I’m on a biking holiday — first time I’ve done such a thing. Here’s a short summary of what’s happened so far:
Day 10: Eindhoven – Banneux
Bike counter settings:
| begin: | 681km |
| end: | 822km |
| · kms @ border lowlands: | 790km |
| cumulative avg: | 19.13km/hr |
| · cumul. avg before hills: | 19.36km/hr |
| route: | Aalst, Valkenswaard, Achel, now really to Achel, Bochelt, Bree, Oppitter, Neeroeteren, channel Zuidwillemsvaart to Maastricht, Moelingen, Visé Dalhem, St. Remy, Housse, Barchon, Heuseux, Micheroux, Nessonvaux, Banneux. |
A long day planned (in Google Maps, it was about 130km), so I got up early and left with my brother at 7.30. Consequently, I was in Belgium before the Aga’s of this world were at work :)
It was cold in the morning, so I wore a vest and socks in my sandals (I know this is a Capital Fashion Crime — it was cold, so fashionistas: bite me! :P). I wound my way through Flanders a bit, and crossed a channel. I pondered following it — it did seem to be headed south — but decided to stick to the planned route. A few villages on, I crossed the damn channel again. This time I checked things. It was the Zuid-willemsvaart — to the best of my knowledge, a channel that runs to (or from) Maastricht. And there was a bike lane next to it.
One and one is two, so I deviated from the planned route and went to the channel. It was far calmer (virtually no motorised traffic), nice and green, and you overtake the occasional boat. I got to Maastricht at 12:30, surprising myself. Two-thirds of the way, and in five hours! I wasn’t even terribly tired nor hungry! So I decided to have my lunch in the small part of Flanders south of the border of Maastricht. The part that valiantly struggles against the Romans, errr, the Walloons :) Had a nice chat with various Flemish folk there, and took a long break and a nice lunch. (what is it with having Sealand’s mussels there? It was plastered all over the place, both in Flanders and in Walloon… you don’t see that around Eindhoven.)
Afterwards, I biked on, figuring it wouldn’t be that far. I got to Visé in decent time, and then the uphills started. My legs informed me that it wasn’t flat any more, and my speedometer dropped dangerously close to single digits. Wow. A few of the hills along the way surprised me with their uncanny ability to keep on going up. Even if you think you spotted the end of the hill further on, the road would just curve and you were welcomed to another portion of the lengthy uphill.
At times, I wondered why Heidi wasn’t set in these nice, rolling hills. It seemed quite appropriate. And then a car would race by, trying to break the sound barrier, at about a hand’s width, and I got it.
(Or, at least, I thought I did — I just read up on Heidi on the above link and saw it doesn’t come across quite as situated in a happy and unspoiled environment as my faded memories made it out to be.)
The last uphill was, yet again, particularly daunting. I arrived around 6, and figured I could have gone on a bit, but why bother? I had done enough for one day — as my leg muscles kept telling me ;-)