After a splendid breakfast at The Bilderburg, we rode the short distance to The Market Garden Museum at The Hartenstein in Oosterbeek, West of Arnhem: the headquarters, hospital and, effectively, centre of the shrinking perimeter held for 9 days by the British 1st Airborne Division North of the Neder-Rijn against overwhelming enemy forces, before their retreat to the South bank on 25 September. The museum is exceptionally well-laid out and tells the story of the operation skilfully, faithfully and in impressive detail. The audio-visual displays, comprising news-reel footage of the battles fought in the area, are particularly compelling. One aspect of the story told is the close bond that has remained between the residents of the town and the soldiers who fought there. Each year, in September, there is an annual commemorative ceremony in the cemetery there. I would expect that, as in Normandy, it will be well worth a visit this year for those interested in the fight to liberate Europe in 1944 and 1945.
There was some light rain as we left Oosterbeek and followed the river to Arnhem, and onwards West / Northwest to the border just south of Enschede. The sun broke out around midday and it remained fine and bright for the rest of the trip across Gelderland. What can I say about the journey? It was The Netherlands – Dutch: lots of peaceful, beautiful (flat) countryside, interspersed with small, neat, ordered villages, and populated by forthright, polite people going about their business with little fuss.
We spent the night at a Spa retreat just two miles from the border, where we were too late to eat inside, as the waitress was making up the restaurant for Breakfast, but were amply fed on the terrace outside. Having had beef-burgers on the last two nights, I decided to vary my diet by opting for a chicken burger: which was enormous and probably more calorie-laden than a deep-fried Big Mac. It was delicious. The General had “Chef’s Spare Ribs”, which had so much to spare that they were hanging over the side of his plate. The pile of bones at the end of his repast suggested they too were satisfactory. We retired early, fatigued, but sated.
Today we have journeyed West to Osnabruck. An equally pleasant and benign day, after a bit of early rain, and across pretty, but slightly more undulating countryside. German drivers have, so far, been just as sympathetic and respectful of two ageing, un-svelte, moderately-paced cyclists as the Dutch, although the cycle paths are sometimes only separated from the main carriageway by a white line, and sometimes disappear altogether.
Tomorrow, we have altered our schedule and will be stopping about 35 miles short of Bergen, where we will spend the following night, visiting the concentration camp museum on the way.
The Trick Cyclist 