The trip, principally to attend an ANZAC ceremony at the Australian Somme Memorial, had been tossed around amongst some of the Arup Australian contingent for a while, however it was looking to be all to difficult until an eager car and driver were found on Thursday afternoon... so at the proverbial one minute to midnight it was on, four boys, one car and few plans (considering the Munich Debacle, it was little wonder that Aimes was concerned...)
Graves in the Australian War Memorial at Villers Bretonneux
Lost somewhere in BoulogneHowever, we eventually made it to France, after a couple of duty free beers on the boat, and were expecting a short drive down to Boulogne where we had booked a hotel. Unfortunately attempting to find the hotel without a map wasn't as easy as you might expect, and it took much driving around, calls to Australia for directions and scaring of the only person we managed to find (a cyclist who obviously didn't want to give us directions) before we managed to find the hotel - right next to the highway exit we had initially taken.... Time check - 4am!!
Breakfast somewhere on the northern French coast...
As a result of our shenanigans the previous night, we didn't rise early enough to make it to the ceremony at the Franco-Australian Memorial at Villers Bretonneux, however we checked out with a few other late arrivals. Even having missed the ceremony it was a pretty moving experience, especially seeing the number of unnamed graves and number of names, even though they represented only those Australians killed in the Somme campaign... From here we visited another Australian memorial at the nearby village of Le Hamel (of General Monash fame), which being located a top a hill gave a good overview of the futility of the western front campaign and the little progress made over years of wasted effort and loss of lives.
Le HamelAfter this we headed for the Albert where we sampled the produce from the local patisserie while enjoying the sounds of the local Chavs on their scooters (sports exhausts and all). After lunch we continued our drive around the Somme, taking in the British and Northern Irish Memorials. The British Memorial at Theipval, was a little uninspiring at first, that was until you get close enough to realise that the 16 massive columns are covered on each side with thousands and thousands of names – again, very sobering…
Anyways, after spending the best part of the day driving around the narrow lanes and villages of northern France, and having had a taste of Belgian beer (out of the boot of the car on the side of the road), we decided we needed a change and headed straight for Brussels. A pretty swift run down the motorway, partaking in the European love of ignoring speed limits (or are they suggestions?) and we were in a hotel and ready to quench that hard earned thirst!
Arcade in Brussels
Out for beers in BrussellsDinner was unsurprisingly mussels and frits followed by many beers of different colour, taste and quality… It definitely made for a nice change to be drinking good quality beer in quantities and surrounds that allowed you to enjoy it rather than attempting to down yet another pint (or mass). Sure I will be back there in the not too distant future!
View of Brugge from the Bell TowerAfter breakfasting on croissants (not quite the greasy fry up that was called for), it was on to Brugge (after we managed to find our way out of Brussels, yet again sans map that is). Brugge is supposedly a bit over-touristed, however it is like that for a reason as it is also very beautiful, and an enjoyable afternoon was had there. Yet again we had fantastic weather, in fact it was reportedly better than the UK which apparently is somewhat rare for Belgium, so most of the afternoon was spent sitting enjoying this rare phenomenon. We decided against the canal boat trip, as the canals were a little congested with boatloads of geriatrics, though will have to do one some day (having also dodged it in Amsterdam). Though we did earn our lunch burgers with a climb to the top of the 350m tall bell tower where access considerations were obviously not high on the design agenda and most of the climb was spent waiting for people to pass….
Chris, Phil and Mark in Brugge
Mussels and beersFrom Brugge we took the coast road back to Calais via Oostende, which we were later to find out is Belgium’s premier beach resort. Near the top of the list of things I didn’t expect to be doing in Belgium was swimming at the beach, however after having driven past several glimpses of white sand between the obligatory beachside high rise, we soon found ourselves stripping off for a dip in the English Channel. That the brown algae filled water and freezing temperatures didn’t deter us says something of the ocean swimming depravation we have endured, and perhaps it was just the presence of too much testosterone, either way we were in… and then very quickly back out – tick swimming at a Belgian beach off the to do list!
Downtown BrusselsAfter our unscheduled stop it was back on the motorway for the final leg to Calais, where we had time to grab some traditional French cuisine (a kebab) before boarding the ferry (on time for a change). On the trip back we part-took in the British past-time of loading up on booze and tobacco on trips to the continent, loading up the car with a good few cases of wine
Oostende
At about this point swimming should have seemed a bad idea...An hour or so later and we caught a glimpse of the White Cliffs of Dover in the fading light of the early evening and from there it wasn’t much of a drive back London. The usual train chaos at this point assured us that we weren’t far from home and despite an unscheduled lay-over in Epsom, managed to be back in Fulham before midnight – good times…
