After crossing the English channel on a hazy morning, we landed in France only to find out that Dunkerque ferry station is 30km west of Dunkerque. But finally, after crossing into Belgium, over 500km since departing from Bristol/Notts, we entered the world famous village of Westvleteren - glorious site of the allegedly world’s best beer! However, having located the monastery, in which the legendary potion was made, and “Den Engel”, a dingy little place, which is the only pub to sell it off the tab; we found these to be just as deserted as the rest of the entire town.
Not yet half way there this was certainly one of the most demotivating experiences en route. Due to complete frustration, I decided to no longer search for a bike mechanic to repair my gear system, but go all the way to Frankfurt – in top gear!
2nd July, Heuvelland – Kluisbergen 110km (395km)
Mission Cobblestone goes CHICKEN!!!
After serving our trip’s name on the cobbled climb up the Kemmelberg in West Flanders (23%!!!), we skipped back into France and crossed through Lille towards Roubaix in excruciating heat. Totally famished, but confronted with the fact that the French won’t sell you any food after 3pm (and if you starve on their doorstep, so be it!); we stormed into a Carrefour supermarket, returning with two entire grilled chickens – gone within minutes! Before yet another stop at the last chips shop in France (Hans: “Bastian, it’s the last one in France – we have to!”), Bastian got to turn a few laps on the famous velodrome of Roubaix and now believes he should compete against Cancellara next year!
Sprinting away from the approaching thunderstorm we made it to our camping place (called “Panorama”) after the fall of darkness, only to find the next morning that “Panorama” meant full view on the local nuclear plant!
3rd July, Kluisbergen – Brussels, 95km (490km)
First and only day of rain!
To balance things out, Hans’s bike now joined Bastian’s in its desolate state with the crank of a pedal coming loose, which needed tightening multiple times a day from now on. Due to this miraculous fortune of brilliant weather and excellent equipment, we focused on heading towards Brussels in time to see the Germany game and get a place in the youth hostel. We didn’t make it to Brussels in time, despite a (highly accidental) ride on the highway, but did find a bar to watch the by far best game of the world cup – 4:0 over Argentina!! After cycling through London with a German flag on your back while Germany is in the process of shattering England (and you’re not aware of it), being the only two people two watch the mute screen in a dingy Belgian, while being glared at by everyone for enjoying all this (and some Belgian chips alongside) felt almost normal!
After our celebrations that night were suffocated by a Spanish autocorso, Hans indulged in his new lifetime purchase (see photo), while Bastian’s geographical sense of coordination failed miserably: what a brilliant sight it must have been for the Belgians to see these two limping Germans have a go at each other at every street crossing at 2am.
4th July, Brussels – Erps Kwerps, 20km (510km)
The only day of rest was indeed very welcome and resulted in the essential tourism marathon through Brussels: yet Manneken Pis (or as Hans puts it: “the piss boy”) was just as disappointing as the closed European parliament. Far more promising was the stage finish of the Tour de France! Ultimately, it meant standing behind six rows of people staring through two iron bars, seeing an indiscernible blur of colours fly past but having no clue who won and how the race went. On the other hand, Hans now claims to have seen “Eddy Armstrong”! :-)
That evening, whilst heading for Charli Pratt’s home in “Erps kwerps” (despite the legendary name, we missed it 3x), I had my first and only vehicular collision: crossing through the yellow phase of some traffic lights on a steep hill, I was too slow for the dopey white van approaching from the right. It felt like slow-motion when I managed to edge forward a few inches and he only hit the back of my bike, giving me a slight spin, but I was fortunate to stay upright and escape without even a scratch. After a short break (and a go at the driver before Hans calmed me down) we were up and running (cycling!) as normal.
At this point a big “thank you” to Charli’s mum who was a really great host to us that night and welcomed us with cold beers, pasta and a recording of the Tour de France. Sadly our actual host decided not to turn up... ;-D.
5th July, Erps Kwerps – Maastricht, 110km (620km)
On a long but easy and straight road to Holland we were accompanied for a long stretch by Glen: a Filipino doing his own lifetime achievement of cycling to Germany himself (hope you got there, Glen! We still gettin’ that video?). Arrived at a camping site in Maastricht and enjoyed a beautiful starry night sky.
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