Day 1 – From Breda to Namur

With a backpack that felt heavier than my future plans and a strong coffee in hand, I boarded the train in Breda. My mother waved me off as if I were leaving for a world expedition, when in reality I was just heading to Brussels-North. Quick transfer there, and off to Namur.

The train was packed. My seat? The floor. Right between bags and feet. But hey, after 2.5 hours I made it to Namur. Outside the station I pretended to know where I was going, but in truth I mostly walked in circles. Eventually I scored a poké bowl – delicious, expensive, but hey, it’s vacation.

After a quick stop at the Spar, I dragged myself to the hostel. Shower, bed, done. Had a quick chat with an American cycling across Europe (sounds cooler than it was: he was mainly tired). Then I knocked out, except for a few wake-ups in the night thanks to the heat. Conclusion: Day 1 survived.

Day 2 – Dinant and Getting Lost in Style

The bed was super comfy, but duty called. Breakfast, packed my bag, and hopped on the train to Dinant. First tested the station toilet – because, well, you gotta.

The route looked easy enough. Until my navigation app decided I should take a path that didn’t actually exist. Result: changing socks, sweating, puffing, climbing, and eventually bushwhacking my way through the forest. I popped out on a busy road, but luckily also near a bus stop. New plan: bus to Beauraing.

There I treated myself to a crêpe with banana, ice cream, and whipped cream. Because I deserved it. My “hotel” turned out to be someone’s house with rented rooms. At first a little creepy (keys in the mailbox, dark staircase), but in the end fantastic: a bath, a rooftop terrace, and a super friendly host. Dinner? Pasta carbonara – perfect. Day 2: success.

Day 3 – Hello France

My earphones broke. Great. Luckily breakfast came with coffee and bread rolls, so my mood survived. Onward to Givet!

The first kilometers were all uphill. It was hot, I was sweaty, and yes… another sock change. At the Belgian-French border I felt proud for a second… until my legs quit on me. So for the last 3 kilometers, I decided to get a taxi. Problem: my French is limited to “bonjour” and “baguette.” After much fumbling, a travel agency saved me and arranged a taxi. Hallelujah!

In Givet I discovered the hypermarché. Those stores are HUGE – way bigger than anything we have in the Netherlands. Bought new earphones, made myself a deluxe sandwich lunch, and finally checked into the hotel. Treated a blister like a proper field medic and had a weird Google Translate conversation with an even weirder guy. But hey, that’s part of the adventure. Day 3: made it to France!

Day 4 – Rest Day

After three days of trudging, my muscles deserved a holiday too. Rest day! Breakfast at 9, then mostly lying down, listening to music, and planning the next route. Which was necessary, because of course the campsite I had picked was closed. Typical.

So it turned into some plan-shuffling, but my legs were grateful for not being dragged through forests and hills for a day. Day 4: recharged and ready for what’s next.