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