I'd been in Germany so long I'd forgotten how much of a pain it is changing country. Suddenly all the signs change and you end up on something called the Flamingo Route.
It seemed to be taking me vaguely in the right direction, but the reassuring R1 marks were gone.
After a while I realised why they didn't bother marking the route: everything is a cycle path. Even the main roads have marked off sections or paths running alongside them.
I later found out I was meant to be following the LP4, but as it didn't connect with Germany's R1 it wasn't immediately obvious.
The general bad weather has continued so it made sense to hammer it along to Arnhem.
My knowledge of the Netherlands outside Amsterdam is pretty sketchy. If you commit genocide you'll probably end up in The Hague and there are windmills, tulips and clogs. There genuinely are still windmills, despite my idle stereotyping.
Arnhem is one of the biggest cities and has a bit of an atmosphere to it. At first it looked pretty ghetto, but developed into a box standard town centre with all the usual chains.
Behind that, though, there is a series of alleyways, which look pretty alternative and are probably quite lively.
Then it started pouring again so I climbed the mountain back to the hostel.
No comments:
Post a Comment