Sampling Belgian Beers on bikes

Day 14, Sunday, Herselt, 15^th May.

Sampling Belgian Beer on Bikes.

Francis was hanging around the caravan this morning. It is wet and the underwear I washed and hung out yesterday is even wetter that it was just washed. It was not bike riding weather, so to begin the day I cut myself a fringe again after growing my last one out for the past six months and Bob cleaned the bathroom. Living in a caravan is harder when its raining. Everything gets dirty as soon as its cleaned and if you don’t want to get soaking you are confined to a twelve foot by seven foot tin can. The rain continued to be intermittent for what seemed like forever. Fringe cut, bathroom clean and toast eaten, we set off anyway on the bikes. After about a mile, Bobs karma knee kicked in and we had to swap bikes. I can’t help but feel that I always get the soggy end of the cucumber, its not that I don’t love Mini (the bike) but she is hard to cycle on those small wheels, and Bob can now cycle even faster! The Belgians are great at cycle paths, you get right of way at roundabouts, your own traffic lights at junctions and they are better maintained than the roads. After about half an hour of jolly pedalling we end up right where we began! How? We set off again, I was keen to find the pace we passed through yesterday and also quite determined. We reached Herselt, and as rain loomed, we stopped off at a bar to sample some Belgian beer. Bob had a dark Leffe and I had a Palm, “a sweet one” as the barman had described it. So now we have sampled five of the about three hundred beers, quite good going I think.

Back on the road we realised we were on the right road to Westmearbeak, the place we wanted to reach. We pass the amazing dilapidated manor house with greenhouse attached, the caravan in the woods on the side of the road and then stopped off at a fishing/Sunday lunch bistro for another beer. All of the sights I had noticed yesterday had now been found. The beers this time we Le Chouff and Primus, Le Chouff being twice the price of Primus so think I know what will be the beer option in the future. Cycling around you see cabbages and strawberries growing everywhere, the houses are still lego like, but there are some nice buildings interspersed amongst the semi modern, semi plastic surroundings. Bob had decided that he wanted a bbq. So the search for bbq-able foods began. As soon as we realised it was past 6pm on a Sunday we knew that the bbq was going to have to wait for another day.

Back at the quiet campsite I make Bobs favourite, Lasagne, to make up for the lack of bbq, and after enjoying some wine and letting my aching legs rest, (I am sure we cycled 7-10 miles today, Bob thinks we cycled about 5) I brought in the still wet washing and hung it above the fire to avoid Bob being pant-less for another day.

Tomorrow we move on to Venlo, don’t know if we will make it, and I really don’t mind,

Goodnight, x.

Bumpy bumpy bumpy roads.

Day 13, Saturday, Herselt, 14^th May.

Bumpy bumpy bumpy roads.

We woke this morning feeling like crap. Either too much sleep or not enough? Groggy. We decided to hit the road to Venlo, although not all of the way in one trip, my 3 hour rule was definitely in place. After 3 hours we would stop.

 4 ½ hours later, after driving on the most frustrating roads ever, bumpy, potholed, diversion after diversion, well not even diversions, just piles of sand in the middle of the road, one not one, but three of the roads we wanted to follow.

Stressed, not knowing where we were and hungry we found a campsite we had spotted on the map, it was by a river so I had taken a liking to it. It appeared closed, and when reading the sign, it would have been too expensive at 20 euro a night so we wouldn’t have stayed there anyway. Another fifteen minutes away and over some more bumps and into some more potholes we reached another campsite. Yippeee, at 12.50 euro a night it seemed cheap! Although it isn’t really. A nice site though, old fashioned and relaxed, there was a rabbit, who we named Francis who seemed wild and trusting, and many dogs of all different sizes camping with their owners.

There also appears to be a resident British couple in a tiny caravan with many canvas out houses. On returning from the shower the man of the couple, in his sixties with long grey hair was oil painting and listening to opera, he waved as I went by. I want to photograph him, maybe tomorrow?

I decided to make a proper tea, so made pasta with wine and courgettes and garlic bread. Yummy. Then it was laundry time as Bob has been pant-less for at least two days. It is not drip drying in the cold evening. It is much colder in Belgium than in France. It isn’t as pretty, the towns remind me of lego land and the streets lack signs, and then there is the bumpy, bumpy, bumpy roads. I have already lost 3 tea cups and a teapot to these roads, je suis un appy. I would like to like Belgium more, but the stresses of getting around I think are tainting my thoughts. The Belgians are extra friendly though which makes up for the frustration of being on the road here. Tomorrow we are going to cycle and explore some of the surrounding area we drove through earlier in the day, it looked quite interesting and quirky, and and un-plastic.

Goodnight Francis, goodnight Bob, x.

Offered a spliff

Day 12, Friday, Brussels, 13^th May.

Offered a spliff.

With hangovers definitely caused by the mix of Belgian beers last night  we had a lazy morning, and after breakfast in bed we read the hand drawn map, made by us by Luke, the campsite owner, to guide us to the train station. The parking was really confusing, there was nowhere to pay, no signs but cars parked all over the place some with tickets, some without. A lady tried to help us and stopped a man on a bike who told us to follow him to a free parking space, Brilliant! And how very friendly indeed. The train to Brussels was vintage and I absolutely loved it. Dark green leather seats with overhead storage in our carriage, dark blue leather in others. It was spacious and lovely.

On arrival in Brussels, within about one minuet we were invited for a spliff. Eager to get on with our day and see the city, we rejected and headed to the Grand Square. I never expected Brussels to be so touristy, there are artists selling silly portraits of yourself back to you, groups of Japanese and Americans with cameras pointing to the sky, street musicians towering over people drinking coffee and post cards spilling out of every other shop.

 Yes the place is pretty, but overpriced (even the cathedral charged for most things) and not especially different. We wandered around aimlessly, tried to connect to the internet in several occasions but Orange Nowhere was having none of it, wanted to visit a brewing museum but they charged 5 euro to get in, got walked into one too many times and just felt quite annoyed, even a visit to the park didn’t help.

We were still underwhelmed on the journey home, so did some shooting from the hip photography on the overcrowded platform, during which I failed to photogragh a double decker train!

We were still also undecided on if we were going to stay another night at the site or drive through the night to try and save some money. Henry, the bar man had told us that we may be able to get some work in Venlo, Holland, just outside of Belgium and on the German border. So we had a direction, just not a plan. Back at the campsite I decided after tea of a crisp sandwich that I was way too tired to drive and stayed another night. We decided to get an early night and not to return to the bar. A shame, but we need some rest.

Bon nuit, x.

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.

Orange Nowhere.

Day 10, Mecredi, Salle Chimay to France to Salle Chimay, 11^th May.

Orange Nowhere.

After a frustrating evening trying to get Orange Everywhere to work , we woke up deciding to take Orange Nowhere back. This meant a long drive back to St Quentin, in France, groan.

Back at the Orange shop we get directed to the other Orange shop in St Quentin Ville. When in St Quentin centre ville it felt an unfriendly place, a feeling we have not yet received n our travels and people were actually laughing at the sight of us in the street? Odd. In the orange shop we were told after much argument that we couldn’t return  Orange Nowhere because, well, no reason really, they just shrugged their shoulders. A very rude man plugged it in and it worked, worked, well of course it did, we were in the orange shop! Flaming angry and showing it we left the shop with orange nowhere still plugged in and got mocked some more on our way back to the car. Au revoir St Quentin, glad to see the back of you.

On the road returning to Salle Chimay, Belgium, we stopped at Aldi, our new favourite haunt to stock up on wine, Bob went in while I used the internet in the car park, which was surprisingly still working, in the car. He returned having ony spent 12 of the 20 euro he went in with, so I sent him back for more, unsure if Belgium was going to offer us 80p wine. He returned again with more wine and once back at the campsite after being over taken by the road raging French quite a few times, gosh, they like to drive fast, Bob produced not only our new wine cella but a bag of Oeufs a chocolat (chocolate eggs), and croissants, strangly something we did not eat in france. Nice one Bob!

We ate left over curry from the night before and moaned about Orange Nowhere as, somewhere between France and Belgium the connection  had disappeared!

I havnt taken 1 photograph today and feel quite strange. Also, absolutely knackered from stress and driving I really want to settle down somewhere for a good few days to laze about in the sun and roll in the grass. The 5 euro a night campsites we had dreamt of are still a dream and I am concerned about the budget. Spending almost triple what I had expected, I think we are going to have to find work pre September when our grape picking job begins?

In bed writing I am drinking wine and eating my oeufs a chocolat. I am going to read Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance until I fall asleep for a very long time,

Bon buit, x.

p.s. don’t buy into Orange Nowhere.

A Very straight road.

Day 9, Mardi, Bertangles to Belgium, Salles Chimay, 10^th May.

A very straight road.

My first hang over kicked in this morning when we had to try and pack the caravan away and hit the road. Moving around so fast is beginning to take its toll I think, but I am sure we will get used to it. A rather dry baguette avec jam was what I forced down for breakfast after s sleepless night due to extremely heavy rain during the night and probably a bit too much vin de rouge.

After skidding  on wet grass and filling up with petrol (1.68 euro litre, not happy) we headed for a very straight road in the direction of Belgium. Not really knowing if we were going to make it or not was quite exciting, as was having a sandwich made by Bob packed in the car for ready for lunch. The road we take is a very straight road, you can see down it for quite some distance, its an easy drive going straight ahead for about forty miles. Bob tried to wee into a cola bottle after about twenty miles...

Bob “I can’t do this, its just going to come back at me”

Me “Patti Smith did it in a helicopter”

Bob “Really?”

He tried again to no avail. I had to stop and Bob went into the caravan while massive lorries hurtled past rocking the caravan from side to side. This made me want to go too so then I had to go pee in the bottle too, then carry out the warm, yellow cola at the side of the road and throw it in the bin.

Back on the road we decided to stop and buy a dongle as the internet has been hard to find and as much as we want to keep our journey plan, to have no plan, a little research would be good and a connection with what was home once too. Buying such in item is not the easiest with limited language skills, but we managed, and should have had, from that moment, internet EVERYWHERE! When we tried it out, there was no internet ANYWHERE! We are going to take it back, this was 84 euro not well spent.

We followed the very straight road until it started bending and not being very straight anymore. Villages and county side got in the way. I was getting really tired. After about 3 hours of towing the caravan I just want to get out of Vincent and un hitch Gerald and not have to think about driving again for a good few days. I knew that Bob was keen to get into Belgium today and as he was navigator, he navigated us right over the border. The road, for about a mile before Belgium, was dotted with little old men leaning over garden fences or trimming a hedge, all looking at us as we drove past. I felt like it was France saying goodbye, au revoir.

We don’t have a map of Belgium, only the parts of it which border France so are in the French road map, kindly donated to us from Bob’s parents. Bob navigated us right to the end of Belgium as we knew it and then we were on our own. Just off the map is ‘Camping Mon Reve’, and what a dream come true. Belgium is unlike France in that there isn’t a campsite in every village and the sign posts are not very good. After two wrong turns we arrived at the site, there is a restaurant, cabins and a bar, all completely deserted, but quirky and a little ran down. The campsite manager came to meet us and let us off with paying for the car and electric when we said it was quite expensive, saving us 4.50 euro. It’s still expensive at 15 euro a night though but he has also mentioned that we can stay until 2pm tomorrow and helped us manoeuvre the caravan to the right angle, what a nice man.

I made lentil and courgette curry for tea and I drank two pots of earl grey tea, no vin de rouge for me ce soir,

Bon nuit Belgium, x.