En ce qui concerne voyage seule

Some, particularly women, remark about my travelling alone. I must say that my preference would be to have a companion. However, if I had waited until someone became available it might not ever happen. Equally, I am not a big fan of group bike trips of which there are numerous particular around this time with the onset of the Tour de France. So, the issue is how to make the best of this deficiency.

One solution is to talk to yourself! I do do this from time to time particularly when a crossroads is reached and there is need of a decision of which way to go. However, I hope I can keep this under control. I am reminded of a great Jack Nicholson movie where he plays a cop who becomes obsessed about catching a child molester/murderer. Something goes wrong and there is a great last scene where Jack is sitting on a sand blown abandoned gas station step muttering intensely to himself.

Another way is to meet people. This can't be arranged but you can make the best of the opportunities that come quite unexpectedly. One example is my encounter with Michel and Suzanne.

It was late in the day and I had just come out of the tourist information centre and the afternoon sun was streaming into the beautiful tree lined square of Maaseik, a medieval town in Belgium on the border with Holland. My mind was on accomodation to the north in Holland, when Michel made a joke in Flemish about my bike looking like a Belgium postal bike. Realising I was a foreigner, he called me over and insisted on shouting me a beer and of course a chat about pretty well everything. On a personal note, it turned out that Suzanne's son of 37 years old objected to their relationship so, while he was on holiday in the Caribbean, they were stealing a few moments together. The story gets even more tragic but nevermind, we had a good laugh and we all enjoyed the few hours we chatted and drank before I finally got moving again. If I had left it to Michel, I might still be there but not in any condition to tell the tale.

Earlier that day, as I sauntered along a levee bank cycle path (yes, there are lots), an 80 year old (I think thats what he said but surely he was riding too fast for that!) came up beside me and started to chat. We discovered our "common" language was French so you can imagine how basic the conversation was. Nevertheless, as we parted ways, we thanked each other and meant it.

I have just had a horrible thought that perhaps Suzanne's son is a blogger. No, surely there are better things to do in the Carribean!

It is time to collect the bike from the local shop where I am sure the servicing will be excellent.