BBBB Tour

Boys, Belgium, Bikes and Beer - you can't ask for better ingredients for a short weekend away.

On Friday night, the boys boarded the Eurostar to Brussels, bikes in tow, for a last boys weekend away before Brad and I leave in August. Joining Brad and I were Rich, Jabs and Si - unfortunately Todd had to give a rain-check (literally, as he was off to play in the mud at Glastonbury). At Brussels it was just a matter of a quick change of trains and up we went to the gothic city of Ghent. Jumping on our bikes at the station (and remembering that we had to ride on the 'right' side of the road), we made the simple ride to our hotel for the night. That is 'simple', as in stop a few times to scratch our heads and wonder where we are and ask four different locals for directions (who surprisingly, didn't seem to know where they were either!). In fact, it was somewhat by chance, when trying to decipher some very confusing Flemish directions from a group of school girls, that we saw that our Eden ('Hotel Eden' that is) was just on the other side of the intersection.
It was getting late, so with no mucking around, we quickly locked up the bikes, drew cards to see who didn't have to listen to Rich's snoring all night and headed out to get a few beery delights. I should add here, that walking through the city, it was very picturesque, with lots of towering Gothic architecture, canals, large squares - and plenty of Belgian bars. First stop was the cool little bar Aba-Jour, which the 'bible' (Tim Webb's 'Belgium Good Beer Guide') recommended for food and, of course, beer. To set the taste buds tingling for the rest of the night I started with a Lambic, ordering the Cantillon Gueuze, Si joining me with the Cantillon Kriek. But the rest of the boys were scared off by warnings from our waiter (they are very sour) and opted for the still very good Chouffe. We ordered Belgian stews all round and had, of course, plenty of chips. With it being a nice night we decided to move on and try to find a bar where we could sit outside and enjoy the evening. (Little did I know how I would regret this. Aba-Jour had the one beer above all others I wanted to try - the Westvleteren 12 - considered the best beer in the world and the highest rated on ratebeer.com. It was on their menu, for the not so small sum of €11, but I thought I would probably see it somewhere again and preferably as an end of the nigh tipple. I never did see it again....)

After a bit of wandering around, we found ourselves at the Waterhuis bar, apparently "a Ghent institution", with a good little spot at a table canal-side. The service was a little slow, which isn't necessary a bad thing when the beers are 9%, and the waitress was a rare find - one that wasn't hard to look at (well, it was a boys trip after all). In fact, with a decent beer list, we ended up staying there until closing time, indulging in the perfect boy's trip treat - late night meaty snacks. Mindful of the fact that we were due to jump on our bikes in a few hours time, we sauntered back through the city to our hotel in the early hours of the morning.

Waking up the next morning there was a clamour to get our heads out the window, partly to get some fresh air, but also to make a nervous assessment of the weather - the forecast had predicted rain for the weekend. At this stage, both were pleasing to the senses. After stocking up on the usual European breakfast and waiting for Brad to do his hair, we slipped into the lycra and headed out on the bikes. Once again, having a whole map of Belgium printed onto an A3 bit of paper proved to be pretty useless when trying to navigate our way around the streets of Ghent, but when we eventually asked for directions, once again we happened to be right where we wanting to be.

Our route from Ghent to Brugge was along the Ghent-Brugge canal, a ride of about 50-odd kms. Those Europeans certainly know how to treat their cyclists, with the canal having 3-metre wide paved bike lanes on both sides pretty much the whole way, even cutting into the countryside from time to time - impressive stuff. Of course, it was only about 5 minutes along the canal when what we had all been dreading finally arrived - the rain. So on went the wet weather gear, but onwards we went. In fact the rain wasn't too bad - though there were a couple of instances when it was a fair deluge and it was a surprise not to see Noah himself cruising down the canal. But when you are soaked through, there is not much you can do - and it actually became enjoyable, man battling the elements.

And for much as there were periods of rain, there were dry periods, sometimes even sunny, and riding along you dry up pretty quickly. During one such dry spell, we happened past a small bar canal-side. Deciding to enjoy the moment, we took up the seats outside and ordered ourselves a round of Palm Specials at the crazy price of €1.20 each. Of course, this was one act of defiance too many for the weather gods, and we were promptly sent packing indoors to the bar - which was pretty much the front room of their house - and a second round of beers (there's a silver lining to every cloud, even one that is raining).

With some horrible attempts at Flemish goodbyes, to the humour of the locals (read "local"), we headed back out into the rain in pursuit of another bar further along that I had picked out for lunch. Once again we found ourselves a little locationally challenged, but sheltering in the bus stop from another Noah-inspiring deluge, we managed to prise out some directions from a fellow rain-avoider in exchange for a couple of Minstrels. With rumbling tummies and wet everything, we parked up outside the 'Seventh Heaven' bar in the small village of Beernem (with a name like that, it was obviously meant to be) and headed in. I'm not sure what the women running the bar thought of us bedraggled lot, especially as the only other people in the bar seemed be Octogenarians in their Sunday bests. Nevertheless, she was friendly enough and we quickly ordered some drinks and food (well, as quick as you can when we had to have her show us that "Brood" ont he menu was bread). This was a great little place, done up really nice with an impressive beer list, and even more impressively, one lady behind the bar who was barwoman, waitress, and chef. And she did a fine job of it all as well, with the grilled beef ribs being the perfect boys weekend lunch.

With 15-odd kms still to go to Brugge, we reluctantly left 'Seventh Heaven', though made all the more easy by the glorious sunshine that had now come out. With 3 more good beers and a great lunch in the belly, off we cycled along the canal again. Of course, as these things tend to go, we didn't get far. Just a couple of kms along we came across another bar, ominously called the 'Half Moon' (there is a pub by the same name on my road in Putney), and a democratic decision was quickly made to have just one more. For once, showing some constraint, we did just have that one, and enjoyed the last 10kms in the sun into Brugge, and not surprisingly after all the beers over the day, with much merriment.

After quickly finding our hotel for the night (true this time), we all spruced ourselves up with a shower and converted our rooms into a Chinese laundry. Having not had a beer for all of an hour, our target was what is quoted by some as the 'best bar in the world' - Brugs Beertje. With a huge beer list and good mix of tourists and locals inside, it lived up to its reputation (for more, see the Pub Watch post). In fact, it was so good we went twice! After our first spell at Brugs Beertje, we went off in search of the one thing that must be part of every boys weekend - steaks! After doing a circuit of Brugge, we ended up going to the restaurant across the street from Brugs Beertje, which served us up some big steaks with peppercorn sauce - perfect. As mentioned, once we finished up dinner, we decided that Brugs Beertje was so good that there was no need to check out any other bars, and back we went across the road. Plenty of brilliant beers later, we reluctantly took our leave of the lock-in, some of us in better shape than others.

Sunday started with a few sore heads and blurry eyes and it was a bit of a slow start by all. There was the odd spot of rain outside and plenty of fluffing about inside. Eventually we agreed to go out for a shortish ride for lunch and get back for our train to Brussels around 3pm. After a cruise around Brugge we headed out along a picturesque tree-lined canal, our minds and bodies better for the fresh air. Only about 10km outside of Brugge we came up to the attractive town of Damme, decided to stop for a drink....and didn't end up going any further. Though, this was entirely our fault as the pizza's we ordered took over an hour and half. They were good, but not that good - I think there must be an inverse relationship between the service you get and the amount of sweaty lycra you are wearing.

With time up, we had to cycle back to the Brugge train station and took the trip back to Brussels to drop our bikes off in time to get on our Eurostar back to London. This gave us just enough time to fit in - you guessed it - one more beer. It was with much regret that we had to leave, as soon as the Eurostar left the platform I wanted to turn around and go back. It may be a while until I get back to Belgium again, but I definitely will be returning.

Epilogue: Arriving back into London, there was just one final leg of the boys weekend left. This was a quick cycle around to Si's where Kellie had recorded the All Black-South Africa game for us from the day before, accompanied by the last thing that would make a boys weekend complete - curry!

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