Since Monday of last week I have been getting constant reminders that the upcoming weekend was to be the start of the Belgian racing season. The most noticeable example of this is a scene that I’ve dubbed midnight beans... After a hard day on the bike I felt hungry after tea (or dinner as my southern housemate would call it, but we won’t get into that debate) and reached for a can of beans at around 10:30pm, the look on my team managers face was that of sheer surprise with a hint of disgust thrown in. ‘This is no good for you at this time of night, you will pay for that this weekend’. And with that the hints kept on coming that the weekend was the start of the Belgian season.
Belgium has also started to have a distinctively Anglo tinge to it, on Wednesday I was emptying my washing basket in the evening when a man and woman knocked on my window and told me to open it…in English. In an attempt to open my window I pulled my blind off its hinges and was left with the thing in my hand. The pair turned out to be Jocelyn Ryan and a New Zealander who never managed to introduce himself. My efforts with a tub of tubular tyre glue seems to have had limited effect, our blind stays up but it’s definitely a D.I.Y disaster waiting to happen! We also have several notable riders in our local area, Dan Mclay lives a few doors down, Matt Bramier lives 10 minutes ride away, Adam Blythe is in the next village and we recently came across a couple of under 23 riders in Mark McNally and Andrew Fenn, quite a group when we finally get a ride going.
I’ve also decided that a Belgian café can be judged by the freebies that accompany a coffee…a free biscuit on the side is average, a second chocolate is a good sign, but so far the winner is a little café in heist op de berg which gave us all a free ham sandwich!
Sunday came around soon enough, I awoke to light rain, a stiff breeze and hopefully just a chance of victory in the afternoon…if you’ll pardon the pun. I signed on for what I’d hoped to be a small kermisse race, unfortunately 186 other riders had the same idea. The race was run off under heavy skies but the course was rolling at best and the wide, tree lined roads prevented the havoc that I was expecting from my previous Belgian experiences. A small group slipped away late on in a soft move, our team was represented with two riders so I was no longer on for the win, I salvaged some pride with a bit of elbows out sprinting to take 23rd, but more importantly 10 euros prize money! At just 109km it wasn’t the longest race but it has boosted my confidence without being the baptism of fire I feared. Afterwards we were taken to a fundraiser for a local cycling team, a novel idea that is common in Belgium whereby a club hosts an evening in their clubhouse, invites all the local town to come and eat some home cooked food. We paid 10 euros each (so my prize money lasted about an hour) and had a cracking chicken casserole with the obligatory frites. The food is expensive for what it is but apparently every club has them and they are all well supported by fans and riders alike which help cycling keep going in this part of the world.
A couple of Flemish phrases I’ve picked up this week…
Totziennes- goodbye
Lekker- tasty!
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