Sean and Mick’s cycle trip through Scotland, England, Netherlands, Belgium and a tiny part of France.
This will be a very candid account of our trip which includes pictures of our cycling adventure. My name is Sean Tully and successfully completed a 16 day cycling trip with my brother Michael (or Mike). Mike is a little more experienced at cycling and it was his original idea to go on a cycling trip somewhere in mainland Europe which greatly appealed to me. We also combined our holiday to do a sponsored cycle for the ‘Cleft Lip and Palate Association’ (CLAPA) which is a UK charity providing relief and support for all those born with or affected by a cleft lip and palate. This was my wife’s idea as our daughter had been born with a cleft lip and palate; and CLAPA were a tremendous support to us and our daughter over the years. You can read more about the charity on their website www.clapa.com.
Plan
Originally, we thought about cycling around part of Belgium using the canal systems which have many cycle/walk paths running alongside. I had read much about this on the internet – see –
http://www.gamber.net/cyclebel/. Mike then came up with the idea of cycling from Scotland to Newcastle; sail to the Netherlands; then cycle south down to Belgium and hooking up with the canal systems there; and then on to Calais in northern France. Here we would catch the boat to Dover; stop off at Mick’s place at Folkestone and then hire a car and drive back up the road to Scotland – ‘Route set’.
Day 1
We started out on 29th July 2011 from Dalkeith, Midlothian in Scotland and headed towards our planned route which would bring us up through the Lammermuir hills and down through the borders. We originally thought about following the sustrans ‘coast and castles’ trail heading toward North Berwick, but felt that it would have added to our journey. We opted to join the sustrans trail just below Berwick upon Tweed instead.
Our aim now was to cycle via ‘Gifford’ on the B6355 on to the Lammermuir hills - then head down the smaller road via Longformacus and then toward Norham just over the border in England. Here we would spend our first night camping.
About 5 miles into our journey, Mikes gear cable shredded, and was unable to change his gears. We cycled to Haddington where Mike had his cable replaced. To be honest neither of us had a service done, which in hind sight would have been wiser to do. My bike is a Dawes Karakum (which is quite new) and didn’t think it would need a service. Mikes bike is a Dawes Galaxy which he bought last year. Both bikes are ideal for medium - long distance touring.
Having had his cable fixed, we headed off from Haddington up the A6369 then on to the B6355 just after Gifford. With the sun blazing down on us, we managed to get to the top of the Lammemuir hills and at this point stopped off for a brew. Both of us were in great spirits and looking forward to the adventure ahead. Note: Mike lost his camera somewhere in Newcastle and thinks he may have left it on the back of his bike after taking a photo of the millennium bridge. He had purposely bought it for the trip and was on a bit of a downer as he had taken some excellent photos of Scotland and England. My camera, much to my annoyance would not work due to dead batteries. It is for these reasons we don’t have a lot of photos for this part of our journey. I managed to get a photo of us up the Lammermuir hills before my camera died. It wasn’t till I got to Newcastle that I got batteries for the camera and relied on Mike taking photos on his camera instead.
We turned right at the top of the first section of the Lammemuirs hills and headed towards Longformacus which would take us near to Duns. We had a number of climbs which I had expected going over the lammermuir hills and had prepared for this some months in advance. We reached the B6470 which took us to Norham in England. We were really tired when we reached the ‘Salutation inn’ campsite - about a mile outside of Norham. We were glad to be offered a tent that was already pitched, with two compartments, plenty of room and a hook up to charge our phones. The campsite is basic, but the pub/restaurant on site enabled us to have an enjoyable meal and pint after our first day of cycling (about 50 miles). Mike had some flatulence issues that night, which he believes was caused by the instant coffee containing dried milk that we had been drinking; as this was most unusual for him. I am sure he must have been heard around the whole campsite – such was the enormity of this issue that long night!
Being a novice, I decided to use a cost effective set of panniers that a friend had bought me. I felt that they would be sufficient as wasn’t sure if I would be doing such a trip in the future. I initially had bought some nice panniers which I had ordered on line, but had to send them back as didn’t fit the bars on my rear rack; and therefore opted for the cheap ones I already had. I only used rear panniers as had read on a cycle forum that this is sufficient for a two week journey; and stuck closely to the advice given as to what I should bring with me. Mike being more prepared had more appropriate gear with him. Unless you were a keen cyclist, I don’t think many people would notice the difference anyway. As my mother often said to us years ago ‘who’d be looking at ya’.
Day 2
Our overnight stay at Norham is one that shall remain embedded in my memory for a long time, as it was one of the most unusual or strangest sensations I have ever experienced. Now I can’t be sure why this occurred, but I can only surmise, that due to the excessive and unusual hot weather we had the day before; including the difficult cycle up and down the Lammermuir hills, was the causality of effect; to be blunt, never experienced before, I had a cold butt! In fact my posterior was so cold that it was painful, so painful in fact that I could not sleep a wink. I had been warned about saddle soreness, but this was just ridiculous. Thankfully it only lasted that one night and had no re-occurrences for the rest of the trip.
We headed further south down through Grindon, Etal and Doddington. It was a short while after Doddington that we joined a group of five cyclists heading our way. They were middle aged men from somewhere near Gateshead. They said they did a cycle every year and had come from pretty much the same direction we had come from - via the Lammermuir Hills and were cycling towards Newcastle. They said they were on their way to Wooler where there were a few decent Cafes. Mike and I were gasping for a cup of coffee and opted for somewhere nearby. We separated from the group of other cyclists and headed to a nearby village, which contained nothing but ‘tumble weed’. We therefore went to a nearby field and made ourselves a nice cup of ‘instant coffee’.
Mike then suggested we head for Wooler where the other cyclists had gone, as guaranteed a decent café there. When we got to Wooler, we saw an ideal little café and the group of cyclists we met earlier, which gave us all a laugh.
At this point Mike referred to his cycle map and picked out an alternative route. His view was that we would be too near Newcastle too soon by heading south east and preferred to head south towards Clennell near Alwinton on the edge of Northumberland national park, as there was a campsite there. We continued to follow the sustrans map route which took us through North Middleton and Ilderton. Just before Ilderton, a fairly long stretch of track was proving too rough for the bikes, particularly as we had fully loaded panniers. Mike suffered a puncture as a result and found a shard of glass embedded in his tyre. It also partially damaged his two tyres which was unfortunate. We both agreed that we would avoid stretches that might be too rough and stick to the roads instead (No more tracks unless within reason).
Whilst Mike was sorting out his puncture alongside a river bank, we noticed a couple struggling to get there buggy up the bank nearby as they had been having a picnic with their kids. Mike being the gentleman helped them lift the buggy out. They were a nice couple from Newcastle and had a nice chat with them, telling them where we were heading. They gave me some money towards CLAPA, as they explained that a friend of theirs recently had a baby that had a cleft lip and palate. We then had another brew and set off again.
There were a number of climbs as expected and at times found it quite difficult; but continued on through Branton, Alnham, Biddlestone and then finally reaching Clennell caravan park. The caravan park is a nice family run campsite with fairly good facilities (though the toilets could do with an upgrade). It is in a very picturesque spot on the edge of Northumberland national park and certainly left an impression on both of us. Mike took some nice pictures here!!!
We quickly set up the tents, had our showers; and then went for a meal and a couple of welcome beers at the pub/hotel on site. Both of us were tired and therefore headed into our own tents. I started reading a small book I brought with me - ‘falling leaves’ by Adeline Yen Mah; which I found intriguing. Mike had Dan Browns book ‘angels and demons’. I enjoyed reading the book in the quiet of the night which I found very relaxing, only to be periodically interrupted by mikes persistent and sometimes violent flares of flatulence. It is then that I truly recognised the great advantage of having our own one man tents.
We both slept well that night and next morning had a good chat with a friendly man from Newcastle who was pitched next to us. His son and daughter were also camping with him. Mike got the idea from him about heading towards Hadrians wall; and suggested we head in that direction which would take us over part of the Northumberland national park to a campsite not far from Hadrians wall. This route would prove to be the most difficult stretch for both of us!
The above image probably accurately reflects what Mike and I had both envisaged Hadrians wall to look like when we would see it (the above picture was taken from google images).
Day 3
Next morning we both got our things packed up and headed toward Rothbury. Our journey started out quite well and reached Rothbury town where we had a nice Carvery at a pub restaurant. There were a lot of motorcyclists about the town and realised that it must be a popular spot to ride about the countryside on two wheels with an engine! Having been nicely fed and watered, we then headed off on our journey along the B6342 toward Scots gap.
This part of the journey proved to be the toughest of them all. At times I thought I was going to get sick climbing all those ‘damned’ hills. As beautiful as this part of the country is, I was completely fed up climbing hill after hill after hill on the bike. If they were small hills, I wouldn’t have minded, but they were very long and very steep, which made me realise why it is a popular spot for motorcyclists. I thought that maybe it was just me who was finding this section particularly difficult but took some solace when Mike said he also found it tough going.
From Scots gap we reached Belsay where we turned right on the A696 – Not recommended; as a main road – but had to get onto the B6309. This Road was fine and at last the route was beginning to level out making it easier to cycle; but thought the journey would never end. We cycled on through Stamfordham and then another several miles until we finally reached our destination – a little campsite called Wellhouse Farm Caravaning & Camping Park – about five miles east of Corbridge. The campsite itself was basic, and had good toilet and shower facilities. The only issue was that it was about 2 miles to the nearest pub, and we were both gasping for a pint. We quickly pitched up the tents, had our showers - made ourselves pasta, sauce and smoked sausage and then cycled to the pub (which was in the middle of nowhere) and got stuck into a couple of Stellas – (ie lager); This helped me forget the gruelling journey we had just been through that day.
Day 4
We got up early next morning, packed our bags and then headed several miles in the opposite direction to Newcastle, in search of that famous wall that those ancient geezers built! I was about 400 meters behind Mick and he had stopped to ask a couple of hikers who were both dressed in orange where the wall was. When I caught up with them, we discovered the two men were from the Netherlands and were keen walkers. The middle aged guy with blond shoulder length hair doing all the talking was one of the most charismatic guys we had ever seen. He was as charismatic as an American Baptist preacher - jumping about and waving his arms all over the place with great energy in explaining where he and his friend had been on his adventures. I was thinking to myself…are all Dutch people as eccentric as this…..It certainly gave us both a chuckle or two.
The Dutch gentleman explained to us that we were already on Hadrians wall - the very road we were cycling on; that we would need to go further up the road to see it properly. We cycled another mile and met a bus tour driver standing outside his bus at a parking spot who explained that we would have to cycle another several miles to see the wall proper. We decided to leave it at this point and head back to Newcastle, passing the charismatic blond headed Dutch hiker and his friend on the way back along the B6318 until we turned off for Wylam; and then along the river bank which had a fairly reasonable cycle/walk track. This leg of the journey wasn’t so bad, but seemed deceivingly long.
The river took us into Newcastle upon Tyne where we got ourselves a Greggs (Sandwich) and sat near to the river watching everyone walking/cycling along the promenade in the hot summer sun. Mike had taken a photo of us next to the Millennium Bridge with our CLAPA shirts on to prove we had reached Newcastle. This was the last time he saw his digital camera! When we got to the ferry, Mike went to take a photo and couldn’t find his camera. Understandably, he wasn’t happy. In the mean time, I bought batteries for my camera and started taking a few snaps. The following pictures show a forlorn Mike looking for his camera and me standing by the Ferry putting a front on things.
The boat trip was a welcome break and after strapping up our bikes in the hold we made our way to our cabin. We had a two berth cabin and had a fairly good night sleep apart from some youths causing some noise near to our cabin around 2am. Mike had enough of this and went out to ask them to keep quiet. I was laughing uncontrollably to myself as all I could hear was the muffle of his deep droned voice, which sounded like a scene out of Father Ted where he went out to say mass really quickly. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but could hear him say something (then there was a pause) then the faint sound of a young Dutch woman’s voice (then pause) then Mikes droned voice again (pause). Mike then appeared back in the room and said ‘sorted’! And went back to sleep – classic!! Here he is five minutes later.
Although as expected the food was somewhat expensive, we managed to rustle up a reasonable meal for minimum cost. Sometimes these places are just a rip off.
Day 5 – The Netherlands
Next morning we emerged from the ferry at Ijmuiden and headed toward Amsterdam about 15 - 20 kilometres away. We were immediately impressed by the cycle paths as expected; and had a pleasant ride into Amsterdam; that is until I got stung on the right cheek by a wasp! It was quite painful and had to put some savlon cream on to kill the pain. Nearby we noticed a big sign saying Amsterdam and chucked the CLAPA shirts on for a photo. I didn’t bother to check the photo properly as still in a bit of pain from the wasp sting and didn’t notice that a weed was covering half my face in the picture (oh well).
We then ended up in the centre of Amsterdam and had something to eat at a café. We rode around the centre and stopped off for a pint or two which was just the thing. It was enjoyable sitting outside next to a canal watching various boats quietly drifting past. As we cycled through the centre, we couldn’t help but notice the smell of hash in the air at times; and finding ourselves passing certain windows in a certain area after taking a wrong turn on the way to the campsite - woops!
After a few hours meandering around the city centre we opted for a local campsite situated on an Island East of the city. At first, it looked ideal, and being tired, Mike paid for our stay. It was only when we set off searching for our allocated spot that we realised we had dropped into a teenagers idea of camping paradise. In front of us sat a sea of tents - a mini Glastonbury! We stood there a good 10 minutes looking on in despair. At first we wanted to leave, but being so late, we had no other option but to stay. We pitched our tents in a little space deep somewhere in the centre and managed to tether our bikes to a nearby tree. After a couple of beers and the continual beat of alien music we actually felt at home. This cheered us both up and couldn’t help ourselves laughing at the fact that we were the only two old codgers there. The majority of people camping were young single people in Amsterdam for a good time. Remarkably, there wasn’t a sound all night, despite there being thousands of young people. Note: It doesn’t take too many cans for Mike to get his shirt off!
Day 6
We headed back into Amsterdam and Mick bought himself a similar camera to the one he lost. We then bought ourselves a Chinese meal and sat outside under a canopy in the pouring rain to keep a watchful eye on our loaded bikes. Just across the street from where we were sitting, we couldn’t help but notice a large, middle aged man taking photos of two young window dressers of a prominent upmarket clothing store. Initially we (and other tourists) found it funny thinking he was winding the girls up due to the fact that the red light district was only about a half mile or so away; but then he went inside the shop and came back out taking more pictures of them spending up to 10 minutes doing this! We both felt like going over and telling him to stop it. The only thing preventing us was the fact that he looked like a big mean bald looking brute of a man and didn’t want to risk a confrontation whereby we might end up in the canal – along with our bikes.
After our meal we headed out of Amsterdam following the cycle paths to Noordwijk. We stopped off at a campsite near to Noordwijk (the name of which escapes me).
Day 7 and 8
The following day, Mike suggested we stop off there for another night. I guess all the cycling so far had caught up with him (no stamina – poor kid). We spent the day having a relaxing cycle up to Zandvoort, where we bought ourselves a meal. We decided to get what every other cyclist in Holland has and buy stands for our bikes. What a difference that made! The cycle path along the coast was excellent and full off cyclists. It was very refreshing to see so many families out cycling. Many Germans spend their holidays here and we had a few nice conversations with some at our campsite.
Mike decided to do his Gordon Ramsay thing and made a meal later – pasta, sauce and smoked sausage again!! We had to set up a temporary shelter using Mick’s ground sheet as it had begun to rain quite heavily that night. The other campers thought our temporary shelter was ingenious as we tied it to a nearby lamppost and then to our bikes. So we had plenty of light to play chess. I had to draw a chess board as I mistakenly bought a packet of chess pieces only (The box was a little deceiving). The rain came down very heavily, but didn’t notice it at all as both of us were deep in concentration playing our games of chess, as well as drinking beer and Jamieson’s whiskey from our hip flasks (heaven).
Day 9
We got up early and Mike had his usual moan about my slow ritual in getting my panniers on the bike. In retrospect I can’t really blame him; I was usually 30 – 40 minutes behind in packing up and fiddling about with my panniers trying to get them on the rack. His view was that I needed to get myself some decent panniers that simply clipped on, like his Aviva panniers. I was personally happy with what I had (though more fidgety), but understood his point of view. For a serious cyclist, investing in decent panniers is a must.
We headed off on our venture by cycling through Leiden. The German tourist pitched next to us on the campsite suggested we go there as a very nice place to visit. Leiden truly was a pleasant surprise. The centre of the town is fantastic, with beautiful canals cafes and many shops. The day was very hot when we arrived in Leiden, which made me appreciate the fact that I brought my hat with me. I think I would have passed out otherwise.
After we had our ‘subway lunch’, we headed south to Wassenaar where we got slightly lost (Mikes fault). As we cycled through the town, we came a cross a very posh funeral in which everyone (and I mean everyone) looked like a film star. Every woman we saw was dressed in black clothing and looked like they had just come off the cat walk. What a sight it must have been for them to see two scruffy Irish men snaking through them on their bikes!!
When we got to our destination, we realised that the campsite we were aiming for was part of a big theme park swarming with kids. We decided to head for another campsite instead. The last thing we wanted was hundreds of screaming kids everywhere (sorry kids). We found a nice campsite several miles further on called ‘camping Duinhorst’, which I would have to say is a very well run campsite with very good facilities. I was well and truly ‘cream crackered’ (knackered) at that point and decided to go for a swim and then shower. The swim was short lived as there were screaming kids splashing about all over the pool. I enjoyed my shower, and afterwards pulled out my sleeping mat and had a power nap against a tree under the evening sun.
Mick did the honourable thing and went and got some shopping whilst I was making use of the campsite facilities. When he got back, he told me how hard it is to buy a bottle of whiskey in Holland. He said he went to a nearby shop and was frowned upon for asking for spirits. Mike said he felt like saying to the snooty woman looking down her very long crooked nose… ‘Well hey - surely whiskey can’t be as bad as drugs and prostitution’! Mike said he had to cycle a further several miles to De Haag to buy some whiskey. The guy’s a true out and out legend.
Day 9
We next cycled through the outskirts of De Haag and then on to Delft. If there is a lovely place to visit in the Netherlands, Delft is definitely worth a visit. It is almost like a mini brugge with some lovely canals. We hit the nail on the head when we arrived as there was an antiques market taking place along one of the canals near the centre. We walked around for quite a bit as there were loads of interesting stalls. I bought three cheap (but ‘real’) pearls for Niamh; or so I was told by the little Chinese man selling them.
Mike decided to buy another book ‘in a shop’ nearby as had finished ‘Angels and Demons’ by Dan Brown. He was quite annoyed when he saw the same book sitting on a market stall being sold for half the amount he had just paid.
The central plaza is endearing with its restaurants and cafes. Just as we were enjoying our meal in the central plaza and talking about how wonderful Delft was, a huge black cloud suddenly came out of nowhere and then all hell broke loose. The rain came down in torrents. We sought shelter in the cathedral entrance where just about everyone else went.
After ‘the storm’ we headed south again along the well posted cycle tracks and headed towards Maasluis and then got a car ferry across the ‘Nieuwe Waterweg’ (waterway) to Rozeburg. As we were approaching another ‘waterweg’, we passed two middle aged couples on their bikes and ascertained they were English. When we arrived at the bridge, it had a stop light and therefore waited patiently for it to raise itself in the usual way, which would be interesting to see. The two English couples caught up with us and we had a nice chat with them about where each of us had been and where we were headed etc. One of the women felt my saddle and asked how I managed to sit on it for hundreds of miles. She asked me in what I can only say reminded me of a Manchurian/coronation street type accent …..‘You don’t mind if I ask you a personal question……..but how’s your bum!! We had a few good laughs about the soreness of our rear ends – such as the comical explanations as to how the ladies had tried various methods of stuffing padding down their shorts to soften the pain saddle soreness!
We waited ages for the bridge to rise and wondered why it was taking so long. Suddenly, the entire centre of the bridge began to raise heaven wards at an incredible speed. It was a fascinating sight to watch; and before long it was back down again. We again had to wait for ages……and some of the locals began going under the barrier before the light went green….crossing at their own peril. The light then changed and we then finally went across.
We arrived at a nice campsite in a lovely little town called Brielle. We pitched up the tents, made pasta and smoked sausage again!!! (Mick was beginning to get sick of this by now and could make this meal with his eyes shut). We then went into the town to have a walk about. It was eerily quiet, but we ended up in a nice little pub for a couple of pints. It was noticeable that the locals looked well to do; and seemed to be a popular place to park up your £50,000 yacht and then head into the pub for a glass of champagne.
We strolled back to the campsite and into the site restaurant. We only had one pint there as didn’t particularly enjoy the country/club singer guy and the general tackiness of the place; as well as the cost of a pint. We headed back for our ritual game of chess and nip of whiskey from our hip flasks.
Day 10
We cycled over our first dyke onto a big island that appears to have two names when looking at my map (Goeree / Overflakkee). We really enjoyed cycling through this island as the wind was on our backs. We zipped along and found ourselves at ‘Oude Tonge’ in no time. Here we stopped off at our next campsite which was adequate for our needs; and which was alongside a canal. The campsite was more for mobile homes and chalets; but the owner of the site let us pitch our tents in a nice little quiet spot.
Once we pitched up the tents and had a shower, we headed into the town along the canal. We had a few pints in a nearby pub, which Mike maintains was a hells angel’s pub, as there seemed to be a few rough looking Dutch bikers hanging around. We then went to find a restaurant to get some grub, but every place was shut, which we found really strange as it was only about 9pm. We had no option but to head back to the campsite and ate whatever we could rummage from the bottom of our panniers to see us through the night. We had our usual game of chess and then put our heads down for the night. Note: Mike beat me at chess that night…and will give him credit where it is due. He was just a little lucky, that’s all.
Day 11
On the campsite owners advice, we cycled along a quiet road to our next Dyke across what I believe is the Krammer waterway? This was tough going as we were facing a very strong wind. The dyke was about 4 kilometres long and very impressive. Mick and I couldn’t help but notice a small group of cyclists on the dyke and a gorgeous blonde lady amongst them. We were astounded to see her get in a child’s carrier being dragged behind what must have been her boyfriend’s bike. I suggested to Mike that that was the way to pull chicks in Holland!!
Once we got to the other side, we next headed toward Belgium. We cycled down via Steenbergen where we stopped off for a coffee. Whilst sipping our coffee in the nice afternoon sun, a couple hundred kids went by us on bikes. The café owner explained to us that a week long cycle is held every year for all the kids in the area and that it was very popular, so popular in fact that there is a 5 year waiting list, to sponsor the event. We were both incredibly impressed by this, as the excellent cycle paths were ideal for such events throughout the Netherlands.
Belguim
Afterwards, we cycled down via Wouw (Netherlands) and then shortly after reached our destination just over the border in Belguim at a place called Essen; and immediately noticed the difference in cycle tracks. There weren’t as many and found ourselves beginning to cycle more and more on the roads. We personally found Essen to be a dreary little town that didn’t seem to have many shops in it; though we did stop off at a nice farm type restaurant and had a decent meal there.
We managed to find a campsite (the name of which I’d like to forget) just outside the town. The front of the campsite looked semi normal, but the office/shed didn’t look like it had been used in years. We asked a middle aged woman who happened to be cooking outside the front of her tent where the reception was. She brought us round to a mobile home where a ragged looking lady appeared. She said she would come round to our pitch later to give us the key for the shower room and toilet and collect payment for the night. In the mean time I went back into town to get the essentials (ie beer and grub).
Once back at the campsite, Mike said the owner gave him the key to the toilet and shower room. As he was about to head off for a shower we suddenly heard a lot of commotion. A large crowd of people were walking through the campsite with crates of beer. We discovered that they were Romanian gypsies and were staying in mobile homes at the other end of the campsite. At this point Mike gave me a look and said he was off to have a nice refreshing shower.
He suddenly arrived back about 10 minutes later looking very forlorn. He went onto explain the following experience which made me just about fall of my seat with convulsions of laughter. Mike explained that on his way round, he met the woman we originally met who kindly brought us to the see the owner of the campsite. She had tried to get into the ladies toilet, but another person inside had left the key inside the door and she couldn’t get in. Mike being the Good Samaritan, kindly allowed her into the men’s toilet as there were several cubicles inside. Mike then headed into the shower, stripped off and turned the shower on. To his horror and surprise, the shower was freezing cold…there was no hot water! He tried everything, but to no avail. To make matters worse, an unmerciful smell suddenly permeated throughout the entire building which had an extremely nauseating effect on him. It was the woman Mike had let into the men’s block! Mike said he almost puked his guts up several times trying to get his clothes back on and out of that building! He said he had worked with the biggest, meanest, burliest men in the line of work he is involved with, but had never experienced a smell like that. He then opened up a bottle of beer to drown his sorrows and forget about the whole experience he had just been through.
Day 12
Next day, feeling not so refreshed hygienically; we headed down towards Antwerpen along the N122. As we were cycling, it began to rain. We suddenly came to a railway junction and found the tracks coming in at a dangerous angle for bicycles. I wasn’t going particularly fast but unfortunately panicked and caught my front wheel in one of the rails; which caused the bike to topple over sideways causing me to fall off.
I hit the ground with a thump and slid along the ground slightly; a very painful experience. Foolishly, I didn’t have my helmet on and had given my head a knock. My right shoulder took the brunt of it; and had cuts and bruises on my right arm, hand and leg. I also tangled my left leg in the middle of the bike and was lucky not to have broken my leg. I had to sit down for about 20 minutes due to this painful experience. Our trip through Belgium was beginning to turn into a nightmare. Mike gave me some plasters and wipes to clean off the mud and blood. We both wore our helmets after that and then headed into Antwerpen alongside a railway track which had a good path most of the way.
I stopped off at a chemist to get more wipes. Two women began fussing over me when they saw the blood running down my arm and leg. In hindsight, I should have gone to the hospital, but was worried that they would have put my arm in a sling and it would have been holiday over at that point. The pain was really bad in my shoulder, but decided to carry on taking paracetomol regularly. Mike showed a great deal of empathy and understanding in regard to my painful plight! I say that with sarcasm!
Antwerpen was a very busy city. We stopped of at the centre and had a McDonalds. As with any large town or city we were more vigilant and were very conscious of our surroundings. We then cycled to one of the tunnels (was 30 meters down) that goes under the Schelde River which was a nice experience /novelty for both of us. You could access the tunnel via an underground elevator or escalator, Mike was especially impressed by this structure.
We decided to head back over the border to Holland as we were so used to cycling on really good cycle paths and quiet roads that meandered through lovely neat little towns and villages. Our hope was to find a decent campsite there. We ended up at a place that was supposed to be a campsite according to our map, but was a bleak looking place with a small cluster of cheap looking chalet’s.
As the day was young, we therefore decided to head back into Belgium as there was a cluster of campsites to choose from just inside the border. We eventually found a very nice campsite near a place called ‘Moerbeke’. The owner was a little Italian looking lady who was all business. She reminded me of a character you would see in a James Bond movie, in the way she spoke and her business like approach to things. The dark shades she was wearing added to the effect. Later on as we were pitching our tent, she raced up in a golf buggy....; asked if everything was fine in her efficient robotic way..; to which we replied ‘yes thanks’..; and then shot off in her buggy like a bat out of hell.
Mick was dismayed to find that a can of beer he had put in one of his panniers had burst. The pannier contained his sleeping bag, tent and ground mat and it had soaked right through everything. Everything smelled of beer……..poor guy. I was full of empathy and understanding over his plight! (sarcasm)
I then went to the toilet/shower building and to my utter disbelief, there was no toilet paper. I explained this to Mike and he proudly handed me his camping loo roll that he had continuously reminded me about in the case of emergencies prior to our cycling adventure. Afterwards we had our usual you know what meal (I wont mention it anymore); and then headed to the on site pub for a few pints. I phoned Wendy to tell her all about the fall I had that day and the excruciating pain I had experienced. As I was telling her, Mike was giving me the 1000 yard stare look, at which point I began to laugh deliriously. We then headed back and I thrashed him at chess - Great night!!
Day 13
Next stop Brugge. I suggested to Mike that we try the canal system as they were meant to be very good in regard to cycling as they have plenty of paths running alongside. This proved to be a fantastic experience and one we would recommend to all cyclists touring Belgium. We headed toward the north of ‘Gent’ along quiet roads which we found relaxing in the summer sun. We then got a free ferry ride across the river to ‘Evergem’ and stopped off for a pizza. We had to ask four very posh looking middle aged Belgian cyclists (who had also stopped off for a meal) the location of the canal that would take us to Brugge. They helped point out the right direction for us and we were finally on the canal system.
Within no time at all we found ourselves nearing Brugge. About 20 kilometres from Brugge, we came across a German WW2 bunker (in tact). There was a little sign on the wall of the bunker giving the history of why it was built (re the invasion of Britain). It was a fascinating - though quite morbid - sight to see….interesting none the less. At last Belgium was proving to be a great place for cycling and the weather was even beginning to pick up too. We managed to find a nice little campsite in Brugge itself not far from the centre called ‘camping Memling’.
We had a nice chat with an English couple pitched next to us and they gave us suggestions as to what to see in Brugge. I mentioned to them that I was completely shocked that they do not have toilet paper on any of the campsites in Belgium; that I had never heard the like of it. We did our nightly routine re meal and beer and chess. I had a particularly great sleep that night. I would have loved to have stayed in Brugge a bit longer as it is a lovely place to visit, particularly for couples. I could see myself and Wendy (the Mrs) whispering sweet nothings in each others ears on a romantic weekend there in the future!!
Day 14
We woke up to a glorious sunny day after a great nights sleep. I was particularly looking forward to seeing the famous plaza in central Brugge, made popular by the film ‘in Brugge’ with Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson. We decided to get the bus there instead of cycling. We had a nice chat with a young Italian couple on the bus who had pitched up next to us on the campsite.
When we arrived at our destination, we walked toward the famous central Plaza with its many medieval buildings. The place was buzzing with tourists. It was a nice relaxing place to be with restaurants all around. Mike didn’t get a good breakfast (nor did I for that matter) and decided to find a restaurant a few streets away for something to eat. Mike wanted a big slap up meal; whereas all I wanted was something light to carry me through the day for a bit. I had already eaten the rest of a baguette we had bought from the night before at the campsite (well - I was hungry!).
Mike bought himself mussels and I decided to buy two plates of waffles (one of them had strawberries, the other chocolate ice cream); also drank some strong Belgian beer of course. The waiter was taken aback when I gave him my order. I just told him well… I am in Belgium, and wanted to try out Belgian waffles!
Afterwards, Mike and I separated to do some shopping. Mike suggested we meet where Brendan Gleeson’s character threw himself out of the bell tower in the film ‘in Brugge’. When we did our bit of shopping, we then went on a boat ride, visited the church where Jesus blood is supposedly kept in a container. Mike put his two euros in and went up and touched the container. We then went to another church to see the ‘Madonna and child’ by Michelangelo (The only statue by Michelangelo outside if Italy according to the two English tourists pitched next to us on the campsite).
After the usual touristy things we decided to sample a few of the local pubs. There were so many pubs and cafes and lovely little streets to explore which made it all the more intriguing as never knew what might be round the next corner. We finally ended up in a bar where some rockabilly band was playing. We started talking to a German guy and his lovely Japanese wife; and then later on had a chat with an American couple, and had few good laughs that night. Mike and I had a bit of a skin full and decided to leave when we both started talking gibberish. We got a taxi back to the campsite and straight into our respective tents and gracefully crashed out.
Day 15
Next morning, a worse for wear Mike informed me that during the night he couldn’t find his way out of the tent fast enough. I don’t have to tell you what happened but a scene from the Exorcist might give you a clue. The stench from his tent was quite overpowering.
I rubbed it in by telling him my tent smelt of roses! We decided to stick to cycling along the canal system as this was the quickest way to get around Belgium without the hassle of traffic. The canal system was admittedly the best way to cycle from place to place as they are so direct, picturesque and peaceful. We initially got lost and spent about an hour and a half trying to find the correct canal to cycle out of Brugge to our next destination.
When we finally managed to find the right route (thanks to an old man about 90 years old cycling on a racer in top of the range cycling gear), we then set off proper. Within no time we had cycled about 40 kilometres. Mike was raving about cycling along the canal as it was so quick and then headed toward the French border.
As we neared our destination, we stopped off briefly at a place called Veurne. We were hungry and got ourselves a sandwich at the market square. We didnt see much of veurne as only passing through. We were however really impressed with the building architecture at the market square which had a bit of a renaissance look about it; and both agreed that Veurne would definately be worth a visit if cycling through Belguim in the future.
We decided to camp within the Belgian border as there were a number of campsites within the area (near ‘Adinkerke’). We stopped of at one that looked a bit dilapidated. Again, we were a bit tired and initially didn’t care too much where we pitched up. Mike went up toward the main house on the site and met a woman coming out in her car. She said her husband would be down in 5 minutes. We waited about 15 minutes and no one came down to see us. I then hopped on my bike and said to Mike that I wasn’t wasting anymore time there.
We then went down the road a bit and found a fairly reasonable campsite about half a mile away. The guy on reception was a little bit arrogant, but we were just glad to get a pitch at that point. I went to the toilet and made sure I had Mikes camping loo roll with me (no more surprises). I met a really friendly old man who was the campsite janitor. I asked where the showers were. He explained to me where they were, but said I would need to ensure I be out of the shower by 9.30pm (or so I thought), as didn’t quite catch what he was saying as speaking in pigeon English and what I thought was French rather than Flemish.
I then went back to our pitch and Mick had made pasta and smoked sausage. We quickly ate up and I then headed off for my shower. It was 8.45pm. At 9pm some guy was banging on the shower doors saying something in French, but perceived that we all had to get out. I quickly finished my shower and was about to put some gel in my hair when the nice little old man I met earlier started saying non monsieur finish please, we closing building…;or words to that affect! Judging by his demeanour, I simply had to leave…no questions. Outside, there were a number of English women from the other shower block who like me were clearly unhappy at what had just happened. I started chatting to a couple talking about our plight and how unhappy we were about it. I suggested, that given how strict they were in kicking everyone out of the showers so early, they could at least provide toilet roll to compensate!!
Day 16
Next day it was raining and quickly packed things up and headed off on our final leg of the journey. We reached a place called ‘Bray Dunes’ and bought a baguette and coffee there. We then cycled on to Dunkirk in the pouring rain. This proved to be the most frustrating leg of our journey. Dunkirk seemed to drag on for ages, and the rain didn’t help. Also we managed to get ourselves lost just outside Dunkirk going down dead ends and ending up on very busy roads. At this point, we turned the bikes around, and headed for the nearest canal system. It meant going south about 10 kilometres. The canal would lead us straight into Calais. Within no time we found ourselves back on track by following the canal and managed to get to Calais within a couple of hours. At Calais we took a picture of ourselves with our CLAPA shirts on. We then bought our tickets and boarded the boat.
Once at Dover we alighted from the boat and cycled on to Mick’s place in Folkestone. Mike looked despondent when we got back as the sudden realisation hit that our cycling adventure had now come to an end. I was glad to get back to some comfort as my shoulder was still very sore; and boy did it feel good to be back in a comfortable bed again. Journey accomplished.
Note: The only regret Mike and I had about our route in Holland and Belgium was that we cycled from North to South. The wind was a big factor and proved a real struggle for us at times. We were lucky the wind wasn’t too bad for most of our journey. Our advice to anyone wanting to do a similar route would be to cycle South to North instead, particularly if going along the coast. You will be guaranteed an effortless ride with the wind behind you. But to all those who maybe reading this and are contemplating a similar trip, we both truly enjoyed our short tour and can highly recommend just getting on your bike and going for it.
