Day 81: Ieper to Deurle (near Ghent)

June 15, 2018

We often put food on the window ledge at night to keep it cool, but at the Old Tom the ledge was sloped. So around 9:30 p.m. I went downstairs to put the food bag out front with the bikes. The way out leads through the kitchen and dining room (super narrow building!) and I found all in darkness. Also, the front door was locked. I came to realize that we were the only ones in the building, and locked in. Shades of Mexico, when at least once we found ourselves chained and padlocked in.

One advantage, I guess I could have fired up the stove and made some fried eggs. But in fact I went back to the room and phoned the number we had for the hotel. I suppose it was the same man that checked us in who answered. He was clearly at home somewhere, as kids were shouting in the background. Something I haven't mentioned yet - the language here is Flemish, which is similar to Dutch. French is simply not on. But most people speak some English. In English, then, the man could not understand what my problem was. "What happens if there is a fire?", I asked. But that did not seems to be a topic that triggered any meaningful response. Finally, the man came to understand that I wanted to go out, and that's when I learned about the "secret" white button. Press that, and you are out! Now he tells me.

I think what this is about is more a cultural difference than anything. At home, a hotel normally has 24 hour reception, while with a motel, of course, you have your own door and key. In a hotel without an open front door, there will be a push bar type exit. That is probably the law. But here - maybe everybody knows about the white button?

In the morning, and given that there was no fire, we set off first to look at the cathedral, which kind of hides coyly behind the Cloth Hall and its clock tower. We circled around and did have a look, but the place was closed. In the yard behind, our circle revealed bits and pieces of the destroyed previous version. It remains amazing that the thing was able to be rebuilt so well.

Nice architecture near the Cloth Hall and cathedral

We spared one more twiddle to try to see something of the rest of the town, or at least the part shaded yellow on the tourist map. Then we headed east through the Grote Markt to the Menin gate. Looking again at the names of the missing inscribed on the walls of the gate, I noticed the ones from India, with many as expected named Singh. But there were Khans as well. At first this puzzled me, for Khans are muslims from Pakistan. But of course, in 1917 India was a single British colony.

We proceeded east through the Menin gate, which is exactly the action the many troups took on their way to the Ypres Salient. A salient in military terms is a bulge in the lines, from which the enemy has been pushed back. A salient is difficult to manage, because within it you are vulnerable to attack from three sides. The Ypres salient was such a bulge, mostly corresponding to a semi circular ridge, about 10 to 13 kms northeast of the city. The town of Passendale (Passchendaele) sits about 2 kms behind this.

Between 1914 and 1917 there were five battles of Ypres and the Salient, with the actual line at first being west of Ypres (i.e. Germans held Ypres) and then with movement in that 13 km band. The term Battle of Passendale refers mostly to the battles in July to November 1917. In the end the Canadian corps captured Passendale. The whole history of the battles is immensely complicated, and I am sure anyone who really knows will find even my few sentences here totally inaccurate.

As we cycled east from the Gate, our intention was to visit the major Tyne Cot cemetery, which is 12 km east of Ypres and 2 km south of Passendale, and then to go to the town of Passendale itself. With just that objective in mind, and as often happens in this area, we were shocked to come over a rise, not 4 kms from Ypres, and to run into the classical row on row of crosses. This was the St Charles de Potyze site - the largest French cemetery in Belgium. The French use crosses, while the Commonwealth uses headstones. There were more than 4,200 crosses here, and also 69 Muslim graves, with a minaret shaped headstone.

Someone had wool bombed the site (and others, we found)

Starting from here and increasingly as we moved deeper into the salient, Dodie spoke about her distress at being in this place. The fact that so many of the dead were so young weighed on her Grampie mind, and she felt that she could feel them all around. It was a strange relief when we finally got behind the German lines and left the Western Front behind.

The town of Zonnebeke lay on our route, and we took a few minutes just to look at the outside of the Passendale Musuem there. We knew it would be extensive, with dioramas, display cases, info panels, etc., and we also knew we just did not have time for it.

Part of a roadside memorial near Zonnebeke

We did make time for a bike shop that we discovered in town. No choice there, because we knew my chain to be worn, after 5000 kms, and Dodie's new chain to also be worn, since she seems able to chew one up in a mere 2,500 km. The mechanic in the bike shop was extremely knowledgeable, and very importantly, willing to put aside what he was working on and put in the chains for us right away. Not letting the chains wear out is important to not having the front and rear sprockets worn out. Replacing those is possible, but much more of a bug. Fortunately my front sprocket, while dirty under the chain guard, was not badly worn.

I also took (the mechanic's) time to discuss brake squeaking, brake pads not retracting at times, and why my stand had fallen off - gaining valuable knowledge on all fronts. We will put that to use to maintain the bikes, which we want to be in good condition not just for this year but for many trips in Europe to come.

This German "meldeganger", which I take to mean courrier, is having no luck with cycle paths at Passendale.

Before we could leave the front, we had a lot of circling in the Salient to do. We arrived at Tyne Cot, which is the largest Commonwealth cemetery in the world, with 12,000 graves. Of these, 8,300 are unidentified, which means they had some remains but did not know who it was. Then on the walls of the memorial are a further 35,000 names of those who died in 1917 and 1918, and for whom they have no remains. The huge number of unidentified and missing is testimony to how dire the circumstances were at the time.

Outside Tyne Cot we observe one of many crater traces in the corn fields. We learned to recognize craters and trenches within the crops from the archaeology display at the Ypres museum.

At Tyne Cot, blood red roses. The graves contrast with the now peaceful farms in the background.

At Tyne Cot, the walls are inscribed with the names of those whose remains were never identified.

At Tyne Cot we were standing and looking at the New Zealand names on the wall, and happened to speak to four people also there. One of them, on learning that we were Canadians, directed us to "Vancouver Corner" where is to be found the statue of the Brooding Canadian, a memorial to Canadians killed here in the first ever gas attack, in 1915. He seemed to know a lot about the locations and exact dates of things, and we found that he was a guide, and that the other three - New Zealanders - had contacted him and arranged this day six months ago. We thanked him for his information, but he thanked us just for coming.

The tip from the guide sent us spinning off into the salient, passing the New Zealand memorial, a site where a farmer had discovered a large underground dugout on her land, just in 1999, markers and information panels marking assaults and losses, and arriving at Vancouver Corner. The single Canadian soldier depicted on the tall column is in a posture of mourning, since the Canadians were heavily affected by the use of chlorine gas, in 1915.

At Vancouver Corner. The monument simple says "Canada" at the bottom.

The soldier is mourning the use of chlorine gas

We went to the actual town of Passendale, which appears today as just a plain country town.

After spending half a day in the Salient it was time to beetle off toward Ghent. We used mainly the knoopunts, which are a unique Belgian/Dutch system for guiding you from numbered point to numbered point. You need a map of where the points are, and we had bought this the previous day. Also useful were the bicycle signs pointing to farther off destinations. Mainly, we felt free to navigate almost anywhere, because like in Netherlands, there is a bike path beside literally every road that is not an expressway. At some points we found ourselves on a "national" type road, but that was not the problem that it would have been in France. We were not forced to mix it up with cars at any point during the day (except at intersections or roundabouts - though roundabouts all had bike lanes that were a big help).

We ate our lunch in Roeselare, which is a fairly large town. But again, we were ushered into the centre by a flower lined bike lane. In the downtown, we chose the wide ledge of a row of store windows to sit at, since there was shade there. I wondered whether we would be kicked off, since a display window is not a picnic site, after all. We do not sense any of the "laissez-faire" attitude common in France, here. But only one old lady seemed to notice us at all. She stopped to tell us that she had family in Canada. She spoke only Flemmish, but the alert Dodie was able to understand.

We had now left the paradoxically beautiful Salient area and followed an industrial canal and/or canalized river Leie. It was interesting, and the canalside path was good. That is, until it wasn't. We encountered construction along significant sections, and were unwilling to deviate, since for sure that would mean being lost. So we used that attribute of Canadian beavers - able to chew through barriers - to keep pushing along the canal.

Ushered into Roeselaire - this sure isn't northern France anymore

Even on the big road, there is a place for bikes

Can't stop Grampies with simple barriers

We knew that today would be a bit of a stretch, so we booked a little short of Ghent, in the hamlet of Deule. We got a warm welcome at the Boldershof, a small restaurant/hotel. We decided to eat at the restaurant, and both appreciated and needed the help given in interpreting the Flemmish menu. We certainly had no trouble understanding prices like 35 euros for fillet of sole, but hung in there and paid 26 euros per plate. Dodie went with the much recommended Flemmish stew - which is like boeuf bourginon, except made with beer and pork. When it arrived, our Canadian reserve was tried, as the plate contained only three lumps of stew. We were still processing this strange fact when the waitress arrived with the rest of the stew - a generous amount in a hot pot. Apparently they consider this preliminary serving method as an elegant touch. We say, just pour the slop in the trough - we are hungry cyclists!

What would you say of 26 euros brought you this?

We feel very happy in the hotel, mainly because of the warm welcome we received. It's a bit of a switch, because we have felt the Belgians to be rather reserved. For example, out on the trail, few will say hello. By contrast in France most everyone, even little kids and teenagers, will say bonjour.

Flashing back to today's trail for a moment, we are reminded of the situation where we were climbing the narrow path of a long overpass. A cyclist came along, passed me, and began to pressure Dodie. He tried to squeeze past left, then right, then left. But Dodie, a good cyclist but unsure of her balance if jostled, just stuck to the middle. I cycled up beside the man and asked him to take it easy. He responded with another sortie to the right. I shouted at him to back off, and he said, aggrieved, "I do nothing!". Maybe dangerous drivers and cyclists really are not aware of the risks they create.

Tomorrow we will shoot for Antwerp. It's a big city, but we feel confident there will be a way in for us on the bikes. Meanwhile, this hotel with the expensive restaurant has breakfast included. We are interested to see what they come up with.

Today's ride: 86 km (53 miles)
Total: 5,394 km (3,350 miles)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	7
Comment on this entry	Comment	0