Kuss Mein Kluten.

Day 11, Thursday, Herselt Belgium, 12^th May.

Kuss Mein Kluten.

Eight hours sent in the car was not what I had expected. Belgian roads have few signs and are very bumpy and unkempt. There are speed bumps everywhere and zebra crossings criss crossed over the country like little hot cross buns on every corner. Very confusing and hard to tow a caravan around.

When we finally found a campsite, after driving through Brussels, not something I would ever recommend or want to do again and after diversion after diversion and stopping to ask directions at least seven times. There was no reception so had to go to the bar and as my phone woudnt call the number they gave us, thankfully a lady called the campsite owner to come and assist. At first the assistance seems unhelpful, I am guided up a very steep and skinny hill which neither me nor Vincent could make, so we were taken to another spot among the static caravans. The site owner and another man with very oily hands, now smothered all over the caravan help us to park the caravan on the sloped ground, Gerald is now not looking his best and the oily man returns to his caravan never to be seen again. The campsite is expensive at 17 euro a night, I have to use the men’s loo’s  and the cost of a shower is on top of the basic fee. Arg. We had already decided to use the onboard shower and expressed our shock at the price of the site. However, I have managed to agree that the price is set per day so we can stay until the sun goes down tomorrow, at about 9pm. So will get a good 12 hours for our money. The site manager, Luke, must have felt a bit sorry for us as he invited us for a beer at the bar which we indulged in as soon as we got the chance. The bar is on site, on arrival, after sharing a bottle of wine and some croissants for tea Luke bought us a Duval, shortly followed by a very strong Belgian beer, Brigand before he left. As we sat in the bar chatting to the locals, well, the barman and his wife and another man, it felt great this was what travelling was about. They were interested in us, and us in them. Another beer later and we met a cat, Gizmo, and learnt a new phrase, Kuss mein Kluten, which means kiss my balls. Apparently its al about the balls in Belgium. Saskia, owner of Gizmo, played us a song by Will Tura called I am Superman in my Caravan, they called us real hippies and we had a great time. It felt good to socialise with people and learn about their lives and just get drunk in a bar. They have asked Bob to come back to the bar and play tomorrow in the bar, I think he feels a little scared, but we shall see. We also learnt that you can fish with mice! spelt maise, and is actually sweetcorn, thank goodness and that Henry who works in the bar learnt English from TV.

Tomorrow we plan to go to Brussels, which we drove through earlier and caused us much stress, but as long as the Brigand wears off I think we should be able to make it on the train,

Bon nuit, x.