Fanta Orange

In Germany, on my way to Oldenburg, I was sat at a picnic bench at a roadside rest stop for passing traffic, writing in my diary, when a car pulled up near me. Out climbed an elderly woman who spoke to me in Dutch. I asked "Engels?", and she said "Ah, OK, yes, but i thought you were one of the crazy Dutchmen, with your Orange bike." We talked a while, about her son who had cycled in Sweden, and about my trip, and then she said "But i have something for you" ("But of course you might not like it" added her husband, who had joined us) and she headed back to the car. She returned and handed me a bottle of Fanta Orange and said that she had felt them all, and that this one was the coldest. She said it was because of my Orange bike.
They left, and said that they hoped my Orange bike would bring me luck, and that of course it would.