It finishes where it began

 There is quite a difference between Belgium and the Netherlands. The most important difference for me is the bike riding infrastructure. Scattered and not very well designed or used in Belgium; prolific, populated and smooth throughout the Netherlands. I’ve not been able to overcome my tendency for serious caution despite bikes frequently having right of way as cycle paths in excellent condition snake both sides of roadways. Roundabouts, terrifying encounters elsewhere, have separated bike lanes and again, vehicles give way.

The population seem to be much less reliant on mobility aids and overweight people are definitely in the minority. I’m assuming this is due to daily riding to and from school, work and the shops. Oh, and age is no barrier.

From Charleroi we pedalled to Namur, a clean and bustling place right on the Meuse. Our accommodation was in the middle of the evening jollity, hundreds of people sitting outside in the warmth of early October.

We rejoined the cycle way along the Meuse, stopping in Huy for a coffee and cake. Bars are full of usually older men and women taking a morning beer.

Liege was especially vibrant. People everywhere enjoying themselves and lots of students kicking up their heels to celebrate the start of the academic year. If you’re in Liege, don’t miss the railway station. Coloured glass panels form the roof. It’s so much not like Southern Cross.

Rain was forecast so we took in the gallery before catching a train to Maastricht. We then rode onto Gulpen and visited the place where three countries intersect.

Our last day was from Gulpen to Maastricht where we dumped our stuff and rode out to Bokrijk to ride through water. This feature was provided by the Limburg area to encourage tourism.

So here we are, returned to Maastricht from whence we ventured out. We’ve ridden 1624kms. Not a bad effort. And let’s hope there’s further posts to follow.

The Belgian Leg

 We’re 1372kms into our five weeks of riding and have only been wet once. That was navigating the last 10kms to our Airbnb in Charleroi. Not a bad record.

From Reims we rode to Laon, the former capital city of France. Perched high on a hill it was satisfying to ride to our gorgeous hotel using battery power to reach it. Pierre our host bought the rambling house and gave it new life with style and humour. I lit a candle for Jo in Notre Dame.

Riding to Hirson the following day was our first real food desert experience. Not a soul stirred in the villages we rode through. The farms were more akin to Australian stretching across broad plains. 

Hirson was unremarkable. Gritty and somewhat grimy. 

Onwards to Mons, a busy city, also unremarkable. Life was generated by the city’s students who outnumbered the old, poor and the workers. 

Charleroi was meant to be an easy ride along a canal. Detours however saw us crisscrossing the water many times and the expected distance of 42kms lengthened to close to 70. 

What a dispirited city it is. Grime, rubbish, people doing it tough. Best thing is to leave. I can’t imagine the lives lived here are full of optimism, opportunities and joy. We did however find the small and beautiful gallery. Not surprisingly we were the only visitors bar one other. Des and I also watched the Grand Final, albeit on an iPad after shelling out $46 to the AFL for the privilege. Bit hard to soak up the atmosphere but Des is very happy to take the win.

A few more days on the road is all that remains. Soon I’ll get the hang of the e-bike.

From Chablis to Champagne

 After much discussion we decided not to partake in the 325€ per head tour and tasting in Reims, choosing instead some very smooth drops from the local Intermarché for 7 or 8€.

We arrived in Reims via Decathlon where I took the opportunity to replace my two pairs of incompetent nicks with two new pairs. I also found a new saddle seeing mine is cracking up. Funnily both nicks and saddle looked alright in the winter light of Maryborough.

We’re riding back to Maastricht rather than going further and training back. Getting a loaded bike into and out of several trains and negotiating a ride through Paris didn’t appeal. Besides, Liz, John and I have ridden up the Champs Élysées and round theArc de Triomphe so we don’t need to do it again.

The country, although still growing maize, sunflowers and grains has changed as have the villages. Greater prosperity is evident every where. Nevertheless village life is ghostly as we rarely see the inhabitants. One place we rode through must be the cabbage capital of France. Field after field, tractors, trucks and conveyor belts, then no more. We did dine on cabbage that evening, however ours was from a can in the “regional specialties” section of the store.

I’m always on the lookout for Wildlife. I’ve noted myriad grey herons along the canals, the ubiquitous corvid, a couple of squirrels and a dead badger. A gaudy kingfisher with its orange underbelly and turquoise wings flew along part of a canal as I trundled behind it. Cattle, sheep in small numbers, donkeys, horses, chooks, geese, goats and ducks watch as we pass by. And dogs bark a welcome, or is that a warning?

We’ve travelled 1098kms in sunshine and now cooler temperatures. We’ve had one flat tyre and a fair bit of skirmishing arriving in and departing from cities. Spirits are high and there’s a little smugness as we navigate our way along canals, country roads and the odd goat track. It’s fun to spend hours each day outside observing how the world ticks over.

Northern Burgundy

 Amazingly we’ve ridden more than 17 days covering more than 750kms, skirting the Champagne and Burgundy regions, and not until today have we clapped eyes on a single grapevine let alone a vineyard. But that changed today in Chablis. Vineyards and wineries galore. 

It’s harvest season so there’s gigantic tractors and cutting equipment driving up and down the narrow streets bringing loads of Chardonnay grapes in to be pressed. On our 1km walk to the supermarket we passed three wineries and to get out of the rain on the way back we went down into a cave and tasted some Chablis.

To celebrate Des’s birthday we planned a cute looking lock turned into a hotel with restaurant evening. Things did not pan out as planned. Instead we dined on sardines, terrine, salami and local cheese made by a woman with six cows. Madam who owned the alternate bistro,

went to a concert so dinner was delayed until 9pm. 

The hotel was shambolic. The charge was 85 euros per room. I said I wouldn’t pay more than 50 euros so that was what we paid. No wifi, a bathroom door that got stuck, a downlight that leaked water onto whoever might be using the toilet. Oh, and the door didn’t lock either…A birthday to remember we agreed.

French farmland is gorgeous. Patterns of colour, spinneys and free-range Charolais cattle and the odd sheep. And massive farm machinery. Right now there’s maize and sunflower harvesting and ploughing and sewing green crops taking place.

Generally our accommodation has been fabulous, especially the Airbnb places. We’ve cooked delicious meals, relaxed on comfortable couches and washed clothes. Perfect.

The ride is going well. We begin riding north after this rest day, back to Maastricht. So far 843kms of lovely canals, forests and farmland dotted with villages. Finding a morning coffee is not always possible as many of the villages seem largely empty. But it’s always interesting to find a bar where the people are drinking wine and beer and betting on horses and numbers. We may scoff, but they’re out socialising rather than sitting at home in front of television.

A Dijon

 What a beautiful old city this is So far, no moutarde has passed my lips but there is a shop nearby only selling jars of the stuff for tourists not on bikes. We’ve wandered around town today, partook of a delicious lunch and got acculturated at the Musee Des Beaux Arts.

Four days of riding since our last rest stop in Verdun. We’ll, not quite the full four days as we discovered that Neufchateau to Langres was panning out at more than 100kms, so being sensible we went to the railway station and bought tickets to a town close to Langres.

We enjoyed the walking tour of Langres, walled and perched high on a hill. Merci beaucoup for an e-bike.

The trip to Dijon took us along a canal lined with trees showing their autumn colours. A house on the edge of the copious locks. Seemed like a pleasant and not too taxing career.

We’ve loved the riding and the extremely pleasant conversations with locals serving coffee en route. The farmland is well-tended but in serious need of rain. The sunflowers have drooped and the maize has dried off. Although we came across one sunflower field that had been planted later. The steers are fat and the silage is being honed.

So far we’ve come 626kms and will take off for a semi-circular ride in north Burgundy before joining the Loire.