So, not that this has been a hugely popular blog, nor that we’d even consider living of its advertising revenue, however there are some individuals amongst the potential audience that are less fluent in Dutch, so we’ve decided change from Paul van Ostaijen’s mother tongue to a, if not “the”, real world cultural language of William Shakespeare.
It has been a while since the last post. The reason for that is simple: while one reads any of these travel blogs, you think that the respective writers do nothing else but sitting on their bike and wander around the globe, let me tell you a secret: it’s nothing like that. We have regular jobs and most of our year consists of what the French define as “Metro, Boulot, Dodo”, or the regular ratrace. While that might sound a bit too negative for the genuine joy we get out of our jobs, we do always look forward the summer and the next tandem adventure. From spring onwards we typically start getting into shape and take advantage of every sunny weekend to go pedalling. Not so this year, except for two exceptions. Back in April, full of good intentions, we took the train to Namur and rode back home. Two days, one just under 75km, another one just over 80km. Beautiful weather and as is mostly the case a nice discovery of less known corners of our own country.
Then, on labour day (1st of May), we got on a bus in the direction of Paris, to then take the train to Langres. The goal was the source of La Meuse. It might sound silly, but I’ve got a “thang” with river sources. It started many years ago with the idea to go find the source of the river Scheldt (de Schelde, L’Escaut). While Antwerpians, notorious for their modesty, claim “t Scheld is van oens” or the Scheldt is ours, the river also happens to pass through Ghent and I was intrigued where all that water came from. Also, I was looking for an educational context to spend a weekend with my friend, when I also needed to take care of the kids. Following the river upstream, stopping in every town along the way to taste the local beer, while telling the kids semi-historical “facts”, seemed like the right thing to do. Long story short, we had a blast, learned that Antwerp had actually justified their claim by purchasing the land around the source, which made it truly educational, and from then I used the quest for river sources as a good excuse for taking some time off. Having done the sources of the Rhine, the Danube, and that other great river flowing through Ghent, La Lys (de Leie), this year La Meuse (de Maas) was on the list. Why? Well, euhm, because we had not done that one yet. Not fully realising that travelling through Paris on labour day might not be the best idea, we nearly got an anal check from the police arriving at the Bercy bus station. Having dodged that first obstacle, we were surprised by the actually quite good bicycle paths in Paris. Many Parisians and by extension the French, claim that all of their infrastructure sucks, and therefore they have to take the car, however I would disagree. It was a smooth ride from Bercy, along the freshly burnt Notre Dame, to the Gare de l’Est to take the train to Langres, situated about 30 km from the source of La Meuse. From there it went in four stages back to Belgium, Florenville to be more precise. Four stages, four days and four seasons. We left Langres with blue skies and 27°C, got into our thermal pj’s to sleep in the tent that night, had to seek shelter for pouring rain the day after and even had the pleasure to get some refreshing snow and hail on one of our descents.
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All this said, except for these two trips that meanwhile seem ages ago, we did not get on our beloved Helios tandem that often this year. And why am I telling you this? Because we do again have a cycling challenge ahead of us this year. From the very beginning we started cycling, I was dreaming of going around the world to deserted places, to boldly go where no-one has ever gone before, you know? Bien, my wife, being slightly more realistic, pointed out that doing that will take you to places without electricity nor running water, where they might eat strangers for breakfast and their children for dinner, where the political situation is so unstable that what is true today, could be exactly the opposite tomorrow. She felt that some regular road exercise might be sensible before tackling the greater adventures. Last year’s trip to Norway was part of that strategy to take it “easy” and at least go to a “civilised” country first. This year we’re ready to take on the more adventurous work and have decided go to a region where the food mostly consists of animal intestines and in which they speak an incomprehensible language, a region that is seeking independence from its suppressor, a nation that once an empire now has fallen in decay and where a day in politics could be used as the story line of an Indian soap opera. Where the new, undemocratically elected Prime Minister has no issues telling “alternative facts” to get his way. A kingdom that in spite of it’s great history is starting to resemble the often mocked kingdom and our home country, Belgium, when it comes to political absurdity. Yes, we’re going to Scotland.
As the title unveils, this is a service announcement that we leave on August 3rd, from home to Zeebrugge to take the ferry to Hull and head northwards, but further more in the great unknown, hoping not to get killed by the rivalling clans or the local liquor along the way to end up in Glasgow by the end of the month. In the unlikely event we get connected to the internet, we shall report on our progress, mental and physical situation through this blog. Feel free to leave us a message for mental support.
