage with him. It’s bloody warm as well. Fortunately, the blue sky cheers me up.
“...the place is so shabby and sad looking”
My map indicates a camping in a small deserted looking village called Walhorn later on in the afternoon. I’m tired and sweaty and hungry; a lethal combination. It’s a small camping. Very small and well camouflaged next to a fast-food shack which must have been abandoned during the last war... I will never forget the looks of the camping... The sanitary facilities are constructed in a sorry looking shed, and have been recently given ‘a new lease of life’. Mind you, by the campers themselves. One of them, a retired german mechanic confides me that because of a family dispute, the present owners don’t even think about investing a penny. Well, it is all so shabby and sad looking that I decide not to take a shower and go straight to bed, although it is relatively early. What else can I do? A depression kicks in. What on earth am I doing? I feel sorry for myself. Go to sleep...things will be different tomorrow.
