Nirvana’s anthem for a rebellious grunge generation; Smells like Teen Spirit, was actually named after the popular deodorant “Teen Spirit” and inadvertently sent sales of both to record numbers, smells a little fishy. I was told that most people in the Netherlands smell the same because everybody seems to enjoy wearing Christian Dior Sauvage a spicy unisex perfume with a unique nutmeg aroma.

Cycling in the warm, wet, fecund Dutch countryside we are enveloped in a translucent fairy floss fog; heavy with rustic rural bouquets of English oak, sweet cherry wood, hazel and elderflower .

Hawthorn bushes and blueberries are coming into flower by the paths’ verge, while the farmland, which runs right up to the road, is groaning with pears, apples, strawberries and the vegetable of the moment: White asparagus, sold at roadside stalls everywhere across the south of the country .

Spring essences of moist air, clouds, water, cattle dung, grass and soil mix with freshly cut hay before rising up to mingle with the wildflowers.

Smell triggers memories and I’m reminded of those Dutch Speculaas biscuits, moulded into the shape of windmills, tasting of cinnamon, cloves, coriander and empire. Coming from a time when the Dutch East India Company ruled the world.

We enjoy happy encounters with the Dutch people wherever we go.

In Lagedijk we camped in the garden of new friends Tanya and Maarten. At Beneden- Leeuwen we had brunch with Lois a 75 year old experienced touring cyclist who said ‘I always travel alone, I like it that way’.

Near the village of Baarlo, in torrential rain, we took shelter with four other cyclists. We shared tea, noodles and the camaraderie of the road until the tempest passed.

There’s been flooding in the Low Countries and while the tent hasn’t been dry in 10 days, we remain in good spirits making progress into Germany.