I live in fear of the day that I accidentally hit a cyclist when I am out and about driving my car. At the moment I drive a UK spec car which means that the steering wheel is on the wrong side and therefore I have to be quite sure of what is around me before I make a manoeuvre.
It is useful to set the scene here. The Belgians are passionate about their cycling as much as they are about their beer, in fact on occasion the two appear to go together! The country has about as many hills as Cambridgeshire, which would also explain the popularity of bicycles in that part of the world too. For the most part there are few significant hills to contend with, but that said, their whole attitude to cycling is different to that of the UK.
There are miles and miles of dedicated cycle lanes, although be warned that mopeds and small motorbikes also use them at breakneck speed. The country is pro bicycle in every sense. During the weekend in the spring and summer months you will find herds of lycra clad bodies pedalling by and quite frankly ignoring most of the highway code as they do so. That is not to say they just swan around all over the place, no, what I mean is that they will ignore give way signs and other traffic signals, especially when in groups. Like bouncing gazelles it would seem the one at the back is the most at risk of being picked off, so they urgently press forward and keep going.
I was driving thorough Antwerp one day and An was sat with me, she suddenly shouted to watch out as I veered and just missed the bike that had gone through a red light and was crossing the pedestrian crossing. Despite the cyclist being in the wrong, I would have been blamed regardless. In the UK such cyclists do not get the same level of respect or indeed impunity. In the UK if I was passing cars or lorries then I know the risks and am bloody careful. The Belgians on the other hand are much more aware of bikes and therefore they don't worry so much about overtaking. That is until they come across a British driver whose mind set is somewhat different to the locals, in which case they get the scare of their lives and are lucky to escape!
The really good thing about bikes in Belgium is that there are people of all ages out and about going to and from shops and schools. You get pensioners on nice comfortable bikes that your average Brit would not be seen dead on, complete with saddle bags. I would encourage you to visit Leuven, the bicycles are not much to look at but the girls riding them are somewhat more pleasing to the eye in this university city.
One of my pastimes, I find this difficult to phrase because I don't get much pleasure from it, is running. In fact it is best to describe it as a slow jog, which I do to keep fit and try to keep the weight under control. Anyway, the point I want to get to is that when I go running I have to be wary of the bikes, especially the herds. They do not slow down and they do not give you much room. In fact you can get the odd disgruntled expletive as you seem to get in the way. I must add that for the most part there are no footpaths, or at least not to the extent that we have in the UK. The priority seems to be road, cycle lane and then footpath. In the city centres they are better but in a lot of places they don't have them.
There are some die hard cyclists and there was a run I did fairly recently in a bit of a blizzard with thick snow lying on the ground. Lets face it there was not many people out and about and I was seriously concerned about slipping and accidentally ending up in the Demer river. Imagine my surprise when I was passed, very closely by a speeding cyclist! I did not have time to swear at him and thankfully I did not end up falling. Such is their commitment to their National sport.
I cannot really say a lot about the sport itself as I have little interest in it. I could not tell you who the big players are or what famous competitions are held. I think I prefer to cycle alongside the canals and stop at the local hostelries for a sample of beer in the sun, that way I get the best of Belgian culture in that respect.
Well that is all for now.
Monday, 29 April 2013
Sunday, 28 April 2013
What No Pies?
One of the things I have had to come to terms with is that the bakeries here just don't seem to do savoury pies they way they do in the UK. In fact I am struggling to think of anywhere where I have come across a meat pie in Belgium. It is one of those sacrifices I have had to make and therefore I need to go back home to the UK to get my fix every now and again.
On the subject of bakeries, I have often described Belgium as being a few decades behind the UK in terms of shopping and choice of products. Bakeries are an example of where Belgium has retained specialised shops that produce some amazingly nice tarts, bread and other baked goods. In the UK, unless you happen to live in London, it is rare to see a small independent bakers. In fact they died out a long time ago when chains such as Greggs replaced them, along with the growth of the out of town supermarkets. Greggs, believe it or not, operate in Belgium, only here they are a sandwich shop and you will get looks of horror if you refer to them as 'Greggs the bakers'.
Apart from a range of freshly baked bread, which is just divine, they also do traditional cheesecakes, fruit tarts, croissants, raisin bread, sugar bread and pastries. There are normally queues in most of these bakers especially on Sunday, even Christmas day. This is quite a surprise for a country that is shut on Sundays and during holidays, in stark contrast to the UK where holidays are used as a commercial opportunity.
In contrast when you go to a supermarket you will still get a reasonable range of bread but it is not as good a quality as the bakers. In the UK of course, the supermarkets produce as much in the bread aisle as Belgian supermarkets stock wine in their wine aisle!
You must beware that as quick as you can say 'can I have a long white' they have it in the bread cutting machine and it is being quite thinly sliced. There is no choice of thickness, just cut or uncut. If you like your doorsteps or anything more than 1/2 cm thick then you have to stop them by saying 'niet sneden!' The good points about getting sliced is that it controls how much you eat each time you have a sandwich and also it saves on the mess when you cut the bread. The downside is that the bread isn't decently thick enough to hold a proper filling and it goes off quicker. Picky I know but you really want it to be able to hold some filling rather than spilling it all over the place when you eat.
Most Belgians order a Christmas cake, Kerststronk (Christmas Log), but this one is absolutely plastered in fresh light cream and is based on a sponge with fruit. It has heart attack written all over it, which for a nation that is slim and healthy, is quite surprising. Bakeries are a big plus in favour of Belgium.
On the subject of bakeries, I have often described Belgium as being a few decades behind the UK in terms of shopping and choice of products. Bakeries are an example of where Belgium has retained specialised shops that produce some amazingly nice tarts, bread and other baked goods. In the UK, unless you happen to live in London, it is rare to see a small independent bakers. In fact they died out a long time ago when chains such as Greggs replaced them, along with the growth of the out of town supermarkets. Greggs, believe it or not, operate in Belgium, only here they are a sandwich shop and you will get looks of horror if you refer to them as 'Greggs the bakers'.
Apart from a range of freshly baked bread, which is just divine, they also do traditional cheesecakes, fruit tarts, croissants, raisin bread, sugar bread and pastries. There are normally queues in most of these bakers especially on Sunday, even Christmas day. This is quite a surprise for a country that is shut on Sundays and during holidays, in stark contrast to the UK where holidays are used as a commercial opportunity.
In contrast when you go to a supermarket you will still get a reasonable range of bread but it is not as good a quality as the bakers. In the UK of course, the supermarkets produce as much in the bread aisle as Belgian supermarkets stock wine in their wine aisle!
You must beware that as quick as you can say 'can I have a long white' they have it in the bread cutting machine and it is being quite thinly sliced. There is no choice of thickness, just cut or uncut. If you like your doorsteps or anything more than 1/2 cm thick then you have to stop them by saying 'niet sneden!' The good points about getting sliced is that it controls how much you eat each time you have a sandwich and also it saves on the mess when you cut the bread. The downside is that the bread isn't decently thick enough to hold a proper filling and it goes off quicker. Picky I know but you really want it to be able to hold some filling rather than spilling it all over the place when you eat.
Most Belgians order a Christmas cake, Kerststronk (Christmas Log), but this one is absolutely plastered in fresh light cream and is based on a sponge with fruit. It has heart attack written all over it, which for a nation that is slim and healthy, is quite surprising. Bakeries are a big plus in favour of Belgium.
Kwak One of my Favourite Beers
As suggested I have taken a photo of some Kwak alongside the glass following on from my earlier post. Kwak is family brewed since 1791, best served between 5 and 6 degrees it is quite strong at 8.4%. It offers no further comment apart from saying it is an 'uncomparable Belgian top fermentation beer with a unique taste'.
In order to take this picture I had to go out and buy six bottles, you never know, one or two may well have been drunk before I managed to take the photos! I took the opportunity to buy a few others too in readiness for the Summer and a few parties. In all I spent 140 euros stocking up and bought the following:
- Tournee Generale.
- Grimbergen Blonde.
- Wolf 7.
- Karmeliet Tripel.
- Ename Tripel.
- Oude Keuze.
- Black Passion (only one of these to try it out).
- Troll.
Friday, 26 April 2013
Driving - How To Fit In
When I came to Belgium one of the most noticeable differences was the driving style. It is difficult to know where to start with this one and of course I am generalising when I describe the habits that both UK and Belgian drivers have.
My contact with Belgian drivers before I moved over was limited to the odd times that I had transited through France and seen the dreaded red number plate hovering what seemed like inches from the back of my car, so close in fact that I thought the guy behind should be wearing a condom! Clearly this is considered very aggressive and rude to British drivers and does not happen that often on British roads, some may disagree.
There are several things going on here that need to be explained. Most of the time the driver behind is not being aggressive but merely indicating that they would like to pass. If they leave any more than a cars length then another driver will inevitably get between them and the car they wish to pass and this will not do. If you wait patiently at what you might regard as a safe distance, maybe a gap of 3 car lengths then you will be sat there for some time as the car in front will interpret that as just following normally and not wishing to pass. You can tell the aggressive ones as they will have approached at very high speed and will have flashed their lights to let you know that you should get the hell out of the way.
On the subject of flashing main beam, don't do it because it is seen as aggressive and confuses people if you do it as a signal to let them out. There are no friendly signals and people very, very rarely let you out ahead of them. In fact they are pretty ruthless about not giving way at all if they can help it. There not quite as bad as Danish drivers who will speed up as you overtake even if they are driving bloody tractors, they just get competitive when you overtake!
During rush hour at certain places, it seems like there are no legal restrictions at times, of course there are but the rules just go out of the window when there are serious traffic jams. Do not be surprised to see cars and lorries passing queues of traffic trying to get off the motorway only to cut in at the last minute and often across the solid white lines, which would usually attract a large fine. I used to get a bit hacked off by this but I am guilty of using this technique myself, although not crossing the solid white lines, there is only so far I will go!
There are some things that you need to be aware of regarding motorways, firstly they have some very complicated junctions when getting on and off. In fact it is a bit of a flying circus at times as you switch from one lane to the next as others do the same in the opposite direction. You have to have faith and go for it, if you hesitate then you lose. If you exit from the motorway then you cannot easily re-join the one you have left. Effectively all junctions are restricted, you don't have roundabouts like you do in the UK when you realise that you have made a mistake and you can re-join. In some cases you have to drive some distance, in others you can get back on fairly quickly. be aware that there is normally at least one lane for left and one for right, watch for the nutters who do not know where they are going.
That reminds me Belgian towns and cities have two names, one in Dutch and one in French. You will find yourself driving towards Bergen whilst in the Flemish part of the country and then it changes to Mons when you cross the boundary into Wallonia. If you have a sat nav then fine but otherwise try and find out what both names are before you set out!
There is a rule that where there are no give way markings then the priority is to give way to the traffic coming from the right, even if it looks like you are on the main road. It must come to quite a nasty shock for those who get T boned because they expect the other driver to stop. This is usually in towns and cities, but also be aware that some people don't pay attention to this rule either!
If there is an accident then it is not just an inconvenience to those involved, even very minor knocks will require the presence of a policeman to decide who is responsible. They will not get the vehicles out of the way and therefore you can imagine the monumental delays that result when there is an accident on the motorway.
Car parks and manoeuvring in general. The other drivers will not allow you to complete any manoeuvring on the road, if you are turning, parking, reversing or anything like that then they expect you to stop and let them pass. Now this is quite interesting in a car park because they speed past like Michael Schumacher knowing full well that you cannot see them as you try and reverse out of a space. Almost all drivers park facing in, ie they have to reverse to get out. All I can say is be careful or have someone guide you out. There is a good bit to this, which I really appreciate. If the road is blocked on one side then the driver whose side is clear has right of way, unlike the UK where it is a game of chicken. The drivers in Belgium do respect this rule, mostly. Roundabouts I have to say are a relatively new concept here, often four drivers will arrive at once and none will go onto the roundabout as they think the first to arrive has priority. In other cases they will all belt toward the roundabout in a bid to make it first and it gets quite hairy. The other nice trick is when some drivers think that the car that is on the roundabout will stop as they apply the right of way belonging to the car coming from the right, no, quite frightening at times I can assure you.
I think that is all for now, more about motoring later
My contact with Belgian drivers before I moved over was limited to the odd times that I had transited through France and seen the dreaded red number plate hovering what seemed like inches from the back of my car, so close in fact that I thought the guy behind should be wearing a condom! Clearly this is considered very aggressive and rude to British drivers and does not happen that often on British roads, some may disagree.
There are several things going on here that need to be explained. Most of the time the driver behind is not being aggressive but merely indicating that they would like to pass. If they leave any more than a cars length then another driver will inevitably get between them and the car they wish to pass and this will not do. If you wait patiently at what you might regard as a safe distance, maybe a gap of 3 car lengths then you will be sat there for some time as the car in front will interpret that as just following normally and not wishing to pass. You can tell the aggressive ones as they will have approached at very high speed and will have flashed their lights to let you know that you should get the hell out of the way.
On the subject of flashing main beam, don't do it because it is seen as aggressive and confuses people if you do it as a signal to let them out. There are no friendly signals and people very, very rarely let you out ahead of them. In fact they are pretty ruthless about not giving way at all if they can help it. There not quite as bad as Danish drivers who will speed up as you overtake even if they are driving bloody tractors, they just get competitive when you overtake!
During rush hour at certain places, it seems like there are no legal restrictions at times, of course there are but the rules just go out of the window when there are serious traffic jams. Do not be surprised to see cars and lorries passing queues of traffic trying to get off the motorway only to cut in at the last minute and often across the solid white lines, which would usually attract a large fine. I used to get a bit hacked off by this but I am guilty of using this technique myself, although not crossing the solid white lines, there is only so far I will go!
There are some things that you need to be aware of regarding motorways, firstly they have some very complicated junctions when getting on and off. In fact it is a bit of a flying circus at times as you switch from one lane to the next as others do the same in the opposite direction. You have to have faith and go for it, if you hesitate then you lose. If you exit from the motorway then you cannot easily re-join the one you have left. Effectively all junctions are restricted, you don't have roundabouts like you do in the UK when you realise that you have made a mistake and you can re-join. In some cases you have to drive some distance, in others you can get back on fairly quickly. be aware that there is normally at least one lane for left and one for right, watch for the nutters who do not know where they are going.
That reminds me Belgian towns and cities have two names, one in Dutch and one in French. You will find yourself driving towards Bergen whilst in the Flemish part of the country and then it changes to Mons when you cross the boundary into Wallonia. If you have a sat nav then fine but otherwise try and find out what both names are before you set out!
There is a rule that where there are no give way markings then the priority is to give way to the traffic coming from the right, even if it looks like you are on the main road. It must come to quite a nasty shock for those who get T boned because they expect the other driver to stop. This is usually in towns and cities, but also be aware that some people don't pay attention to this rule either!
If there is an accident then it is not just an inconvenience to those involved, even very minor knocks will require the presence of a policeman to decide who is responsible. They will not get the vehicles out of the way and therefore you can imagine the monumental delays that result when there is an accident on the motorway.
Car parks and manoeuvring in general. The other drivers will not allow you to complete any manoeuvring on the road, if you are turning, parking, reversing or anything like that then they expect you to stop and let them pass. Now this is quite interesting in a car park because they speed past like Michael Schumacher knowing full well that you cannot see them as you try and reverse out of a space. Almost all drivers park facing in, ie they have to reverse to get out. All I can say is be careful or have someone guide you out. There is a good bit to this, which I really appreciate. If the road is blocked on one side then the driver whose side is clear has right of way, unlike the UK where it is a game of chicken. The drivers in Belgium do respect this rule, mostly. Roundabouts I have to say are a relatively new concept here, often four drivers will arrive at once and none will go onto the roundabout as they think the first to arrive has priority. In other cases they will all belt toward the roundabout in a bid to make it first and it gets quite hairy. The other nice trick is when some drivers think that the car that is on the roundabout will stop as they apply the right of way belonging to the car coming from the right, no, quite frightening at times I can assure you.
I think that is all for now, more about motoring later
Thursday, 25 April 2013
A Different World
The problem with me writing this blog now is that I have become accustomed to the Belgian way of life. The longer I am here the more I forget what the differences are between the UK and here, although there are some quite fundamental differences in culture and way of living.
I was chatting to some relatives about trips they have made to London and what they thought about the place. I was quite fascinated to hear that their first thought was 'this place has never been occupied by the Germans'. I was thinking that everyone seems to think that London reflects the UK in terms of stereotypical image. I have to be honest and say that I did not really have a view on Belgium or what it was like. I had heard of Belgian beers but could not name one. I thought Stella Artois was French as much as I thought Antwerp was a Dutch city. Stella is regarded as a pils, a relatively weak and standard beer, nothing special. In the UK it is or was regarded as a premium beer known as 'Wife Beater'. The people of Antwerp are quite special, so they will tell you... I quite like Antwerp mainly because I have some lovely family and good friends there, they are proud of their city and I don't mind if they like telling me this. I am quite proud of Newcastle (even though I am from Gateshead).
One of the big differences that you can see without too much trouble is that there do not seem to be the very large out of town retail parks and shopping centres that have sprung up all over the place in the UK. 24 hour supermarkets do not exist in Belgium and choice of products and indeed competition seems a bit thin. There are retail parks but they tend to be smaller and open for shorter periods of time. You really have to get it right sometimes as a lot of shops close for one of the weekdays, to compensate for being open on Saturday I presume.
What you cannot readily see and is quite a big difference is the taxation and employment law. Belgium has quite high taxation compared to the UK and some incredibly strict and protective employment laws. This means that the workforce is not as flexible and that there is a fair degree of tax evasion that goes on, so called black economy.
When I first arrived and sampled the local cuisine I was very impressed with both the value and quality of the food. Even in everyday cafes and restaurants the standard of food is very high. This is very different to the quality of food I have found in the UK. The price was also very good, although it has become quite expensive since I arrived and relatively speaking I think the UK offers better value when you match the quality. You can get caught out if you go to a tourist trap but you would have to be quite unfortunate, the best advice is to walk past the first place you see after getting off the train or bus and have a look down some side streets and alleyways.
One of the most difficult things I have found is deciding what drink to go for. You do get used to the range and after a while it somehow seems like it is not much of a choice. In reality you can have anything up to10-15 quality beers on average and they will be different depending upon the town or region you are in. Now, I am a cider drinker and so to be presented with beers was not easy for me. As I have got older I have been a bit more adventurous and willing to try recommended beers. You have to take a chance as there is such a range. After a while you do acquire a range of favourite beers, more of them in later blogs. The UK on the other hand is dominated by big brands and although there is a drive to have real ales, you have to seek them out. I have the added bonus of living just around the corner from a large specialist beer warehouse, quite handy for BBQs!
I will need to come up with my recommended beer list but then my tastes are probably not quite so normal as a UK beer drinker. Be warned though, they are potent, it really does not take much to hit home. One of my favourites, although quite strong, is Kwak. The name comes from the sound it makes as you drink it. I need to explain that the glass, as with pretty much all Belgian beers, is a particular shape. If you can picture the yard of ale glass which has a spherical bulb at one end and a flare rim at the drinking end, well the Kwak glass is a mini version of that. It comes in a wooden stand and it was designed to be drunk by coach drivers as they drove their coaches (horse drawn ones in case you were wondering). As you get to the end of the drink you can hear the kwak noise and you either end up catching the beer or wearing it.
Well this thread has become rather specialised so I will close it off for now.
I was chatting to some relatives about trips they have made to London and what they thought about the place. I was quite fascinated to hear that their first thought was 'this place has never been occupied by the Germans'. I was thinking that everyone seems to think that London reflects the UK in terms of stereotypical image. I have to be honest and say that I did not really have a view on Belgium or what it was like. I had heard of Belgian beers but could not name one. I thought Stella Artois was French as much as I thought Antwerp was a Dutch city. Stella is regarded as a pils, a relatively weak and standard beer, nothing special. In the UK it is or was regarded as a premium beer known as 'Wife Beater'. The people of Antwerp are quite special, so they will tell you... I quite like Antwerp mainly because I have some lovely family and good friends there, they are proud of their city and I don't mind if they like telling me this. I am quite proud of Newcastle (even though I am from Gateshead).
One of the big differences that you can see without too much trouble is that there do not seem to be the very large out of town retail parks and shopping centres that have sprung up all over the place in the UK. 24 hour supermarkets do not exist in Belgium and choice of products and indeed competition seems a bit thin. There are retail parks but they tend to be smaller and open for shorter periods of time. You really have to get it right sometimes as a lot of shops close for one of the weekdays, to compensate for being open on Saturday I presume.
What you cannot readily see and is quite a big difference is the taxation and employment law. Belgium has quite high taxation compared to the UK and some incredibly strict and protective employment laws. This means that the workforce is not as flexible and that there is a fair degree of tax evasion that goes on, so called black economy.
When I first arrived and sampled the local cuisine I was very impressed with both the value and quality of the food. Even in everyday cafes and restaurants the standard of food is very high. This is very different to the quality of food I have found in the UK. The price was also very good, although it has become quite expensive since I arrived and relatively speaking I think the UK offers better value when you match the quality. You can get caught out if you go to a tourist trap but you would have to be quite unfortunate, the best advice is to walk past the first place you see after getting off the train or bus and have a look down some side streets and alleyways.
One of the most difficult things I have found is deciding what drink to go for. You do get used to the range and after a while it somehow seems like it is not much of a choice. In reality you can have anything up to10-15 quality beers on average and they will be different depending upon the town or region you are in. Now, I am a cider drinker and so to be presented with beers was not easy for me. As I have got older I have been a bit more adventurous and willing to try recommended beers. You have to take a chance as there is such a range. After a while you do acquire a range of favourite beers, more of them in later blogs. The UK on the other hand is dominated by big brands and although there is a drive to have real ales, you have to seek them out. I have the added bonus of living just around the corner from a large specialist beer warehouse, quite handy for BBQs!
I will need to come up with my recommended beer list but then my tastes are probably not quite so normal as a UK beer drinker. Be warned though, they are potent, it really does not take much to hit home. One of my favourites, although quite strong, is Kwak. The name comes from the sound it makes as you drink it. I need to explain that the glass, as with pretty much all Belgian beers, is a particular shape. If you can picture the yard of ale glass which has a spherical bulb at one end and a flare rim at the drinking end, well the Kwak glass is a mini version of that. It comes in a wooden stand and it was designed to be drunk by coach drivers as they drove their coaches (horse drawn ones in case you were wondering). As you get to the end of the drink you can hear the kwak noise and you either end up catching the beer or wearing it.
Well this thread has become rather specialised so I will close it off for now.
Monday, 22 April 2013
The Antwerp 10 Mile - 21 Apr 13
As part of a plan to try and control my weight and general fitness, I have been running for reasonably long distances. My military life requires a basic level of fitness but you would be surprised how unfit you can actually be in the military. Anyway, I have been participating in 10 mile runs for the last 5 years or so. I did my first Antwerp 10 mile with my sister-in-law back in 2009 (it was a mutually supporting effort from both of us). I have done the run four times now and the last time was yesterday.
My training regime has varied and as with most I suppose I can never do enough preparation. This time round I did not really follow the usual pattern. I got back up to the required endurance but was only running once each weekend. I used to do three short and one long run, which was much better but this last time I have found it very difficult to just do the training I need. The result was that I was a bit slower and that combined with the heat made this year's run quite a mental test as well as one of endurance.
The weather looked promising and cool in the early afternoon but more or less on cue the sun burst through and there was very little breeze to cool the runners down. Due to recent Boston Marathon bombings, from what I can guess, the authorities decided to do away with the portable toilets this year. The result was a lot of men using any bush or tree they could find to relieve themselves. The women unfortunately had to suffer with the limited facilities they could find.
An and my mother-in-law Edie came with me as they had last year to see me off and then go for a nice coffee during the 1 hour and 40 minute wait for my return.
When I joined the pack at the 1hr 35min line (ambitious as it turned out) it was crowded to say the least. I did not remember it being so packed as it was, people were really squeezing in. When the race started it took around 15 minutes just to walk to the start. Unusually I wore my headphones this time, which may have been a mistake because the sun really brought out the crowds. I was also carrying a bottle of water, although there were plenty of drinking stops on the way.
The start was reasonable and all the way to the Kennedy tunnel it seemed to be going well. I think both the sun and the kilometre signs started to play on my mind as the 8km sign came up I was already quite tired and feeling the pinch. Occasionally the music lifted me as I ran but the more I went on the harder it became.
As we ran along the Scheldt this was a long straight section with little breeze and exposed to the glare of the sun. Every now and again there would be people attempting to cross the path of the runners, although there were no collisions that I saw. As I turned in toward the centre of town I was not sure how much I had to do before I made it to the dreaded tunnel, it seemed way too far and I was fighting the urge to slow to a walk. I kept going and on hitting the 11km mark it all became a battle of willpower. My breathing was fine but my legs were just exhausted. I was being overtaken by quite a few people by this stage, although I still managed to pass the odd one or two right up to the end.
Eventually I saw the entrance to the dreaded Waasland tunnel, but agonisingly I had to run past and double back as part of the course. There was no respite from the sun and I was on complete auto as I made my way around towards the entrance. The Waasland tunnel is maybe 1.5km in length and it seems to never end. I started down the slope, not having the energy to increase my pace on the downward leg. as I descended I spotted the first runner who had given up and was bent double in the tunnel. As I progressed further, with no light in sight and even no upward slope in sight I caught sight of the policemen on their pushbikes rushing against the flow of the runners. There was a casualty in the tunnel. Slowly approached the medics and passed just as the ambulance was coming down behind me. As with 2009 the ambulance blared out its siren, which in a tunnel was not the best thing to do. We all knew it was there because the policemen were blowing their whistles. Not long after I passed the casualty the ambulance with an escort of cyclists and motorbike policemen made their way past, again the ambulance blared out its siren. I still had not gone far enough to see the light.
Eventually I caught sight of the entrance but it seemed to take forever as I jogged slowly towards it. What was worse is that I knew there was an upward slope and another 1.5km to do when I got out. I was really pushing it now and was utterly determined not to give up. I was not in pain as such just lifting my deadweight legs one after the other to drive myself forwards. I had serious concerns that if I stopped I may just collapse.
It is worth adding that the tunnel despite being in the shade, was stifling and suffocating. The fresh air and the breeze as I exited the end was a lift which I needed to press on. Not far now, but I had not seen either the 14 or the 15km sign. I knew I was close though. As I rounded the last straight some of the other runners, spurred on in the knowledge that the end was near, sprinted off. I could not have increased my pace even if my life had depended on it. I then saw the 15km sign and my heart sank, I was determined to get it done and was pleasantly surprised to see the 500m sign just a moment later. The 15km sign should have been on the other side of the course, I had already passed it!
I aimed for each marker in turn now, the 400, 300, 200, 150, 100 and then finish. As I crossed the line, there was another casualty who was being attended to, maybe they had pushed too hard at the end? I now needed fluids and sugar. I did not collapse although I was quite shaky on my feet and thoroughly spent. I made my way through to get the isotonic drinks and eventually the medal. This year I felt I had to fight hard for it. It was a welcoming sight to see An and Edie waiting at our pre-arranged RV. I had to sit down for a moment, An was most concerned that I should not sit where the men had been using the bushes as a toilet!
Another run complete, next year beckons.
My training regime has varied and as with most I suppose I can never do enough preparation. This time round I did not really follow the usual pattern. I got back up to the required endurance but was only running once each weekend. I used to do three short and one long run, which was much better but this last time I have found it very difficult to just do the training I need. The result was that I was a bit slower and that combined with the heat made this year's run quite a mental test as well as one of endurance.
The weather looked promising and cool in the early afternoon but more or less on cue the sun burst through and there was very little breeze to cool the runners down. Due to recent Boston Marathon bombings, from what I can guess, the authorities decided to do away with the portable toilets this year. The result was a lot of men using any bush or tree they could find to relieve themselves. The women unfortunately had to suffer with the limited facilities they could find.
An and my mother-in-law Edie came with me as they had last year to see me off and then go for a nice coffee during the 1 hour and 40 minute wait for my return.
When I joined the pack at the 1hr 35min line (ambitious as it turned out) it was crowded to say the least. I did not remember it being so packed as it was, people were really squeezing in. When the race started it took around 15 minutes just to walk to the start. Unusually I wore my headphones this time, which may have been a mistake because the sun really brought out the crowds. I was also carrying a bottle of water, although there were plenty of drinking stops on the way.
The start was reasonable and all the way to the Kennedy tunnel it seemed to be going well. I think both the sun and the kilometre signs started to play on my mind as the 8km sign came up I was already quite tired and feeling the pinch. Occasionally the music lifted me as I ran but the more I went on the harder it became.
As we ran along the Scheldt this was a long straight section with little breeze and exposed to the glare of the sun. Every now and again there would be people attempting to cross the path of the runners, although there were no collisions that I saw. As I turned in toward the centre of town I was not sure how much I had to do before I made it to the dreaded tunnel, it seemed way too far and I was fighting the urge to slow to a walk. I kept going and on hitting the 11km mark it all became a battle of willpower. My breathing was fine but my legs were just exhausted. I was being overtaken by quite a few people by this stage, although I still managed to pass the odd one or two right up to the end.
Eventually I saw the entrance to the dreaded Waasland tunnel, but agonisingly I had to run past and double back as part of the course. There was no respite from the sun and I was on complete auto as I made my way around towards the entrance. The Waasland tunnel is maybe 1.5km in length and it seems to never end. I started down the slope, not having the energy to increase my pace on the downward leg. as I descended I spotted the first runner who had given up and was bent double in the tunnel. As I progressed further, with no light in sight and even no upward slope in sight I caught sight of the policemen on their pushbikes rushing against the flow of the runners. There was a casualty in the tunnel. Slowly approached the medics and passed just as the ambulance was coming down behind me. As with 2009 the ambulance blared out its siren, which in a tunnel was not the best thing to do. We all knew it was there because the policemen were blowing their whistles. Not long after I passed the casualty the ambulance with an escort of cyclists and motorbike policemen made their way past, again the ambulance blared out its siren. I still had not gone far enough to see the light.
Eventually I caught sight of the entrance but it seemed to take forever as I jogged slowly towards it. What was worse is that I knew there was an upward slope and another 1.5km to do when I got out. I was really pushing it now and was utterly determined not to give up. I was not in pain as such just lifting my deadweight legs one after the other to drive myself forwards. I had serious concerns that if I stopped I may just collapse.
It is worth adding that the tunnel despite being in the shade, was stifling and suffocating. The fresh air and the breeze as I exited the end was a lift which I needed to press on. Not far now, but I had not seen either the 14 or the 15km sign. I knew I was close though. As I rounded the last straight some of the other runners, spurred on in the knowledge that the end was near, sprinted off. I could not have increased my pace even if my life had depended on it. I then saw the 15km sign and my heart sank, I was determined to get it done and was pleasantly surprised to see the 500m sign just a moment later. The 15km sign should have been on the other side of the course, I had already passed it!
I aimed for each marker in turn now, the 400, 300, 200, 150, 100 and then finish. As I crossed the line, there was another casualty who was being attended to, maybe they had pushed too hard at the end? I now needed fluids and sugar. I did not collapse although I was quite shaky on my feet and thoroughly spent. I made my way through to get the isotonic drinks and eventually the medal. This year I felt I had to fight hard for it. It was a welcoming sight to see An and Edie waiting at our pre-arranged RV. I had to sit down for a moment, An was most concerned that I should not sit where the men had been using the bushes as a toilet!
Another run complete, next year beckons.
Discovering Belgium
This really should have started some time ago when I first met my future wife. I had booked a horse riding holiday in Italy and took my mother along as she had not been to too many place before and I thought it would be a nice trip away. Little did I realise that I would meet An, a Flemish girl, who would later become my wife.
The first meeting did not get off too well as I recall. We were all waiting in Pisa airport for the transport to take us to the stables. There were six of us in all, a vet from Bristol, two girls from Belgium, Jacques a pensioner from Belgium and my mother and I from Gateshead. I cannot remember the vet's name but the other girl from Belgium was called Sabine. We were picked up by Sadio the husband of the lady who ran the stables, Donatella. During the trip I offered my sweets as an ice-breaker, no ice was broken...
That was back in October 2005. In October 2007 we bought a house together and in May 2008 we were married. I might add that I am in the Royal Navy and was working away from home for most of the time. I will recollect more at a later stage but for now I will sign off this and give a more up to date blog of my activities this weekend.
The first meeting did not get off too well as I recall. We were all waiting in Pisa airport for the transport to take us to the stables. There were six of us in all, a vet from Bristol, two girls from Belgium, Jacques a pensioner from Belgium and my mother and I from Gateshead. I cannot remember the vet's name but the other girl from Belgium was called Sabine. We were picked up by Sadio the husband of the lady who ran the stables, Donatella. During the trip I offered my sweets as an ice-breaker, no ice was broken...
That was back in October 2005. In October 2007 we bought a house together and in May 2008 we were married. I might add that I am in the Royal Navy and was working away from home for most of the time. I will recollect more at a later stage but for now I will sign off this and give a more up to date blog of my activities this weekend.
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