As we'd arrived so late in Someren last night we started a bit later, about 9am.
On the roll out towards Weert, and after about 10km, something went pop in my left knee. Painfully pop, like being flicked hard with an elastic band. (Soprano, at you'd look at it, it was at about 1pm on the outer aspect of the left patella). Over the next few miles it did it three more times, just on the beginning of the downstroke. Eek! I stopped, massaged it, did some stretching and rubbed in a goodly amount of painkiller cream. Started off again and it happened twice more within five miles. Stopped again and decided to raise the saddle by 1cm (I'd had a feeling that it was a tad too low) Did another 50miles: not a twinge. I think a ligament must've popped out of its tract. An effective bio mechanical solution. I think it's gone. Fingers crossed.
Cycled along for a while with a Belgium guy called Harold. Every day he cycles from his home in Belgium and has, in his words, a 'special coffee' in a town called Echt. We decided to join him. It was called a Segafredo (Italian) and, whilst I'll not describe it here, was indeed rather special. It was kind of a coffee gourmande (as opposed to a cafe gourmand). (Something to consider for our new cafe.)
Harold directed us to a cycle shop where I bought some new cycling gloves and Jackie bought some new cycling sunglasses. Harold, a 48 year old meat inspector, told us that we must stay tonight in a town called Brunnsum. (We'd never heard of it.) About 30Km south. So we took his advice (he was right about the coffee) and set off for there. But Brunssum was a dump. A new featureless town. Much like Yate, but without a Wetherspoons.
Harold, what were you thinking about?
So we pushed on to (fairly random place) Stolberg.
We have now crossed the border into Germany. Cycling in Holland is a great experience. Whenever a road is built they build two side by side. One for cars. One for bikes. Where they, inevitably cross at roundabouts, the bikes have right of way so you can speed straight across. In the cities there is always a designated lane for the bikes.
Hardly any Dutch wear helmets. Babies on baby seats are also unprotected.
Dutch gardens are intriguing (to me at least). They are just full of box trees and various conifers that have been shaped with precision. Some small, some huge. Every garden is a variation on that theme. See photos.
Back to Stolberg...
Stolberg gained its wealth as a centre of brass production in the 12th c. but lost its importance as a brass producer when pure zinc became available in the middle of the 19th century. The town is still in decline now. Quite a ghost town. We looked for a place to eat, using my adage 'follow the crowds '. We found a Greek, two Italian, a Grillhaus, and a few hotel restos. But all were totaly empty at 9pm. We opted on the end for an empty Chinese and had the set meal for about £12/head. Surprisingly good.
We'll be glad to move on. To where? We seem to have lost the Rhine for now. So east it is, maybe to Bonn.