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Bike Touring Journals by Neil Anderson and Sharon Anderson

Dutch Treat

Bicycle touring Belgium

Friendly Belgians

I thought perhaps it would just be a gray dismal day. But it was totally overcast, cold, windy, rainy and miserable. Sharon cast a wary eye heavenwards and ruefully observed it looked like a low water consumption day. She poured out two jugs of water to lighten her load. We packed up and pushed into the forest, avoiding the dewy meadow grass. Inside the forest it was still as dark as night.

On the country road we passed a bus shelter with a phone inside. Capital idea. When one got tired of waiting for the bus they could call a cab. Flocks of sheep contemplatively chewed their cud's alongside chubby lambs. Their noses wriggled while they munched making them look like oversized rabbits.

We went through a town named Holler, so of course I did - much to Sharon's disgust and the local's dismay.

"Why do they always do that?" townsfolk must ask.

"Do what?"

"Holler."

"Darned if I know."

Tourists. We all thought we were so original.

In the land of unpronounceable names we came to the town of Weiswampach. There was a store that looked like a junk store with some camping items in the window. We were down to one candle for our lantern, so I went in to see if they had any. They had two.

"Do you take French francs?" I asked the bent old woman.

"No," she answered.

"How much are the candles?" I enquired.

"Cinquante-cinq," she replied.

I went to a bank to see if I could get Belgium francs.

"Can I use my Mastercard with the expired date?"

"No." "

Can you phone them to ask?"

"No."

"What is the exchange?"

"Twenty Belgian francs for one Canadian dollar."

Hmmm. That was a pretty good deal I got on that tire then. All of a sudden prices doubled. The clerk in the bicycle shop must have made an error on the exchange rate. I liked his better.

Using my Visa card, I returned to the old woman's strewn junk shop with francs in hand. She looked at me blankly, as if she had never seen me before. I guess she didn't recognize me with money. "Bougies," I said to refresh her memory. She got them and I handed her a hundred franc note. She demanded eight francs more. One hundred eight francs for two candles? I didn't think so. That was a lot more than I had first thought I was told. From her hand I took back my hundred and headed for the door. In German, she spouted something unpleasant to my disappearing backside.

We had money so we hit the grocery store. Sharon bought chocolate covered waffles and cinnamon buns filled with raisons and pudding. We were snacking on them under the store roof when it began to rain. We put on our rain gear to which I added plastic bags over my new shoes. We cycled for a while before stopping in a forest. It was raining harder. Should we set up? The sun came out of a blue hole. We decided we would eat lunch and then decide. It began raining again. Taking that as an omen we set up. It alternated between rain and sun for the rest of the afternoon.

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