Europe's Longest Certified Bike Path: A Journey of Discovery and Controversy
The Rhine Cycle Route: A 1,450km (900-mile) adventure from the North Sea to the Swiss Alps, offering a unique blend of history, culture, and natural beauty. But is it worth the hype?
Here's the catch: transporting a bicycle across Europe is a logistical nightmare, as I discovered when planning a cycling trip with a friend. So, I embarked on a solo mission, riding from the Hook of Holland to the river's source in the Alps.
The Rhine Cycle Route, or EV15, is a revelation. It's part of the ambitious EuroVelo network, aiming to connect Europe with 99,000km of cycling paths by 2030. The Rhine route is a milestone: mostly car-free, meticulously marked, and welcoming to all, from Lycra-clad enthusiasts to families on e-bikes.
Imagine gliding along the Rhine's banks, soaking in the rich history and romance of a landscape fought over since Roman times. But there's more: Dutch polders, the Alsace Wine Route, historic bridges, the Rhine Falls, and the river's official source in the Swiss Alps.
I set off with a light load, two bags, and Lycra attire, opting for speed over comfort with my road bike's skinny tires. With only 10 days, I aimed for 145km daily, staying in hotels and hostels. Little did I know that e-bikes would make this journey a breeze for many.
The Netherlands, a cycling haven since the 1970s, was my starting point. Wide cycle tracks led me to Rotterdam, where I joined e-bike riders for a smooth ride. But the road rules were a challenge, a stark contrast to the UK's Dutch-inspired roundabouts.
The journey's physical demands became apparent quickly. On the first night, I arrived exhausted at a hotel near Dordrecht, only to find a lively wedding party. The receptionist assured me it would end early, and I was asleep by 10 pm.
The Rhine's complexity in the Netherlands is fascinating. It splits into multiple branches, forming a delta. I crossed the Waal by ferry and rode along intricate dykes, protecting the land from the sea.
On day two, I reached Germany, enjoying a traditional meal at a Stammtisch. I ventured off the official route, exploring deserted fields and the Roman site of Xanten, with its amphitheatre and medieval connections.
As I pushed on, the allure of slow travel faded. The EV15 route often led me down questionable paths, and navigation was tricky. I questioned the appeal of cycling when driving might be more efficient.
But then, a turning point. The Lorelei, a cliff with a medieval siren legend, captivated me. Turner's famous watercolour immortalized it, and I was eager to experience its magic. Leaving the summer crowds, I pedaled on, embracing the journey's unpredictability.
The road offered intense encounters. A racer let me draft behind him for hours, and I found refuge in a nunnery during a storm. Sister Angeline shared her community's struggles, seeking new members.
Time constraints prevented a detour to the Alsace Wine Route, but Basel's cafe culture was a welcome break. I witnessed a unique Swiss tradition: people floating downstream in fish-shaped waterproof bags.
The stretch towards Lake Constance is a hidden gem. Wooden bridges, like something from a fairy tale, span the Rhine, with the longest at Bad Sackingen. Stein-am-Rhein, a medieval town with half-timbered houses and mythical facades, deserves more attention.
The final twist: as I reached the Swiss Alps, the language shifted to Romansh, a descendant of Latin. My Latin skills failed me, but the journey's linguistic and cultural diversity was remarkable.
And this is the part most people miss: the Rhine Cycle Route is not just a physical challenge but a cultural immersion, offering a unique perspective on Europe's history and diversity.
But here's where it gets controversial: is the EV15 route truly accessible to all, or is it a niche adventure for the determined few? What's your take on this cycling odyssey? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
