July 25, 2026
A few miles cycling south to catch the train at Zaandam. Challenging to get on the train (1), but we eventually reached Den Helder (2). Ferries cross the short inlet to Texel every half-hour and have lots of bike space.
Opting to ride on the eastern shore of the island, the seaside paths offered sweeping views of the Waddenzee. De Corksdorp, about 15 miles north of the ferry terminal, offered restaurants and a nice vibe. A little further on at North Cape, the ferry to Vlieland departed from an informal "temporary" dock (3) in the thick sand while a wedding happened on the beach on this Saturday afternoon.
After crossing the narrow channel (and entering Friesland province), the boat pulled up to an improbable jetty that made our embarkation point look permanent by comparison. Miles of sand dunes were all that could be seen. As the rickety jetty shimmied in the mild waves and the passengers held their swaying bikes, a dune bus with big wheels appeared (4). The bikes were all slowly loaded on as the jetty danced.
Setting out the driver told us the dunes on the southern half of Vlieland are a NATO bombing range (5). Fortuitously, we had booked the hotel in the middle of the island to which the dune bus goes (6).
In the late-day light, we rode 5 miles to town for dinner on this beautiful island with few cars; the scenery made the journey to get here worthwhile. Riding back in the twilight (upwind to the southwest) was aided by the rising gibbous moon sparkling on the sea as we ended 30 miles of cycling today.
(1) Cycling infrastructure and passenger rail infrastructure are both excellent in the Netherlands. The interface between the two is dreadful, as the locals we talked with throughout this trip bemoaned. The limited spaces on the trains reserved for bikes are about a foot too short (b) and have no attachment points. "They want you to pay to rent bikes at the station," went one theory.
(b) In Denmark (in contrast), the last car of most trains is reserved for bikes with copious space for dozens of bikes and racks to hold them all. We had anticipated something similar in the Netherlands, with more bikes than people
(2) The first train was too crowded for more people, let alone 4 bikes. We split up for the next train, which had more railcars. Trying to get on the last railcar, the conductor whistled us off. Rushing to the middle bike car (a), I hopped into the car, but the door closed on my wife. The conductor soon appeared sternly telling me to get off at the next stop and "ride your bike to Den Helder" (> 40 miles) even though we had paid an extra €10 each to bring the bikes on board. A cyclist from London had also been told to get off the train at an earlier stop ("I just ignored her.") I got off, hopped the next train going partway, and eventually joined my wife on the third train going to Den Helder. We chatted with a Belgian family of four with three bikes and a trailer for their youngest who had waited four trains to push their way on. Our friends had caught the front car of the second train, saying they had paid to bring their bikes while boarding and waiting for us at Den Helder.
(a) Railcars accommodating bikes have a bike painted on the door.
(3) The wooden jetty presumably shifts with the evolving sandy shoals.
(4) When booking the ferry, we had read about the dune bus, which was included in the price, but did not quite understand the process until we got there.
(5) "Don't worry, they can see the bus, they don't bomb on the weekends, and I know where the unexplored bombs are," the driver said drily.
(6) Simple self check in: two (real) keys in an envelope with ny name on it.
No comments:
Post a Comment