Head Out On The Highway

Lille

in Lille - on 17:06

The hotel in Ghent didn't have breakfast included so we took it in a little coffee bar round the corner. And very nice it was too.

An easy 50 miles' ride to Lille to find again that we couldn't check in until 3.00, so we ambled into town to get a sandwich and a beer.

Lille doesn't have the cuteness of Bruges and is a large city - the largest in Northern France, so I suppose that is to be expected.

There is a scruffy air to the place, and a noticeable homeless community here. As a tourist it colours your view of the place. Not that it's intrusive, just that there's not a lot you can do about it - when we leave, they'll still be there.

Which makes all of our eating and drinking a little unpalatable. Not that it stopped us. :-(

We popped into La Capsule, an artisan beer bar and had a couple there, wandering later into La Veranda, Lille's most concealed restaurant, to have arguably the best meal of our trip.

Yvonne slightly worse for wear after Trappist beer and a bottle of wine...

Back to the hotel for an early night before the 400 mile ride back home tomorrow.

Ghent

- on 21:21

I suppose one of the biggest mistakes of travelling is to make snap judgements about a place.

After a pretty horrendous 30 miles of concrete roads from Bruges we turned up in Ghent, only to be shooed away by the hotel receptionist because we were too early for our room.

We dutifully sat in a cafe for an hour and a half and try to check in again this time only to be told that the room key had been lost...!

Anyway we got a room overlooking the castle which is alright, and overlooking the tramlines which isn't alright.

Our first day in Ghent was pretty grim because the weather was cold, and my feet were sore, as my darling wife had forced me to to wear some outrageous shoes for the trip. They look like the sort of shoes Hannibal Lecter would have fashioned from the skins of his victims, and are VERY uncomfortable.

One of the highlights of our first day was visiting the St Baaf's cathedral to see the Adoration of the Mystic Lamb by Jan Van Eyck.

I've no idea whether he was smacked off his tits on the medieval equivalent of methamphetamine, but the bizarre religious symbology and metaphors were a little freaky. Doubtless all the religious types out there will love it to death, and I like to adore a lamb as much as the next man, but I wouldn't have it on the wall Chez Nous.

More in keeping with our style was the mobile bar for stag parties. At some point during the day they would be so anaesthetised that they wouldn't be able to pedal any more...

The next day was much better - the sun came out, my feet were only mildly crippling and we had breakfast out followed by a trip to the Design Museum, which was far too stylish for us.

Me and my shadow.. And in case you're wondering, No, Yvonne doesn't have a small flamingo in her pocket...

Yet more beer - 11% this time...

In the afternoon 25,000 supporters of KAA Ghent turned up to welcome their team back to the town after winning a Belgian EUFA Championship, or something like that...

So in the style of a mediaeval fairytale, eventually Ghent turned out to be a pretty nice place after all, and we all lived happily ever after...

Bruges by day

- on 11:17

Today was supposed to be an easy day.

Brief potter round Bruges - coffee, cake and Trappist beer, in that order.

Ah, well, the best laid plans of mice and men...

Anyway, everything we saw the last time we visited Bruges we have seen again, plus a load of new stuff.

Arty-nudy fountain...

Bruges' answer to Safestyle Windows...

(I said, you buy one, you get one free...!)

No boat trip for us this time.

Yvonne has no idea what is in store at The Beer Wall...

Lazy hour by the canal with a Trappist beer or two...

Probably one of the weirdest things to stick in a Gents' loo... Poor fish...

Iconic Bruges

Arty tree house installation kept us guessing what size of birds would have live in them...

Flemish Stew night...!

All in, a top day. Knackering, but a load of fun.

In Bruges...

- on 17:54

A quick post board-meeting blast down to Farnborough to meet up with Yvonne's cousin, Lynne, as she's having to cope with her seriously ill husband, Mick. Doesn't look good, sadly, and is a very sombre reminder to Carpe Diem - "Seize The Carp...!"

Onward for the remaining 99 miles to Dover, turning up at gone 9.00, making nearly 340 miles in a day. Had a great night at the Premier Inn in Dover, and surprisingly for an advert, everything Lenny Henry says is true!

The next day we dutifully turned up at the ferry terminal and Yvonne tried desperately to diguise her hamster cheeks with a grin as we waited in the queue along with the entire Herefordshire Hell's Angels chapter. Nice lads, but mostly overweight balding firemen, clad in Sturgess-esque leather waistcoats and matching bandanas. Suspect they didn't have a dressing-up box when they were young...

It's been so long since we went on the Dover - Calais route we'd forgotten you could actually see the coast of France from England.

Once abroad, we tootled through the backroads of Northern France and into La Belgie through countless chocolate box lid villages.

Along the way, I decided to revisit one of the holiday spots of my very early youth. When I was around 13 we visited De Haan as a family and I imagined that it would bring back some of my earliest recollections. Not a hope - never go back....

Once in Brugge we headed for the nearest bar and restaurant and whiled a way a handful of hours drinking a selection of fantastical beers...

And so to bed...

Bilbao - last day

- on 19:37

Not a great deal to report on our last day.

Popped into IKEA for a coffee to kill time before the sailing.

And ride the scenic route back to the port, spotting the Transporter bridge along the way.

Pamplona to Bilbao

- on 21:02

Not much to report for the last leg of the trip - 85 miles of B-road that ran parallel to the motorway, yet winded and twisted infuriatingly back and forth without interest, so much so that we eventually

gave in and blasted the final 40 miles on the motorway

The hotel in Bilbao is quirky, albeit with a very black and white theme. Somewhat Nightmare before Christmas-ish.

Decided to trawl around the old-town but it was too hot so we trawled the shopping street and ended up in El Corte Ingles for a coffee.

More pinchos and vino, as we spent three and a half hours sat in the street.

Cheeky nightcap in the hotel bar.

Biarritz to Pamplona

- on 21:10

Note to Self:

ALWAYS book a hotel with air conditioning, no matter how much extra it costs.

Suffered an endless night of drunken debauched teens shouting and screaming, and mopeds ring-a-ding-dinging - all because we couldn't shut the bloody windows because it was too hot...

Never mind, wide awake at four o'clock gives you a unique opportunity to lie in bed and brush up on your Spanish language book.

Still, morning dawned eventually and we checked out, and took breakfast at a combination bakery/coffee shop en route.

We (I) decided last minute to change route and head to St Jean Pied de Porte, and pick up the N-215 across the Pyrenees - perfect!