Things I’ve learnt today.
- When there’s a road closure that’s not on the satnav, follow the deviation signs.
- Make sure no one is hunting wildlife with a shotgun when you’re having a forest pee, as it might turn into more than a wee.
- German speed limits suck.
- Netherlands have too many roundabouts, but they’re well clever.
- Ensure the mug is fully under the coffee machine otherwise it catastrophically spills and everyone looks at you during breakfast.
- They have ski slopes in Belgium.
Damp morning as it had rained overnight and Tigger was wet. Starting to clear after breakfast so a later start than planned.
First off I was in desperate need of fuel. Gladly my late start was in my favour as the only petrol pump in town didn’t open until 10.
Tank 8.
This is an Achilles M10 in La Roche overlooking the town. La Roche is a strategic river crossing in a valley. There’s loads going on in town, cafes, bars, canoeing and mountain biking. It sits overlooking the town and is dedicated to 5th Northamptonshire Yeomanry. Amusingly the turret points directly at the bedrooms of the hotel opposite.
Tank 9 is in the town of La Roche. Bit of a wiggle to get to as the main road was closed and there are one way systems in place but a few crossings of the river later and I found it. This is another Sherman M4A1 but a 76mm variant. It’s got a bigger gun (so he says). It sits in the carpark next to the Spar supermarket.
Long burn north to find my final planned tank at La Gleize. Calimoto took me a winding wooded route over the hills and inevitably there was no signal and then a road closure. Satnav refused to understand due to no internet so I faithfully followed the deviation signs and wound my way through the woods. Turns out the road was closed due to a massive military memorabilia street market. Cool amount of army bric-à-brac but cash only and I’ve come with just 15 euros cash and a bank card. Otherwise I might have returned with a full U.S. uniform complete with bayonet.
Found my way into La Gleize where my ultimate tank 10 was situated. It’s a German King Tiger. Their biggest and badassest tank and I was looking forward to a photo of my Tigger with a Tiger. Unfortunately the street market was around the King Tiger so no vehicle access was possible. Also, the bigass tank was surrounded by builders fencing, possibly due to the amount of people there. I’m actually a bit upset that I couldn’t get that super photo of the two Tigers next to each other. But hey-ho, onward to the second part of my mini tour. Titz!
Briefly stopped in Trois-Ponts where 3 rivers and roads meet (and there are 3 bridges) and stopped for fabled Belgian Fries at the world renowned (so the sign says) Friterie Bertrand. Ask any Belgian who makes the best fried potato chips and they’ll tell you that fries originated in Belgium. The French nicked the idea and called them French Fries. Triple cooked crispy chips with mayo and chopped greenery on top. I could feel my arteries clogging up with each oily mouthful. Friterie Bertrand has a massive following for what is basically a chip waggon.
Satnav had a wobble in the woods and I was busting for a wee. Parked up in a quiet wooded track and briskly walked into the trees for relief. Mid flow there’s a loud (and rather close for comfort) bang of a shotgun! A minute earlier and I would have actually wet myself. Much shouting in French with a German tinge and I guessed they were hunting boar, or grouse, or foreign motorcyclists. Prompt zip and go was in order, before me rustling in the bushes was their next target.
A steep right corner junction came up and I was badly positioned so ignored the satnav and turned left thinking I’d do a U turn down the road. The road was a steep downhill so I trundled downhill and found A BONUS TANK!
Tank 11 was a US half track with a machine gun in Stavelot. The plaques and a couple of cyclists informed me of the history and relevance of this river crossing. Looked like a nice town but Titz was waiting.
I crossed into Germany and realised their speed limits are a lot less than France and Belgium. 100kph max outside of towns. Germans being, well German, all drive their Volkswagens at the speed limit. It’s weird. They have signs asking you to slow to 70, then 50 when approaching a junction or roundabout. And the locals all strictly adhere to it. Pestky BMW drivers, but zi rules are zi rules!
After a long (and strictly speed limited) slog, I reached Titz! Yay! I joking said to myself that I haven’t driven this far for Titz since I was a teenager.
I had overhyped this expecting an ‘I ❤️ Titz’ sign and envisaged many twin speed hump signs (childish yes). In fact there was a sign saying Titz. And a big factory with a huge Titz sign on top. That was it. Trust the Germans not to utilise an amusingly named town in another language. The locals were not amused with me parked up taking selfies of their town signpost. Bet they’re used to idiot English tourists stopping.
Feeling quite deflated by the lack lustre of Titz, I took a round route via the Netherlands back to Belgium.
My detour through Heerlen in the Netherlands was quite pretty but dull from a motorcycle point of view. Many traffic lights and all country roads have cycle lanes taking up half the road. But their roundabouts are brilliant. You need to get in lane before and there are curved speed humps to stop you from cutting up the dual roundabout. Difficult to explain but it’ll be on the YouTube video. Genius!
Back into Belgium, zipping along the N666 (it’s a devilish beast of a road) and super luck but I found THREE BONUS TANKS!!
These were all at some Musee De Fort that I was whizzing past.
Tank 12 was a Patton mark 1. Tank 13 a Walker Bulldog and Tank 14 was a How (a tank with an artillery gun attached. Aces!
To the hotel. I booked a room at Hotel Halleux in Banneux. Turns out I’m pretty much the only person here in this 100 room hotel. Carpark is empty so Tigger is around a corner, locked to a drainpipe. It’s an old nunnery and run by a couple of old (very old) nuns. After my day of Titz, I have a very bearded (and very caucasian) Jesus looking down at me, over my headboard. I opened the lift door and am presented with the pope smiling at me. I’m sure he would have seen the funny side of my childish escapade. I hope so, otherwise I’m in trouble tonight!
As I’m the only guest, there’s no restaurant and no bar, so I’m in the town square at FreRo, the only place open having a (few) beers and eating schnitzel and BELGIAN fries. Proud to say my GCSE French is holding up well. No one speaks English here and the locals have started singling in French and trying to get me to join in. Le Addition Si Vous Plait…
Turns out Banneux is a Catholic pilgrimage site. In 1933, the Virgin Mary appeared eight times to an 11-year-old girl, Mariette. I’m some circumstances she could have been called a witch or sent to an asylum but it was treated as divine intervention and the tourists/pilgrims came.
Each year, hundreds of thousands of pilgrims come, alone or in groups, especially during Triduums of the sick, to confide to Our Lady their poverty, their suffering, their sorrows, their research. They come to confide in Mary, and to express their trust and their hope in Jesus Christ.
Even today, as she did for Mariette, the Virgin of the Poor guides each pilgrim from Banneux on the road of existence. She invites him to push the hands in the water of the Source, to draw true Life from Jesus (copied from the info leaflet in the very empty reception).
Ok, my sceptical self says to those suffering and sorry for themselves, to quit their whining, work hard, have people who love you and get a motorbike as it’s the cure of all sorrows. But! If it works for some and give comfort to others, as the French say, ce la vie.
I may go for a hand dip before bed. Never say never.
So I went for an evening wander to the Sanctuary de Banneux. Wanted to go as a tourist but not interfere with those who might be there to seek solace. As a churchy place goes it’s really pleasant. Totally open to all and no requests for donations etc. With little chapels here and there and La Source, a naturally fed pool of sacred water (with multiple taps for the pilgrims). It’s really tasteful and is quite a calming but thought provoking end to a manic, self-indulgent couple of days.
Now to sleep listening to the rain, the drunk Belgians singing and under the watchful gaze of the almighty.
There’s 4 minutes of me droning on about tanks (and Titz) if you want a gander over to YouTube.
https://youtu.be/poD9b0ALzzo
https://youtube.com/@TravelDudeTravel
http://www.traveldude.co.uk
Travel Dude 