Back to Luxemburg

July 27, 2018

Day 13: Trier (DE) - Ettelbruck (LU). Rivers followed: Mosel & Sûre

Heart

Comment

I awoke late, feeling refreshed and serene: this was going to be the last day of the tour. I had covered more ground than I'd thought, seen more of Germany than I'd planned, and not had to cut anything out by taking the train.

My bike touring career really started with a trip to Luxembourg. I had a really heavy and failure-prone bargain bike from a notorious university bike purveyor; I was pretty sketchy on even how to fix a puncture; and I navigated by printing out whole sections of google maps. I had the time of my life, though my bike wheels almost fell apart by the time I was done. You can read about the journey on Cycleblaze here.

So it was resonant to be finishing this much longer tour here. I had already pedalled from the sea down to the Ardennes: by reaching those hills again, I felt I had completed a circuit. I had no need to get to Belgium or beyond: I would learn my lesson from the last two weeks of topography, and follow the river into Luxembourg.

The rail line North from Luxembourg city into Belgium runs through the only other sizeable towns in the Northern majority of the country: Ettelbrück and Diekirch. These also lie on the major river, the Sûre, which flows through the hills. All I needed to do to reach the railhead - which would bring me into Belgium, if not further to the capital or even the coast - was to follow these.

My morning cycle into Luxembourg was one of the most serene and satisfying I have ever had. The weather was warm but not hot; the routes were easy to follow but picturesque; and I seemed to be the only one around on this Friday morning. I sang as I rode.

Murals on a highway bridge near Trier. The family you can just see were going for a (somewhat furtive) swim.

Just 10km to Luxembourg. They slipped by with ease.

It wasn't long before I was in Wasserbillig. Here the Sûre flows into the Mosel: the Mosel and the Sûre constitute the border of Germany and Luxembourg, with the Mosel bending to the South and the Sûre to the North and then into the interior of Luxembourg. I would be following the Sûre.

Entering Luxembourg at Wasserbillig. You can just about see the speed sign at the end of the bridge, and the very flaccid flags. Goodbye Germany!

The Luxembourg landscape is after my own heart. After the business of the Mosel cycleway, this was a delight.

I was amazed at the speed I covered ground compared to yesterday. As I passed a campsite near Born, I noticed it had a cafe, so thought I'd stop for a coffee - it was still before 11am, and I'd set off at 9am.

The cafe was really quite fancy: like most things in Luxembourg, the sense of rather wholesome prosperity was very strong. As I sat and sipped my coffee and felt pleased in using my single word of Luxemburgish (Moien!), I noticed a bin lorry pulling up. Ah, time to empty the campsite bins - but no, the workers were just taking a well-earned break.

The cafe near Born. You can see the bin-men enjoying a very civilized break. I was somewhat conflicted about which bike to take when I left.

Another one of these ... things. They seem to be following me around.

War memorial to some of the intense fighting by American troops in the Ardennes at the end of WWII.

I knew it was going to be a short day: but still a good 60km. I was amazed when I rounded the corner of the Sûre, and the confluence with the Nims which continues North toward Bitburg before midday. At this rate I was going to finish in the early afternoon. I couldn't quite understand how I was covering ground so effortlessly.

Around Ettelbrück there were many campsites, and lots of people larking about in the river on canoes and inflatables. I passed quickly through the tiny town, and before I knew it was at the confluence of the Our, which forms the Eastern border of Luxembourg as it tapers up to a point. This was significant, as the further East I had got on my inaugral tour 7 years ago was Vianden, on the banks of the Our - I had briefly cycled across the bridge just to say I was in Germany. I must have crossed the river and paths with myself somewhere near here on my way to Beaufort castle - but didn't recognise the spot.

The junction at the Our. I stayed in Vianden all those years ago - it seemed like a longer distance then. It's likely that I crossed over this "junction" back in 2011, but I can't say I remember much about it.

The last stretch towards Diekirch was hillier and more wooded. I pulled enjoyably through the last stretch.

Lovely Luxembourgeois landscape near Diekirch

I passed Diekirch in what seemed like a moment. There is a tiny rail branch line that serves Diekirch, but I wanted to continue on: and before I knew what was upon me I was by the bridge leading into Ettelbrück.

It was only 2pm - and I had covered 69km in 4 hours and 3 minutes at what seemed like pure leisure. If only every day could have been like this!

I had a slightly awkward time getting across, and then knowing if I could cycle into the station. I decided against it, and went in an enquired about the possibility of getting to Belgium with a bike. Yes, it was possible today. How about getting to Brussels, or even De Panne on the coast. Of course! The extremely helpful and efficient clerk sold me a ticket to De Panne, with changes in Liege and Gent.

I had a couple of hours to kill, so I wheeled my bike through the streets and found a cafe. It was actually a little bit seedy, but I could sit outside so didn't care too much.

Sitting in the cafe waiting for my train to the North sea and wondering what on earth this bit of street furniture was (it would freely rotate) - I still have no idea...

The dusty and travel-worn - but intact - Shift

The train journey back was a little more adventurous than I'd hoped. Back at the station, I bought a load of sandwiches and cakes to keep me going, knowing I wouldn't have time for lunch, and while carefully watching my bike around a very shouty drunk. When the train arrived, there was a good half meter step up to the door from the platform: it took all my meagre strength to lift the shift into the carriage, and it wasn't helped by the usual lollygaggers hanging around the vestibule for no reason at all.

I was a bit concerned as I had only few minutes to change in Liege. It was indeed a bit of a scramble, but I got across the platform and into the intercity to Gent via Brussels without too much trouble. I then put my bike in the wrong place, and it was soon buried under the bikes of the many other travellers transporting them for the weekend. I also had a tight change - just six minutes this time and the train was late - in Gent, and I was worried about getting it out. Some other fellows also looked a bit agitated, and explained they were changing as well. I took their lead, and flew after them as the doors opened. The wheeled their (fully loaded) bikes onto the escalators, so I followed suit - I'm fairly sure it's not allowed, but nobody stopped us. We made the coast train with about 90 seconds to spare.

Passing Brussels on the train - you can see the atomium in the distance

It was 8pm and dusky as the train made its way across the flat expanse of Flanders towards the coast. My new friend stared pensively out the window, and simply uttered the word "Belgium" - which seemed to sum it up. The train had emptied out and it had a real end-of-the-world feel as I emerged at De Panne.

All through the train journey - and presumably as a result of my amazingly quick day - I toyed with the idea of heading straight to the port once I got to the coast, and taking the midnight ferry so I'd get home with two days to spare. I had coordinated with Caroline at home, and she'd verified that the ferries did indeed run - and my flexible ticket would be valid. I was still considering this rather mad idea - the port was at least 30k away in a different country and it was getting dark - so I thought I'd have a drink in a cafe and think it over.

There was a Hopper-esque looking place outside the station. I sat down and was about to order - but they were about to close, at 9pm on a Friday night!

I got on my bike, turned on my lights, and tooled rather idly around the rather weird environs of De Panne, home to the enormous and very Belgian theme park of Plopsaland. Seeing a sign for a campsite made it clear to myself that I really didn't want any more adventure today. I cycled along unfamiliarly busy roads, and looked in at the place. The reception was very shut and dark. I wondered insouciantly in, and noticed that the tent field was huge and maybe a quarter full. Well, that was enough for me - I wheeled my way in, picked a spot next to some motor bikers, and set up the tent.

My camping spot after packing up the next day

I was still keen on getting a drink of Belgian beer, considering my long day. I mounted my lights and rode the unladed Shift around the eerie, flat and now empty roads surrounding the campsite. I got the impression the coast was nearby, and had idea of some sort of beach bar. In the event, I found an alley of shops universally dedicated to selling cigarettes to truckers. In one of these bizarre places, I found one that could sell me two very good bottles of Kasteel, manned by the jolliest fellow ever to work in a shop devoted to cigarettes: "ah, you need to use chip and pin" he told me: "in England you have fish and chips, here we have chip and pin".

I took my spoils back to the site, and cooked up a final meal of pasta. It was about 1opm, but I was determined to finish all my provisions.

Today's ride: 69 km (43 miles)
Total: 1,231 km (764 miles)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	1
Comment on this entry	Comment	0