Day 30: Elburg to Gouda | 117km
28 June 2026
The biggest thunderstorm I’ve ever experienced lit up our tent what felt like every minute throughout the night. A few times, I awoke to feel the ground shaking from a nearby lightning strike, though luckily not too close. It poured, but I didn’t mind. The thunder and the biblical rain meant the heatwave that had gripped this part of the continent and made the last two days of riding almost unbearable was finally easing up. Cooler winds swept through the tent, and I relished the breeze.
Our strategy for today remained the same: hit the road early to avoid the peak afternoon heat. We rolled through Elburg in the morning, a picturesque small town that looked like it was plucked from a medieval fairytale. Orange flags and banners with “Holland” hung above the main street, but the city had not yet woken up. We continued our journey along the Netherlands’ incredible network of bike paths. In some sections, we were able to stay in the shade as we meandered through woods. On others, we followed the coast and canals where shade was nowhere to be found. It was the first time in three days that people could actually enjoy the warm weather. Since it was a Sunday, and many were likely on summer holidays, the paths were alive with activity, perhaps the most cyclists I’ve seen in a day since starting the trip. Groups of friends or racing buddies passed us on their sleek carbon fiber road bikes, and I couldn’t help but look down at my chunky steel gravel bike, Rust, loaded with all his bags, and feel a little sorry for him. Maybe parts of Rust wanted to be raced too, but I’ve always felt he was built to cross continents and those sleek frames would’ve buckled under the same pressure. He’s been a steady companion so far, and it took over 3,000 km for me to get my first flat tire. That wasn’t the bike’s fault, though, but rather a large stick that had broken off a tree during last night’s thunderstorm and was left on the ground to cause accidents.
Utrecht is one of those cities I’ve only heard good things about, and quickly after arriving, I could see why. The streets were filled with life. The crooked houses along the canals were perfectly restored or preserved, and families, couples, and groups of friends were out on boats, paddleboarding, or lounging in the sun. It was also the perfect number of people out in the city. Enough to make it feel lively and keep businesses and restaurants happy, but not so many that you had to wait in lines or risk bumping into anyone.
Irene and I went to a diner called Eetcafé de Poort Utrecht on the recommendation of a friend. We ordered the chef’s special for the day, which turned out to be a Philly cheesesteak. I haven’t had one since moving out of Philly in 2019, so it was an easy choice. We stayed at the restaurant for almost four hours, enjoying the meal, drinking coffee, and devouring a slice of apple pie (no, not a whole pie). Just like I experienced in Zwolle yesterday, I would have loved to stay much longer because we only got to see the tip of the iceberg of what Utrecht had to offer.
With 35 km left to cover for the day, we took another lap around the city center for both mental and physical photos, then continued southwest toward Gouda (yes, like the cheese) and a countryside campsite. There are cows grazing just outside, and some sort of feud between rival duck families that may or may not keep me up a while longer.