From Holland to Belgium

Aug 22 -- Day 55

In the morning, we woke up to strange movements outside our tent, as though great vehicles were slowly moving past. In our early-morning stupor, we were quite confused until, "Meuhhh!" Oh, right. Cows from the adjacent field.

Why won't it stop raining?
While we had gone to bed with golden sunshine, we rose to cloudy and drippy skies. Nothing dangerous to bike through, just a steady, soaking rain. What the hey, we weren't made of sugar, and there was no sign of it letting up, so we zipped into our rainjackets and set off.

It didn't stop. All morning.

Eventually, we stopped for tea in what looked like an old man's club. The town looked like it had woken up to the rainy morning, looked sleepily out the window, and hit the snooze button. The four or five people in the pub looked like they had fallen out of the Dutch version of Cheers. We sat at the bar and ordered tea, which the barman produced perfectly à l'anglaise (with milk). His English was nearly perfect, and we marveled over how a man of his age living in a tiny town in the middle of the Netherlands could still speak English so well. I mean, most Americans our age don't speak a foreign language (and certainly not well) and most people's use of a language peters out once one has been living in a small town where that language is not natively spoken. We were impressed.

We got back on our bikes and continued onward, following the route's signs with warriness and a whole lotta trust. The path wound up and around, and sometimes we could've sworn we were going in circles, or at least polygons -- east, north, south, west. Would we ever reach Belgium? The sun was covered by a thick blanket of low-lying clouds, and our inner compasses were soon spinning in circles.

Fabulous Roadsigns for Bikes!

The landscape, as picturesque, flat and pastoral it was, soon became monotonous. All the houses looked strangely perfect. Cow, sheep, canal, cow, sheep, house, canal, cow, sheep, canal, tree, goose.... No wonder pot is legal here -- there's little else to do.

Even the sheep, who in most countries are quite skittish, we laid back. These guys didn't even want to get up off the path for us to pass:




Turn your lawn into a sweater
All that being said, we were really impressed by the fact that nearly every yard (even those in towns) seemed to have a least one or two animals grazing complacently away. What a good use of resources! Not only do they mow the lawn for you, they generate milk or eggs or even clothing for you.

Mobile Milkers
From time to time, we'd pass a cow pasture that had a strange-looking shed sitting there amongst them. We realized that, rather than herding the cows from their long and narrow strip of pasture between canals to the milk-shed, the farmers bring the milk-shed to the cows! Again, Dutch cleverness.

The friendly Dutch
We stopped in one small town for lunch. For nearly thirty minutes, we wandered around, searching for a grocery store. Our budget was a bit strapped, and we passed the green grocer's and the cheese shop (the large stacks of orange wheels seemingly emitting beacons of warm light) with curiosity and reluctance. Several people gave us directions, but still we remained lost until -- tada! -- we found it hiding behind main street. Goods in hand, we found some quiet church steps to picnic upon. Not two minutes later, a man walked up to the church and said something to us in Dutch. It's not that close enough to English to understand easily. He repeated himself in English, "In the garden, it's better," he said, directing us behind the parish hall. There, we found a little table on a patio: "You can here sit." He asked about our trip, and we explained that we were cycling and were living in France. He smiled and went back into the parish hall. Shortly afterwards, a few other men joined him, all greeting us warmly and asking about our journey. To another, we mentioned that we are Americans. We considered how we might have confused the men, who must have thought that someone had misunderstood us -- were we from France or the U.S.? Well, both. What a complex question that becomes when living abroad.

Line coming out of a cheese shop

During our search for food, we stumbled upon the train station, in front of which were curious small boxlike constructions. Joe quickly figured out -- these are parking garages for bicycles! How clever! Compact rectangles you can lock your cycle into while you're away, protecting your car from both theft and rain (of which they seem to get lots).

A Garage for your Bike!

I forgot to mention that, in Amsterdam, everyone locks up their bikes with these MASSIVE chains. We were a bit nervous locking up our bikes with our smaller-gauged cables, which, fortunately, no one was inspired to clip.

Dutch Delights
We purposefully went through Gouda, home of that delicious creamy cheese. Mmmmm.

Mmmmm...gouda!

Our other favorite: stroopwafels! Take two thin, waferlike waffles, spread some chewy caramel between them, and voilà! Really, they must put crack in them too.

Stroopwafels!

Typical Dutch Cruiser

Retro Car Culture
We stopped to snack in the town center, and we noticed huge, land yachts we hadn't seen since the U.S. Beautiful, huge classic landcruisers dating from the 1970s, these cars must cost a fortune to drive just a few kilometers, and we figured were probably a sign of wealth here.

Kinderdijk
A UNESCO World Heritage Site -- a huge series of huge windmills built 1838-1840 to move water 1.5 meters.



Really, this country must be in a love-hate relationship with water. How do they manage to do it? They have canals everywhere for transport, but, being below sea level, are at risk of being flooded at any minute.

Here, you could see the modern pump churning away -- a real Archimede's Screw!



Dordrecht
One of the coolest-looking cities we've cycled through yet. It's a shame we didn't have time to stop. I will be back!

Papendecht
Sucked. It seemed to consist of little more than a big mall with horrible piped-in music, and it didn't even have a restroom.

Bicycle helmets? Really?
We noticed that we seem to be about the only ones wearing helmets here. We've even spotted people sniggering at us. Well, really, when you cruise about on flat, bike-only paths at speeds of less than 10 mph, perhaps you don't really need one.

Not a square-inch of dry land to be found
The sun came out as we left Dordrecht (via ferry!). Ah, sweet, golden rays. We were on the edge of De Biesbosch National Park, and so we ventured in in search of a campsite for the night.

The whole place was wet. Really. We looked for nearly half an hour among the planted aspens, and to no luck.

We ended up just outside the park among some willows where, believe it or not, the land was dryer. We dove into the tent to escape the mosquitos, though it didn't take long for the wet to soak up through the tent floor.

During the night, we were awakened to flashes of lightning and crashes of thunder. "Please don't strike a tree, please don't strike a tree," I thought as the rain pummeled the tent.

This was my last night of camping.


Aug 23 -- Day 56

On to Belgium!
Our alarm woke us up to yet still more thunder and rain, so we went back to sleep until it stopped around 9 or 9:30. By then, the sun was shining and no clouds were to be seen. Joe dried the tent beyond the reach of the sheep who'd begun to graze near us, and then we continued on our way.

Let Op! Dremples!
My favorite Dutch sign.

Hondenpoep. Another great sign.
We stuck to the bike paths, which got us a little lost from time to time. Finally, with little more than a sign announcing the border, we were in Belgium! No border control, no gates, no nothin'.

Just fairtrade signs:


The bike path system (with its lovely signs for bikers) continued, but became road from time to time. Straight, straight road. From time to time a slight incline. We put away the kilometers. We got slightly lost and had to follow road signs.

Sadly, we didn't get to cycle through the fabulously appelated Bergen-Op-Zoom.

"Hi, could we couchsurf with you?"
Couchsurfing is a marvelous thing. There's this worldwide network of people who offer couches or are in search of couches, and they're all connected via the website www.couchsurfing.com. It all started with some guy who wanted to travel, but didn't want to stay in a hotel, and so he networked with his friends to find couches to sleep on. He met interesting people, and got the idea of setting up this system, which has become the couchsurfing phenomenon. We had tried to couchsurf before, but it had never worked out. Finally, we got in touch with some guys, Nils and Boris, in Antwerp, and zipped on down to meet them. www.couchsurfing.com

After cycling through the edge of Antwerp for nearly forty-five minutes, we finally found the gorgeous city center. We waited for Nils to come and find us at the Hilton Hotel, surrounded by preparations for a beer festival. Nils rolled up on his cruiser, and we all hit it off immediately. We mounted our cycles ("We don't need to wear our helmets here!")to go when

CRASH!

both my tires got caught in the rails of a tram, immobilizing my forward motion. My toes were stuck in my toe clips, so I couldn't stop myself from falling at a ninety-degree angle -- BAM. It all kind of happened in slow-motion. Pain shot up my side, and I pulled myself out from under Hygina in a bit of a daze. About seven people dropped what they were doing and immediately dashed over to see if I was alright. "Uh, English?" I said. "Do you want to sit down?" a man in a security uniform asked. "No, I just need to walk it off." A woman looked at me kindly and handed me my sunglasses. Joe gave me a much-needed hug and explained to Nils, "We've been biking for nearly two months, and this is the first time she's fallen!"

We walked a good bit before cycling through the quiet side streets to Nils' and Boris' place. Which was huge. Three floors, two cats, and a garden for four boys. Our minds quickly calculated how much a place like this would cost in Paris, and immediately stopped trying to depress ourselves. The place was warmly decorated and covered in crazy paintings (both on canvases and doors or walls) -- one of the absent roommates was a painter, and Boris, we learned, is an industrial designer. Nils introduced us to Boris, who was in his room composing experimental music on his computer. Woooowwwww. They showed us around and then left us to our own devices for the time being.

"We're so glad we came here!" we whispered to each other.

We cleaned ourselves up, and then, after we all had consulted the kitchen cabinets, decided to go out to eat something. Kebab and, that Belgian specialty, frites, washed down with that other specialty, good beer! "We think this is 5-10% meat," Nils said. So, practically suitable for vegetarians, right?

Boom chick-a-boom!
Back at the flat, we asked Boris to show us how he makes music, which he did gladly. We were all quickly sucked in to his spread of synthesizers and mixing boards ("They're old-school, but I can't get myself to throw them away."), and the various software that was ticking away on his PowerMac. He showed us the new software he'd just started tinkering with, Nodal, whose graphic interface makes the music LOOK as cool as it sounds, as the little circles and arrows blink and change colors with the progression of measures. He played some music he'd made recently, and showed us how he manipulates sounds and rhythms, stretching and layering them. Wowwwww. You can check him out at www.hetlamgods.be.

700 Beers? 700 Different Beers?
"Do you like beer?" they asked.

They then took us to this nearby bar. Small, warm and cozy on the inside, we sat down near some teenagers to déguster. The waitress brought us a giant folder listing all 700-odd beers available. Cinays, budweisers, weises, krieks, beers even dating back twenty-five years! Bottles lined the walls. The further back in the place you went, the closer you got to the walk-in fridge, and so the colder it got.

On the first round, I chose a Carolus Christmas beer and Joe had a Timmerman's Berry Beer, then we both had a La Chouffe. Mmmmm!

We talked about travel and politics. Nils had just returned from spending a month in the US and Canada ("The best part? Whale-watching off the coast of Massachusetts."), and Boris had spent quite a lot of time in South and Central America. The boys explained to us the tensions between Flemish and French Belgium, which had been sandwiched together into a country to create a buffer zone between France and Germany by the British after the Napoleonic wars. The Flemish part is wealthier and carries a bit more than its share of the country's finances, which is one point of contention. Another: the Flemish are required to learn Flemish, French and English at school, whereas the French Belgians (in their Frenchy ways) only learn French. The boys said they like being in a country where you have this meeting of two cultures, and that it has a lot of potential to be something amazing. However, the country has its fair share of extremists who want the two parts to separate, and Antwerp is home to the Flemish ultra-conservative party. "The other parties signed an agreement in the 1950s to never collaborate with this party, though, so there's no danger of it coming to power," Nils explained. Apparently, though, it was a good thing I had requested English and not French after I took my fall!

Obtainium
The boys found a lovely chair on their way home.

Aug 24 -- Day 57

We chilled with Boris and his girlfriend Anne the next morning. She's studying graphic art and illustration, and so we had a great time talking about art and music. After breakfast, we shipped out and headed towards my friends in Waterloo!

Sunny day!

Joe gets a flat on a gigantic bridge over a gigantic body of water (uh, the Rhine...):



Oh, frustration
This was my last day of biking, and boy was it hell. We were utterly spoiled by the Dutch path system, standards that the roads between Antwerp and Brussels did not live up to. Ramps up and down sidewalks had angles we had to dismount to descend and ascend; rather than smooth asphalt or concrete, paths were often jumbled squares of cement that bumped and jolted; sometimes a path would randomly end, and we'd have to backtrack a mile or two to take another way; sometimes the road was under construction and we had to bike off-trail; never again did we see our fond cycling roadsigns, either. Plus, there was a headwind. Get with the program, Belgium!

We finally made it to Brussels, which started off flat -- ooo, pretty skyscapers, ooo, NATO buildings -- and quickly became hilly. Like, big hills. We dug 'em. We'd missed topographical relief. The city was bigger than we were expecting, and we hit Friday afternoon rush hour traffic, but still managed to make our way to Waterloose Straat. We turned right onto this and cycled on and on until it led to...Waterloo!!

Victory lap down the Chaussée de Waterloo! I sprinted like I had yet to sprint, and soon my friend's building was in front of us. Samantha and the 'loo crew welcomed us warmly with a huge pasta dinner, and it felt like home.

August 25 -- Day 58

Our two-month mark! Yahoo!

Joe got to sleep on a blue velvet couch. How cool is that?

Sam, Molly, Luke, and Chris taught us about Flight of the Conchords, a fabulous show on HBO about a novelty duo act from New Zealand trying to make it in New York City. Their song "Foux de Fa Fa," about made us die with laughter: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5hrUGFhsXo

"That lady, she just makes waffles all day long??!!" Oh yes. And boy, are they delicious. "Fresh, piping, and made at the Carrefour!"

We also stocked up on our faves, stroopwafels.

That night, we had a super-yummy dinner over at Molly's, with veggies and herbs straight from the garden -- mmmmmmm!

August 26 -- Day 59

We got up early to take Sam to the car mechanic and to serve as interpreters in case she needed help explaining the problem. Her boss, our friend Kempton, came to pick us up, and on the way back, we swung by an authentic windmill. Huge, man, huge!

Later that evening, Sam took Joe and I to downtown Brussels. The city lit itself up, and we wanderered about the old buildings and public places, enticed by the smell of waffels and frites. We also saw the mannikinpis (apparently made after the likeness of some small boy who decided to wee in a rather posh place) and the vonikapis (the girl's version, made in the 1980s).




Dinner: mussels and fries, mmmmm!
After dinner: again, more beer. Sam took us to the Delirium, which had about a million beers on tap. Oh, so good.



Back at home, we watched part of Hot Fuzz, a fantastic cop spoof made by the same guys who brought you Shaun of the Dead. Oh, to be seen!

We wished farewell to Chris, Molly, and Luke, who were headed to Valencia, Spain, to take part in the world's largest tomato fight. Craziness that we love!

August 27 -- Day 60

After our last breakfast of croissants and chocolate pain (oh, really, pains au chocolat), Joe and I parted ways. I decided to stay longer in the 'loo while Joe biked back to Paris. It was sad, and I wanted to finish the trip by bike, but I would be leaving Europe and my friends in a week, and wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. And thus, the HASPB had come to an end. Our glorious trek together was over. And what a trek it was!

From this point on, I don't know exactly what Joe did, but can recount that he pushed himself hard, and even made it back to Paris before I did, though exhausted!

I visited with Sam for a few more days, and got to see nearby Louvain, the ancient university dating back to the 1300s that trained minds like Erasmus. While there, I visited the ancient Beguinages, which were small, self-contained communities of nun-like women (I say nun-like because they weren't exactly nuns) who wanted to keep their own property and govern themselves after their husbands had died (dating from 13 c. - 20 c.), and met a local artist worth mentioning (Antoon Verbeeck), whose series "Lonely Subjects" is definitely worth a look at (www.antoon.be). I also spied in town a sign for our old bike route, and reminisced.

August 23 -- Day 61

I found that I couldn't get Hygina on the trains back to Paris, so I had to wish my companion farewell in Waterloo. Sam is taking care of her for me. It's just a bicycle, but I will miss her.

The 'loo crew wished me goodbye at the train station, and I was going back to Paris...