Mini-vacation in the Walloon Riviera

Just like the roller-coaster that inches up the incline before the dizzying drop, I enjoyed about 30 hours off the electronic leash to go cycling with my brother, a couple of hours' drive south of Brussels in the Ardennes, where a lot of Belgians used to vacation before it became possible to shoot down to the south of France or more exotic locales.

Apologies for the weird formatting with the photos. What you see with Preview sure isn't what appears on my screen once I post. I may or may not try to learn how to do this better, or I may simply get less cute with the photos


We piled two road bikes (the one I would be riding came from a baritone in the Bach group that Julius directs) and a minimal amount of gear into the trusty Toyota minivan, not before a last delay (just as we were leaving, a 'cello student showed up for his lesson, the kind of brain-fart I know well from my own teaching).

Julius was determined to complete a little loop centered around a rails-to-trails segment, though he warned me that the descriptions in the guidebook were truly idiosyncratic and hard to follow. This was definitely accurate, although we had a great time for ourselves, only having to double back a couple of times, and enjoying a long and surreal gentle downhill through dense forest where I popped a tire (luckily we had a spare) and fast finishing cruise back to the car in the midsummer dusk after 50 miles or so. We were both pretty tired, salty and smiling at the end.

Julius then called a B & B he'd read about, there was a room, we drove another 45 minutes, and there we were. Quick shower, late dinner in a nearby town (plenty of water and a couple of excellent wheat beers), and it was bedtime amidst some hilariously kitschy decor. You can't see it, but the wallpaper border is cherub-themed, as is this little holder for the ghastly candy,

But hey: check out the array of house-made jams that awaited us in the morning:

This next day's ride was a simple out-and-back along the Semois river, from the river-side town of Bohan (where the picture of the van was taken) to Bouillon, a historic seat of a medieval king (hence the citadel) and a tourist destination for centuries. Maybe 45 miles total, lots of changes in scenery, and straightforward navigation.

The riding was excellent: mostly good roads, no super-tough climbs, but enough to get you thinking you were rounding into form.

Booming and zooming on these rollers worked up a serious thirst, and we found a nice little cafe on a side street and had a scrambed egg and salad combination that was quite satisfying. Not sure what to make of the label of the local brew, but the result was quite enjoyable.

All in all, a wonderful mini-vacation, setting the stage for a post-Tour bit of cycling in southern France, and clarifying what sorts of tweaks have to be made to the bike (super hard and snicked-up saddle gave me an abrasion, gotta replace old rubber (tires and brake pads), and maybe adjust the derailleur. The guys at the bike store may call it an antique (it's even older than my road bike) but it's got a 531 frame and I installed cushy bar tape so I feel pretty darned good on it.

Our family dinner last night--at a hip new restaurant on the Avenue Louise--will await another post.