If you were born in the Netherlands you cycle period.
It is said that every Dutchman owns three bicycles at least.
For me the bicycle has been the main way of transport as I never owned a driving licence, except for a moped, but even this licence, when it was stolen from me in Surinam I never took the trouble of renewing it when it had expired.
Until I was twenty I did many camping trips in Holland France England Belgium and Germany and always on bicycle.
For me nothing surpasses the feeling of freedom when cycling alone, everything I need packed neatly on my bike, tent stove and the lot and I’m free to roam wherever I like.
When I finally retired from paycheck to paycheck slavery, I decided to cycle to one of my dream locations, Crete where I had been before on numerous vacation.
Looking down through the airplane window I had watched the changing landscapes, the rolling hills of southern Germany, the daunting Alps, the flatlands of the Po river valley and I had promised myself that one day I would be cycling there instead of flying over it while packed with my fellow travellers as sardines in a tin (no oil fortunately).
And so i did.