I’m now two months into a journey that has no set end date. You have no idea how much that nags at me – not the fact that there IS no end date, just my inability to attach a % completion to where I am so far. Some habits are hard to break.

A lot has happened over the past couple of months, so I’m splitting this up into 3 parts, to give each aspect its due. And milk this for a few more posts.

1) The destination highlights

2) Logistics & financials

3) The goals and what’s next

I’ve been to 5 countries in the past two months – England, France, Belgium, The Netherlands and Spain. Exploring each of them has been wonderful, but here are the parts that stand above the rest.

My favorite destinations

Seriously, if you're going to spend an afternoon reading in the park, isn't this a good one?

Paris. It’s still the peak of my travel love. This time I was able to spend time enjoying the culture and environment like a local, albeit for a couple of weeks. In addition to leisurely visiting parks and relaxing in many of the beautiful plazas of the city, I indulged in summer activities like watching films under the stars at the Parc du Villettes. Staying in a lovely flat away from the city center enriched the experience tremendously, and is something I hope to repeat at other destinations.

Belgium. I didn’t spend nearly enough time in Bruges and Antwerp – both of them were beautiful cities I knew little about before I rode in. Missing out on Brussels along the way gives me ample reason to return to the land of Tin Tin.

Bretagne and the Celtic Festival. There are a lot of established cycling routes in France, but a solo ride down the coast of Bretagne introduced me to an entirely new region of the country – coastal towns, ancient family farms and a huge Celtic festival in Lorient were the pinnacle of my attempt to see parts of the nation that were off the beaten path for most (foreign) travelers. I loved every minute of it.

Valencia, Spain. Aside from Paris, this was my favorite city along the way. A fascinating history, outstanding architecture (old and new) and a surprisingly strong flow of other travelers, even before La Tomatina kicked off.

The Parts I Haven’t Been Quite As Enamored With

Madrid, Spain. As cities go, it just wasn’t my cup of tea. It had kind of a harsh, gloomy quality to it. There were certainly aspects I enjoyed, but the city center was filled with Cash for Gold hawkers (dozens of them), grabby hookers (I’m not kidding, several of them tried to grab my arm and pull me along with them – god knows where) and gambling halls. Madrid’s Museo del Prado boasts one of the largest collections of artwork in the world, but much of it was room after room of portraits that meant little to me. Seeing Hieronymous Bosch’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” was the only real highlight. That guy did some seriously messed up work, hundreds of years before Salvador Dali.

Amsterdam. I found the city and the people lovely throughout the Netherlands, but the tone of the place at night was just a bit much for me. I honestly love the openness about sex and weed, and it’s wonderful that there’s an understanding that people can responsibly partake in whatever activities they’d like. Those particular pursuits just weren’t my cup of tea, though, so after the first couple of nights of exploring and people watching, I generally ended up calling it a night early.

What I’m enjoying

Staying put for a while. That’s a bit of a travel oxymoron, but I’m really enjoying getting to know a town by spending a minimum of a week in the same place. The first couple of days are spent walking around, visiting the “required” sites and getting a feel for the place. Then I settle in, head to local cafes, sit in parks, read, write and just relax.

It’s a delicate balance because I also want to see a lot of towns and destinations that are off the beaten path. For example, I could have spent two weeks in Paris, followed by a train to Bordeaux and spent two weeks there, but I would have missed out on visits to Brest, Lorient, Quimper, Vannes and Nantes. The trip wouldn’t have been the same without them.

Not a view you get on a train.

Cycling through small towns. It gets my adrenaline going as well as sparking up the exploration nodes of my brain. Even on rainy mornings, the quiet pedaling through the empty hills and valleys of France, Belgium and the Netherlands have been an irreplaceable facet of the journey.

A wealth of cultural events I didn’t even know about. I certainly knew about the Tour de France and planned some of my trip around it, but watching the World Cup Finals with thousands of people in the town plaza of Lille, France had an indescribable energy to it (especially since Lille is pretty much equidistant between The Netherlands and Spain, the two competitors). Seeing the finale of the Tall Boat Races in Antwerp was an unexpected pleasure but little flea markets, regional celebrations and sporting events pop up everywhere if you look around a bit.

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Next up: How are the logistics and finances shaping up?

Riding a bicycle through Europe allows you to check out a lot of small towns that you can’t easily see any other way. And along the way, you find some pretty unique road signs.Here are my interpretations of some odd graphics.

Caution: Marge Simpson Riding Train

1920s Railway Laborer Ahead

The street may be called Pispot, but I hear it’s actually a shithole.

Is this called Rue de la Vignette because the buildings are made up of short stories?

Donk: Please watch your head.

And the award for Random Attraction of the Year goes to: The Canada Museum in the middle of a small town in Belgium

Isn’t a double negative grammatically incorrect? I can only interpret this as “End of the Zone you can do nothing in.”

Apparently parking meters accept poker chips in this area.

Watch for Spontaneous Xanadu Re-enactments

Antwerp was a beautiful city and full of surprises (read more here). One additional surprise I got was stumbling into the red light district after boat watching.

Here’s a peek behind the curtain inside my head:

Huh, this street looks interesting. Wonder what’s down here? Lots of store fronts and guys walking ar– whoah! That’s no mannequin in that bikini!

Jeezus, there are hundreds of girls behind glass doors posing and pressing up against the glass.

Wait, what do I do?

Keep walking?

But what do I DO?

Okay, look, but only for a second. You don’t want to seem rude.

And smile politely.

Shit! Don’t smile too big! Now she’s waving for you to come over, just keep going.

Haha – that guy just got yelled at for offering a 20 Euro note to a woman.

Okay, looks like I’m halfway through. Geez, this is like a haunted house at Halloween Horror Nights. Except women keep grabbing at you from behind the glass instead of werewolves. They’re all over the place.

Tall one, fat one, old one.

Eeep!! Tranny!

Wait, do I just ignore him? I know it’s rude, but…

Hey, did you ever wonder who invented shoelaces?

This place could totally be more efficient if they just added a bill slot next to the door and it worked like a vending machine.

hmmm… she’s posing totally motionless, like a statue. I guess some guys like that.

70% of them are on cell phones the entire time. I hope they turn them off when they get a client.

Finally, end of the street. I need to stop for a drink and absorb all that.

Well, look at that. This must be where the off the record girls work.

Moving along…

A few pictures from Antwerp to go along with ones from yesterday’s post.

The central clock tower in Antwerp

The top of the central clock tower

Sailors from the Tall Boat Races hanging from the mast.

Antwerp has the most beautiful train station I've ever seen.

Interior of the train station

One of the real gems of the trip that I wasn’t expecting was Antwerp. After a 60 mile ride from Bruges, I rolled up to the river and saw an amazing city skyline across the water.

Antwerp - Across the Sea

Bridge? What Bridge?

I had no idea how to get to the other side of the river and my Belgian isn’t quite upto snuff, so I was a bit lost. My GPS kept telling me to go across the water but there was no road to be found.

Lots of boats on the sides of the river. Maybe you have to be ferried across – seems kind of inefficient, but who knows? So, I explored the river bank. I rode a couple miles in each direction and still couldn’t find any way across.

Finally, I decided to trust the directions I was getting from my GPS and I zeroed in exactly on the place it was telling me to go. Lo and behold, there’s a building there. Inside the building, I discovered an ancient escalator. The entire thing was made of wood – the sides, th e housing, even the slats on the steps.

Carrying a 90 pound bike on an escalator was a challenge, but I was motivated by not wanting to kill the people below me if it slid down willy-nilly.

At the base of the escalator was the tunnel to get to the main part of the city. The tunnel was long and built for pedestrian traffic, of which there were thousands taking advantage (due in part to an event the city was hosting).

Hostel Territory

I checked in at the hostel, which was not my favorite. The place was essentially a bar with owners who decided to make a few extra bucks by renting out the crappy rooms upstairs – the floor of the bar patio was covered in sand, which meant everything in the hostel was, too.

The stairs were winding, as is the case in most old buildings in Europe, but these also added an angle of inclination with each step. By the time you got to the third story, they sat at about a 30 degree angle. God help anyone who had to climb those drunk.

Finally, the hostel (which housed about 30 people) had one restroom, one stall, one shower. I’m glad I shower in the afternoon since I’m off riding in the mornings.

Wanna Watch The Boat Races?

As far as the city goes, I lucked out big time. I arrived on the final day of the Tall Boat races. While the races were over by the time I arrived, I did get to see a nautical parade of old style sailing boats and their crews – including some who were hanging from the masts 120 feet up.

The city is really beautiful and it’s a place I’d love to go back to again for a longer stay. As it was, I was pretty exhausted so after an unexpected encounter with the city’s red-light zone (more on that in two days), it was time to head for bed and rest up for the next day’s ride to Rotterdam.

hehehe... boobs... hehe

Also includes surrounding territories…

Isn’t it strange that the direct translation of the number 80 in French is 4-20? Is there a hidden meaning there? Does FRANCE want to be the home of pot smoking in Europe?

France is full of warning signs about Mort. Really, how dangerous is some 70 year old Jewish guy?

France’s economic structure is partially built on inefficiency. Having 7 waiters to serve 10 tables wouldn’t fly in the US, but here it keeps people employed.

All the chocolate shops in Bruges sell beautifully crafted “special occasion” chocolates. Where the hell is the “shove as much in your mouth as you can” chocolate shop?

If I were ever in a wheelchair, I’d want one made out of a BMW motorcycle.

Lots of American tourists in Bruges. I guess Colin Farell movies still sell tourist attractions, if not theater tickets.

It’s odd to me that babies cry the same way wherever you go. I always expect them to wail with some sort of accent in other countries.

Just saw a heavy, old Belgian housewife in curlers running down the driveway yelling and shaking a dish towel at her husband, who was driving away. I love when movie cliches come to life!

Had a thought while singing the Gilligan’s Island theme song in my head (don’t ask) – the line that says “no boats, no lights, no motorcars – as primitive as can be?” WTF is a motorcar? The show aired in the late 60s, but evidently the theme song was written in 1912.

Canal in Bruges

Saw a porcelain cat while I was riding today. Fake animals are usually pretty disturbing in the first place and this was a statue of a hairless cat which enhanced the creep factor tenfold. It gave me that vague feeling of unease I get when I see the silly putty version of Tom Hanks in Polar Express.

A Rotterdam dance club advertises an after hours club every Saturday & Sunday morning from 5am – noon. Note to self. Stay away from the coffee here. And pretty much anything else consumable.

I’m starting to get the hang of the Dutch language. It’s kinda like English but you string an entire phrase together into one word. Like “wuldjulikunbier?”

Just saw a wandering rose salesman going bar to bar in Rotterdam’s red light zone. I think I love the new phrase I just came up with – “that’s like taking roses to a whorehouse.” I’m totally going to start using that.