Trilingual

These Belgians keep talking to us in gibberish (I think they call it Flemmish), I guess the bikes make us look more local... Or no one ever visits from the US. We've seen some Ausies, but no other Americans.
But I digress... What is really cool is that if you indicate you only speak English, they say it again in English without missing a beat. This goes for questions about the time to drunken shouts as we ride past. Highly amusing. At least to me.
Our waiter in Brugge, who took a liking to Carrie after she overtipped the first night, starts by asking which of four languages we'd like to order in: Flemmish, German, French, or English. I think the Spanish people next to us had a bit of a hard time, but, hey, when someone's presented you with four options, the least you could do is struggle along in one of them.
This was also the restaurant where we discovered apple gin. Sounds weird, but it is delicious. Belgium is famous for gin, so this was in the name of cultural research. So was the ordering of the delicious spare ribs.
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Day 7: Leuven to Werchter, 10 miles

We bought tickets to a big music festival called Rock Werchter that happened to be taking place in Belgium while we planned to be there. As part of the ticket,the promoters included free train transport to the concert from anywhere in BE and free transport away. They're so green. So we took advantage of that. Instead of taking the provided shuttle from the train station in Leuven to the concert area in Werchter we biked. And there was a specially signed bike route from the train station to the concert! Which was great, because our map left something to be desired.
The concert was HUGE - 3 days, 100,000 people. We camped there for two nights. Radiohead, Kings of Leon, Gnarles BarkleyN and the Hives all gave inspired performances despite the on and off rain. Music festivals are 50% less fun in the rain. The grassy area that people reclined on in the sunshine turn into no-man's-lands of slippery mud. Many trash bags were turned into ponchos. It was still a good time.
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City skyline and rain clouds

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Wind mill

climbing up into this windmill was about the only tourist activity we did while in Brugge. It was pretty cool, actually. It was commissioned 300 years ago by a consortium of 26 bakers who needed grain ground into flour. The fairly simple design had the sails turn a giant wooden gear, and another gear can be engaged or disengaged to spin the millstone. It must be terrifying to be in that small space when those enormous creaky things are going.

Also: it started raining. Carrie and I stayed in the hostel that night, but Erica and Marc had planned to camp. They happoly reported that the waterproofing on their thent works great.
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Streets of Brugge

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Days 5 and 6: Brugge Belgium, 0 miles

We spent a couple of days in this incredible old city. The maze of skinny streets are walled in by the fortification built centuries ago. It was pretty common to see years on buidlings from the 1600's. This tower on the main square is amazingly tall. Our aching quads decided we didn't need to see the view from the top.
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Relaxing at a cafe in Brugge

After the metric century (100 km!) The day before, we relaxed and ate and drank many calories at a cool cafe's medival courtyard. This is where we began an extensive sampling of Belgium's many beers. Kwak and Brugge Zot were two favorites.
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Day 4: Schardendijke to Brugge, 64 miles

Ike touring is fun when you're rolling through flat country, but only for about 30 miles per day. 40 is a bit of work. 60 borders on a death march.
Today was also very hot. Not a cloid in the sky.
We managed to hit the road at 11 am, and rolled south through the province of Zeeland. When the feitspad was shady, it was nice. But it wasn't shady all that often. Around 3 pm I declared a rest stop (in yet another adorable town with an old fashioned windmill) and prompty took a nap inder a tree. After stocking up on water we kept heading south, thinking that if we pressed on, we could make it to Brugge before sunset. At mile 45, we had to stop for dinner (at another fine restaraunt on another town's main square - it really doesn't get old). By the time we were done with dinner, we thought we could make it to Brugge before it got really dark, if we hurried. The air was cooling off, and riding through the paths along the fields was pleasant again. Even out in the middle of nowhere we still passed local folk riding around on bicycles. So awesome.
Then Carrie got a flat. On the rear tire. Thanks in part to the double espressos after dinner, we combined forces to change that tire in record time just as the sun was setting.
We turned on the headlamps and kept on going, making it to our hostel in Brugge a minute before midnight. They were still open and happily served us four victory beers. Delicious. We all slept like rocks that night.
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The Route

We followed the westernmost road south along the water, crossing many islands and dams.
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Horses

We've seen some really handsome horses along the way. These miniature versions we're hanging out on the trail waiting for a carrot.
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Concrete bike path

Concret is so much smoother than bricks and cobblestgones. They spent big bucks paving this 2 mile stretch through a gorgeous park. It turned into woodland later... It was like mountain biking with paniers.
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These towns are too cute.

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Lunch and beer on the old town square

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One of many windmills.

Wind power: bonus.
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Day 3:'s-Gravenzande to Schardendijke, 48 miles

Today started with some aches and pains. Everyone's ass was sore. But the weather was nice, and the wind was thankfully light. We turned down the fietspad (bikepath) along the Nieuwe Waterweg channel and raced some ships heading inland.
We thought we'd cross the channel at a bridge, but the signs pointed us straight at the water near a ferry. So we took a boat. Saw some of those crazy Dutch bikers biking on the moving boat.
The ride across the island was beautiful. Through cute cute towns and grassy areas along the water. What looked like bridges on the map were actually the pride of dutch infrastructure-dams holding back the north sea. We crossed as they were releasing water into the delta - a huge amount of water spilling past. Impressive. The sugarfine white sand piles up against the leves making for fine beaches. Many folks at the beach - few in the water.
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Milling about prior to battle of the marching bands

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Day 2: Noordwijkerhuit to 's-Gravenzande, 34 miles

This started out as a good day. We broke camp and peddled around the area looking for something to eat, as we got in too late the night before to find a store. it was Sunday, and some sort of battle of the marching bands was warming up down the cobbled street from the supermarket. We rode out of town at the crack of noon to a band playing "Eye of the Tiger". Hilarity.
The route took us south along the dunes. The sky was mostly sunny and the temperature ideal. But the force of the headwind increased to something like 20 mph. Made for slow riding and short conversations. We were really happy to find a camping spot just off the bike path around 7pm.
We set up camp and rode our unburdened bikes into the unpronouncable town for a delightful dinner on the very cute town square. More bitteballen were consumed. And we all slept like rocks.

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