Covid certificate control in France, WWI landmarks along French-Belgian border, curious iguanodon story in Bernissart and many pleasant encounters along the way.
Sep 23: Rest and update day in Bray-Dunes Yesterday I arrived quite late at Camping Perroquet, right on the French-Belgian border. The reception is to the left of the driveway and to the right is a tavern that I thought belonged to the campsite. When I asked the woman at reception if it would open, she replied that she didn't know as the tavern was in Belgium. Speaking of intra-European collegiality....
Today I took a rest day to update social media and take a beach walk with my feet through the seawater to Bray-Dunes village. There was a brisk south wind, glad I didn't have to fight it yesterday.
The atmosphere on the French coast is immediately very different from ours. Apart from a few seven-storey apartment buildings at the beginning of the village, the houses along the embankment are almost all only three-storey maximum. Most date from the early 20th century, except for a few more modern outliers of five storeys. Some of these fine houses were in disrepair, which I think indicates that property developers do not (yet?) consider this region to be a boomtown. A big difference from the buildings in de Panne, which you can see from here.
Until I was six, we went on holiday to De Panne for a month every year. We then stayed in a small bungalow somewhere in the back, one of those 'gingerbread houses'. The last year we stayed in a newer flat right against the dunes. I don't remember what the dyke looked like then and whether there were any buildings. I suspect it looked like the dyke in Bray-Dunes back then. Who remembers what De Panne looked like in the early 1960s?
I went up the embankment in Bray-Dunes having a coffee and had to have my Covid-safe certificate scanned for the first time. Still weird, those checks....
And on the beach, the receding water had a clear blue “holy trinity“ left behind. Three washed-up jellyfish nicely lined up.
At 9.30pm, a helicopter flew along the coastline, presumably to intercept refugee boats leaving for England, as was the case in Folkestone two years ago. That gives a bad feeling.
Sep 24: Bray-Dunes - Ploegsteert (58.47 km - 215 m climb)
A ride along rather monotonous agricultural polder landscapes where hardly a tree was to be seen. With a brisk breeze from the front right, it was sometimes seriously 'stomp' (kicking hard).
At Alveringem I found the St Augustine's Church, a three-aisled hall church in yellow brick, worth photographing. The oldest parts of the church date from the 16th century.
A little wooden bridge over the IJzer just past Alveringem could have been a bit more bicycle-friendly. I had to go back and forth three times to get all my bazaar (baggage) about it.
I had never been in Poperinge been. I have now cycled that hole in my culture shut. The neo-Gothic town hall dates from 1906. The 15th-century St Bertinus Church is a hall church in Gothic style. Inside the church, I photographed a baroque 'entombment' from the early 1900s, with a unique composition according to monuments watch. But in need of restoration....
Like everywhere else here in the region, I passed two military WWI cemeteries. All soldiers killed in 1915.
On my way to my final destination Ploegsteert I also cycled Age in, only to happily exit it again a little later. If only it were like that in real life too ...
The final kilometres through the hill country were more captivating scenically again, and also more varied to cycle, with a moderate 210 altimeters already on the counter today.
Just before my 'Welcome to my garden' address in Ploegsteert I passed another WWI memorial designed by H. Charlton Bradshaw and dating from 1931. Every first Friday of the month, people blow the Last Post here.
I am now just across the border in Wallonia, in the province of Hainaut.
Sep 25: Ploegsteert - Tournai (64.19 km - 174 m climb)
I got off to a slow start today. I camped in the meadow of 'Welcome to my garden' host Frederick and his children were organising a party 100 metres away in the meadow. With my earplugs, I managed to fall asleep, but I did wake up much more than usual. And the party lasted until late into the night.
When I was finally ready to leave around 11:30, I first had a nice conversation with Frederik. He has an ecological vegetable garden, sheep, pigs and two cool dogs. He has a great time in Ploegsteert.
Komoot did not deliver a pleasant route today. I cycled to Tournai via intermediate stops in Menin and Rollegem to go there to deliver thank-you cards. From Komen to Rollegem, I rode along busy regional roads with mostly rickety cycle paths. Fortunately, after Rollegem it was back to farm tracks and from Pecq 8 km on the Ravel alongside the Scheldt. A Ravel that I also walked the entire length of last year. Then in the heat .....
In Menen, Erwan and his wife treated me to a glass of apple juice from their own tree. The apple tree in the picture delivered 420 kg of apples two years ago, good for 60 3-litre kegs of juice. It is now hanging well again. Next weekend it will be picked.
At Rollegem was the young couple Josephine Baele and Clément Meanwhile, not two, but three. Little dog Jeanne was already there last year, but little son Jerome was not even conceived then. Congratulations on the family expansion!
In Kain, just before Tournai, there were Pierre Tiange and Ivy Demeure and their little son and two daughters not at home. Those little kids were very excited and curious last year that someone was coming to camp in their garden with a real tent.
In Tournai, I also issued a card to Monique from B&B Maison Taherez, where I was allowed to stay at a greatly reduced rate in the beautiful Sahara room last year. And learned a lot from her about the still quite young Ba'hai religion.
Because of all these pleasant stopovers, I did not get to the city campsite of Tournai until half past midnight, where fellow bike camper Philippe from Ghent (70) treated me to a warm mug of soup and lots of stories. You couldn't wish for a warmer arrival.
Sep 26: Tournai - Bernissart (32.41 km - 67 m climb)
At the campsite of Tournai I first said goodbye to Philippe, who cycled back home (Ghent) and left a little before me.
Just past Tournai I followed the Ravel on the left bank of the river, a section I did last year on foot, until some way past Antoing, where the canal of Perulwez in the Scheldt flows. On that stretch, I read an information panel about the lime kilns of Antoing. Last year I had not stopped there because I was in a race against the rising sun. It was in the middle of the heatwave then and I had left Tournai before dawn to get ahead of the heat.
I then followed the canal until a few kilometres before Bernissart. The overgrown verge on my right side functioned as an efficient wind breaker, as I had it up front all the time (south-east wind).
Just as I drove into Bernissart, it started drizzling. Last year it had not happened because of the heat, but now I had planned a visit to the Iguanodon Museum.
By the time I left the museum, it had cleared up and I was able to pitch the tent dry at the municipal Camping du Preau, where I was allowed to stay for free because I am cycling for a good cause. Accepted with many thanks.
Next to me was a caravan and when the occupant returned from a trip, it turned out that Denise Van De Zande to be a former vice-teacher from Essen. Of course, we did have some mutual acquaintances from liberal circles. The world is small....
Sep 27: Bernissart - Villers-Sir-Nicole (55.99 km - 353 m climb)
By the time I left, it had begun to drizzle softly. First, I drove along a tarmac lane straight through the marshy nature reserve with its beautiful ponds that I had traversed at sunrise last year.
Around noon, it started pouring and blowing seriously, of course with the wind at its head. Adding to this were a few more difficult sections in the route 'Via Romana' with bumpy cobblestones. So it was pedalling and keep pedalling so as not to cool down too much.
Aline, my 'Welcome to my garden' last year's hostess in Onnezies, was not at home. I stuck a thank-you card in her mailbox and stumped (tricky pedalling) on through the rain, with some pretty steep climbs.
A few kilometres beyond Onnezies was a small working-class pub that was luckily open on Mondays. Just then it started to drash even worse, how lucky! The bartender did not pour hot drinks, a pity because that would have done well, but I apparently looked so ravenous that I was paid two soft drinks by the compassionate regulars, all of the strong sex. One of them had been a Belgian subtop athlete 20 years ago in long jump, triple jump and 100 metres. Not directly my disciplines, but we had a cool athletics chat.
After more than half an hour in the café, the rain had stopped and I was able to cycle on dry to Camping Municipal Vallée de L'Hogneau at Bellignies, to go and deliver a card to Monsieur Claude and his wife Marie-Christine. Last year, they had asked Madam Mayor if I could stay two nights for free.
Monsieur Claude saw on the map that I had also passed in Zelzate (Sonja Boelaert). He helped build the lock nearby (probably Terneuzen) in the 1970s and told the gruesome story of a worker who was still in a formwork when it was filled with concrete. Where the poor wretch was pressed against the wall of the formwork, they placed a marble tablet.
While I had a lovely coffee and photo session with Marie-Christine and Claude, the sun came through. I still needed to buy food and the only food shop (Intermarché) was in Habay, 4 km deeper into France. On foot again last year, oatmeal with pear syrup had been on the evening menu, because walking 8 km round for food was too far.
When I arrived in Villers-Sir-Nicole, I drove up the driveway at Thomas's parents' house. There was no one home, I was welcomed to the croaking and barking of watcher Germaine, the goose that some years ago washed up traumatised in the garden of Laurence and Jean-Jacques during ferocious high tides of the little river La Trouille. Since then, she has only wanted to bathe in a kiddie pool. The goose gets on well with the house's two cats.
A little later, I had just cooked and devoured a frozen portion of pasta, Mr and Mrs of the house arrived. Thomas was unfortunately on holiday for a week. Laurence and Jean-Jacques do not have a guest room, but after a delicious bowl of warm milk, I was able to spend the night there on a camp bed. What a luxury, no wet tent to pack tomorrow morning!
16 September: Opening the door at Diamondway Buddhist Centre in Tallinn The centre's meditation sessions are open
