As is clear from the “Blog dates,” this is not a real-time effort.  A European bike trip takes 100% of my energy.  Days are filled with riding, socializing, taking a few pictures, and the activities of daily living – all done in a dynamic and unfamiliar environment.  Writing requires reflection and edits…

Below are memories – enhanced and modified by a return to a more quiet space.

Paris – Sophistication and Simplicity.

After an easy high-speed train ride from Amsterdam to Paris (passing Van Gogh’s fields of complex colors), we arrived at our home for the next two weeks: the Zwaantje.  And, our twenty two fellow bike companions.

We had a bit of time to configure each bike with our own pedals and saddle.  And, a quick spin around the dock along the Seine – at the Quai du Bercy.  “Yes,” I thought, “a sturdy Dutch bike.”  “Not as light and nimble as my own bike, but should be OK.”  Little did I understand how vital a sturdy bike would be on varied terrain: from cobblestones in historic cities to single-track paths through national forests.

The next morning we started our daily routine on our canal-sized barge:

• Breakfast at 8:00 am (lovely, despite a tiny kitchen);
• The start of a ride (~50 kilometers);
• Dinner at 6:30 pm (astonishingly cordon bleu, despite a tiny kitchen)

We could have started with a comfortable ride along the Seine.  However, there was a rowing competition that Sunday.  So, we were relegated to the cobblestone path with the joggers, the strollers, and the dogs.  (Dogs and bicycles do not always mix well…)

Soon we were riding through the posh suburbs of Paris.  As usual, building mutual support among the riders.  “Watch out for the dog.”  “Mind the steel post that prohibits car traffic…”

In an urban area that is constantly undergoing renewal, there are often Construction Zone road surfaces: gravel, potholes, narrow passageways… And, dogs.  Consequently, a few minor falls, but no serious injuries.

Yes, it is possible to bike past the Eiffel Tower.

Yes, it is possible to bike past the corporate headquarters of Louis Vuitton.

A short day of about 30 kilometers – and, back to our floating home before the serious rain began.   A glass of wine and the camaraderie of shared experiences.

Beyond Paris – Simplicity and Extravagance.

Part of a bike trip is, of course, riding bicycles.  Part is an effort to understand and appreciate another part of the world and unique perspectives.  Our next day began in Auvers-sur-Oise.  It is the small French town where Vincent Van Gogh did his final paintings – where he formed his last perspectives.

Note: bike folks do walk occasionally.  So, before our ride, we walked up the hill from the river to a church and a cemetery.

What would the church in the town where Van Gogh spent his last years look like to a camera?

What would that same church near the asylum where Van Gogh spent his last years look like to an inspired artist?

 

And, nearby – the resting place of Vincent Van Gogh and his brother.

His poignant efforts to refine – constantly – his vision, his technique, and his perceptions enabled Van Gogh to leave a legacy that will inform the visual arts for millennia. His two dimensional world will inform my sense of experienced reality for the rest of my life.

He kept asking the question that we all need to ask: “Who am I, really?”

 

From artistic vision and the simplicity of a small town, we rode to a French marvel of vision and extravagance: the horse museum and the castle of Chantilly.

From the library to the private chapel, a work of centuries of development (and, of course, re-development) has evolved from the 16th Century.  Much of the vision is from Bourbon-Condé.  Gracious architecture, elaborate gardens (it helps to hire the former gardener of Louis XIV), and a celebration of the skills and knowledge of the nobility: horsemanship.

Not a bad spot to escape the tour’s most serious rain storm.  A lunch time deluge.

Time to admire a Renaissance library of great depth and breadth.

Time to admire a personal chapel of great beauty and reverence.

A few more kilometers and time for wine and stories.

 

 

 

Adjusting

One of the thrills of international travel is jet lag: adjusting to a time zone shifted by 6 hours. One way to prepare for two weeks of bike rides (30 miles / day) without complete exhaustion is to start a few days early.

And, if cheaper airline tickets are available in a nearby city (with high speed train travel to Paris) – why not depart a few days before and visit the most bike friendly city in the world: Amsterdam?

And, what do to in Amsterdam but book a tour with MIKE’S BIKE TOURS?

With only mild exhaustion – and, a slight chance for reasonable weather, off we went.   A delightful time.

One of the advantages of bicycle travel is that it is possible to have a delightful experience in an unknown city with unique traffic conventions – and, intermittent rain.

With an experienced tour guide, exploration becomes a street level view of a European city.  Newness itself is inspirational: it helps us see traditional realities from a unique perspective.  Of course, delightful people are vital.  Our spirited tour guide (an Amsterdam native) with boundless energy, extensive knowledge of the city, a enchanting goth appearance, and an effusive sense of humor, was a catalyst for receptivity to a vibrant culture.

Part of the culture – and, a solution to intermittent rain – was to stop for a break near the end of the tour, as the drizzle increased to honest-to-goodness rain.  At 11:30 am, I would usually pick coffee as a good beverage for a rain delay.   But, in the Netherlands, real bikers opt for a Kopstootje, a shot of Genever (Dutch version of gin with juniper berries and spices), washed down with a glass of beer, and (to cushion the stomach) a hard-boiled egg.

…when in Rome…

Amsterdam’s culture includes a population of 800,000+ people – and, 800,000+ bikes.  Old, new, well cared for, rusty and worn…  Single speed, old fashioned, new fangled…  A cacophony of two-wheeled vehicles – and, adept riders.  Only an adept rider could zip through complex traffic patterns while texting – and, survive.

It helps to have a city designed and largely built before the age of the automobile.  It helps to have real city planning.  It helps to have land which is extremely valuable.  Nonetheless, it is astonishing to see a vibrant city where the primary modes of transportation are public transport and bike.

It would be a formidable stretch for most US cities to change from “bike as recreation” to “bicycle as transportation” – an integral part of getting to school and to work.

Or, just to become a destination for happy tourists.

Beyond the Bike

Although It is wonderful to explore the world where bicycles are an integral aspect of life, European travel presents a world of experiences where art and history are always in evidence.

So, for Joy and for me, the Anne Frank House and the Van Gogh Museum were essential destinations in Amsterdam.

Anne Frank House

Compared to the Roman ruins visible from a bike in much of France, in contrast to the soaring gothic churches of a millennium ago, the horror of the Holocaust is recent.  My father served in Europe in World War II.  My work in Washington, DC enabled two visits to the US Holocaust Memorial Museum.

The visceral experience of a single family – a sensitive young woman with ambition, insight and charm, and her father (the sole survivor of the concentration camps) – should penetrate the collective soul of all mankind.  And, the enormity of the millions who died – all unique people with unique gifts to offer the world – should prevent future atrocities.

We humans are capable of extremes of both compassion and destruction.  The Anne Frank House images and significance – both extreme intolerance and sacrificial service – were a constant echo as our bike rides in France and Belgium unfolded during the next two weeks.

Vincent Van Gogh

Vincent Van Gogh’s visionary service to humanity was the underlying vision that I took from our visit to the Amsterdam museum that celebrates his extensive work.  In his short life he experimented with a path into the clergy – and, he strenuously labored to find new techniques to portray the inner realities of his unique visual world.  His collaborative work with other artists of his day showed a level of collaboration that seems frequent in the work of our best innovators.  His transition into a mental institution did not diminish the flow of his evocative sketches and canvases.  Only later, when we cycled past the fields that he painted, and when we visited his grave in Auvers-sur-Oise, would the majesty of his vision start to become fully evident.