Belgium to Luxembourg

 Ypres, Belgium to Esch-sur-Sûre, Luxembourg

Circa 210 miles / 335 km

There were a lot of bleary eyes on the campsite the next morning, and friendships were formed over coffee. The chap below was smuggling meat from the UK into Europe. Strange but true.

The Friday we arrived was a public holiday in Europe, and the only places you could get petrol were self-service stations. They hold €200 while you refuel, and unfortunately it took me four attempts to fill the tank. €800 on hold. Buffoon.

In the morning, we traversed the straight roads through Belgium, reminiscent of France. 

The roundabouts break up the monotony and are suitably adorned with eye candy. Respect to the road planners.

In the afternoon came the first “wow” moment as we rolled into Dinant, an ancient town set on the bank of a river, with a castle atop a hill and a huge cathedral dominating the town beneath. Sarah kept referring to the church as a mosque, and this morning I caught her “stretching” her back in a pose that looked more like Muslim prayer than Pilates. I do wonder…

Dinant is quite a sight, and fortuitously there’s motorbike parking next to the attractions and restaurants. I lost a glove, walked the town looking for it, sweating like the guilty in my gear, only to find it had fallen into the bike later on.

Above and below, the road out of Dinant. 

We moved on heading towards Luxembourg, which surprised with it's lush green rolling landscapes. Neither of us had been here before

...somewhere out there

Home tonight is High Chapparal,at Esch sur Sure, the village is medieval and set on the bank of Sure river. Pretty as a picture.(below)

High Chapparal is a biker hangout popular on the Netherlands biker scene. Similar to Moto Le Grange in France in terms of clientele, but different in that it’s a bona fide bar and restaurant, serving huge racks of ribs and cold, cheap beer. A great find, owned by the same long haired, tattooed, bad ass biker, Dutch man for 30 years. 

We arrived and pitched up next to a crowd on the bank of the river, immediately drawing their attention. I became the entertainment as I clumsily attempted to erect the tarp for the first time. In the end, they could bear my lack of knot knowledge no longer and instead just took over. So on this night, camp was set up by the Netherlands’ Hells Angels.