Something strange must have happened that night: I distinctly remember being in a bar in Amersfoort town square but then the world started to go in and out of focus. Perhaps it was aliens trying out mind control techniques, or maybe even die-hard Russian spies trying out new remote methods of brain-washing, but whatever it was, my grip on reality diminished alarmingly as the evening progressed. I tried to drink more beer to see if that would help but no, whatever was causing my problem was too powerful and, despite my best efforts to fight it, eventually I lost all conscious connection with planet Earth.
The next morning I awoke around 10:00 on Ivo’s sofa. How I got there remains a mystery to this day. One thing I can say for definite though is that, whatever had seized control of my mind the previous evening had caused some lasting damage to my head, which seemed to be not altogether connected to my body, and ached rather terribly.
Ivo seemed unconcerned by my trauma and simply got ready for work, made me a coffee and left.
I gradually pulled myself together and around 1pm felt strong enough to try a quick spin on the bike.
Escaping from the car park proved interesting – with no ticket I couldn’t make the barrier go up and, as there was no attendant in the little booth, I had no choice other than to sneak out without paying. This obviously broke my heart, but I bore it manfully. Having to go out past the end of the ‘in’ barrier (there was no gap on the ‘out’ one, diverted my attention as I had to try and avoid the constant stream of cars entering the park.
Once out on the road, I spotted a sign for Amsterdam and decided that it would be almost a crime not to pay the city a quick visit.
Riding the bike on the Dutch motorway effectively blew away the last of the side effects of the night before and I was soon enjoying myself in a manner suitable for someone touring the continent in summer.
Amsterdam proved to be a very attractive city. I didn’t have time to do it justice but did manage a walk around the centre. I even found a quaint, ‘olde worlde’ cafe where they wouldn’t sell me a coffee unless I bought some odd-looking green tobacco to smoke first. Fully appreciating the dangers of smoking I declined and moved on to somewhere more tolerant of the non-smoking community.
The ride back to Amersfoort was skilfully designed to coincide with rush-hour and necessitated around 15 miles of constant ‘filtering’ between rows of slow-moving traffic. This is always a mix of fun, selfish pleasure at passing all the drivers trapped in the jams, and tension as you concentrate on trying to spot the enterprising driver who wants to nip into the next lane just as you’re passing. Consequently I was quite relieved when I made it back to Amersfoort in one piece and, after only one previous rehearsal, snuck the bike back into the car park without picking up a ticket like a hardened pro.
The evening was spent productively, eating Chinese food and drinking Dutch lager – this time though, the aliens did not try to take control of my mind and I, therefore, didn’t have to drink as much beer to try and fight them off.
Next morning, after a quick coffee, it was time to leave. My stay in Ivo-Land had been great fun, but far too short. It had been good to catch up with my old biking buddy from Kerewan, and it was a shame we couldn’t repeat some of our more heroic African two-wheeled expoits on Dutch territory. I promised to return in the future though, when we both had a bit more time and he’d saved up to buy a bike.
In true Ivo style, he’s rather blown that dream out of the water by moving to Dakar yesterday – you can’t trust some people. Still, that sounds like a cue for a rather more adventurous holiday! Fingers crossed …
Hi Andrew, I went to Carbrooke for some training a few weeks ago on Clicker and the staff were great, friendly etc and told me about your travels and gave me your blog details, I don’t know maybe I’ll consider VSO if I am not in a job after Easter. If I do think about it I’ll stand you a drink or supper and you can tell me all about it. Good to know you are enjoying yourself, Sheila.