clairedavieswriter

It’s a double bill of blogs tonight, you lucky people. Scroll down to read about the last leg of my France end-to-end. But meanwhile, my end-to-end of Belgium is already underway:

I was delighted to see that the former border post has been put to much better use. As first impressions go, a luxury chocolate shop isn’t a bad one:

Though this chip shop was also a strong contender:

Given both countries are in the EU, and there’s no longer a border to speak of, it felt like a bit of a throwback to see a row of outlets selling cut price fags

Talking of borders, no matter how many I cross, it never fails to amaze me how different one country can be from its neighbour, when they’re only separated by an arbitrary line on a map – which is itself (the map I mean) a human construct. It immediately felt so different, but not in ways I expected. Whereas yesterday I had to remind myself I was still in France, today I was having difficulty believing I wasn’t already in the Netherlands. It was mostly down to language: I had expected to see Flemish alongside French. So I was surprised not to see any French at all, and to be struggling to understand what I was reading. Sometimes I could guess from the context:

But that didn’t always work. When I saw this sign, I thought: marauding poultry? Dangerous wildfowl?

No, it turns out that wildrooster means cattle grid. To contain a flock of four legged lawn mowers – though they didn’t appear to be taking their duties very seriously

But the differences weren’t just in the language. There was an immediate change in how other cyclists behaved. In France, I’d become accustomed to a reciprocal Bonjour, usually said with a smile, sometimes a wave. From my observations today, I would say that Belgian cyclists prefer greetings to be non-verbal, if at all. I quickly learned that, at most, I might receive a barely perceptible nod, but almost never a smile. Maybe it’s just that there are so many more of them – because it’s true that there are bikes everywhere – so it just seems weird to greet other cyclists. Why are there so many? Well, take the infrastructure for a start: if I thought France was good, Belgium is on another level entirely. Separated bike paths are everywhere, and cars give way to the flow of bikes:

Though in Bruges, I found the volume and confidence of cyclists a bit intimidating after so much time on my own in rural France. No one wears helmets, they all know where they’re going, and they give no quarter to dithering visitors. I repaired to the main square for a calming hot chocolate in a cafe with a fine view

But the bulk of the day was spent beside various canals, which didn’t offer much protection from the north wind, so it was a relief when we turned east

Canalside riding isn’t very exciting, but today it was occasionally pretty

And offered some classic views with a modern twist (see why I kept thinking I was in the Netherlands?)

It was properly cold today, so this was a welcome sight in the bar I dived into to warm up in Nieupoort. I’m hoping for sunshine and a following wind for my long ride to Brussels tomorrow.