In Flanders Fields

**Claire in Flanders Fields - Between Bruges and Anwerp - Copyright 2011**

OOOOHHHHHH.

You're supposed to DUNK the cookie IN the coffee...



Good evening everybody, Goða Nott

I am in Anwerp (Antwerpen / Anvers), Belgium! This last leg of the trip has proved to be amazing! I am so glad that I made the decision to change routes!

**Cycle by number - Between Bruges and Anwerp - Copyright 2011**

Brussels was a tonne of fun - such an interesting political and cultural mash up... it was like walking into a blender of language and politics! I thought it was interesting that as I meandered into the heart of the European government, the energy of the area felt exactly like I was walking into the debate room in high school - I think it's funny that the two places have the exact same feel.

Story Time!!

**A canal in Gent - Copyright 2011**

So I get to Gent (Belgian city between Antwerp and Ypres/Ieper) after about 60kms of biking, and I settle into the hostel. There's a guy from Germany named Tom in my room, and he wanted to go for dinner. We ate near the canals, and all was well and good. He went back home to go to bed and I pulled out my map and started wandering. Gent is beautiful. Tonnes of old buildings from the 1500s, and many beautiful canals. Really nice... really touristy... and, well, we all know what Ryley thinks of tourists...

So as I am getting more and more lost, and the sun is setting, and I could barely read my map, I noticed this tiny little sign on the top of the map saying "My week in free concerts". Hmmm. It was sunday, and it said that there should be a jazz show about a block from where I was standing - coincidence? I think not...

You enter this club through a small hole in the wall (like, actually - it looks like a bomb went off between buildings - and in this part of the world, that very well could be the case...), and then down a corridor that is so narrow you can't pass two directions at the same time! Then, the light at the end of the tunnel - a small club, which opens out onto a terrasse - made of beautiful old brick, and a creaky wooden celing. Everybody was smoking inside! Through the cloud of smoke, I could just make out some musicians setting up on the stage. I quickly grabbed the last seat and ordered a beer (when in Belgium...).

The music was amazing! Just a group of young guys playing Real Book tunes - but good real book tunes. It was wonderful to see such energy coming off the stage! It probably helped that the place was packed to standing room only...

So a few sets go by, my beer is empty, and I'm starting to think about heading home - having 80kms to do tomorrow - when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I look up, and this middle aged man spews some long sentance off in Flemish. I tried to give him my best "I'm not from here" face, but he only repeated himself... boy do I miss French... Then he motioned to my chair, and held up his coat. I was like AHHHHH. So I nodded, and went back to listening to the music. Then he tapped my shoulder again "PITCHER?" he yelled over the drone of the music, pointing to the bar. Because I am so versed in Flemish, I gave him another confused look, which was answered by him putting a beer in front of me, and then taking one for himself...

Okay... cool!

A few tunes go by, and then he yells something else in my ear. I look up at him and say "I'm really sorry - I don't speak Dutch" (Flemish is basically a dialect of Dutch for all intents and purposes). He looked back at me and said "Shpreken-zie Deutsch?" - and I'm like - oh boy. I was like "No, only english", and he looks back at me taps his chest and in a proud voice says something along the lines of "Necht Neerlandais" (Dear readers from Belgium, the Netherlands, and Germany - I appologize for my spelling - it's all just phonetic...) with a big smile on his face (what I assume meant "I only speak Dutch!"). "PITCHER?" he motioned to my half empty glass... Oh boy - I'm in for an interesting night!

It's amazing how much Flemish one can speak a few drinks in... yes, that's the language, not the stuff that gets stuck in your throat...

NOT


Anyways, this guy and I actually had a blast for the rest of the night! In all sorts of different hand gestures, and him shouting in Flemish at me over the music, we actually managed to have somewhat of a conversation! Really fun!

In the end, it was 130 in the morning when I left, 4 or 5 more drinks deep than I had planned when I started the night, and I somehow mannaged to find my way back to the hostel! What is it that impressed me the most about this whole experience? I left at 130, the place was still Standing Room Only, and they were setting up for another set - ON A SUNDAY....

I love you Europe. I'm never coming home...

STATISTICS!!!!!!

Days: Almost 60
Kms: Over 1500 as of yesterday
Most kms in a day: 130kms - Bruge to Antwerp - cycle by number
Photos: Almost 3000
Belgian Beers (and yes, they are everything they promised): 7 different types to date
World War I Cemetaries: Countless - I'm really starting to realize why it's called the Great War
Days to Iceland: 7

Home made Belgian chocolate mousse after a day touring the World War I battle sites - Priceless

**Between the Crosses Row on Row - a war cemetary Ypres - Copyright 2011**

Anyways, I should get going, just thought I'd post this short anecdote. I promise more photos soon!!!

Lots of love to all!

Ryley

All of Me

**Un Café Montmartrois - Paris - Copyright 2011**

Good evening all!

Oh boy! Things are changing!!!

Wait, it's me - what else is new...

In other news, I have decided to leave Paris, and head towards Iceland! My original plan was to take a train to Nantes, where I would begin my tour of the Loire river valley (castles for the win!), and then continue on into the south of France, but yesterday I sort of had this weird revelation: Summer means nice weather. Nice weather means tourists. Tourists means

CHAOS!!!!!

So, instead of joining the masses on the stunning topless beaches of southern France, I shall begin my trip northward to Iceland!

Among the "touristic reasons", I have also realized that France is simply divine: the people are so kind, the food is out of this world, the countryside and the history are so rich and beautiful - truly everything I thought it would be and more - but it's time for something different. I have been here for almost a month and a half, and I've seen my fair number of castles, museums, and monuments (they are indeed abundant), and I just think that it's time for a change of pace.

**Notre Dame Cathedral - Paris - Copyright 2011**

The point of this long story is that after I have taken my dad to the airport tomorrow, I'm going to head to Gare du Nord and get on a train bound for Brussels! Hopefully will spend a week or so there, before heading north - 1200kms to the tip of Denmark - to the port of Hirtshals, with a mix of trains and biking (whatever mood strikes me).

The interesting thing that I have come to realize is that I never intended to make this trip a "Bike Tour". Don't get me wrong, I love my bike, and cycling around cities is absolutely one of the most fun things I have ever done **especially Paris**! I just have to remind myself that I am using a bike as a way to see a country at my own pace. If my own pace needs to be faster, it's fine to get on a train/plane/boat!

I guess I just need to keep reminding myself of that... It's really easy to get down on yourself when you realize that your destination is either three short train rides away with some time sent in some really cool places, or three weeks of non-stop pedaling (and that's without stopping in the cities for a day here and there...). The choice seems pretty obvious to me...

**Riffling of a World War II Artillery Battery - Longues-Sur-Mer - Copyright 2011**

It's interesting as well, to be trying to listen to that voice inside me. I've always thought that inspiration came in the form of a concrete thought - a series of words that might form a coherent sentence if I was lucky. But I've come to discover that it's actually just more of a feeling. No words can describe it.

I remember telling Adam once - If you're weighing two choices, the one that you should do is the one that feels almost wrong - because you've told yourself and everybody else that you're going to do it the other way, and yet once you make the decision, you feel this inexplicable relief....

I guess I'm sort of dedicating this trip to practicing what I preach!

**German Machine Gun Emplacements (top right) - Omaha Beach - Copyright 2011**

On a totally new note - I have to say that I have had a wonderful time in Paris with my dad! It's been so nice to share part of my grand adventure with somebody - especially an artist! It was incredible to go to the Musée d'Orsay with him, and BOOM - There the original Van Goghs', Monets' and Degas'. Such incredible use of colour and feeling in those paintings. Strange to be in a sheer state of appreciation as I approached these paintings - moved almost to the point of tears they are so beautiful! And I'm not a particularly visual person...

I have to say that those were my favorite four artists. Not because of who they are, or the fame that they have risen to - I had never seen a Degas, or a Monet before. But when you approach their paintings / sketches / pastels there is this intangible sense of something else going on in the works.... and then you feel this wonderful feeling inside of you. Then you look at the little name tag beside the painting and you're like - Oh, Claude Monet, cool. And then that happens twenty times over the day, and you realize why they dedicate an entire museum to these guys!

And before put anybody to sleep with the length of this post (I apologize - I'm not sure when I'll be able to write again as my computer is Calgary bound tomorrow), I have to mention that in the musée d'Orsay, there is a small information panel (the artists bio), in a small room of a temporary exhibit. I forget the name of the painter, but he lived roughly in the time of the impressionists, and painted very similar subject matter, and in a very similar style. When asked about his (at the time) graphic portrayal of nude women, he responded (this is a rough rendition - I forget the exact words):

"Nudes are supposed to be sensual, or raise questions"

WOW.

This totally altered the way I feel about nude paintings. Here I am, this little canadian boy, raised in a reasonably sheltered environment, and now, in front of me (everywhere - in the Louvre, on building facades, in the Orsay, on the beaches of Normandy etc...) is all of this nudity. It's not portrayed in a graphic, pornographic matter, but in a beautiful manner.

A celebration of the beauty of the human body. Both male and female.

And why do I feel such tension inside me? I keep feeling guilty for looking at it. When I look at it, I feel so sensual - But no, it's art - I'm not supposed to feel that way about art.

**Mont St. Michel and Tombelaine - Photoraphed from Genêts - Copyright 2011**

Then I read this quote, and all that tension disappeared.

Nudity is sensual! I am supposed to feel wonderful when I see it. The human body is SO magnificent - from the muscled thighs of a greek god, to the subtle curves in a womans' shoulder blades - it is sensual! And there is nothing wrong with portraying it, and loving it! We as humans have tried to de-sensitize ourselves to it. It has become this sort of dirty little pleasure that teenagers and young adults have.

It is so wonderful to know that it's okay!!!

Anyways, for me, this was a huge revelation, and has altered the way that I think about the human body - male and female - and it's portrayal in art, and in life.

Bed time. Much love to all!

Goða Nott

-Ryley-

"All is Well"

Black Orpheus

**Rue Faubourg St Antoine Paris, just west of Place de la Nation. Copyright 2011**

Bon soir tout le monde!

Hey everybody! Wow, it feels like it's been a while since I last posted on here! I am currently back in Paris, with my pops, rocking out in the 12th district, just beside Place de la Nation! It's nice to have my computer for a few days, just to un-learn all the french keyboard typing habits that I started to develop... And, I have to say, it's nice to be in a hotel, with a guaranteed place to crash just for a week... after that it's back to the usual excitement!

It's so nice to be back in Paris! Paris is incredible - everybody should see it at least once in their life! I would absolutely give this city two weeks - there is so much to do!!! And it's also a wonderful city for just sitting and relaxing... I'm really glad I came back - even though I haven't spent any time in large (by american standards) cities in the last three weeks, my confidence has vastly improved, and I'm able to visit monuments and busy sections of town and actually look at what it is that I'm supposed to be looking at, instead of my bag and wallet...

**Dad having a go at the oars - Chateau de Versailles. Copyright 2011**

For example - the first time I was in Montmartre (18e) I was TERRIFIED of getting robbed. I don't know why, but I was. Have to say I really didn't enjoy it! But my dad and I went up there a few days ago, and it's wonderful to realize that there's nothing to be afraid of! What a stunning area. It was fun to see all the artists painting in the square, to sit on the steps of the Basilique du Sacré Cœur, and even more fun to leave the tourist area (which doesn't take very long - it's not very big) and wander the quiet back streets, laden with Brasseries, Épiceries, and Laveries.

I have run into at least four films being made in Paris - it was fun to walk by the stashes of gear and be a total "bogey" for once. Even better was seeing a Steadicam guy rocking out near Place de la Bastille.... I could live like that... I think from my minimal experience here that I would like to live on the Right Bank...

When I was in Paris the first time, I spent most of my time (for some unknown reason) on the right bank (everything north of the Seine River). When I showed up a few days ago, I learned what I had been missing - TOURISTS

RUN

AWAY

!!!!!!!!!!!

Not quite that bad, but it was really strange to be walking along, you cross the street, and you find yourself in an street that is just filled with tourists - like - FILLED. It's a very young crowd, and I can see the appeal for certain types of people, but I'm a more low key guy when it comes to that sort of thing. I found that everything had this plastic, over the top sort of feel - it wasn't real at all. Then I flipped back over the river, and life was normal again! This is not me dissing the south side of town - I suspect that I probably just wandered into a really popular section of a small part of town, but regardless, I've really loved my stay on the right bank!

In news, I just found out that the NDP party in Canada has formed the opposition.

**Auberge de Jeunesse - Genêts. Copyright 2011**

Mont St. Michel was wonderful. Such a great experience. It was my first go at hosteling abroad (my experience in Québec city doesn't count...), and it was wonderful! I pretty much had the run of the place! The hostel was in the old railway station in the village of Genêts (population 400). Such a great location, and the management was unbelievably friendly! The walk to the Abbey across the Baie de Mont St. Michel was amazing! Gotta love quick sand and rip tides! Our guide was so cool. His name was Didier - I think that says enough....

**The "Pilgrimage" to Mont St. Michel with guide Didier. Copyright 2011**

And a big shout out to Marie-Noëlle and André in Bayeux, as well as Claire, Alexandre and Helène in Caen! - awesome hosts! It was absolutely wonderful staying with them there! Bayeux is a beautiful city - one of only two in Normandy that didn't get totally destroyed by the war (I think I may have already mentioned this in an earlier post, so I shall stop here...). I loved the tapestry - it's incredible to be so close to something that is almost 1000 years old! The history here is unspeakably incredible. Oh right I almost forgot - Happy 401st Birthday Québec! (I got to be in Normandy for its 1100th birthday - lots of fun!)

And before signing out here, I shall record some more pointless statistics!

Days: 44

Couch surfing : 28

Camping : 8

Hostels : 3

Dads here! : 5

Kilometers : 1050

Flat Tires : 1

Baguettes : Have lost track due to increased wine intake

Fresh bread dipped in melted wheels of Camembert : Priceless

Much love to everybody!

All is Well

-Ryley