Day 8 Ghent to Warve

Saturday June 17th

On the spur of the moment I decided that I didn't need to visit the centre of Ghent again and instead, very much against my plan, decided to head for Brussels.

There was an obvious army presence

I couldn't see any obviously good ways to go so I took the direct route the RN 9. The  cycle path alongside was poor by Dutch standards but then all cycle paths are poor by Dutch standards.

I bowled along at a fair speed and made the outskirts of Brussels by 13.30. My route took me through Molenbeek, the area that was in the news when the Paris bombs went off.

Nothing but headscarves for half an hour!
 Brussels is most definitely not white!

Although I was happy to discover when I stopped to buy water that they speak French. At last I can ask for directions and understand the answer.

Wow!

I continued right into the centre where I attempted to see the sights in an hour or two.
Little did I expect that I would see them twice more as I circled the centre trying to find the way out.

The basic problem was that I wanted to go SE towards Namur and I kept  being  directed to the "porte de Namur" which for some strange reason was NW and nowhere near where I wanted to go.

Brussels is impressive

I asked taxi drivers  but they just shook their heads in sympathy and said it was complicated. I knew that!

Eventually stopped at traffic lights and feeling a bit forlorn I asked a fellow cyclist. I was delighted to hear the magic words "suivez moi" follow me!

Joel

He set off at a pace I couldn't match but he soon realised that I was fine on the flat  but very slow up the hills and he altered his pace to match  mine. Joel was a thoroughly good guy who offered his garden for my tent and a "warmshower" and a meal. Heaven.

His house was in the country on the edge of Warve about 25 kms out of Brussels but in a different world. The house was "not Buckingham Palace " in his words and was pretty ramshackle. Joel shared with Benjamin a bicycle mechanic and Roman a computer whiz but none had heard of a hoover or cleaning materials.

However the warmth of the welcome cut through everything and we shared a happy interesting evening. Joel prepared a BBQ and Benjamin shopped for the meal. I insisted on paying my share but I am sure the ten euros didn't cover it.

Joel's campsite

I slept well and after a brief hand shake and warm goodbyes I was on the road to Namur.


I tried to explain the meaning of serendipity but neither Joel nor Benjamin could find the "mot juste"

Maybe it is serendipity.