Luxembourg

Well whatayaknow? True to the tradition of missing ferries, we missed our Tunnel train to France at the start of our trip to Luxembourg. But on this occasion, it wasn't due to fannying about or because I was tired after taking Nadine to the airport at 0430 hrs for her flight to Germany, but because the Excess Baggage Company had not processed the gear we are shipping to Australia as they should have done, but instead had stacked it in their warehouse and left it.  Nadine sorted this nearly 10 days ago, but when the man came to collect our boxes, his card reader was not working, so we couldn't pay. "An invoice will come tomorrow" he said. But did it? No of course not. And having chased them, it transpires that he didn't hand in any paperwork at all, thus stranding our eight boxes in their warehouse. So we had a conversation, I redid the papers, emailed them, and paid. The I complained and got a substantial discount for their corporate fuckwittery. So beware if using Excess Baggage; monitor them.

I wanted one last long ride on the Hornet before I have to sell it. I love that bike and its fab to ride, but unfortunately, it has to go. Its already 12 years old, albeit in exceptional nick for its age and very low mileage. But given that I have no intention of coming back to the UK other than for the odd short time, there is no point keeping it. And I am certainly not paying insurance companies for a bike that I'm not riding. I will have to do that with poor old pizza bike, but that is so cheap, its almost irrelevant.

Anyway, sorting that out meant we missed our train but got the next one an hour later. However, with the hour time difference, we lost two hours, so decided to camp in Belgium rather than pressing on to Luxembourg as planned. We found a nice little site in the middle of nowhere, had some grub, then slept.

The following morning it was pissing down. Proper Belgian rain, drizzle then more rain, which lasted all day. Needless to say, we got soaked from the start and stayed soaked all day. And the tent was dripping. 

In fact, the weather only let up as we crossed the Luxembourg border. Its a bit like the England/ Wales thing. Neither are known for their stunning weather but one is so much worse than the other.

We found the campsite at Kockelscheuer, just outside Luxembourg City. I've been here before, so knew what to expect. It's fine, and cost us €13.00 each per night. So we stuck the tent up and let it dry in the breeze. It couldn't have got much wetter if we'd chucked it in the river.

So Wednesday and it was time to explore. We headed down to Schengen where the treaty was signed - the one that got rid of all signee borders in Europe.  It's on the Moselle River, a small town that now boasts the European Centre to mark its place in history. But we missed it first and rode over the bridge, ending up in Germany by accident. But that was ok - no borders - so we circled the roundabout and rode back to Lux.

Luxembourg this side, Germany over the water. Apparent.y when WW2 started, German soldiers disguised as civilians walked across from The Fatherland, and assisted by Germans already living in Luxembourg, tried blowing up a few bridges and messing things around. The Luxembourg Army (very small) didn't even begin to fight, and the old Germans quickly got control. They banned the speaking of French, and decreed any French sounding names such as Henri or Pierre, be changed to more Germanic sounding names like Henrik and Pieter. Luxembourgers were considered a Germanic race by the Nazis, which actually saved them.

There was even a bit of the Berlin Wall at Schengen. Weird to think that few borders separate countries across most of Western Europe, yet this border divided a country, and not even that long ago. Certainly in my lifetime, and it shows how things can progress if people stop poncing about and work together.

After that and on to Remich then over to some valley where there are castles, mostly perched on valley sides, looking all medieval and fairy tale like. 

Had some lunch in a restaurant by the Moselle where the owner was amusingly indifferent to us; she worked very hard trying to not smile and be an old sourpuss.  I don't think she liked me removing the prawns and tuna from my VEGETARIAN salad. Fish. Nasty. If I'd have wanted a plate full of smelly old dead bodies, I'd have asked for it. She was a right old minge, so I left her a penny tip. 

Just along from the restaurant, on the Luxembourg side, we rode through a small town where it seemed that most of the people were out, standing on the river bank and looking at something. So we stopped to see what it was all about, and realised that a huge metal bridge was being lowered into place. It was a massive operation, and they were positioning the centre piece before putting the end bits on. A man told us that it had been barged up the river on pontoons, having been made as one piece but then cut so that they knew it would all fit back together. It was a really impressive sight and not the sort of job to get your measuring sums wrong on. 

We then jumped on a little ferry over the river to Germany - intended crossing this time. 

Once we'd crossed, we rode back along the opposing bank and saw it from the other side. Turns out there had been an old bridge there and the Germans had saved blocks of the old stone work, maybe for facing the edges.

More exploring on Thursday and Friday, this time via the bank to change a pile of Euro coins for notes or bigger coins. I had already sorted them into one Euro piles, and the bank said 'sure, no problem, go and see that man over there'. Unfortunately ' that man over there' was in a bad mood and initially refused, but gave in when the other man told him to do it. Maybe he was related to that old minge from yesterday, but he grudgingly swapped coins for notes then said " I will do it this once, but now you must leave and never come back. Ever." Thanks. All I was doing was changing some money, not robbing them, and I paid their €5.00 fee. But then again, he was wearing a peppermint green shirt and a brown tie, and probably will have to work another 20 years until he can retire and do as he wants  - unlike me who is doing it now….and he was about my age.

We used his money to buy two tanks of fuel, before heading up to Vianden. The castle there is pretty cool, as is the river and the cafe where we scoffed some lunch. 

After that, we rode up north. 

One thing that Lux has going for it is the road system. Smooth, empty and fast and of course great to ride. 

We spent all afternoon doing that and didn't go to Germany once, although we did end up in Belgium by accident. A quick but unproductive diversion back through Luxembourg City to McDonalds to use their wifi - logged in Ok but it was so slow that it would have been quicker to write a letter for the info we needed - then  back to the campsite for a few glasses of wine and grub.

Luxembourg is nice but its a bit boring; not a lot goes on here and we were a bit over it. by Friday evening. So on Saturday, we headed for the Fatherland proper, taking the back roads to Wormdange before heading over the Moselle  and on towards Saarburg. The roads were similarly empty as those in Luxembourg, but were noticeably rougher and more chewed up. However, they were still fantastic to ride.

After Saarburg, we headed for Saarbrucken, some 60kms down river, and had some lunch there in a square in the old town. That's when I suddenly remembered I couldn't speak German and so of course couldn't read the menu. Nor could Gordon, but he'd forgotten his glasses anyway and also can't speak German, so we had no hope.  In the end, I remembered how to say ' no meat, no fish thanks' and ended up with a huge bowl of soup, almost the size of a washing up bowl, which contained everything else but meat or fish. It was lovely but it took me ages to get through, the level staying the same no matter how much I shovelled. 

After a bit of a wander round the town, looking at nothing in particular but spotting some funny translations.

But serious hair crimes seemed to be the local passion. My barnet is not known for it's careful coiffuring - but come on.

Neither of are are motorway fans, but they are a useful tool from getting to places quickly. And it made a bit of a change to open the throttle and just ride, unhindered by traffic or speed cameras. As a result, we were back in Luxembourg almost before we'd left, so headed to the European Centre at Schengen for a coffee, then back to the site to get our riding stuff off and sit in the by now hot sun. Lovely. Oh and drink beer.

One of the best bits about travelling, apart from the sites and interesting stuff you come across, is the funny sounding place names. Luxembourg has a good few of those. Favourites so far are Wormdange, Fingig, Sprinkange, Differdange, Rippig, Dickweiler, Pratz, Bigonville, and Bill. Fantastic, but I'm sure they are equally amused by some of ours. There's even a place called Perle´ which is not a bit like the Purely I know.

The ride back was OK, although the last 100 miles was very windy and buffetty. We also got a bit wet, so rather than camp and get even wetter, we stayed at a Campanille in Calais. We were home by 0930 the following morning, surprising one son and the cat, both of whom were fast asleep in bed.

Whitstable

Nipped down to Whitstable for an afternoon yesterday and very nice it was too. The weather was great which helped, because it can be a bit bleak down that way when its cold or raining or blowing a gale. Unusually for us too, we went in the car rather than on bikes. Yes I know, but it's up for sale and I forgot and filled it with fuel recently, so we had to use it or loose it.

Anyway, for those of you who don't know, Whitstable is on the north Kent coast, a bit along from Herne Bay and Margate.  Its actually in the Thames Estuary rather than on the sea and like all that bit of land on both sides, used to be a day trip mecca for Londoners thanks to the advent of the railway. That's what started it all, but now of course everybody gets there under their own steam (ha).

And Whitstable is particularly nice now that its been tarted up a bit, but not too much. That happened a while back because it was very tatty at one time, but now the fixing has blended in and the place seems to have flourished yet kept its individuality and interest. Lots of little info boards dotted around and things tidied up. Nice.

Peter Cushing used to live in Whitstable, and there are markers to him all over the place. He was a big movie star in his day ( Sherlock Holmes, the Abominable Snowman etc) The town cinema is no longer a picture house but a pub ( I think a Wetherspoons) called The Peter Cushing, and decked out as a 1930's cinema minus the screen and seats, but its all art deco and really is quite cool.

Whitstable used to be a major oyster, winkle and cockle fishing port and this still goes on, only to a much lesser extent.

Turns out the Oyster festival had finished yesterday but there was evidence of it along the beach, with piles of shells.

Along the seafront along by the tiny port, many of the sail lofts and net sheds have been converted to little shops and there is quite an art and craft thing going on down, interspersed with seafood stalls. Some have now been converted to short stay holiday accommodation as well. But its all very well done and retains that higgledy piggeldy look but blends in nicely and the place is quite lively.

It took us about an hour to get there; 65 miles from South London. And my favourite thing of the day was the town car parking.....yes really. You see, unlike many places where they rip you off and charge you big bucks for the privilege of visiting their town and giving them your money, Whitstable does it differently. The Junior School - right in the town centre - rents out its playground during weekends and school holidays. Its an old Victorian school with a substantial area around it. So the school and local charities group have teamed up, the voluntary group runs it, directs the parking and guards the vehicles, while you make them a donation - could be  10p, could be £10.00, whatever you like, for as long as you like. Half goes to whichever charity's turn it is, half to the school. Great idea, keeps traffic and jams out of the little town, yet encourages people to visit because they know they can park. And I'm not even a car fan!