Day 1 – Tickhill to Hull (Ferry)
The group assembled at TCC with a mix of nerves, excitement, and overly-ambitious bikepacking setups. At 10am sharp ish, we rolled out — a peloton of hope heading for the continent. The first leg took us via Gringley, through Gainsborough, and on to Kirton in Lindsey, where the paninis were enormous and the croque monsieurs (locally call croissant monsieur) were devoured at pace. Note: not ideal fuel when there’s a hill immediately after lunch.
Reinvigorated and slightly bloated, we pedalled onward on scenic, quiet lanes and took a brief break at the Tile Works before crossing the mighty Humber Bridge, which was the first time for some of the group, spirits soared… until we couldn’t find the ferry terminal.
There followed a comedy of errors: we could see the ferry, but we were slightly misplaced! Eventually, with a bit of retracing and some cursing, we checked in. The harbour master escorted us aboard as they didn’t want cyclist mixing with lorry’s and cars. But it did feel like we were VIPs (or just visibly confused), and we cycled up two brutal ramps to the car deck.
Cabin life was tight. Four adults, one small space, and everyone racing to use the shower or to the bar.
Day 2 – Rotterdam to Amsterdam
It was raining.
The kind of rain that makes you question your life choices and the absorbency of your socks.
Leaving the ferry was delayed by a biker swarm returning from the Isle of Man TT. We got in the wrong passport queue, briefly argued with a Dutch motorcyclist (who claimed moral superiority while doing the exact same thing), and Brexit may or may not have come up but we all left friends.
Our route took us through beautiful scenery once we had left the industry of Europort (note, next time go to the Hook of Holland). We took refuge in Basserie De Schie, where kind staff gave us rugs to sit on to warm up and protect their chairs and more croque monsieurs. (Yes, again. This was becoming a theme.)
Eventually, with spirits raised and socks less damp, we made it to Amsterdam via Delft and The Hague — thanks to Pete and Martin’s expert navigation
Accommodation that night was a youth hostel/hotel hybrid, complete with a moment of panic when we were told our bikes might have to sleep outside. Several faces turned white. Fortunately, space was found indoors — cue collective sighs of relief and more early bedtimes. Party animals, we are not.
Day 3 – Amsterdam to Rotterdam
Spoiler alert: still raining!
Also: hail, gales with fleeting sunshine that gave false hope.
After a group photo by the canals (proof we were actually in Amsterdam), we set off southwest — directly into a savage headwind. Thankfully, we had Pete the Human Windbreak, apart when he was chasing down Dutch cycle groups after giving them a bit of a head start.
First café stop was at 33 miles:
Dorpshuis De Juffrouw, near Hazerswoude-Dorp. They weren’t officially open, but took pity on eight cold, damp Brits and served us normal brownies, apple tart, and hot drinks. Angels in disguise.
Fuelled by sugar and goodwill, we pushed on. The cycle paths in Holland continued to impress — weaving through peaceful villages, lush nature reserves,
Our second café oasis came at 52 miles:
Het Park in Rotterdam. We sat outside watching a wedding party assembled inside. Fingers crossed they stayed dry
Then came the final push to the Europort — with another four-mile ferry tease diversion expertly navigated by Martin, At Europort we said farewell to Martin Bowdler, who rode off heroically to Bruges to meet his wife before continuing toward Paris over the coming days. After a savage 11% ramp to reach the car deck. It was… character-building and time to rest.
Pete and Jenny, clearly travel upgrade pros, bagged a window cabin. The rest squished into their cabins designed for 2.
Day 4 – Hull to Tickhill
It was dry! Cue whoops of joy and slightly overconfident average speeds.
We made brisk progress out of Hull, through housing estates and building sites whilst not up to Dutch standards the cycle lanes were an excellent way of getting out of the city, and they also lacked the Dutch charm, but hey, it wasn’t raining, so no complaints. We flew towards Howden, taking on some long climbs and glorious descents, including one just before North Cave where speeds topped 35mph.
That’s when Kevin’s bike decided to liven things up — wobble, bang, flapping luggage, and a rear wheel doing its best impression of a Pringle. A broken spoke, a dodgy rack, and a hasty repair job later (involving tie wraps and electrical tape — as all great repairs do), Kevin was back on the road.
After an impromptu coffee stop in North Cave where tie wraps and Velcro where used again to secure Kevin’s kit on to Pete’s bike ensuring no further damage to Kevin’s rear wheel enabling all of us to finish the ride together.
Lunch at the California Garden Centre Café was an absolute win — top-tier food and scones and jacket potatoes the size of helmets.
The final stretch took us through Finningley, Rossington, and then back to the warm embrace of TCC — where a small but mighty welcoming committee cheered us home.
⸻
Takeaways From the Tour
• You don’t need a fresh cycling kit every day (but it helps for café posing).
• Cable ties and electrical tape can fix almost anything.
• Always laugh, especially when soaked.
• Heavy-duty chamois cream is your best friend.
• Take Pete and Martin. Always.
• Ferry cabins are not designed for four grown adults.
• Croque monsieur is the new energy gel.
• 300+ miles. 8 bikes. 1 puncture. Not bad!
⸻
Too many moments, too many laughs, too many croques to fit into one report…
This trip needs a full Netflix mini-series. Or at least a pub night with photos and a slide projector.
