I’ve finally had some decent time online to try & get up to date – hopefully I can process & summarise all that the last three days has held tonight, as after that I’ve no idea when I’ll have so much time to do so. Saturday: it was damp, but huzzah not raining when I decamped and back-tracked a little to some washrooms marked on my GPS – they seemed to be at the front of what I can only assume was one large Catholic Church camp. That must have been what I heard through the forest the night before; anyway, there were only a lot of rather old people around at eight in the morning.

Back on the GR5, the slipperiness continued as there were some sharp steep climbs that occasionally became too much to ride up – so it was on to pushing up hill and thoughts turned to what other weight I could shed. As I was not having much fun at only around 400 metres above sea level, I could see problems if I actually make it to any proper mountains. I remember one fantastic downhill run that went for an age – I try not to let my thoughts turn to how much more enjoyable it would be with a bikes I’ve ridden in the past and with good riding buddies.

Suddenly, I was on the outskirts of a town and the old houses were very grand indeed – there was some serious old money around. It was only when I got into the centre that it slowly dawned on me that I was in Spa – not sure how I didn’t see that coming, but that is the nature of my lack of planning! It was all a bit touristy, but there was a small classic car rally – the standard fare, but many more Triumphs than you would normally see – weird. On the subject of Belgian cars, they do seem to like a big American pick-up more than they should (I’ve seen so many more big Dodge Rams than in the UK) and Chevy seems to be doing OK over here recently; also, quite a few Dacias, which is amusing.

I had first-lunch and snapped a couple of pictures before rolling out of town without dipping in the famed springs.

The next section I completely fell out of love with the GR5 in its current state. For over an hour, I climbed three-hundred metres over only seven kilometres. The first part was through quite beautiful forest on single hiking trail, but the trail was just not very rideable as it was too narrow and rocky – which might have been OK in the dry. A lot of hike-a-bike was needed. I made a short detour on the road to a water source, but it was dry (?!), before rejoining the trail on the rest of the climb on forest double track. This was almost impassable in a different way – exceptional muddy or just small ponds really. Unfortunately, after all that the downhill was the same and not at all enjoyable when one is having to pedal through deep mud just go down. Perhaps understandably, this whole undertaking by myself started to seem ridiculous and thoughts turned to drier places (not that I knew where they were) and where I might actually be able to speak to people.

By the time I rolled into Stavelot for second-lunch, I was quite subdued as I’d decided that was enough of the GR5 and off-road riding for the time being. That was sobering as my whole set-up is geared to the off-road. I joined marked cycle-trails before Stavelot and after filling my water bottles at a small museum in a tiny village, Francorchamps, (which had an interesting, even if I couldn’t understand the text, display about the WWII occupation and then liberation of the village), I carried on. I was surprised to suddenly to be upon the Spa F1 track – the trail was above it, but I couldn’t see much detail through the trees. Stavelot also had some pretty big monuments to the liberation by the American 1st Army.

The cycle network was well developed here, it has been in most places in Belgium but less so in the hillier east, with big wide sealed paths. I diverted every so often to look at pretty towns. At Waimes, the route I was on joined the Vennbahn cycle route – there was a useful shelter to hide in from the torrential downpour. As I was to find out over the coming day, the Vennbahn is now the longest old rail-trail cycle route in Europe. The railway has only closed since the turn of the century – in its heyday it was used for hauling coal and iron ore. All along it there are many boards of historical photos, a lot about WWII – I couldn’t understand any of the three languages posted, but the pictures were interesting.

Into the lessening rain again, rather fed up with Belgium rain, wind and mud I started pondering going places where I could understand the language at least a little, have people to talk to and ride in mostly-dry. Italy and Canada appealed – Italy being the more practical option. However I was determined to get out of Belgium and not be completely beaten so early on.

Things changed, in some respects, quite quickly. Popping out at an old station there was a gathering of vintage tractors on a bi-annual outing. There were some beauties and then all smelled wonderfully of old machinery. The first that caught my eye was this gleaming MF 35 – as always. Then a gang of vintage motorcycles roared in – the stand-off and resulting brawl between vintage machinery that I was anticapting didn’t eventuate.

There were some more local examples as well.

While I was admiring the Massey Ferguson someone actually came up and spoke to me. Admittedly, he wasn’t Belgian. But it happened again, also not Belgian. Within ten minutes I’d had two offers of accommodation (I’m not sure I’ll make it to Munich). I kept bumping into and chatting to Jacqueline and Joseph (sp?) along the rail trail for a while. The pair of friends were out for the long weekend to introduce Joseph to cycle-touring before a planned September group tour in France. When they went looking for their hotel in St Vith, I tagged along – the draw of actual conversation over dinner too much. As it turned out, their hotel wasn’t where they thought – so we had a further ten kilometres off the trail to find it. But the hotel was happy for me to camp in their backyard and I got a shower (my bike even got a needed hose down – perhaps I should have had one too)!

After the lows earlier in the day, it was very well timed to have people to share a meal and wine with. I went to bed significantly happier – but still with no real idea how the next days and weeks will play out.