The Low Country

​THE LOW COUNTRY:

SINGING WITH SOFIE
After a week and a half, I borrow a racer from Kevin the gamekeeper next door and set off for Belgium (our next door neighbouring country almost) to go and see Sofie, Roel and Floor. I get halfway to Ipswich and get a puncture. That’s my quick journey screwed then, especially as I haven’t packed any pump or puncture repair kit. I am pushing the bike into the next village where there is a bike shop, when a van going the other way stops and offers me a lift to Ipswich and he takes me directly to a bike shop. Bonus! A snotty kid in the shop won’t lend me the tools to repair the puncture but an old lady outside gives me her old pump cos she’s just bought a new one…
I cycle to Felixstowe, and somehow find the ferry to Harwich. Typically English… no signs or information anywhere telling you where and when it crosses. Lots of lumpy middle-aged Essex people sit by the shingle next to the dockyard cranes eating ice cream. Very old fashioned, it reminds me of my grandma and a particularly English ‘It’s windy and there’s no sand, but I’m on holiday so I’ll have an ice cream with me chips, ta’ kind of thing.
Sleep not far from Hoek Van Holland.

After the ferry at Maasluis I eventually get the hang of the signs on the cycle path and zip my way through the Polders into Belgium at Vlissingen and then from there down towards Ghent.

The racer is lighter and faster than any bike I have ever ridden. I’m very fit and light myself, I’m not carrying much stuff, it’s flat and I’ve got the wind behind me slightly. By 3 pm I am not far from Ghent. I can’t believe how quickly I’ve got here – it’s about 110 kms.
I don’t know where Sofie or Roel are staying, and I don’t get how the phones work here. I pop into a cop shop for assistance and the nice policeman obligingly tells me all the phone numbers and addresses I need to know. ‘I am not really supposed to give out this kind of information, but you don’t look like a criminal to me’ he tells me. God bless big brother for once.
Seeing Sofie is lovely lovely lovely.

Sofie’s brother takes me off to join him in the delights of lift repairing. Surreal, and interesting (for a bit anyway). 

One minute I’m sailing a home-made boat to Cuba by moonlight, then the next thing I’m mending lifts in Belgium. Fantastic.
Me and Sofie go to the woods and she plays guitar and we both sing. I’ve never sung so wholeheartedly with someone else before – it’s truly amazing and liberating! Hooray for Sofie!

We visit Brugge (Sofie has an appointment with a therapy-type woman there) and then we go to Ghent. I never realised that Belgium has such beautiful towns. Really really old houses in a very medieval fairytale stylie.

I go visit Roel and Floor and we sample Belgian beers (there are more than 500 to try but we settle for three) and more local culture and the art museum. Inside the art museum is a painting of the street outside; amazingly I can still recognise the view taken by the painter, as the area has not changed that much in 400 years. Incredible.
Cycling back is tougher – the wind is against me, and I get the train from Harwich to Diss, I am too knackered and can’t be arsed to cycle the rest of the way.