OP
OP
swarm_catcher
Guru
You may hear of train service interruptions between De Panne and Brussels. All is fine for direct journeys.
Flemish NRttK
- Thread starter swarm_catcher
- Start date
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BalkanExpress
Legendary Member
- Location
- Brussels
No beer but a bit of fettling...I love the smell of ceramic lube in thr afternoon
so....setting off for St. Pancras in half an hour
dropping the bikes off at 6, then upstairs to the champagne bar
taking the 19.04, arriving Brussels at about 22.00 (Eurotime)
we've booked on the 4pm ferry back which gives us quite a cushion making our way back to Dunkerque
dropping the bikes off at 6, then upstairs to the champagne bar
taking the 19.04, arriving Brussels at about 22.00 (Eurotime)
we've booked on the 4pm ferry back which gives us quite a cushion making our way back to Dunkerque
U
User169
Guest
Laterz!!
BalkanExpress
Legendary Member
- Location
- Brussels
Back. 132km
All arrived safely in Ostend, although Agent Hilda is a bit bruised but not bloodied, and, certainly not broken after an encounter with tram lines in Gent.
Many many thanks to Swarm-Catcher for putting this together and to those who rode.
A different and fun night out on the bikes.
Full report sometime later including on some of the nicest cafes every to have their upholstery sullied by all night cyclists.
All arrived safely in Ostend, although Agent Hilda is a bit bruised but not bloodied, and, certainly not broken after an encounter with tram lines in Gent.
Many many thanks to Swarm-Catcher for putting this together and to those who rode.
A different and fun night out on the bikes.Full report sometime later including on some of the nicest cafes every to have their upholstery sullied by all night cyclists.
U
User169
Guest
Thanks to Swarm_Catcher for a superbly conceived, organized and led ride!
BalkanExpress got us smoothly out of Brussels and then it was a nice flat ride up to Gent. Agent Hilda got offed by the tram lines just outside the 24h cafe, but recovered remarkably quickly given the impressive clatter she made hitting the deck. We followed the canal to Bruges as the sun rose, had a coffee and croissant (BalkanExpress having located just about the only place open in the entire city), then followed the canal again to Oostende. By this time, the sunday riders were out in full force and we passed and were passed by lots of riders. We passed one again after a few minutes - he'd skidded on some cobbles and was nursing a sore backside. Into Oostende for breakfast and then time to head home.
BalkanExpress got us smoothly out of Brussels and then it was a nice flat ride up to Gent. Agent Hilda got offed by the tram lines just outside the 24h cafe, but recovered remarkably quickly given the impressive clatter she made hitting the deck. We followed the canal to Bruges as the sun rose, had a coffee and croissant (BalkanExpress having located just about the only place open in the entire city), then followed the canal again to Oostende. By this time, the sunday riders were out in full force and we passed and were passed by lots of riders. We passed one again after a few minutes - he'd skidded on some cobbles and was nursing a sore backside. Into Oostende for breakfast and then time to head home.
I was about to say "Where are the ride reports, then?!" Spoke to the 'Zeqqs this morning. Apparently Agent H has an impressive trophy bruise on her thigh, and DZ is... attending to it. There was a bit of complaining about cobbles and Dunkirk, and appreciative noises about dawn, breakfast, and the company. Got any pics?
U
User169
Guest
Brussels...
Breakfast...
Breakfast...
No idea what it is, but I'd give it a go...
U
User169
Guest
That was exactly the approach that Swarm_Catcher and I took! It was a very impressively wobbly lemon meringue tart.
S_C didn't hang about, by the look of the plate opposite...
U
User169
Guest
That's Agent Hilda's plate!!
mmmmartin
Random geezer
Just out of bed. Retirement and its many blessings, eh?
Great little adventure. It's worth thinking about a repeat, hence I will include details that might be useful next time but inexplicable this time.
Getting to Brussels is easy. Eurostar is pricey but quick. Slower, cheaper and adventurous way is train to Dover, ride to the ferry (newbies to Dover's road system and its several thousand huge lorries need to check this bit in exact and great detail before you go), then ferry to Dunkirk. When booking this try to get a 24 hour return for a motorbike, this is £22 but for a bicycle it is £30 return. Phone them and they might give you a return for £22 with the bicycle. Then ride the 33k from the ferry to the train station at De Panne. I had met two Belgians and they were doing the same, so this is obviously a popular trick. We had a strong following wind and a few nav upsets and it took two hours. There is a choice of routes for the first section: the traffic-free coast route along the top of a sea breakwater that avoids the industrial town and the housing and traffic, and takes you in an arc around much of the town and takes you to the shopping bit of the town, or the direct route on roads with traffic through the housing section. On the way out I went along the breakwater, which was great because there was a strong following wind. On the way back with DZ and Agent Hilda we took the more direct route because of the shelter afforded by the buildings. The distance is about the same, I think. EDIT The route along the breakwater is 500 metres shorter.
At De Panne railway station I paid €19.70 single to Brussels Central and €5 for the bike. On the train, talking to the Belges I met at Dover, I learnt you can buy a carnet of 10 tickets, each valid for a journey from any Belgian train station to any other, for €79. This could be used for 10 people on one trip, or five people going on two trips, etc. it would be a cheap way for 10 members, of perhaps, a cycling club, to go from De Panne to Brussels, for instance.....
Remember the Eurostar goes to Brussels suid, which is 10 mins on a bike from the Grande Place.
Others have said what we did, and perhaps DZ might do some of that descriptive writing at which he excels. Think warm night, straight roads, flat country, cycle path for mile after mile, good company, chewing up the distance like we were Gods Of The Cycling World. Everyone else was asleep and we owned the world. Nothing was open, apart from the occasional small hotel with pink lights and a silouette of a thin lady with no clothes on. But the car parks were empty so perhaps there were no customers. Or maybe their customers don't stay for long.
The N9 was a navigator's dream, just follow it.
Ghent was still awake and the upmarket 24 hour restaurant, complete with uniformed waitresses, clean loos, warmth, and general civilisation was lovely. This particularly because it had chosen to put itself exactly where Agent Hilda had a disagreement with the tram lines that had terrified us every time they appeared. I paid €7.50 for an enormous spag bol with ham and cheese that took ages to eat. Thoroughly recommended.
After this we followed the canal. Forget English canals with muddy towpaths and overhanging branches and tiny bridges. These were big enough for oceangoing vessels, and the towpaths were perfect tarmac with signs. DZ had the foresight to buy a good map, which saved us big distances and big embarrassment. Recommended. We left the canal at one point and went by the roads and by a chance in a million found ourselves in a village I knew well, having spent three hours trying to find the campsite. So I was full of confidence as I bravely led across the bridge and down a side road and into a trading estate before my confidence waned slightly as I couldn't remember which alleyway to ride up. I managed to conceal my total loss of faith long enough for the right alleyway to turn up and lead confidently back on to the canal path.
In Bruges we were gasping for a sitdown and a coffee and the genius of The Fridays manifested itself when one of our number (no names, no packdrill) muttered something about knowing an all-night drinking den he used to frequent and rode off to find it, to return five minutes later with the whereabouts of a fine dining establishment so posh it would have passed muster with Mice. Think afternoon teas for €19.75, think carpets, warmth, polite staff and brilliant coffee. Recommended.
After Bruges we stuck with the canal. Think orange orb of sun rising slowly out of the mist, no wind, trails of mist wandering across fields, cows in the distance, the occasional duck breaking the undisturbed water.
The Ostend breakfast stop was excellent and the staff didn't even laugh as I tried to pronounce the words for Large Breakfast.
The longest tram journey in the world may have been great but I was dozing for some of it. At De Panne we incurred the wrath of a bus driver by being impertinent enough to ask to put our bikes on his (very long and bendy and empty) bus so he could take us to Dunkirk. So we rode off into a slight headwind, me in front by far enough to make a bit of a nav error and correct it before DZ and Agent Hilda arrived. The road is straight and the nav easy, and was made easier by the fact that the local marathon was about to run along it so we sneaked past the barriers just before they closed to all traffic and no other vehicles disturbed us. In Dunkirk I accosted an unfortunate taxi driver, and after dismantling the seats in his taxi and smearing chain oil over his roof lining, we decided three bikes would not fit so he drove off. It's amazing how polite he was.
Nav to the ferry port was easy enough providing I paid attention, which was difficult as I had had no sleep and my bottom bracket was screeching like a banshee. We arrived safely at the ferry and found comfy seats where we donned non-smelly clothes and scraped the muck off our faces. The ferry journey was good and these DFDS ferries are often much less crowded than the Calais ones so I slept, stretched out, on a comfy sofa for an hour. After the convoluted ride to Dover station my odometer showed 211k, which I felt was not bad for an old fat bloke with no sleep. The best £70 I ever spent.
Many thanks to all, esp Swarmcatcher and her sister who seemed to be just as fast and experienced in milemunching. We were a good team and for an action-packed 24 hours in forrin parts, you couldn't beat it. It was certainly better than my alternative, which was to go to Wembley and watch Tunbridge Wells FC lose to some northerners.
Great little adventure. It's worth thinking about a repeat, hence I will include details that might be useful next time but inexplicable this time.
Getting to Brussels is easy. Eurostar is pricey but quick. Slower, cheaper and adventurous way is train to Dover, ride to the ferry (newbies to Dover's road system and its several thousand huge lorries need to check this bit in exact and great detail before you go), then ferry to Dunkirk. When booking this try to get a 24 hour return for a motorbike, this is £22 but for a bicycle it is £30 return. Phone them and they might give you a return for £22 with the bicycle. Then ride the 33k from the ferry to the train station at De Panne. I had met two Belgians and they were doing the same, so this is obviously a popular trick. We had a strong following wind and a few nav upsets and it took two hours. There is a choice of routes for the first section: the traffic-free coast route along the top of a sea breakwater that avoids the industrial town and the housing and traffic, and takes you in an arc around much of the town and takes you to the shopping bit of the town, or the direct route on roads with traffic through the housing section. On the way out I went along the breakwater, which was great because there was a strong following wind. On the way back with DZ and Agent Hilda we took the more direct route because of the shelter afforded by the buildings. The distance is about the same, I think. EDIT The route along the breakwater is 500 metres shorter.
At De Panne railway station I paid €19.70 single to Brussels Central and €5 for the bike. On the train, talking to the Belges I met at Dover, I learnt you can buy a carnet of 10 tickets, each valid for a journey from any Belgian train station to any other, for €79. This could be used for 10 people on one trip, or five people going on two trips, etc. it would be a cheap way for 10 members, of perhaps, a cycling club, to go from De Panne to Brussels, for instance.....
Remember the Eurostar goes to Brussels suid, which is 10 mins on a bike from the Grande Place.
Others have said what we did, and perhaps DZ might do some of that descriptive writing at which he excels. Think warm night, straight roads, flat country, cycle path for mile after mile, good company, chewing up the distance like we were Gods Of The Cycling World. Everyone else was asleep and we owned the world. Nothing was open, apart from the occasional small hotel with pink lights and a silouette of a thin lady with no clothes on. But the car parks were empty so perhaps there were no customers. Or maybe their customers don't stay for long.
The N9 was a navigator's dream, just follow it.
Ghent was still awake and the upmarket 24 hour restaurant, complete with uniformed waitresses, clean loos, warmth, and general civilisation was lovely. This particularly because it had chosen to put itself exactly where Agent Hilda had a disagreement with the tram lines that had terrified us every time they appeared. I paid €7.50 for an enormous spag bol with ham and cheese that took ages to eat. Thoroughly recommended.
After this we followed the canal. Forget English canals with muddy towpaths and overhanging branches and tiny bridges. These were big enough for oceangoing vessels, and the towpaths were perfect tarmac with signs. DZ had the foresight to buy a good map, which saved us big distances and big embarrassment. Recommended. We left the canal at one point and went by the roads and by a chance in a million found ourselves in a village I knew well, having spent three hours trying to find the campsite. So I was full of confidence as I bravely led across the bridge and down a side road and into a trading estate before my confidence waned slightly as I couldn't remember which alleyway to ride up. I managed to conceal my total loss of faith long enough for the right alleyway to turn up and lead confidently back on to the canal path.
In Bruges we were gasping for a sitdown and a coffee and the genius of The Fridays manifested itself when one of our number (no names, no packdrill) muttered something about knowing an all-night drinking den he used to frequent and rode off to find it, to return five minutes later with the whereabouts of a fine dining establishment so posh it would have passed muster with Mice. Think afternoon teas for €19.75, think carpets, warmth, polite staff and brilliant coffee. Recommended.
After Bruges we stuck with the canal. Think orange orb of sun rising slowly out of the mist, no wind, trails of mist wandering across fields, cows in the distance, the occasional duck breaking the undisturbed water.
The Ostend breakfast stop was excellent and the staff didn't even laugh as I tried to pronounce the words for Large Breakfast.
The longest tram journey in the world may have been great but I was dozing for some of it. At De Panne we incurred the wrath of a bus driver by being impertinent enough to ask to put our bikes on his (very long and bendy and empty) bus so he could take us to Dunkirk. So we rode off into a slight headwind, me in front by far enough to make a bit of a nav error and correct it before DZ and Agent Hilda arrived. The road is straight and the nav easy, and was made easier by the fact that the local marathon was about to run along it so we sneaked past the barriers just before they closed to all traffic and no other vehicles disturbed us. In Dunkirk I accosted an unfortunate taxi driver, and after dismantling the seats in his taxi and smearing chain oil over his roof lining, we decided three bikes would not fit so he drove off. It's amazing how polite he was.
Nav to the ferry port was easy enough providing I paid attention, which was difficult as I had had no sleep and my bottom bracket was screeching like a banshee. We arrived safely at the ferry and found comfy seats where we donned non-smelly clothes and scraped the muck off our faces. The ferry journey was good and these DFDS ferries are often much less crowded than the Calais ones so I slept, stretched out, on a comfy sofa for an hour. After the convoluted ride to Dover station my odometer showed 211k, which I felt was not bad for an old fat bloke with no sleep. The best £70 I ever spent.
Many thanks to all, esp Swarmcatcher and her sister who seemed to be just as fast and experienced in milemunching. We were a good team and for an action-packed 24 hours in forrin parts, you couldn't beat it. It was certainly better than my alternative, which was to go to Wembley and watch Tunbridge Wells FC lose to some northerners.