Antwerp

I am trying to remember the cycle to Antwerp but we have cycled so much and now that I am in The Hague, it seems like it was moons ago! Ah yes, Brussels to Antwerp was fairly uneventful. 30miles in the sunshine, through small Belgium towns. When we arrived in Antwerp, we were so excitable, this place was gorgeous! There was an absolutely beautiful sunset over the river, so he first stop was a picture in front of a bright pink, orange and dusky purple backdrop. Then, directly in front of us was a kingly cathedral overlooking the whole of Antwerp with a proud dominance. We headed for that direction and quickly noticed Antwerp was quietly rich and a luxurious place. Ferraris and porches rolled around, yet no where had a boastful air to it... It's hard to put in to words, but if you wanted to get a feel of the city then I suppose that's something worth noting. After a meal in the square, we started towards our hostel, which was the complete opposite of quiet luxury. It was a really hippy vibed hostel. The front room - it felt that homely!- had wicker chairs, low lights, dusty ornaments and a couple of sofas. Oddly there were two armless full mannequins nailed to the wall...

The room we stayed in had 14 beds in, and that was just one room of three floors in this old rickety house. The breakfast was really nice there, the lady put on a typical spread of cold meats, cheese, bread and a selection of spreads with coffee and juices - I've really grown to like a jam sandwich and a coffee in the morning! So yes, that was the hostel. Unfortunately, we couldn't stay in Antwerp that long (sad face) as we had to set out for the long cycle to Rotterdam. The more we told people about our cycle to Rotterdam the more unsure we felt ... A shocked 'Oh! Good luck' usually followed! But it was forecasted for 19 degree Celsius and boy it didn't disappoint!

Bruges

Bruges is looooovely! ~ Samuel Stokes 2014.

Sam summed it up nicely, Bruges really was lovely! In a city where bikes are left unchained and parked up outside cafés, shops and parks, and where at night the cobbled streets are only trodden on by couples taking romantic strolls, quiet tourists and friendly drunks, I think it's safe to say  we fell in love with bruges quiet quickly. 

We spent the evening sipping on peach flavoured beer for me, and Duval for Sam in the hostels bar. Perfect way to spend the evening after wandering around the winding streets. 

We took a relaxed approach to the cycle the next morning, it was nice not to feel any pressure, and so when a lovely man suggested we take an alternative and more picturesque route we thought 'why not?!'. It wasn't until we were meandering through remote Belgium towns that we realised we were very lost! It didn't matter though as the weather was glorious and the views were beautiful. It also helped that we were kick ass at navigation so made it to Ghent in good time. Ghent was a city we rather unjustly judged - I mean, the name in itself is enough to put you off, right?! But it was so cool! It was a city mixed with historic buildings and a young city vibe. We made it in to Ghent at 430 and restricted ourself to half an hour break. Whilst we munched on home made sandwiches, people headed towards the river to soak up the rays and drink ice cold beer. We were so jealous - we had over half of our journey to go - rather reluctantly we headed for the WORST leg of the journey. EVER. It was horrendous. Time went slowly, it felt as though we weren't making any distance, my legs hurt, Sams tooth aches and by the time we reached our checkpoints the air around us was blue and we were cursing Assalt and Asse - where was Brussels!! Anyway, without dwelling on that dark patch, we reached hostel at around 10 and collapsed into a slumber.

Loon-plage

Loon-Plage.

Earlier I mentioned that we didn't actually dock in Dunkirk. We landed in the ports next to the village of Loon-Plage. This ended up adding a further 9 miles to our journey and we cycled a total of nine hours (including rest stops). Dunkirk to the Belgium boarder was pretty uneventful, we peddled hard in the sunshine. Oh yeah, there was that time when I had to use a shady looking gambling cafe to use the toilet, I felt obliged to sit down and gulp a coke down in front of several looming men, let's just say I didn't stay too long! 

When we reached the Belgium boarder, after a quick pose in front f the boarder sign we cycled through and instantly fell in love with Belgium. It's clean, most people smile, it's uber cycle friendly and their architecture kept us entertained throughout.

To begin with we cycled along the beach path, watching people play on the beach... In March, what luxury! Eventually it was too busy for us to cycle along, so we headed for the roads where we were beeped at by the tram soooo we headed to the bigger roads and cycled straight for Bruges. The last leg of this trip took us along a tranquil canal route, where the only sounds that could be heard were the singing birds, crickets and Sam moaning. Actually, to be fair we were both pretty sore at this point but the natural beauty of the sunset and nature kept us merry until we reached the quiet centre of Bruges.

Dunkirk.

Dunkirk.

What's funnier than catching a ferry to Dunkirk that doesn't actually dock in Dunkirk? Having to find your way in the dark to the hotel you've booked, in Dunkirk!

Okay, well thankfully it actually wasn't too far away from the port- we only got lost once, and once we did get there, we received a complementary drink! I think that was because we tried to phone up earlier and my poor, poor French couldn't stretch far enough to say we were lost and would have a late check in... I really wish I'd paid attention during French class!

After a refreshing shower and falling captive to a silent French film, we fell asleep, resting our heads in preparation for the cycle the next day!

Dover

Dover.

Dover was very exiting to go through, well perhaps not the town, but the ferry boarding and the jacket potato seem worth mentioning! After cycling for what seemed like an eternity, we finally reached Dover via a beautiful down hill cycle all the way to the port. We decided to stop of at Dickens corner cafe where the staff were so hospitable and the food was wolfed down in one. We then took a gentle cycle down the beach front, going slow enough to admire the vast harbour and the glittering sea - it was a sunny day and we were excited to board the ship! 

Getting on to the ship was smooth rollings. We were the first to board and the last to get off, it was quite funny because our little bikes were secured on to the ship with huge rusty chains, over shadowed by rows upon rows of big industrious lorries. After that fun, we wandered upstairs and took a seat by the window and left the dock just in time to see the sun set over England.

'It looked like you were having a nice sleep' I said to the smiley young woman in the corner.

'Yeah, I got straight on the ship and knew I had two hours until France, so made the most of it; I've just come back from Dubai' her accent was English but had a subtle hint of French, her name was Naomi and she was the first friend we'd made on out travels

By this point Naomi had taken a seat next to me and Sam and the conversation started to flow.

'I've just knocked back two espressos, think that should be enough to hold me through the hour drive to Lille'

'Lille?' I asked.

'It's a beautiful French city, that gets missed by most people. It's actually near the Belgium boarder, here is my number and if you want to make a detour that way, I will put you up for the night'.

That's one of the negatives of booking your accommodation in advance; on the one hand it gives you the security of somewhere to stay, yet on the other it prevents total freedom when traveling. Catch 22? Anyway, we never did get to meet up with Naomi again, and if you read on, you'll find out why!

Cycling in London

London. 

Exhilarating cycling and bastarding pot holes.

Sandwiched between busses and beeped at by cars and don't think the pedestrians won't have their say!

Red light, amber light, go.

It actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be to cycle through London and the worse bit really were those pot holes. 4 inches deep in some places and with only a millimetre of lycra between your pride and joy and the seat you're on, you tend to feel every single bloody unavoidable pot hole. You have to be brave and focused when cycling in London; great preparation for what was about to come in Belgium.