TEAM AZ Rides Europe: Belgium and the Black Forest
Last Updated: February 6th, 2021
Part Four of TEAM AZ Rides Europe – CLICK HERE FOR ALL SEGMENTS
I pull up to the EuroStar train station and a thought runs through my head, “Yep, you’re taking your motorcycle UNDER the English Channel.” This is a first for me. I’ve taken motorcycles over the water via a boat, but never under. Twenty five non-event filled minutes later I’m rambling down the French countryside and I’m dry as an Arizona desert. Isn’t life rich?
On my ride through France into Belgium I’m chuckling most of the way. Just twenty four hours earlier I scrapped a year’s worth of route planning in favor of the route I was now riding. I decided to ditch familiar Spain in the pursuit of the personally unknown. I decided, thanks to a chance meeting on the Isle of Man ferry and some keen insight from my English friend Tommo, to alter my course for Germany’s Black Forest. Fortuitous was the fact that a day earlier the UK’s Motorcycle News highlighted a bed and breakfast that specializes in catering to motorcyclist in that region. How could I resist? It was all falling into place too easily….
What did this major plan change mean? First, I had no accommodations. Second, I had no routes planned. Third, while my Spanish is pobre, it exists; more than I can say for my non-existent French, Dutch, German, or Italian. Was this a dire case of You Only Live Once?
I reasoned my way through my decision. I can get homestays and BnB stays via AirBnB and other websites easily. I have a GPS and know how to use it. While knowing a language is helpful, it isn’t a requisite. Heck, my English is suspect at best and it hasn’t stopped me from surviving. Besides, I know sign language!
Belgium…here I come.
Waffles and Chocolate and Frites Oh My!
I navigate my way from Calais to Aalter, Belgium. I chose Aalter because it places me on a rail line directly between Bruges and Ghent. My plan is to leave the bike at the BnB when I visit some cities. Taking the rail into cities means far less hassle and I don’t have to worry about the motorcycle. Turns out to be a great decision and a philosophy I use throughout the trip.
My first rail trip into Bruges catches me off guard. The town is gorgeous and the people are very friendly. I come to understand some of the challenges facing the country (in political turmoil) and yet I feel at home. It reminds me of Portland, Oregon, in many ways.
The next day I venture into Ghent and am blown away by the architecture and mix of people living a modern existence amongst century old buildings. Every block brings a new and exciting perspective. The vibe of the city is a mixture of fresh hope and tradition. I end my day by skirting the edge of town and poke around some ruins. I discover a private concert being held within the ruins and I, ahem, invite myself into the show. Only one way to describe the evening: magical. This is why I travel.
Riding in Belgium has been easy and pleasurable, but one element of note is to understand that sometimes (depends upon signage) motorists entering a straightaway have priority. Sure enough, within five minutes of me riding around Aalter, a driver from a side street pulls out in front of me, and then another. This is one oddity that will take some practice understanding.
I leave Belgium with great fondness in my heart for that country. I meander here and there with several nights stay in France and a womble around Luxembourg before I head for Germany’s legendary Schwarzwald.
Sorcerers, Wizards, and Werewolves Await You in the Black Forest
I’m not one for mythology, but just the name Black Forest invokes a feeling of mystery. The proprietors of Pension Williams remove any mystery regarding my accommodations. David and Angela, a pair of British expats, make my stay comfortable. They cater to motorcyclists and had all the amenities I could have desired, including reasonable pricing. At one point I was ill and quarantined in my room for almost thirty hours. They ordered food for me and even helped me with laundry. I could not have been treated better. Plus, every night motorcyclists would gather in the downstairs eating area to discuss riders from earlier in the day. We shared information and passed along some vital myth busting particulars.
In a theme that would run throughout my entire trip, fellow motorcyclists were often my guide to discovering the best about a region. Without fail I could ask a motorcyclist about my plans and they would help direct me in ways that ended up maximizing the trip. I am reminded constantly of the power of social networking and the generosity of motorcyclists regardless of country origin.
In specific, motorcyclists guided me to the B500, a road that carves its way, up and down, side to side through the Black Forest. If you get a chance…strike that. Put it on your to do list. Make it a priority. These roads needs you to experience them; to feel them. My motorcycling DNA is forever altered.
<In Part 5, RiderCoach Bill finds himself running from the Germans in scenes similar to the Great Escape!> <CLICK HERE FOR ALL SEGMENTS>
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