Back in the USSR!

Okay, not really, but I am less than 100k from London now! Busted out a couple of big days to get here. Currently in Kemsing, tiny little village south east of London. The hostel is kinda quiet and the dude here let me into reception to use the pc..

I’m done talking now. Buy me beer.

Torment is..

Torment is.. having so much cycling on TV, in the papers, in the streets..

and not speaking Flemish or Dutch or German or French..

so not understanding a damn thing!!

I am sure every person in Europe can speak two languages (usually it’s about five!!) and I feel like a tool only being able to speak English. Why can’t they teach us a second language properly in school, instead of a half-arzed effort, fifteen years too late?

/rant

Me and my big mouth..

After my little gloat, the wheels fell off the hippy train..

I really did feel ill after that beer and it carried on through the night and the next day. I think I just pushed my poor(ly maintained, poorly treated) body too far..

Unfortunately, being an old-school hostel, they lockup during the day, so I had to vacate. This basically forced me ride to Ypres instead of lie in bed all day recovering. My physical collapse was well-timed – it was one of the coldest days I’ve had (10degC) and it pissed down all day!!

To give you an idea of how woeful I was feeling, my speed through the mountains (the natural enemy of a fat crunt) was just under 20kph at the end of a full day.. my speed from Kortrijk to Ieper, a 30k, relatively flat ride, was 14kph!!!! Two hours to ride 30k!!

It felt like I’d been hung from my wrists and repeatedly punched around my torso. Every bump rattled my insides, I cursed every freezing gust of wind and the chilling rain. I wanted to roll up into a ball in front of a heater and sleep.

I already knew the Ypres/Ieper hostel was booked out so, using the Kortrijk hostel guy’s advice, I went to the Museum in the Market Square where a nice lass helped me find a BnB. The singles were taken but a double was free for 45euro. I shook my head. There was some discussion in Flemish and the price became 30euro.

“Can I check in now?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take it.”

I booked a spot on a Flanders Fields tour for Monday, bought some Frites and Belgian chocolates and laid in bed all day watching TV – with the heater on! ๐Ÿ˜€

Points to note: I saw a ProTour race in Dutch (Bettini won), a pro race of some sort in French, a cyclocross race, Kevin Costner’s Waterworld, an episode of Flying Doctors – with Bud Tingwell as a patient, no less!

The doco on London sewers was quite interesting – half in Dutch and half in English and it even had Holly (Norman Lovett) from Red Dwarf playing one of the ye olde characters!

Bike Content: Have you seen VELO-CAM? I’ve never seen it before, but in the ProTour race, one or more of the riders had a camera mounted on their bike! It must’ve been on the fork or down tube as it showed the front wheel and rider’s hands on the bars – awesome!

Did the Flanders Field tour this morning which was very interesting. The number of soldiers who’s bodies were never recovered is astounding! I think more than 50,000 on the Menin Gate and another 20,000 on the wall at Tyne Cot cemetary. That’s just Aussies. War is fscked!

Oh, met an Aussie staying here this morning and he told me some crunts bombed Bali again.. fark. Be great if all the bombers put their hands up and we could just find a nice corner of the planet for them to detonate themselves in. Arzeholes!

To end on a lighter note.. this BnB has free ‘net, I’m in Belgium surrounded by beers and in a drinking mood again, I should make Calais or Dover by tomorrow night, the weather is good today, did someone say Belgian beers? WTF am I sitting here for?!?! *runs*

Actually, I’ll wait for the other Aussie to get back – he was talking beers this morning.. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Maybe a warmup brew? Or two.. or..

Man on a mission..

I’ve made the decision to head back to London and I’m not fscking around.. over 300 kays in 3 days!

This includes crossing the Ardennes!! and I’m still the same fat crunt you all know and hat.. love! ๐Ÿ™‚

Actually, I’m still achy from the stack, but it’s okay, I think it’s just bone fragments severing some nerves or something..

Don’t _I_ just rock?!

“What a wanker!”

“Hey! Who said that?! This is MY blog and I’ll spin whatever crapola I want!” ๐Ÿ˜›

Notice all the bold? Who’s a little bit proud of himself then? ๐Ÿ˜›

Right now I am wrecked.. I’ve pretty much crossed Belgium in the last four daze. My arse is begging for a rest.. everything hurts.. I had one beer tonight and I feel like I’m gonna spew.. but you know what?

It’s still mad fun!

Mum reckons she’s following my progress on a map or something so..

– The crash had me riding trains all over Luxembourg to find a frickin’ bike shop that was open! Ended day in Wiltz (pron. “Viltz”).

– From Wiltz I rode along bike path to Bastogne in Belgium, where I spent half a day in the tourist office while the nice staffer called people and photocopied three maps, just so I could make it to the hostel in Champlon via the “as yet unmarked” bike path (actually just small roads). I did. It was full! I couldn’t believe it! Champlon is tiny! Friggin’ school groups! Anyway the situation quickly turned better when they said I could camp on the grounds, with full use of facilities, for nothing! One of the dudes even shouted me some Rochefort Trappist beers, brewed in the nearby town of.. guess? ๐Ÿ˜›

– From Champlon, I removed all trace the locals’ doubts (and mine actually!) by making it to Namur. To enhance the challenge (“Fat bastard versus the Ardennes”, that is) I also took a few hours out of the day to visit the Han cave system in Han-sur-Lesse. The caves rock!

But the train rides, walking and boat trips must come to an end and then it was back onto the bike and into the rain, climbing some sickening, windy, evil bastard hills to get to Dinant.

Note to Self: Even if you are in full cycling kit, holding a helmet, dripping sweat onto their desk.. Never assume the tourist info person knows you are riding!

I’m sure there was an easier way along a river but I rode along the N90 or something.. 7% up for 2k, 7% down for 2k, 7% up, 7% down… I flipped out and started swearing loudly at the world (okay, so I do that normally, but this was crazed “can’t even get the words out” insane ranting-type swearing.. )

Dinant was a lovely riverside town and I thought I was going to have to stay here, which wouldn’t have been too bad, except the options were 80euro per night or camping. I’m over camping. It’s cold here damnit! But, this lovely TIC chick says “it’s 30 kilometres to Namur, all along the river”. I do a double take and test my theory with “so it’s flat, all the way to Namur?”. “Yes”, she replies. Holding back a jump for joy I get her to book me a place there and haul backside to Namur. Mmm hostel goodness..

Spent the evening with a crazy, openly gay, American jazz singer.. and if I ever say “I was too fscked to walk” it DOES NOT mean what you foul-minded miscreants are thinking. My arse is and will always remain a virgin, thank you very much!

– The next day I ripped out another 100+ kays riding from Namur to Mons. The distance should have been closer to 80k but YOU see if you can find a French speaking Belgian (Wallonian) that actually knows how to get anywhere without using the motorways! I just love riding around in circles… *takes random circle and cuts it into little bits, stomping the pathetic remains into the ground*. Um.. I’m not crazy, really..

Ended up in a pharmacy looking for drugs.. I mean directions.. and wound up speaking to the husband of one of the workers there because he could speak English. This helped a lot and I did the old TT effort along the river.. until the next hiccup where some old dude ends up (after getting frustrated at my directional stupidity, no doubt!) wheeling out a pristine, black, latest model, all the bells and whistles, Eddy Merckx flat-bar roadie!! Saved again!

– Mons was actually quite nice too and I was going to stay another day there.. until I woke up and, almost out of habit, put on my soggy gear (the heaters weren’t on) and rode off! There were a few hostels in the NW direction – I’d already stayed at Tournai and it was too early when I hit Renaix (“Ronse” in Wallonian?), so I kept going to Kortrijk (Courtrai) where I found one of those older style hostels. Nice and has ‘net and beer, so I’m doing this..

Plan is to do one of the Ypres tours (infamous WWI battle ground) and then hit England again. This time I WILL take more than one day from Canterbury to London! Probably even take a train the last bit because this time I don’t have a “London A-Z” with me.. we’ll see..

Oh, the aim is to make it to the party on the 8th at Grant and Sheila’s.. I hope they want me back! ๐Ÿ˜€