We left the campground around 10:30 to find a place to watch tomorrow’s race from – it poured rain almost the whole way. The first half of the race is pretty ordinary – going from Liege down to Bastogne with only one climb. The return trip to Liege is much more interesting – there are 10 categorized climbs and we headed to an area that has 3 of them within about 20 miles.

As soon as we reached to town of Vielsalm we started to see the race arrows so we just followed them. The second climb seemed promising as there was a small town just past the crest and there was even a paved parking area within easy walking distance. Since we were so close to the third climb we kept going so we could have a look at the stele to Eddy Merckx that is at the top – he won this race a record 5 times.

We had started to pass sportif riders now and then along the way, and the road was getting thick with them by the time we reached the town of Stavelot, which is the start of the climb. We started up the hill but turned back after only a short way – the road is extremely narrow and the sportif riders were in the way.

We drove back down and through the town, stopped for gas, then pulled over in front of another memorial. This one is to the miners, by which they mean the brave men who went and found and defused the land mines that the Germans planted everywhere as they retreated.

We pondered continuing to follow the race route to the next climb, but decided instead to go up to the Merckx stele on the road the race will come on. Still dodging sportif riders that were coming down we made it up after only one wrong turn. The view from the top is spectacular – you can see the town of Stavelot down below.

The stele is really neat and I’m very glad we made the effort to get to it. We actually parked on the side of the road and thought we might stay there for the race.

As we ate lunch we saw that more and more sportif riders were arriving – and we spent the next couple of hours marvelling at how stupid some of them were.

Many of them were stopping, of course, to see the stele, and they were just standing in the middle of the road even as cars were trying to pass by – the roads aren’t closed during sportifs, and there was no course marshall there or anything. Other riders that didn’t stop turned the sharp corner to the road down without even looking for oncoming traffic – I was sure one of them was going to get run over. And one stupid guy actually leaned his bike against Eddy’s on the stele, thinking maybe it would make an interesting selfie or something – Colin told him have some respect and move it.

Then there were the stupid drivers that were waiting for someone that was riding up – they could all use some parking lessons. One ignorant asshole actually parked right in the middle of the road – when I opened the campervan door and shouted at him to move he argued with me ‘cars can still get by’ and refused to move. Colin eventually had to go over to his window and explain that it was an open public road and he must move. I thought for a minute that Colin might get hit in the face but the jerk just wound up his window – he did end up moving, but was still half on the road.

The local people must just hate events like this, although we were surprised by their restraint in not honking and cursing as much as I would have. The stupidness of so many riders made me embarrassed and I decided I might have to email the organizers of the event to express my overall displeasure. I’ve seen many sportifs now and have several times been annoyed by the clogged roads, but never this disgusted.

I also wasn’t impressed with the garbage – many riders tried to hit the garbage can that was right there, but others didn’t bother. I went out with a large black bag and picked up a bunch of discarded gel wrappers, etc and put the bag next to the can.

And finally, what impressed me the least, was all the pissing that was going on. Riders stopping on the side of the road – at least they weren’t in the middle, small blessing I guess – pulling out their ‘equipment’ and letting loose a stream. It’s not just dogs that do that!

We decided we didn’t want to stay in that spot after all so once the throngs of sportif riders had thinned out a bit we went back down to Stavelot and re-traced the route back to the town of Wanne that is just past the one climb.

We tried out a couple of different places on the side of the road but weren’t satisfied. During this time we kept seeing vintage sports cars whizzing by – a nearby photographer confirmed that there was a rally happening. It seemed to mostly be beautiful old Porches, but there were also other makes.

We ended up back at the parking area at the end of the village. The rain had come and gone a few times, even hailing for a bit. Then, of course, the rainbow came.

We walked over to a lovely restaurant thinking to have a nice meal to celebrate Colin’s birthday which is tomorrow, but they were fully booked.

Across the road was a nice park area that has a small memorial to the 517th Parachute Regimental Combat Team USA, and there’s also a museum that’s open twice a week.

We’re right across the road from a lovely field full of sheep and a couple of horses – not a bad spot at all.

Another blustery morning with grey skies – we drove down to Bastogne so Colin could visit the war museum. Much of the drive down is on the route for Sunday’s race – they go just into the city before circling around and going back north to Liege on a different road.

As you near the city there’s more than one war memorial, and several old rusted tanks, etc. There’s also a really neat array of sculptured cyclists in one of the large roundabouts paying tribute to the race – it’s the oldest one on the calendar going back to 1892.

The war museum was actually on the race route just at the northeast end of the town. We parked and had lunch, then Colin went on into the museum – I didn’t think I could handle it so took Mo for an outside tour of the memorial to the Americans.

On the way to the memorial, just outside the entrance to the museum, was an art display. It was made of paintings that were all done on pieces of the actual Berlin Wall – it was very moving, and seemed to be a very apt place to have it.

As you approach the memorial there’s a large sculpture of the photo of the sailor kissing the nurse.

The memorial was very beautiful and emotional – I might as well have gone into the museum as I had tears streaming down my face almost the whole time (although almost hidden by my movie star sunglasses).

It’s built in the shape of a five pointed star and on the outside panels are the names of the various American regiments, etc, who participated in this area, and on the inside of each pillar is the story of what happened.

Along the top on the outside are the names of all of the states, although they seemed to have a bit of a problem with the order of a couple of them.

One kind of amusing part was getting up to the top viewing area – there was a set of circular stairs that were very narrow and I was just about as freaked out by them as poor little Mo was. I almost had to stop and pick her up but wondered who would pick me up – luckily we reached the top unscathed.

There wasn’t really much to see from up there, except that at the end of each point of the star there was a placque with a map of the countryside in front and what had happened there.

The trip down the spiral stairs was easier than the trip up for both Mo and myself. We then walked just a little ways down to ‘the Crypt’ that Mo didn’t like at all. She was fine going down the stairs but didn’t like the inside – she pulled furiously at the lead and started barking as soon as we went inside so we didn’t stay long.

We walked back up and took another look at the art exhibit, then headed back to the campervan to wait for Colin to finish his museum tour.

I encouraged him to take a look at the memorial and crypt, so we all went back down to the outdoor cafe so Mo and I could wait while he had a look around. The chairs were all chained to the tables, but there was a couple at the end that called out to us – their chairs were unchained and they asked if we wanted to join them.

They were Dutch and had just come down for a long weekend – the fact that the race was going to go by was a bonus for them, as they also knew a lot about the races. They spoke english very well – as most dutch people do – and were nice to talk with for awhile.

While Mo and I sat and nursed a glass of wine – ok it was me, not Mo – Colin had a walk around up and down the memorial and to the crypt.

On the way back to the campground we stopped in La Roche-de-Ardenne so I could have a closer look at the ‘sculpture park’ we’d seen next to the river. Once again the theme had something to do with the war, but none of the placques were in english.

Mo and I walked all around and did enjoy the sculptures, and although they were a bit on the obscure side the place was very peaceful and beautiful.

We’d arrived last evening to a campground just outside the town of La Roche-en-Ardenne after the office had closed but a fellow had let us through the gate and told us to register in the morning.

The campground is right on a very pretty river that has a large berm – meant to keep floods at bay – and it’s a nice walk along the top, with the odd bench here and there. The weather changed completely more than once throughout the morning – clouds, sun, rain – but always windy.

Later in the afternoon we drove into the town – it’s very pretty, but I guess was almost completely rebuilt after WWII.

There is more than one US tank on display, and a fairly large war museum, as well as the usual memorial.

This area was heavily bombed by the Americans in the war to force the Germans to flee, and the town was a very important river crossing location during the Battle of the Bulge.

Many of the roads in the city centre are pedestrian friendly so walking around was quite relaxing – there are sculptures and artwork all over the place.

We stopped at a nice cafe/bar near one of the squares for a drink and waiting for the rain to diminish a bit.

As we passed the war museum the fellow was just about to take in the outside sign but waited a moment so I could take a photo of it. The town before the war in the top left corner and then the after – not much was left.

But they did a great job rebuilding, and the place seems prosperous and busy enough even on a rainy day in April.

Quite a few more campervans had arrived last night, and more joined throughout the morning. The day was sunny but with very gusty winds.

We put up our flags and went for a nice walk. The cafe across from the park was actually open so we went in for a coffee.

I’ve never been served coffee this way before – we each had our own mini ‘percolator’ on top of our cups and had to wait for it to drip/filter through. It was very good, although quite strong. The cafe itself is more like a sports bar – it has a huge tv at one end and they’re advertising that they’ll have the race on later.

There are some very interesting decorations on the wall – one is a woodblock print of an Italian cathedral, and another is for ‘Waterloo – the Beer of Victory’ which made us howl with laughter. I guess Belgium was not on Napoleon’s side.

Back at the campervan I had just noticed that the Lion of Flanders flag was twisted and caught on something and wasn’t going to blow back out – as we were contemplating whether we should bring it down and untangle it the pole actually snapped from the wind! So we had to take it down and just removed the end section, re-attached the flags and put it back up – problem solved.

We had a bit of lunch before the arrival of the ladies’ race the first time around right at 1:00. We could see the motos and other vehicles well before they crested the hill below us – you can see right across the valley to the road they come down before turning and climbing the small hill into the town.

They made a second pass about 50 minutes later – this time I walked down further so I could see them ride up the hill, but decided not to do that again. The sidewalks are pretty narrow and I wasn’t really getting a better view. The caravan for the men’s race followed about 5 minutes later, throwing the usual stuff out as they whizzed by.

We got quite a few things, including wrist sweat bands in Belgian colours, and a nice light blue microfibre cloth. The little dog got nothing.

The men’s breakaway arrived for the first time at about 2:45, followed shortly by the peloton.

They actually passed us three times, not only two, and each time the caravan zipped by again – more loot. As usual Valverde didn’t look like he’d shaved in a couple of days – personally I like the look.

And as usual Adam Yates was riding with his jersey undone – that look I’m not so keen on.

As soon as the peloton had passed we dashed into the cafe/bar to watch the end of the race on the big screen. The place was absolutely packed – I managed to squish in on the end of a bench and Colin had to kneel on the floor (because some motorcycle riders had taken a chair to put their helmets on).

The finish was excellent – this time Alaphillipe and Fuglsang didn’t dick around so much and Alaphillipe won in a thrilling sprint to the finish. The crowd was very happy and so were we.

After the race ended the bar cleared out and we went back and took down our flags in preparation for leaving our excellent spot. We drove south towards our next destination, passing through a bit of Luxembourg on the way.

We left our nice roadside parking space fairly early and picked a campground southwest back in Belgium.

We drove for a bit along the huge Canal Albert, which is about 80 miles long and connects the city of Antwerp on the north coast with the city of Liege.

Reaching the village of Oteppe we found that the campground was huge, with hundreds of cabins and very few campervans. There are many things catering to kids, including a swimming pool with water slides, sports courts and a large area with playground equipment.

Luckily our spot was well away from the noise of screaming children, although also far from the washrooms and showers. As soon as we were settled I headed up for a shower and could barely finish – it was scalding hot with no control other than on or off. I considered leaving the shampoo in my hair rather than being boiled alive, but instead kind of splashed water from my hands and hoped I ended up rinsed enough. I always thought very cold showers were awful, but at least they weren’t dangerous.

We went for a walk through the forest next to the campground but were unable to find the ‘fish pounds’ that were shown on the map we’d been given. We did find yet another large playground area but skirted it in favour of returning to the campervan.

The campground does have wi-fi but the signal was crappy so I couldn’t load any photos or post anything, although I was able to email home.

We didn’t stick around long the next morning but made the short drive to Huy for groceries, then followed tomorrow’s race route backwards to choose our watching spot. There is a 29 km loop at the end of the race that they’ll cover twice and it has three difficult climbs.

We followed the loop part way around but turned back to the town of Marchin as we’d seen a perfect place and the town is at the top of a small hill. There’s a large church in front of a nice grassy area that has a war memorial, a gazebo, and lots of parking. There were already 3 campervans there so we were pretty sure it would be ok.

After a nice lunch outside with the table and chairs set up on the grass we went for a walk to see if there was a cafe or something in the town – couldn’t find anything open so returned. The town itself is, as usual in Belgium, very neat and tidy – the houses and yards are all well kept and the few businesses seem prosperous and not all derelict or abandoned.

You can catch a glimpse of the valley below between the houses and other buildings – they must have fantastic views from their back yards.

Another bright sunny race day – Amstel Gold is the largest race in the Netherlands and attracts some very big names every year. We were woken to the sounds of the barriers and banners being erected all along the hill we’re parked on.

The crew was very organized and efficient – they let a couple more cars in where we were, then that was it – once the banners were attached there were only a few places you could get in or out on the whole hill.

The two horses came very close at one point and I fed them some carrots, which they really seemed to enjoy – the belgian has her mane braided.

We walked down the hill to a nice looking hotel/restaurant just after 11:00 – I went in to order two cappuccinos at the bar and was told ‘she was making them’ around the corner. I waited a minute or two and a lady came towards me holding two cups – I went to take them from her and she said ‘oh no – these are mine! I like coffee too’. We both got a great laugh out of that.

We didn’t linger after finishing our cap’s as the first pass of the men was due sometime around noon. There were quite a few people along the way, although the most crowded we could see was up at the top of the climb a bit above us.

The men’s breakaway arrived right on schedule at 12:05, about seven minutes ahead of the peloton.

They call this area of the Netherlands the ‘dutch mountains’ – I personally wouldn’t call them mountains, but neither would I want to ride a bicycle up the hills – some of them are very steep and they climb a few of them three times, all in the last half of the 266 km route.

As an extra bonus today we got to see the ladies’ got through three times as well – just after 1 and again a half hour later and then another half hour later.

The men re-appeared around 3:14, still with a breakaway of about 10 riders, but down to a 4 minute lead.

On the third and final pass by us there was now only two different men in the breakaway – and Alaphillipe was one of them.

After they had all passed – including the ‘broom wagon’ we rushed inside to watch the end on tv – we were only about 15 km from the finish so it didn’t take long.

Alaphillipe and Fulgsang either ran out of gas or played a little too much catty-mousey because young van der Poel came out of nowhere and blazed by everyone to win. He’s got to be one of my new favourites and we should be seeing and hearing a lot about him in the future.

The folks parked three cars down from us had brought a large tv and set it up in their hatch, complete with satellite and generator – a crowd had gathered around to watch the finale and were all cheering like mad, being that he’s dutch and all.

The barrier removal crew arrived very shortly after the last racer passed and they were even more efficient that the setup crew was – mostly young women, but with a few guys – and did they ever do a good job. There was even a couple of them making sure all the zip ties were bagged up and not left as garbage on the road.

We heard music from one of the restaurant/bars down the hill so decided to join the fun and maybe have a meal out.

There was a really good crowd and they were all have a great time, but then at 7:30 the music stopped and the place started shutting down – talk about not taking advantage of an opportunity to make a buck.

We got a fairly early start after filling up with water and settling the tab. The sportif riders were already clogging the roads – the route goes right past the campground. There’s a large area right across the road that’s a pit stop for the sportif riders and was it ever crowded, even at just after 9 in the morning.

We managed to avoid most of the congestion on our way to the town of Meerssen to get groceries, but that was another adventure. The Lidl store was right in the middle of the town and the parking lot was completely full, including a very large delivery truck almost blocking access. Just as we were about to try to turn around and flee a car pulled out of what turned out to be a perfect spot for the campervan.

Back on the road we had a destination in mind – one of two nearby climbs that tomorrow’s race will pass three times each. We were thwarted more than once by closed roads but eventually found what we hope is the ideal spot. We are right at the signs that indicate the end of the town of Geulhem and the beginning of Berg. It’s definitely one of the climbs on the route as the sportif riders are everywhere and also there are race arrows.

It’s a proper parking area on the side of the road and we’re facing sideways taking up two spots – as long as no one comes and tells us to move it is perfect. We went for a walk up into the town and had a drink at a bar. There were a couple of dutch cyclists at the next table and we had a really nice chat with them. It was funny when a fairly young rider arrived wearing a ‘world champion’ jersey – our new friends agreed with us that only children are ok to wear it – adult sizes shouldn’t even be sold and no adult should ever wear one unless they’ve actually earned it. Very few have.

As we walked back down to the campervan we heard a car screech to a stop and a cyclist cursing loudly. The driver got out of the car and there was a terrible sounding verbal altercation. People ran out of their houses and I went back up the road to see what was going on. The car driver was incensed and his female passenger got out to try to calm him down. I myself get somewhat annoyed sometimes about some of the cyclist in a sportif, but really – there are around 19,000 of them going through this town today so perhaps local drivers should have just a little more patience and take a little more time. A car against a guy on a bike just isn’t a fair competition.

We’re parked right next to a couple of lush fields that have two beautiful horses – one is all black and the other is a belgian that’s black and white with the feathered feet.

Woke up to a beautiful and sunny day, if still quite chilly. After a nice cup of tea and a bite to eat Colin went down to the office to check in properly. He specifically asked about the laundry machines, and did they accept coins or did we need a token – he was told that either would work.

I then went for a bike ride, and it’s so great here – very similar to Belgium. The local road has a nice wide marked lane on both sides for bikes, and the car lane is in the middle – if a car is coming in each direction at the same time the bicycle actually has priority and at least one of the cars has to stop!! If only that could take off at home it would save a lot of accidents, not to mention get more and more people riding.

I went as far as the small town of Slenaken, and the road I followed is part of the race route on Sunday. It was through very beautiful countryside, and there weren’t very many cars. The small town itself was crammed with hotels with bars and cafes, although I did manage to find a supermarket.

Since I couldn’t read the signs I tried to go in through the out door – the young lady initially told me to go around to the front to enter, but must have felt sorry for me and just waved me in anyways. The wine selection was pitifully small – there was only one kind that I recognized as actually being red wine so I grabbed two (just in case!).

On the way back to the campground I took a right turn down a smaller road and ended up going several km out of my way – the side road back to village near the campground had just been re-paved and they wouldn’t even let a bike down. I had to ride all the way into Gulpen, then back down the main road – quite busy and very, very hot. It’s amazing that just over a week ago I was bundled up in my winter coat, including boots, hat and mitts and now all that’s needed is my rah-rah skirt, a shirt and flip-flops.

Back at the campground we tried to do a load of laundry, but discovered, with the help of another camper who didn’t actually speak english, that it did indeed require tokens as opposed to coins. I went down to the office to get a token and found a lineup out the door for folks checking in.

I asked if I could pop to the front of the line just to ask a question about the laundry and no one had a problem with it, except, apparently, the office lady. She quickly answered my question – yes, you do need a token (contrary to what she’d told Colin just a couple of hours earlier) and how much it was – an extremely high amount of 5.50 euros(!) but didn’t get me one. I was made to ‘get back in line’ and wait while she checked in three other campers, then, within less than 5 seconds, sold me the token. Smile pasted on my face the whole time I swallowed what I really wanted to say and left.

Laundry washed and hung on the rack we enjoyed a leisurely afternoon and evening. Chicken with potatoes and green beans for dinner – roughing it again.

Next morning I went for another ride to Slenaken and again on the way back took the right turn to the smaller road – this time the connecting road was open so I didn’t have to detour all the way into Gulpen.

There were many more cyclists on the road today and I wouldn’t want to be on the road tomorrow when the sportif will be held.

The morning was kind of overcast but not really cold. We went for a nice walk down the Holstheide climb that we’re parked near for the race, but veered onto a nice looking forest path partway down.

At the bottom it opened up into several nice farms with horses, chickens, geese, sheep and cows. Colin has mentioned to me before that people didn’t used to have guard dogs, but rather geese – there’s no way to pass a goose-pen without them making a huge racket.

As we passed one place back on the road there was a fierce barking – a german shepard was going nuts trying to get at us through a hedge and fence. Another dog shortly joined him and they were both in a frenzy. The farmer was in his yard and said something to the dogs, which was very fortunate since the double gates were actually wide open and there was nothing stopping the dogs from running out and getting at us. But they didn’t – they simply ran past the open gates to the hedge and fence on the other side and barked up a storm. They ran back and forth past the open gates a couple of times but never once stepped a foot outside – it was one of the funniest things, but I was very grateful they listened to whatever command the farmer had given them.

After a light lunch we saw the helis overhead and on a nearby road could see the blue lights of the motos – the race was going by on a nearby road, but wouldn’t be back for the climb to where we were for a couple of hours.

In the meantime we went for another walk in the other direction down a quiet side road through a field, then downhill a bit to the outskirts of Huldenberg.

We noticed that there is a greater variety of house building materials – still lots of brick, but also some plaster, all with neat, tidy yards and gardens of course.

There was one dog that really wanted to get over the fence at us – his fur flew around him almost like feathers as he jumped against the gate.

We walked down and around the corner so we’d be on the actual race hill and waited – after the first pass we changed to the other side of the road. There was a young couple with a little blond girl – daddy had her at times on his shoulder and she was blowing a plastic horn – she was just so cute.

In the hour and a half we were there to see the multiple passes of the racers she never whined or complained once – if all kids were like that I wouldn’t mind most of them so much!

We watched the end of the race on tv – young van der Poel won again, beating Alaphillipe in a sprint to the finish. As soon as it was over we hit the road for the Netherlands to get near the next race – Sunday’s Amstel Gold.

Despite the mis-direction once again of miss GPS we found a really nice campground – the office was already closed but the fellow in the bar/restaurant showed us which sites were available. We picked one and parked for the night, then went down for a drink. It was a lovely evening, complete with a full moon.

We left our farmer’s field fairly early and went back to the campground in Tournai, stopping along the way in Orchies.

First thing after we parked in Tournai – nice hot shower, followed by lots of laundry. Unfortunately they didn’t have any machines so it was all done by hand – luckily the sinks in the shower room had hot water so I filled one with soapy water and one with plain water and got going. It took several ‘loads’ but all got done then hung on the little clothes drying rack Colin bot a couple of weeks ago.

Colin had met a couple and their son that were from the Isle of Wight, and the father and son (Harrison) came by the campervan and chatted for a bit. Colin had given Harrison a hat that he’d collected the other day – he’s only 9 but is a pretty serious cyclist and seems very knowledgeable without being snotty – actually he was very polite, well spoken and quite adorable.

In the evening we had the tv on and saw the beginning of the fire of Notre Dame – watched for a couple of hours as it got completely out of control and things started to cave in. I recall that on that long ago backpacking trip my awesome travel buddy Sue and I saw the cathedral but declined to go in – at least I declined but I can’t actually remember if Sue did or not.

The next morning seemed considerably warmer and I actually went for another ride after a bite to eat. The campground is right next to an eco-area and I thought that might be a good place to find some trails – wrong. There was a large group of men getting ready to scuba dive in the small lake but the best looking trail had a no-bike sign on it – kind of strange for Belgium.

I pushed my bike up a different steep trail that led to a dirt road but it didn’t go very far, so I back-tracked to a nice paved road that had great cycle paths on both sides. I rode into the village of Vaulx and around a bit, then back to the campground.

The big news story on the BBC was, of course, the burning of Notre Dame – billionaires are already pledging hundreds of millions of euros, and Macron has already stated that it would be re-built. Seems kind of disgusting to me – I know it’s a huge tourist attraction, but when you think how much manpower (ie – thousands of unpaid peasants) and money (ie – stolen by the church) was spent building it in the first place, and how much it’s going to cost now I have to wonder – how many hungry children or homeless people could be helped with the huge amount of money it will take? How many social programs will be cut so a fricking church can be resurected? Maybe the pope could cough up some dough to help fund it – after all I bet there’s as much money and treasure in the Vatican as there is anywhere else – perhaps he could donate a painting or two to the cause. Or maybe queen E could pawn one of the crown jewels – oh wait – wrong religion – they both spout ‘christianity’ but can’t agree on much else but the name.

We got going just after noon towards the next race. We stopped on the way to visit the site of the Battle of Waterloo. They’ve ‘built’ a huge mound with a lion on top right in the middle – kind of ruins the whole place, actually – and of course you have to pay to walk up the stairs to the top.

The whole place is actually kind of funny – they seem to totally ignore the fact that Napoleon lost! It’s all about the french – hardly anything even shows or mentions the british who kicked their asses. Even the statue of NB looks like an arrogant little dickhead – I though he looked kind of constipated and Colin told me that Napolean had hemmoroids so that might explain it. At least ABBA got a hit out of it the eagles rocked (get it? Ha ha).

After a quick grocery stop in the nearby town we visited Hougoumont Farm, another very important site from that war.

The wall around the farm has holes cut into it so the defenders could see out and take shots at anyone that came near.

We finally headed for our destination – the town of Huldenberg, that has more than one hill that tomorrow’s race will pass 3 or 4 times. We followed the route around, then chose a spot just past the top of one of the hills. Some guys were just erecting a banner that shows 10 km to the finish – at least it will be on their final time around.

In the field next door are a beautiful little donkey and a white pony – both look very well fed, although are a bit skittish.