No I don't think it's nice or safe to keep having to get on and off the proper roads to use bits of unjoined-up cycle facilities here and there. Roads are nice. It's (too many of) the motorists who are not nice.
"Go Dutch" is disgustingly defeatist, in my view. We've got superbly wide and smooth paths to cycle on already. They're called roads.
That isn't 'Going Dutch'. Going Dutch implies smooth, wide, cycle underpasses at major junctions, two way cycle lanes running for miles, uninterrupted, alongside major roads (& on both sides!). Fragments of unjoined-up cycle lane aren't what I used to encounter when I lived in the Netherlands. I cycled to work most days. The first stretch was on streets - with no segregation. Then I hit a main road, which took me five miles in a stream of other cyclists, on a cycle path as wide as a minor road (& there was another one on the other side of the road), with an underpass under the ring road & its own traffic lights at other junction, to a cycle & pedestrian entrance leading straight off that cycle path into my place of work, where the cycle parking was plentiful & conveniently placed.
Cycling into the city centre, the facilities were less lavish. But in the grid of unsegregated one-way old minor streets, there were contra-flow cycle lanes, marked by signs & a different pattern of cobbles (no worries about paint wearing off!), & wherever there was room, cycle paths. Quiet routes between major points of interest were marked.
If I wanted to get in or out of the city without cycling next to a main road, I could follow numerous other quiet routes, a mix of streets & paths, which ended up in country lanes. These routes linked up with each other & the main road parallel routes, & with the right maps (sold widely - very easy to find) I could cross the country from north to south, east to west, on them, meandering or the shortest route, as I preferred.
As far as I could discover, the only roads I was not supposed to use were the fast main roads - and there was always a convenient alternative. Often this was a cycle road (they were too wide to be called paths) alongside the motor road. Sometimes there was an alternative route signposted along lesser (but still good) roads, or even a cycle road separate from, not alongside, the trunk road. On all other roads, there were cyclists.
This is in a country which is more densely populated than England (much more than the UK!), & I was living in the most densely populated region of it. I cycled around the region. I could follow cycle signs pointing to towns tens of kilometres away, knowing that I'd not be squeezing around bollards or posts in the middle of one metre wide glass-strewn overgrown lumpy paths, but smooth roads often wide enough for two cars to pass, but either car-free or with only local motor traffic and a speed limit that fast cyclists could & sometimes did break.
Either you don't understand what it would really mean to Go Dutch, or you're reacting to a policy which is called Going Dutch but in reality is a watered-down piss-poor pale shadow of what really Going Dutch would mean.