Where was Bertie He spent the night at a campsite in Houyet, Belgium. For Bertie, three adults and a small tent it cost €25.50, including electricity. Approx location: 50.18923, 5.00757.
Weather: Another gloriously sunny day and hot (low 30s).
Saturday's parkrun, my 11th of our 12 weeks in Germany, was good. It was a pity that I came in one second behind my PB (I can recount four different things that slowed me down by at least a second each, including path-blocking children and a wayward dog), but I was first female in a total field of 43, more than half of whom were women, so that was pleasing. I probably wouldn't have covered the final mile so fast if it hadn't been for my realisation at the turn-around point on the tow-path that: a) I hadn't seen another woman amongst the front runners; and b) the person behind me was not only female but looked like she might be in my age category. It may not be a race, but both bits of knowledge spurred me on.
With a rendezvous in Belgium just a few hours hence, we hung around at the finish a while chatting to the other British tourists, but didn't have time to go for the post-run coffee. Instead, ten minutes later we were having cold showers in Lidl's car park, to make ourselves decent before heading into the store. We'd forgotten to put the water on to heat earlier in the morning, but the benefit of cold showers is that they're generally speedy and don't use much water!
A quick revisit to the Stellplatz was needed on our way to the motorway, to retrieve our €50 key deposit (reception had been closed when we left earlier), then off to Belgium via Luxembourg we went.
In Luxembourg we stopped for cheap fuel (success: 110.9/litre) and for LPG (fail*, but we had to queue for ages to be able to exit the fuel station), then drove on through to our rendezvous point with Christine Thürmer (trail name: German Tourist).
Christine is, to the best of her knowledge, the furthest-walked woman in the world. Amongst her extensive backpacking CV she has walked the length and breadth of Europe and she is currently walking the top-left to bottom-right diagonal - from Ireland to Greece. Last week I got in touch to see if there was a possibility that our routes (us driving, her walking) might coincide as we crossed Belgium.
In the last few years Christine has become a best-selling author within Germany, with regular appearances in the media and on talk shows, and thus she has a huge following on social media. Usually when people get in touch to meet up with her (which happens a lot), she politely declines.
Fortunately for us, our history predates her fame, although none of us can now remember how we first came to know of each other. We do, however, all remember the convenient coincidence of time and place that allowed us to meet up on a narrow boat upon which she was travelling various British waterways a few years ago.
This time we managed another convenient time/place coincidence. Christine's usual night-stops are hidden away in forests. However, on the very night that we were going to be driving up the E411 motorway, she was planning to stay at a campsite just a couple of kilometres away. She almost never stays on campsites (it was a need to wash her clothes and charge her electronics that forced her there this weekend), making it an even more happy coincidence.
Arriving at the chosen campsite it all seemed very quiet (i.e. not a single tent or tourer) and the chap who came out to see what we wanted broke the news that they were closed for a special event. I explained as best I could (in French) about our friend's walk and that we were meeting her, but he was unmoved. I asked if he would let just her stay, in a small tent, but 'non'.
A revised plan was agreed, Bertie was relocated to Houyet and after a late lunch I thought I'd head out to see if I could intercept Christine on her way in. The only potential flaw in my plan was that I wasn't entirely sure whether I was on the right path. Reaching a multi-way junction I dithered and decided not to continue. If I was on the wrong path there was the danger that she would arrive at Bertie and I would be half an hour away. However, in turning around I had the niggling feeling that I would later find that I had given up a few moments too soon (
as I did when I went in search of Mick in April this yearWeather: Another gloriously sunny day and hot (low 30s).
Saturday's parkrun, my 11th of our 12 weeks in Germany, was good. It was a pity that I came in one second behind my PB (I can recount four different things that slowed me down by at least a second each, including path-blocking children and a wayward dog), but I was first female in a total field of 43, more than half of whom were women, so that was pleasing. I probably wouldn't have covered the final mile so fast if it hadn't been for my realisation at the turn-around point on the tow-path that: a) I hadn't seen another woman amongst the front runners; and b) the person behind me was not only female but looked like she might be in my age category. It may not be a race, but both bits of knowledge spurred me on.
With a rendezvous in Belgium just a few hours hence, we hung around at the finish a while chatting to the other British tourists, but didn't have time to go for the post-run coffee. Instead, ten minutes later we were having cold showers in Lidl's car park, to make ourselves decent before heading into the store. We'd forgotten to put the water on to heat earlier in the morning, but the benefit of cold showers is that they're generally speedy and don't use much water!
A quick revisit to the Stellplatz was needed on our way to the motorway, to retrieve our €50 key deposit (reception had been closed when we left earlier), then off to Belgium via Luxembourg we went.
In Luxembourg we stopped for cheap fuel (success: 110.9/litre) and for LPG (fail*, but we had to queue for ages to be able to exit the fuel station), then drove on through to our rendezvous point with Christine Thürmer (trail name: German Tourist).
Christine is, to the best of her knowledge, the furthest-walked woman in the world. Amongst her extensive backpacking CV she has walked the length and breadth of Europe and she is currently walking the top-left to bottom-right diagonal - from Ireland to Greece. Last week I got in touch to see if there was a possibility that our routes (us driving, her walking) might coincide as we crossed Belgium.
In the last few years Christine has become a best-selling author within Germany, with regular appearances in the media and on talk shows, and thus she has a huge following on social media. Usually when people get in touch to meet up with her (which happens a lot), she politely declines.
Fortunately for us, our history predates her fame, although none of us can now remember how we first came to know of each other. We do, however, all remember the convenient coincidence of time and place that allowed us to meet up on a narrow boat upon which she was travelling various British waterways a few years ago.
This time we managed another convenient time/place coincidence. Christine's usual night-stops are hidden away in forests. However, on the very night that we were going to be driving up the E411 motorway, she was planning to stay at a campsite just a couple of kilometres away. She almost never stays on campsites (it was a need to wash her clothes and charge her electronics that forced her there this weekend), making it an even more happy coincidence.
Arriving at the chosen campsite it all seemed very quiet (i.e. not a single tent or tourer) and the chap who came out to see what we wanted broke the news that they were closed for a special event. I explained as best I could (in French) about our friend's walk and that we were meeting her, but he was unmoved. I asked if he would let just her stay, in a small tent, but 'non'.
A revised plan was agreed, Bertie was relocated to Houyet and after a late lunch I thought I'd head out to see if I could intercept Christine on her way in. The only potential flaw in my plan was that I wasn't entirely sure whether I was on the right path. Reaching a multi-way junction I dithered and decided not to continue. If I was on the wrong path there was the danger that she would arrive at Bertie and I would be half an hour away. However, in turning around I had the niggling feeling that I would later find that I had given up a few moments too soon (
). The niggling feeling proved to be correct: I arrived back at Bertie and Christine followed two minutes later.
The rest of the afternoon and evening went by in a swirl of incredibly wide-ranging conversation interspersed with a three-course meal, all served al-fresco in the heat of the evening.
Darkness was well upon us by the time Christine declared a need to sleep. She retired to her tent, Mick put away the table and chairs and I went into Bertie. I was soon back outside, telling Mick that Bertie was filled with hundreds of tiny flies and a hornet. At some point after dark, we must have left the door flyscreen open. Ooops.
Mick later confessed he assumed I meant a few flies and a wasp. I didn't. Once we'd managed to lure the hornet outside the midgey-sized things were dealt with via the vacuum cleaner. It was about an hour before we'd got the number down sufficiently to go to bed.
It had been a full but (save for the fly/hornet debacle and the closed campsite panic) excellent day.
(*actually, not a bad thing as it turns out LPG is currently cheaper in Belgium than in Luxembourg)
The rest of the afternoon and evening went by in a swirl of incredibly wide-ranging conversation interspersed with a three-course meal, all served al-fresco in the heat of the evening.
Darkness was well upon us by the time Christine declared a need to sleep. She retired to her tent, Mick put away the table and chairs and I went into Bertie. I was soon back outside, telling Mick that Bertie was filled with hundreds of tiny flies and a hornet. At some point after dark, we must have left the door flyscreen open. Ooops.
Mick later confessed he assumed I meant a few flies and a wasp. I didn't. Once we'd managed to lure the hornet outside the midgey-sized things were dealt with via the vacuum cleaner. It was about an hour before we'd got the number down sufficiently to go to bed.
It had been a full but (save for the fly/hornet debacle and the closed campsite panic) excellent day.
(*actually, not a bad thing as it turns out LPG is currently cheaper in Belgium than in Luxembourg)
Looks as though you'll be home soon - that sparks off a memory. At my advanced years I remember things about WW2 - we had a neighbour whose son was in the RAF and when he came home at the end of the war the whole street put bunting and flags out and there was a big celebration. If I lived a bit closer I would go and post a welcome home flag on your front door.
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