{"id":161402,"date":"2017-09-29T09:24:18","date_gmt":"2017-09-29T09:24:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.welovecycling.com\/wide\/?p=161402"},"modified":"2017-09-29T09:25:19","modified_gmt":"2017-09-29T09:25:19","slug":"travelling-world-hera-van-willick-never-left","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.welovecycling.com\/wide\/2017\/09\/29\/travelling-world-hera-van-willick-never-left\/","title":{"rendered":"Travelling the World with Hera van Willick: As If I Never Left"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>It\u2019s only been two weeks since I got on my new bicycle in Tilburg to head south. First into Belgium, then France, England and Wales. By now I\u2019ve arrived to Fishguard, my last stop before getting on the ferry to Ireland. Only two weeks and I\u2019ve seen and experienced so much and met so many people. How did I do that, putting two weeks of bike travel into one blog?<\/strong><!--more--><\/p>\n<p>Let\u2019s start at the beginning. On September 13 I woke up in Tilburg while the wind was blowing fiercely around the house. Rain came and went but it was mainly the strong winds that made it unpleasant to go out. Nonetheless I packed my new Ortliebs on the bike and put on my bike shorts hoping that would tempt the sun to come out and play.<br \/>\nMy mum and me got on our bikes, heads into the wind.<\/p>\n<p>https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/p\/BZEw2TuABiP\/?hl=cs&#038;taken-by=heravanwillick<\/p>\n<p>We reached the town square in Turnhout, our traditional place to say goodbyes, at 33km after almost 3 hours of riding. I had planned to visit the company that provided me with extensive new clothing by Sportful and deliver some cake and then carry on to a friend of mine in Mechelen to spend the evening and night. It re-appeared to me that bike travel and ambitious tight planning don\u2019t go very well together, specially not when there are gusts of 75km\/h predicted. I gave in and decided to hop on a train to cover a part of the route that day so I could still make the visits as planned.<\/p>\n<p>Not a great way to start an ambitious bicycle trip.<\/p>\n<p>That feeling disappeared quickly when I arrived at my friend&#8217;s house and we sat down on some comfy Indian pillows, still pretty tired from fighting the storm, sharing a great meal and getting beaten at a game of chess. I refreshed my memory about how great a shower feels after an intense bikeride that leaves you cold and sweaty with your jacket sticking to your skin.<\/p>\n<p>A wonderful way to start a beautiful bicycle trip.<\/p>\n<div id='gallery-1' class='gallery galleryid-161402 gallery-columns-2 gallery-size-large'><figure class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<div class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000083.webp'><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000083.webp\" class=\"attachment-large size-large\" alt=\"\" srcset=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000083.webp 1024w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000083-300x200.webp 300w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000083-768x512.webp 768w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000083-272x182.webp 272w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/div><\/figure><figure class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<div class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P9140034.webp'><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P9140034.webp\" class=\"attachment-large size-large\" alt=\"\" srcset=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P9140034.webp 1024w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P9140034-300x200.webp 300w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P9140034-768x512.webp 768w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P9140034-272x182.webp 272w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/div><\/figure>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\n<p>I got to Dunkerque within three days time and the next day I saw the white cliffs of Dover appear at the horizon. England! The vigorous winds had calmed and as I got off the boat in Dover I could start my riding in a t-shirt. That evening I ate a sober pasta without sauce, hoping that the routine of what goes where in my panniers and always having some food to cook would soon come back.<\/p>\n<p>I cycled along the south coast of England enjoying the mainly dry weather and even bits of sunshine. Very different from what I had prepared to find myself in. Through Facebook I had received a few invitations from people who follow my trip and live in England. One of them was sort of on my way and I was happy to accept the invitation which resulted in a great meeting with a fellow bike fanatic and his family.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P9150050.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-161421\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P9150050.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1024\" height=\"576\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000104.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-161419\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000104.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"2666\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>The next day I cycled to Portsmouth from where I took the ferry to the Isle of Wight, a 20 by 20km diamond shaped island with about 150.000 inhabitants. I was a guest with Mark who lives on an old boat in the harbor of Newport. In the evening I joined him for a Scottish dance class, where I lowered the average age by about 30 years. The passionate and undoubtedly talented teacher in kilt was struggling to keep his balance standing on one foot and I could hardly understand a word of his instructions but nonetheless he kept the pace in which we were expected to pick up the new routines very high. Halfway the evening I was the first to give up and sink down on a chair on the sideline, rapidly gratefully followed by some older ladies.<\/p>\n<p>During my \u2018rest\u2019day we went around the island by bus and foot and I ate fresh fish &amp; chips as the sea wind blew my hair in my face.<\/p>\n<div id='gallery-2' class='gallery galleryid-161402 gallery-columns-2 gallery-size-large'><figure class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<div class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000145.webp'><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"769\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000145.webp\" class=\"attachment-large size-large\" alt=\"\" srcset=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000145.webp 1024w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000145-300x225.webp 300w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000145-768x577.webp 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/div><\/figure><figure class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<div class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000140.webp'><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"769\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000140.webp\" class=\"attachment-large size-large\" alt=\"\" srcset=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000140.webp 1024w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000140-300x225.webp 300w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000140-768x577.webp 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/div><\/figure>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\n<p>In the days that followed I cycled north towards Gloucester (pronounced Gl\u00f2stuh, not Glouwchester, I was taught). England has an extensive cycling route network. I followed bits of different routes. The intensity of the routes, I was told, should be based on what a teenage girl with an average condition would be able to cycle comfortably. I\u2019ve humped and bumped over rocks, pushed my bike through mud and up ascents of 20% and plowed through high grass. Sometimes guided by signs, sometimes relying on Google Maps. I got annoyed at times but I mostly enjoyed it thoroughly. I\u2019ve only had to ride on main roads for some kilometers a few times. For the biggest part I was riding tracks and narrow quiet roads through fields and villages.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000167.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-161413\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000167.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1024\" height=\"769\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>Before getting to Wales I had done quite a bit of climbing on the bike, but now the real work was about to start. I wanted to cross the National Park \u2018Brecon Beacons\u2018. WarmShowers hosts had assured me that it would be easier to wild camp there. Still 95% of the time I was surrounded by farmland and therefor I ended up camping in meadows after asking the farmer for permission. Interesting to see how their response differed from the responses I got in eastern Europe at the time, where I was always invited for a meal and sometimes even to sleep inside. Here they just wished me \u2018a good evening\u2019. Though just as I turned around the lady farmer told me: \u2018Just pop over to the house if you need anything!\u2019<\/p>\n<div id='gallery-3' class='gallery galleryid-161402 gallery-columns-2 gallery-size-large'><figure class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<div class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000222.webp'><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"769\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000222.webp\" class=\"attachment-large size-large\" alt=\"\" srcset=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000222.webp 1024w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000222-300x225.webp 300w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000222-768x577.webp 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/div><\/figure><figure class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<div class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000206.webp'><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"769\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000206.webp\" class=\"attachment-large size-large\" alt=\"\" srcset=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000206.webp 1024w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000206-300x225.webp 300w, https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000206-768x577.webp 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/div><\/figure>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000203.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-161408\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000203.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1024\" height=\"576\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>After an intense last day to Fishguard I accepted the invitation to come to a pub where live folk music would be played. Men and women sat in a circle with varying instruments, mainly strings, some flutes, accordions and harmonicas. They played and sang folksongs from Wales and Ireland, joining in with whoever started a tune. It was a great experience to get an insight into a community where people meet up to make music together every Tuesday night, some already for over 20 years.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000225.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-161404\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P1000225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"4030\" height=\"3026\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<blockquote class=\"secondary-quote\"><p>He knows he\u2019s handsome, strong and rugged, now I have to tame him and teach him to follow my lead.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>So, we\u2019ve been on the road for two weeks now, my new bicycle and me. A monster, is what both I and some other cycling enthusiasts have called him. And he is! A good 35 kilos of baggage and me to carry, no problem, he\u2019s still stable like a motorbike. Rocks and bumps, he rolls on smoothly. No ascent or descent is too steep, no road is too bad and now load too heavy\u2026 but he sometimes forgets who\u2019s in the saddle, who\u2019s his engine and has to keep him on track. A little woman that weighs just about the same as him and his packs. So we\u2019ve crashed twice now, nothing big, a lack of technique on my side, getting used to this stallion. He knows he\u2019s handsome, strong and rugged, now I have to tame him and teach him to follow my lead.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P9160062.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-161403\" src=\"https:\/\/d2p6e6u75xmxt8.cloudfront.net\/2\/2017\/09\/P9160062.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1024\" height=\"731\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<blockquote class=\"secondary-quote\"><p>There is no place where I am as vulnerable and strong at the same time as on my bicycle.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>Tomorrow we\u2019re taking the ferry to Ireland. The winds blow fiercely and the rain drips down the windows. Autumn is here, undeniable. I\u2019ll enjoy the comfort of a bed tonight, cause it seems there aren\u2019t too many coming up in the weeks to come.<br \/>\nMy journey has started again.<\/p>\n<p>While I was listening to some podcasts and music yesterday, while riding, tears came into my eyes several times, and as I reached the top of yet another climb they rolled down my cheeks for a moment. The stories and lyrics touched me deeply. There is no place where I am as vulnerable and strong at the same time as on my bicycle.<\/p>\n<p>After 2,5 months at home base I\u2019m on my way again. It feels as if I never left.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>It\u2019s only been two weeks since I got on my new bicycle in Tilburg to head south. First into Belgium, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":12,"featured_media":161425,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4142],"tags":[460,1248],"global-categories":[],"class_list":["post-161402","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-ride2unite","tag-hera-van-willick","tag-travelling-with-a-bike"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.3 (Yoast SEO v25.9) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Travelling the World with Hera van Willick: As If I Never Left - \u0160koda We Love Cycling<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"It\u2019s only been two weeks since I got on my new bicycle in Tilburg to head south. First into Belgium, then France, England and Wales. By now I\u2019ve arrived\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.welovecycling.com\/wide\/2017\/09\/29\/travelling-world-hera-van-willick-never-left\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Travelling the World with Hera van Willick: As If I Never Left\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"It\u2019s only been two weeks since I got on my new bicycle in Tilburg to head south. First into Belgium, then France, England and Wales. 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