Europe is especially great when viewed from a bike, because you notice all these little cultural and climatological boundaries as you pass them. I'll go through the last week with you:
Tuesday around 08:15 I left in Didam. My father rode with me to the ferry in Millingen aan de Rijn, where I crossed the Rhine at 9:00. By 10:00 I had crossed two international boundaries, by 11:00 I had been in three Dutch provinces, and around 16:30 I reached the Belgian border in Stramproy:
On Wednesday I rode from Opglabbeek in Flanders to Malonne, in Wallonia next to Namur. I noticed that after the Genk / Hasselt conurbation, the countryside was no longer the Dutch suburbanized countryside where every "village" still has multiple supermarkets and planned residential areas. I was riding through small villages of no more than an old church and a few old farms, many of which many were the typical quadrants with an open space in the middle and a huge gate to get there. I thought I would be in France by Thursday night, so I had dinner in a true Belgian friture in downtown Namur.
On Thursday, the rich villages of the Haspengouw (Hesbaye for the Frenchies) gave way to poorer, amorphous villages in the area south of the Sambre river. The landscape was hilly, and it rained a lot, so I did not make as much progress as I expected. I reached Chimay, the town famous for the trappist beer. They are so proud of the beer they mention it on their street signs:
I find this kind of situation funny, because it shows how all the current European unification attempts follow a period of organized de-unification. Some two centuries ago, that road on the photo was just the road between two adjacent villages, namely Forges (in Belgium) and Signy-le-Petit (in France). The peasant population probably cared little about the border and freely attended fairs and markets across the border, using this road.
Then came the age of nationalism. Border controls were set up and enforced, and both sides got alienated from each other. The road was not considered worthy of a border checkpoint and was left unmaintained.
Nowadays there are probably EU-sponsored school exchanges to Estonia and city twinnings with towns in Spain or wherever, but the road to the next village is still deteriorating further.
I took a small detour to a real border crossing and immediately after that had my first flat tire. Later that day, the hilly landscape of tree-ridden pastures changed into the typical bellowing plains with endless wheat, potato and maize fields of Northern France. I had a nasty headwind in the afternoon. There was a kind of grain silo on a hilltop in the distance that I was riding to, and I pedaled hard to see it clearer. After a while, it looked more like a bunch of aparment buildings, and an hour later again, it looked like a medieval city. In the end it turned out to be the five-tower catherdral of Laon, dominating the surroundings from a freestanding hill.
Because I was a bit dissatisfied with my progress and in the morning, I rode on until about 19:30. By this time I reached the campsite of the Lac de Monampteuil, about 15 km south of Laon. The campsite looked deserted and the reception was closed even though it should be opened according to the opening hours note. Happily a friendly camper turned up who explained that the owner was away, and we managed to have a conversation about cycling with me despite my poor French.
He, and many other people I met, definitely disprove the Dutch saying that "France is a beautiful country. Sadly it's inhabited by the French". French people really do appreciate your knowledge of their language even if it's not perfect, and happily help you make yourself understood. Add to that the fact that they also sell delicious fresh-baked bread 7 days a week in any village, and you understand that I like them a lot actually.
On Saturday, the rainclouds finally disappeared and I had a beautiful ride along quiet, tree-lined roads from one village to the next. I saw the first vineyards in the Marne valley which I crossed at Charly-sur-Marne in the Champagne area.
On Sunday, I saw the first field of sunflowers and accidentally passed by a huge palace called Vaux-le-Vicomte:
By the way, I want to thank Textkernel for the multi-fuel stove. It's an amazing toy for big boys! You have to play with dangerous chemicals, apply great force to put them under pressure, and then risk explosions and bursts of flame when you light it. Also it takes some mechanical intuiton to get the pressure just right for a blue and hot flame. Here is a picture of the stove in action in Saint-Cyr-sur-Morin:
My cycle-touring cuisine is pasta, beans or rice cooked with some fresh vegetables and sauce from a can. I can prepare such combinations with only one pan and a plate that also serves as cutting board and lid for the pan. After 100 km of riding it tastes like an award-winning dinner anyway!
Then, finally, maps of the route. The dynamo hub does not give enough power to track everything. The maps below are created by connecting the points where I used the phone for navigation. That means they are a bit sketchy (and that the daily distances are underestimated :)). The first day is pretty much exact except for the forgotten first few kilometres.
Find more Bike Ride in Didam, Netherlands
Find more Bike Ride in Maaseik, Belgium
Find more Bike Ride in Bilzen, Belgium
Find more Bike Ride in Namur, Belgium
Find more Bike Ride in Chimay, Belgium
Find more Bike Ride in Pargny-Filain, France
Find more Bike Ride in Saint-Cyr-Sur-Morin, France
I decided that Melun is a bit small for a day-of-rest town. There is no hostel and no local bike shop (according to the campsite maintainer, all bike shops in the city quit after two Decathlon stores appeared on the outskirts). So I'll try to reach Bordeaux by next week Sunday or Monday and then have a day of rest there. I hope I'll have a similarly positive message for you then!
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