London to The Hague via Dunkirk and Dover, cycling - Day 8, Bruges

Bruges...

Well that was covered in the previous day’s post.

London to The Hague via Dunkirk and Dover, cycling - Day 7, Ghent to Bruges

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GPS route (.gpx) available here.

From, memory, the route to Bruges was almost all along canal paths, so easy riding. It was very picturesque, just like one expects western Europe to be in summer. It was interesting to watch some of the cargo traffic down the canals, just to see what they were carrying. Most of it looked like waste. Maybe there was some grain. Most of the boat operators carried their car with them on the top of the boat.

Once again, the Flemish countryside was really nice, and the houses in the country villages were really nice too.

I stayed in a camping site that had caravans so it was actually a caravan park. Somebody ought to point out to the continentals that camping refers to camping, not caravanning. Anyway, there was a rat in the caravan park creeping around near my tent, which was ok because it wasn’t getting into my tent. It was more likely to sneak into one of the tents parked within 1 metre of mine. They really like to cram in the tents in this ‘camping’ place.

However, the showers were the best of all the places I stayed at (except the ferry, but more to come late about the ferry).

A few highlights of Bruges:

Bruges boasts a short list of attractions... the Friets museum, and the choco story museum where I learnt about the life story of chocolate, and a church that claims to have a vial of Jesus blood. The bad thing about the vial church was that it was tucked in a corner of the main square, and there was a delivery van in front of it so one couldn’t take a good picture.

To get to see the vial of blood you had to  line up, and then you climbed up some steps on to a platform where there was a lady sitting behind it so no one steals it. It was pretty disgusting. Imagine blood with lots of solidified fat in little droplets like from bacon or sausages or a roast. And all the droplets were clumping together at one end of the vial in a fatty beige mass. It must have been coagulated proteins or something. If my calculations are correct, it would be about 2013 years old if it’s real. It almost made me vomit but I felt so much pity for the lady who had to sit behind it all day protecting it and looking at it. It was so disgusting.

This thing may not actually be Jesus blood. Somebody might just have whispered that it was the blood of Jesus during communion, and someone kept it one day and it developed from there as Chinese whispers.

Bruges:

London to The Hague via Dunkirk and Dover, cycling - Day 6, sightseeing in Ghent

Some photos from Ghent. It was old, medieval, and a little bit dirty. It was also quiet damp, and I got fairly wet. Riding back I just stayed under a road bridge like a tramp for a long time. Nothing else really comes to mind, except perhaps observations of a north/south European divide  - a French couple came into a trappist beer cafe, spread themselves around on the seats and settling in for the day, ordered the beer, and the beer came out without any accompaniment (as one would expect), they made a great fuss between themselves, and called the bartender over and asked if there was any bread – he looked at them blankly and gave a stern “No.” They looked shocked.

The one above is called Turkish Street because back in the olden days, the Middle East was called Turkey, and there was some kind of connection between the Middle East and this street.

London to The Hague via Dunkirk and Dover, cycling – Day 5 – Ieper to Ghent

GPS route (.gpx file) available for download here.

I remember it as  fairly easy day, but about 86 km. Almost all along quiet canal paths, and some bike paths alongside roads. The route first goes southeast to the border town of Menen. If I had remembered, I would have gone a few streets further in Menen and crossed the frontiere into France, just for the novelty of crossing a border.

I highly recommend the place that I stayed in Ghent. Actually, it was well outside of Ghent, but that’s fine. It was a cycle-friendly hostel at a village called Laarne. Had a school camp vibe to it had many dorms, and empty corridors. When I arrived there was no sign of activity, and it was all dark, and then I saw that there was an envelope on the door, with my name on it. Inside were keys to my room and a note saying 'sorry, I'm not here this week, so here are your keys', so I found my room, and then went exploring around the place and found bar, which works on an honesty system. It was quite amazing to have an entire school camp all to myself. Later that evening I discovered that there were actually other people staying there, they were part of a an amateur cycling team from around Manchester, and were basing themselves there over summer (the connection to the north of England being via the ferry to Newcastle from Zeebrugge). There’s a supermarket about 5-10 mins ride from the hostel, quite convenient.

Before going to the hostel, I headed into Ghent to look around and felt the place was rather dirty, dirtier than London. This was particularly the case because I came in from the south, through the suburbs that tourists don’t get to see. Parked my bike at the train station Gent-Dampoort, used the coin lockers to store my bags there, and then went sightseeing.

This is a picture of the grotemarkt in Menen (town square):

They have trams in Ghent, so if you're a Melbournian you know not to get your wheels stuck in the tram tracks.

London train lines that allow bikes

Which London lines allow bikes? This map shows it well.

http://oobrien.com/2014/01/the-flat-tyre-tube-map/
http://oobrien.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/flattyretubemap.png

London to The Hague via Dunkirk and Dover, cycling – Day 4 – Rest Day!

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The original plan was to have a rest day, mostly just resting in the camping ground/caravan park. But when I discovered that I was in Flanders Fields, and close to Passendale, I decided it would be interesting to visit World War I sites.

It was a stinking hot day, and very humid. Rode out 11km to Tyne Cot Commonwealth War Graves Cemetery. The surroundings were all lush and green, and it was hard to imagine them looking barren, muddy, leafless and shelled out.

Riding was all along separated cycle paths on the side of the road, with a little bit along quiet roads. Again, my GPS and sat nav came in handy. But if I had a map of the fietspoints in Flanders it would probably have been easier – unlike other countries, the intersections are marked with a number, so you travel to each intersection (compared to travelling along a numbered route). Some rain came that night, which marked the first time I took shelter, but it was only about half an hour hiding inside my tiny little tent. The camping ground/caravan park at Ieper was good in that it had wifi and hot showers (and the nearby Aldi). Went to the 8pm service at the Menin Gate again.

London to The Hague via Dunkirk and Dover, cycling - Day 3 Dover to Ieper (Ypres)

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GPS route (.gpx) available for Kingsdown to Dover ferry terminal, and Dunkirk to Ieper camping ground.

A freezing morning to wake up to in Kingsdown, and it was supposed to be August. It was an early start, with needing to ride 10km to Dover by 7am, and have first breakfast, and pack up the tent. Set the alarm for 5:15, and stayed in my sleeping bag to eat breakfast and make the coffee. It was freezing.

Once on the road, it was nice and sunny and rolling through golden wheat fields. There wasn’t a single car to be seen and the route is mostly along the main road. I hit Dover, and took the direct route to the docks. This is a mistake. The direct route takes one down hundreds of stairs, descending the cliffs, which is difficult with a loaded bicycle. It’s better to take the route through the town and on the road.

Dover docks is a mess on a bike, and probably in a car, too. It’s one of the busiest ferry terminals in the world, packed full of multiple lanes of moving trucks and cars, and some bridges. The instructions for cyclists are confusing – but you just need to follow the red line for cyclists painted on the ground, which takes you through border control. But then it takes a right bend, with inadequate signing. At that point, you depart from the cars and go towards an empty-looking booth and park your bike and a person looks at your ticket. Then you finish at the booth and move with your bike on to another building, where they also look at your ticket. Then you rejoin the rows of cars.

The idea was to have a second breakfast on the ferry, and skip lunch. It was an 8am sailing, coming in to Dunkirk at 11:30am France time. Second breakfast was had, and then I rolled off the ramp at Dunkirk, and remembered to ride on the right hand side of the road. Even though my route goes east along the coast, I went with the flow of the traffic for a bit, until it was safe to dismount and cross the road and head back. From here, it’s very quiet and easy cycling behind the dunes and along the tarmac-ed beach. They ashphalted the beach, so that now you can conveniently drive right to the water's edge (and further if you want to). I don't know what the culture is like in France, in terms of the north, but I suspect that this may be a northern thing, with a fine appreciation of industry. Entry to the town itself was via its docks and heavy industrial area, but it was all quiet cycling. The town is a fair way from the ferry terminal, perhaps 30-60 mins riding.

In Dunkirk itself, there was a statue of Winston Churchill, who for some reason is revered in that part of the world, along with Britain. They might have a statue to him in Dunkirk, but I doubt the Singaporeans would be inclined that way (or perhaps they might rightly hang him upside down).

On leaving Dunkirk I ran into a summer festival on the waterfront, with so many people around I had to get off my bike and push. Then I discovered that my GPS route was sending me through the dunes. After checking I was in the right place several times, I conceded that I programmed a bad route (a heavy bike and soft sand doesn’t work), headed to the main road and legged it to the Belgian... to get out of France.

The French food offerings at the border weren’t to my liking, so I proceeded a few hundred metres up the road to a supermarket, with the expected advantage that they were in Flanders, so would be happy with speaking English. The sign ‘Tabac. Prix belges’ should have told me. The supermarket was running a genius idea – operating in French for a French clientele, to take advantage of presumably softer Flemish law.

And it was my first experience of Belgian cycling. After not too long, I was heading down canal paths, which are so quiet in terms of traffic that they are effectively nice smooth bike paths. And on to the camping ground/caravan park in Ieper, seeing the Menin Gate. Ieper is great as a first point on the continent for a trip because there’s an Aldi just near the camping ground. But of course, being Belgium, nothing’s open on a Sunday, or potentially ever.

Sunday in Belgium:

Cadets from Essex (for the nightly service at the Menen Gate):