We were rushing for the border. Day 3 and we were crossing from The Netherlands into Germany. And yet, our Dutch friends never ceased to amaze us. This museum sign is literally in the middle of nowhere on some back country road. Since of our hurry we never did get to check it out. Lucky for me, the internet let me have a second chance. PS, my friend biked all the way to Budapest, this being his only faux injury. No poles with museum signs were harmed during the taking of the picture.
The crash museum website:
Third day on our bicycles in the Netherlands. We had stayed at a friendly army base with some really awesome people in Ede. Our bike legs were finally starting to ache a bit. Hills and Germany were just around the corner. My bike had issues the day before, so we went into town to the only bike shop. Lucky for me it was run by Steve-O from Jackass’s nephew. Unlucky for me, he accidentally popped by perfectly pristine tube with an exaggerated hand gesture. Lucky for me again, he had an even better one to replace it with. Unlucky for a fellow rider of mine that we did NOT have Vla on the menu for breakfast tomorrow. His lucklessness, was my luckiness. Lush trees, marching soldiers with bazookas, the perfect bike path and signs. A start to a wonderful day of riding.
Our first day of riding in the Netherlands was a piece of Stroopfwafel. The 50k, flat, well laid out, well marked, beautiful and cute bike networks of this great bike nation led me and my Global Agent cohorts through cobble streets, draw bridges and windmills to the mini-Amsterdam, Utrecht. Sam, our couch surfing host, was busy that evening. His girlfriend, was not. She took us into town and here, we sit, at a floating bar on an Utrechtian canal, sipping sweet aromatic beers, making miniature paper cranes to be flicked into the night shiny waters below up to be toyed with by some speckled fowl that paddles by.
P.S. for more information on Stroopwafels please check out rikomatic’s enjoyable description of “How to Eat A Stroopwafel”: