My ride report...
The very short version....
Act 1: Dunkerque to De Panne (and hence Brussels): Eeerk! Grr! Hrmph!
Act 2: Brussels to Ostend: Wow! Yay! Flanderstastic!
Act 3: Ostend to Dunkerque: Ouch! F****! F****! (and lots more F***!s).
The very long version....
Warning: This part contains numerous examples of incidents of which the reader may think 'I wouldn't have done that', or 'why didn't he do that?'…hindsight's very straightforward, and so is armchair criticism. If just a few of those things hadn't happened the whole ride sandwich would have been good as the lovely filling. No repeated loops of coastal towns like a really dull Euro adaptation of Groundhog Day, no lengthy stretches on fast roads, and most importantly no crashes and no missed ferry...But they
all did. It was A Learning Opportunity. And dear reader, please don't take An Opportunity To Tell Me What I Should Have Done, because I've had plenty of time to think those over and I will do rather better next time. Ta
In getting to Brussels, I went for the
cheapskate less unreasonably priced option- trains along the coast via Brighton and Ashford Itsnotinternational to Dover, DFDS to Dunkirk, ride to De Panne. (Hindsight Learning Opportunity: go for HS1 and/or Eurostar or various other more expensive but less less tedious choices). The Plan, before it went awry, was (version one) train as far as Aalst or thereabouts and ride into Brussels to make the ride mileage up to the ton, modified in version two due to tight timings to train all the way into Brussels, then a short loop out to the Atomium for a photo or two before back to L'Chaloupe D'Or for meet-up and carb-loading. Well, the first part of that went OK.....
Up early, train east from Cosham at 8.05, first change at Brighton and second at Ashford, made Dover on time at noon. Plenty of time to make the 1315 check-in deadline for the 1400 ferry. In view of
@mmmmartin's scathing assessment of the DFDS catering, I decided to eat in Dover, and went to the Dickens Corner cafe, who did a fine job for us on Adam's overnighter down there. Too late for the (excellent) breakfast, decided to have a Ploughman's lunch. Portion was positively Normand in size- will add the photo from my phone later. Decent price, tasted great, served quick. Trip round to the Eastern Docks was straightforward enough, no problems getting around and checking in. The journey itself was pretty uneventful, and self and fellow cyclists (there were quite a few) were first off, and I was on the way east by 5.25. I already had Martin's coastal route option loaded up on the Garmin, and the first part was straightforward enough (a couple of wrong turns due to machine or operator error but nothing major). Nice scenery, quiet roads, was making good time. Probably wouldn't make the 1855 train, but plenty of time for the 1955. Well, there was, until I reached the
bridge.....What the photo doesn't show, and neither Martin nor the other people who've put that on routes may have been aware of (Martin certainly wasn't), is that it's raised to allow ships to pass through that section of the canal. And it was raised when I got there. I waited, I waited....no ships in view, no indication of when it might be lowered again. Must have been there fifteen or twenty minutes before I decided to turn back. That meant riding four miles back along the breakwater, there were no alternative options, then back round inland. If I'd taken the inland route to start with, if the bridge had been down, if I'd turned back quicker…I'd have made the train. (Hindsight Learning Opportunity: turn inland after the first stretch. You still get some of the pretty bits of the coastline, the inland roads were OK and you don't have to worry about the bridge).
After that, the rest of the ride to De Panne was quick and straightforward, roads quiet and weather perfect for it, but I'd lost the chance to make the 1955 train. The French drivers gave plenty of room, and there weren't that many of them anyway. I crossed the border into Vlaanderen (didn't take a photo of the yellow sign, should have...) at dead on 8. De Panne station reached ten minutes later. Got ticket from machine, no bike ticket required as I'd brought Chutney the folding rocket. My perusal of the Belgian Rail website had shown the faster option to get to Brussels was to change for the express service at Gent, but the timetables on the station didn't seem to mention that. Nice fluent-English man in the ticket office confirmed the express was both running and quicker. Forty-odd minutes later, on the train. Chutney went into a handy nook at the end of a carriage (didn't seem to be any luggage storage except above seats), nice fluent-English lady conductor was happy with that. Got to Gent on time, and the wait for the express was supposed to be fifteen minutes. You guessed it, it was late. Late enough to mean the speed advantage of fewer stops was wiped out, and then some. SMS exchange with Els to let her know I'd be late and to confirm that L'Chaloupe would still be serving food.
Finally got into Brussels at 11.15. All thoughts of going to the Atomium abandoned, made my way to the Grand Place (one word: wow!) and L'Chaloupe, where everyone else had of course arrived. Els was outside, and I requested that she advise the waiting group that I'd had an absolute mare of a time and really wasn't in the mood for any mickey-taking. Thankfully for me, everyone was understanding and sympathetic, and my mood quickly improved. The
Rijsttaart came highly recommended, and justly so. Just what I needed after that day- missed dinner on account of all of that....
Despite my tardiness, we were ready to go on time. A short walk to get off the Grand Place, the easiest way to get through the crowds and then we were on our way. David
@BalkanExpress expertly lead the way out of town before heading home. It was indeed nippy, but by heck that was good riding...Belgian cycle lanes are, for the most part, thoroughly sensible and well designed things, unlike, oh, 99.99% or so of the British equivalent. No bits of blue/red paint on the side of the road with potholes and manhole covers here, oh no. Smooth, wide, much of it by canals and with gorgeous views. Not fond of the very steep bridges or the cobblestones, but you can't have everything. Cycle lanes/paths are actually mandatory in Belgium where indicated- it never felt like an imposition because they were so good. You just wouldn't want to use the road....
And then on to the extraordinary hospitality provided by the Vandevelde family. Garmin battery had suffered in the cold, so it went in the rucksack for a recharge (Hindsight Improvement Opportunities- work out how to do this on Chutney while actually being able to see it, and actually let the thing fully charge next time). And we, as that little lot on the table should make clear, were amply recharged too. Very well fed and extra clothing donned- not withstanding our pace, I was feeling the chill- we said our goodbyes and went on our way at 4.30 or so.
The sun rose. The mist cleared. The world's loudest duck did a Donington-level soundcheck. A bottle went into a canal. Stunning scenery, and kangaroos, now clearly visible. Plenty of cyclists went out for a morning spin. I tightened up the front lights two dozen times (or it felt like it). Brugge was as peachy as Brussels, though I'd tear up every one of those cobblestones. Chutney rattles more than any of my other bikes (the hinges and the long cables see to that), and the noise was horrendous, let alone the vibrations.
The final hop to Ostend was straightforward, and the nosh at Caruso was excellent. €15 well spent. Our party dissipated in search of trams and trains, and I said my farewells to the sisters not long after 10.30. Ostend was forty or so miles. Check-in for the ferry by 1515. Should have been simple enough. Should have been......
The first part went well enough, the odd large bank of sand on the coastal path notwithstanding- some I resorted to walking. I was indeed hurtling down at a great rate of knots when Team Tram passed me. Then, for some inexplicable reason I decided to argue with a tram line, and lost, hurtling down in the wrong direction. Yup, I didn't want to make that an FNRttK tradition, but I did. Banged knee, nicely scraped up right hand, equally scraped up right thigh. (Hindsight Learning Opportunity: Just stay away from tramlines, mmmkay?). A helpful local pointed out in Dutch where I should have been riding...yes, thanks for that. Picked myself up, got on with it. Still time in hand, still made decent progress, despite the constant 'ouch'. Until I reached De Panne, where I ended up going round and round in circles eight or nine times. Road signs not as clear as they could be, I didn't ask for directions, though I had printed the route to Dunkerque I didn't consult it, and I hadn't loaded the route on the Garmin (even if I was in the wrong place, I could have used it to get back on course), because I was worried about draining the battery again. Just trying to use it to see where I was, as so often, wasn't much use. I could have used the phone, but for its recent and very annoying sporadic issue of deciding it hasn't got a SIM card. No working SIM, no data connection and no map. Which was a real pain as in so many respects it's a better navigation aid than the Garmin. I thought to myself- I could get a bus to Dunkerque if need be, there's bound to be a taxi somewhere...but the buses were infrequent and unhelpfully scheduled, and I never saw a taxi. So on I pressed.
Got out of De Panne, stayed on course to Dunkerque, still had enough time…then Adventures In Misnavigation Round Two. There were four or five ways I could have gone that didn't involve multiple u-turns, dead ends, 90km/h roads and getting more and more stressed out, not to mention late for the ferry. I did none of those. And no, dear reader, I did not consult those maps, did not ask a local, and the mobile was again being unhelpful when I wanted to use it to find where I was. I tried loading a route on the Garmin, and it fell over. Oh, and as it was clearly one of those days, I had a chain drop that knotted itself around the derailleur and I nearly had a clipless moment, both in the middle of junctions. Eventually, I made the port just before four. If only I'd taken one or neither of those detours, if I had consulted a map, if.....I'd have made the ferry. As it was, far too late to get on the 4pm sailing. What should have been a forty mile ride in less than four hours had been fifty-five in five. Strava link for the whole ride since Brussels
here. No cafe, only food available in vending machines, and a long wait...At least I was able to transfer to the six o'clock sailing and get some first aid....
I was The Cyclist on this sailing. Got a bit of a nap, had a passable enough Caesar salad (thought they couldn't ruin that, was thankfully right). Was the last person off the ferry, and just made Dover station in time for the next train north. I thought that there was no chance of getting home along the coast (Southern's last train to Brighton's about 2230!), so opted to stump up the forty-odd quid for a via-London one and stayed on the HS1 service until St Pancras. The short hop to Waterloo and I was in time for the fast service home, back at about 11pm (only an hour or so later than I would have been if I'd made the earlier sailing and trains not via London).
Wounds and stiffness will heal quick enough, and I will be in shape for this Friday night. And I will definitely be back for this one next year. Learning opportunities will be taken. Tramlines will be avoided.The Atomium will be photographed. More fun, less pain...
Thanks everyone. A fantastic day/night out, even with all those caveats, cuts and bruises.
PS:
For your viewing and listening pleasure (well, if you like industrial/EBM), one of my favourite Belgian works of art, in a promotional video featuring my favourite piece of Belgian architecture and featuring some Magritte-style odd symbolism.
PPS: Shot by a Dutchman. Never mind....
.
