A truly spectacular prang

Day one of cycling was very pleasant but uneventful. We cycled through the Dutch countryside which is indeed quite beautiful but  - unlike last year – has no windmills.

This is because it is very close to the Belgian border and is not below sea level like large parts of the Netherlands (which of course literally means low countries). 

We were riding Gazelle electric bikes which sounds like fun but they are actually difficult to get used to as they weigh 25 kilos and – having a high centre of gravity – are inherently unstable.

PK – who is an engineer – says it is the worst designed thing he has ever seen but he has forgotten about Tony Abbott who almost disproves the theory of evolution.

They have a number of settings including Eco – which is the lowest – and you actually needed to use this constantly to make up for the weight of the bike. We all used this most of the time and I often went to ‘Boost’ on hills as I felt most of the time like I was riding a dead Wombat.

We all nearly crashed in the first hour or so. Gwenyth went one step further and crashed head first into the weeds at the side of the road. She said that at low speeds her bike developed a ‘death wobble’ which made it uncontrollable.

The next day the death wobble claimed Gwenyth and she pranged spectacularly when she was coming too slowly through a set of poles. She did herself a number of injuries – broke her sunglasses – destroyed her T Shirt and lost a lot of skin. 

Unfortunately we had only gone about 10k and still needed to do another 30k to get to the boat. Gwenyth did this slowly and painfully and finally limped home bloodied and beaten.

Captain Mart showed immediate and immense concern.

He rushed out to examine his bike and spent some time fondling it and shaking his head sadly.

This ruined his entire day – if not his life – and some of the spark went out of him.

He did offer to subsequently call an ambulance to take Gwenyth to hospital but his heart wasn’t in it.

We were gradually learning about Captain Mart and Miss Elly’s proclivities for rearranging cabins, personal effects and underwear - and were becoming used to finding things moved about when we returned from cycling. 

Next: Gwenyth investigates the Dutch health system and what Captain Mart has for breakfast. 

More rules

Gwenyth discovered another unwritten rule when she went to breakfast early. We were told that breakfast was at 8:00 and when she arrived at 7:45 she asked if she could have some Muesli.

‘We wait’ said Captain Mart and indeed the other passengers – six Germans – obviously knew the rules as they arrived early but stood around until precisely 8:00 when they sat down and started eating.

It was – as they say – a ‘European breakfast’. This consists mainly  of bread, cheese and cold meat. There was no evidence of the advertised toast. Despite living in Europe I have never been able to do a European breakfast so usually had a slice of bread or – if there was one – a bread roll.

There was usually an added delicacy. On day 1 it was a boiled egg (one each) and on another day we were each given two very small, very hard and very cold croissants.

The coffee was the worst I have ever tasted – and that is a big call. It was made in a very large pot and was possibly allowed to boil overnight.

There was an Espresso machine which we discovered was for the use of Captain Mart and Miss Elly -  but was also used to make one small cup each (and one only) for the passengers when they had afternoon tea after cycling.

PK broke a rule by asking for a beer for afternoon tea but was rebuffed. Beer time is apparently after dinner.

The boat was advertised as air conditioned – and indeed it was – in the sense that there was an air conditioning system fitted with controls in each cabin.

We tried to use this one night but after we had fallen asleep Captain Mart banged on our door – burst in and turned it off – shouting ‘you have your heating on!’ We did not try that again.

By far our worst transgression was that PK and I broken a written rule and brought alcohol on board. Well we could hardly go anywhere without Jameson Whiskey.

We each had a small glass on Jammies on deck and were sprung by Captain Mart who gave us a severe talking to and went on with some fatuous crap about how the customs people knew about every drink he had on board and he would be fined if they found anything else.

Actually he just wanted us to drink the burnt horse piss that he called alcohol and which he sold at exorbitant prices. And we did – to a point – but PK and I usually retired to our cabins for a nightcap of Jammies.

There is much more – but to go on about it would be to labour the point.

Notwithstanding the boat we had a wonderful time – except that Gwenyth fell off her bike on day 2 – went down like a sack of potatoes - and could not cycle again. More of that later.

A unique experience

We had a very relaxing few days in Ireland where PK embarked on a quest to drink a Guinness in every Pub we found.  More of this later.

As I am now back in Vienna I feel that I can safely report on our bike and barge trip without the danger of being pursued and beaten senseless by Captain Mart – our host, guide and enforcer.

Captain Mart graduated from the Al Qaeda school of hospitality management for Infidels and has some unique views on the host/guest relationship. 

We had trouble getting a taxi in Maastricht  so were ‘late’ reporting on board the Miro. This prompted the first of many remonstrations by the Captain who – we discovered – had many and varied rules and regulations.  Most of these remained unknown to us until we transgressed.  

The next step was to be herded into a cabin and given an immense number of instructions about what we could and could not do in them. It was mainly could not – and while we vainly tried to keep up with the barrage of information -much of it just whizzed by – hence our subsequent and frequent infractions and the incurring of demerit points.

The information included such minutiae as the need for us to put all of our shoes away so that they did not clutter up the (his) floor. He did not – at that stage – mention his fetish with toilet bags.

Finally the harangue finished and we thought ‘ah – time for the advertised welcome glass of champagne’ but no – now it was time to be instructed about the bikes – and this was much more complicated than the cabins.

You would be – and we were – amazed at how many things can apparently happen to a bike unless it is under armed guard and we were left in no doubt that the most important things on the trip were, in order, Captain Mart, Miss Elly (his spouse) the barge and the ten bikes.

We came stone motherless last then and subsequently.

By the time the lecture finished we knew the cost – and difficulty of replacing – every part of the bike. I was terrified that there was going to be a test but he figured that just scaring the shit out of us was punishment enough.

We did not get the champagne – and then things started to go downhill.

To be continued

I can already tell that you think I am exaggerating. If you do then read this – and if only we had read it before we went on the trip.