Gent to Antoing a little south of Tournai.
I leave early. and go into Gent once again, to buy a gas cannister and take breakfast.
I meet Henk. At first I am startled. He rides right up to me, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake. In slurred speech he invites me for coffee. Henk is a very enthusiastic cyclist, despite an automobile accident, that twisted him, and slowed his speech. He tells me about his trips through France, Belgium and Germany. His site is www.henkdeconick.be. It was nice to meet him, and to share a coffee, however brief, before I pushed off on my own journey. I make sure I take a handful of sugar, as is my habit. I am a sugar thief.
Strong headwind. The going is tough. I draft behind lycra cyclists, up to 35kmph along the long Schelde river path to France. I hope they don’t mind me joining the tail of their group, dirty and weighed down, but holding my own for speed. Huddled against the wind I have my lunch as a huge fish is pulled from the river by excited fishermen. 19.5kg they exclaim in French not Flemish.
A wrong turn takes me to the edge of Belgium towards Lile. I brush past the boarder, going far enough to take a beer, and then turn south, and so back into Belgium, and facing into the wind, toward my original goal, the town of Valenciennes.
A camp site presents itself, down a disused road, overgrown with soft grass. Its a great spot, I feel safe here, and I don’t wait for night.
Luxury is setting up my tent in the glow of evening.
