Day 14: The day when everything was different

Today began differently from all the other days. The time was the same, the tiredness the same, the morning rush familiar – and yet there was something in the air that made everything feel a little different. We packed our things in our usual chaotic way, loaded the bikes as quickly as possible, and finally set off – tired, but determined. While the world around us went through its everyday routines, a quiet melancholy lingered – the silent knowledge that this adventure was coming to an end.

By 10 a.m., all twelve bikes stood ready to go. Four fewer than when we had started the journey, and eleven fewer than we were supposed to be. A strange, bittersweet feeling spread through the group as we made our final preparations.

The ride itself was a play of effort and ease. We climbed the last hill, crossed the last river, and listened one final time to the Strudel Song. With short breaks here and there, a tumble into a ditch or two, and a longer rest in the middle, we kept moving steadily toward Stade. The 30 kilometers of the day flew by, as if the bikes themselves sensed how close we were to our goal. Just after crossing into Stade, “The Final Countdown” began to play on repeat – an epic soundtrack for an arrival long overdue.

At our destination, a small, charming café in Stade, we were warmly welcomed by classmates who had either not joined the ride or had to leave earlier. Lively conversations sparked instantly, laughter filling the room. After a few minutes to settle in and a quick restroom break, we celebrated our 528.5 kilometers with cake, hot chocolate, waffles, and ice cream. The cake slices were enormous, the cocoa perfectly warm, the waffles freshly baked, and the ice cream wonderfully refreshing. Coffee drinkers savored their cups, while others treated themselves to chicken breast with potatoes, béchamel sauce, peas, and carrots.

Between crumbs of cake and cards on the table, our conversations were both lively and deep. We recalled tough stretches, laughed at little mishaps, and spoke of the moments that had bonded us together. And of course, another round of Doppelkopf was played – almost a ritual that crowned the journey.

Looking back, each of us had faced personal struggles and limits. There were days when everything felt overwhelming, and moments we’d rather forget. But in the end, only one thing mattered: we had done it together. We had ridden the 528.5 kilometers from Rotterdam to Stade. For me, it was not only a challenge, but also an adventure full of unforgettable memories – an experience I will carry with me, and one I would repeat without hesitation.