There are signs along the road around Wijk bij Duurstede. Don't want motorcyclists to make noise? The message is clear: if we do, the beautiful steering roads will be locked. Own fault. Too Loud Sound is Off. That is why this TankTas Tour has been designed in such a way that we avoid bottlenecks as much as possible. Away from Dijk and Dorp.

The water boards, fighting and taming the water wolf together, formed the Netherlands. The oldest documented example in which a water management project was carried out in a partnership of local communities is the damming of the Kromme Rijn near Wijk bij Duurstede in 1120. That town is therefore an ideal starting and finishing point for our Tussen de Rivierenroute.

The large rivers have traditionally formed a natural border in the landscape, on average 25 kilometers wide and 150 kilometers long. For the Roman Empire, these rivers formed the northern border, called limes. The Romans wanted to conquer the territories of the Batavians, but that plan failed. This is how they got stuck, including wooden lookout towers and fruit trees brought in from the sunny south, on the river through which the water now flows, towards the sea.

The Romans had packed their bags, heading for the sunny south, leaving behind their fruit trees that still make up the wealth of the country Between the Rivers, the Betuwe: cherries, strawberries, apples and pears. The ship of Rederij Ton Paulus ('no pin, cash only, sir!'), which puts man and motor across the Lek, is called Spes Fortuna. Isn't that Latin for Hope and Happiness? The Kanaalweg along the Princess Marijke locks in the Amsterdam-Rhine Canal offers a lush natural setting that would not look out of place in the Amazon forest. What high trees there are, real giants compared to the fruit trees below. Further on, the landscape becomes more familiarly Dutch: fruit plantations and pollard willows in the Betuwe farmland. Storks show off on their nests and on lanterns above the road. So keep your visor closed.

The Haagweg meanders through empty farmland. The cows and fruit trees here can hardly take offense to such a motorcyclist. Here and there the route zigzags briefly over a provincial road, then it dives again into more rural paths. House-high hedges, neatly clipped straight, should keep out prying eyes, or potential fruit thieves, or just the wind. Here, outside the usual dike routes, the Land Over de Rivieren is an astonishingly beautiful world, with not a single chicken on the road. Here and there a sleepy village, such as Ingen. The Waaiweg winds the motor up a bit of the Rijnbanddijk, which is allowed here, high above the country. Then quickly right, into a rugged-looking floodplain landscape, where clubs of trees stand in the water up to their ankles. Or is it their knees?
The chimney of a brick factory smokes between the trees, a white mill just historically stands out beautifully in the green. After the water treatment plant we still have to get over the next river dry. The Prince Willem Alexander Bridge just falls short of the Salazar Bridge in Lisbon. But it is a nice piece of infrastructure over a surprisingly wide Waal River after the Lek.

On the other side, on the other bank, the pattern continues effortlessly. As soon as signs point to crowds, the route turns the other way, following narrow country roads lined with tall trees. Thanks for the shade and away from the traffic on the horizon. Speed bumps are really a rarity here. Pump stations and eateries by the way. A warned motorcyclist leaves with a full tank and 12 hours on board with a tank bag, top case or backpack. Only at Appeltern do signs of our organized society appear again. Barriers regulate the entrance and exit of the Gardens of Appeltern, including the tea garden, Pannekoekenhuis 't Sprookjeshof glides past. And there looms the encampment around the water recreation events of Moeke Mooren and the Gouden Ham. The Romans would have to scratch their skulls at the sight of all those vessels and chalets neatly lined up. Have those ferocious, indomitable Batavians learned manners after all?

Always heading south. Now you still have to cross the Maas. This is possible without a bridge thanks to the ferry between Ooijen and Alphen, or vice versa, if you drive from south to north. 'Welcome to Brabant' reads on a sign along the dike road. The Oijense Benedendijk has slipped nicely into this route after all. There is a lot to enjoy, quietly and gently, in the bends on the high dike road. What a feast that we can just drive here, without angry local residents with smokers and flails on the road. For such a large agricultural machine we are of course happy to go to the roadside, a raised hand is our thanks. No middle finger. That's another way to do it. Another ferry brings man and motor over the Maas back to Gelderland, from there via Rome (yes, yes!) to the north again, over the Waal and finally the Lek again. And there the city wall of Wijk bij Duurstede looms again. This Beer Wall has been protecting Wijk bij Duurstede for centuries against water wolves and enemies who were after our creamy white cheeses. Wicked Spaniards, Habsburgs, Frenchmen and the Vikings, whose fault it is that Dorestad fell into disrepair, is how people still grumble in dark harbor bars under the dike. That is allowed, as long as they keep motorcyclists out of it.