Patti here: the ride from Brussels to Namur was a long one – 72 km – but altitude-wise, not punishing. It was a hot one, though. We used all of our water, let’s just say. And I required cookies.
There was a stretch of shitty cobblestone. I don’t like cobblestone. My bike skips sideways, unpredictably, and it’s plain old, hard work to make your way over uneven surfaces, especially on an ascent. By this point in the ride I was in a very bad mood about cobblestone. I’ll shut up now about it, but… well, you’ll see.
I required a snack after that. Happily, at the top of the hill we stopped (t.b.h. for a Green Door for John) and I remembered that I had a stash of Speculoos, right from the source in Brussels, in my pannier.
We finally arrived in Namur which I have to confess we knew nothing about. You guys: Namur is gorgeous. If you’re going to Belgium, go!!!
We went through a somewhat typical situation where you arrive at the address of where you think your lodgings should be, re-google that address, read the tiny plaque at the front door, ring the bell, phone the number and eventually someone shows up and shows you where to put your panniers, how to operate door codes, explains to you that your room is basically up a spiral staircase two floors up and the bathroom is down the hall from the bedroom, runs you down the sidewalk to a garage (with quasi complicated locks) where you will stow your bikes (because, t.b.h. you’re kind of on the side of a rockface on a mountain where there are roads barely wide enough to accommodate cars and pedestrians so where the heck would you even house two bulky recumbents?), and you finally get settled, showered, plug in all necessary batteries (bikes’, laptops’, walkie talkies’) and then you decide to go for a walk.
(By now it’s 4:30, you’re a little hungry, a lot tired, but you have to stay awake until, say…. eight p.m.? You have to walk. If you sit down, you’ll fall asleep.)
Obviously, we decided to hike up to the magnificent Citadelle.
(Seriously, google Namur. The place is gorgeous.)
Squint. John is just beneath that yellow flag blowing in the ferocious wind. I am well away from the walls’ edges, hyperventilating.
Ihad a glass of wine at the top – John, a zero-beer – and fortified by that we decided to continue on up to the very top. There was a local runners’ group happening, the runners were just summiting when we arrived. Bravo to them, that was one steep and windy trail.
(Why do I still get emotional when I’m watching runners/cyclists/swimmers finish races??? I always will. There is so much at stake for all of them.)
By now we were at the top of the Citadelle and it made perfect sense to ride the cable car down from there, across the river, into the old city.
Vertigo and an engineer’s innate fear of cable cars be damned, we decided to take the leap.
Here we are, pretending we are not afraid.
Once we arrived in old town, we headed for a restaurant that had been highly recommended on Trip Advisor (my travel bible) for excellent, local flavours and reasonable prices. We weren’t disappointed. John sensibly opted for a salad.
I opted for a very rich mushrooms and pasta! (Also, geepers, eating is expensive in Euros. Multiply by 1.6.)
And then…. to bed. Obvi. That was a huge day.
Sweet!
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You look like a couple of newlyweds. Gorgeous pics on the ride🤮. Brave👏👏👏😬
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