Post by Irish Stu on Jul 8, 2013 14:20:39 GMT -6
For the second time in a month we boarded the car ferry at 7.30am for the 1.5 hour crossing from Dover to Calais, France, this time with some friends, then drove along the coast to Dunkirk for lunch and shopping. A couple of hours later we were back on the road and it wasn't long before we crossed the boarder into Belgium. I have never driven between countries in Europe before so was very surprised there was no passport control, just a sign saying 'België' to let you know you had left France as we roared past it at 90mph. An hour or so later we arrived at our destination, the southern town of Kortrijk where we would be staying in a ten bedroom boutique hotel in a converted péniche. All the rooms are below the long upper deck that was home to the hotel's bar and restaurant. They are small, but then that was to be expected in a former houseboat, but they were equipped with everything we needed, including a view across the river that was only a foot below the window sill.
My research had told me that Belgians in this area, which is very close to France, speak French. WRONG. They speak Dutch, and between us we didn't speak a word of the language. Thankfully almost everyone we met spoke good English, and if they didn't they would go and get someone who did. Phew.
After unpacking we made our way up to the deck for cocktails and watched the world go by on the river. Later, after a nap and a shower, we made our way into the centre of the town for dinner. We chose a pleasant looking restaurant/bar which was one of a dozen or so around the edge of the town's huge main square, so we sat outside and enjoyed some of the best steaks we all agreed we'd ever eaten, along with sampling some of the many Belgian lagers on the menu. The atmosphere was fantastic, with hundreds of people sitting around the various taverns enjoying their drinks on a hot summer's Saturday evening. This was such a contrast to how a town centre back in England would have been at the same time with a couple of thousand young people drinking heavily, making a lot of noise, arguing, fighting and being sick. No, this was pure heaven and after many years I now understand why so many Brits retire to rural France and these beautiful areas of Europe. Eventually we made our way back the hotel where more cocktails were drunk before we made our way below decks for a good night's sleep after a very long day.
The next morning, as the day began to warm up, we ate breakfast on the deck... bacon, eggs, croissants, yogurt, fruit, muesli, a selection of breads and rolls, cold meats and cheeses... it was all there on the buffet, so we all ate enough to keep us going until we were back on the ferry that afternoon. We also couldn't help noticing that the Belgians were out in their bicycles in their hundreds along the riverbank, and all sporting professional looking cycling clothes and helmets. Cycling is popular in areas of Europe like this which are totally flat, and on the weekend is clearly a family activity. We then took a walk into the town to explore it properly. I loved the architecture which was very similar to Dutch towns, and we found two more large open squares as well as some interesting street art and a fabulous indoor shopping mall hidden away off a shopping street that reminded me of London's famous Carnaby Street.
After a coffee back in the main square we headed back to the cars then made our way back through Belgium and France where we made it to Calais just in the nick of time to catch our ferry home and listen to Murray win the men's singles at Wimbledon on the car radio once we were back in the UK and heading home.
Our hotel
The view from our room
The town square
Kortrijk Town Hall
Unusual street art
An interestingly decorated bicycle rack
Kortrijk Cathedral
Parked by the hotel on Sunday morning... classic MG Roadster in British Racing Green
My research had told me that Belgians in this area, which is very close to France, speak French. WRONG. They speak Dutch, and between us we didn't speak a word of the language. Thankfully almost everyone we met spoke good English, and if they didn't they would go and get someone who did. Phew.
After unpacking we made our way up to the deck for cocktails and watched the world go by on the river. Later, after a nap and a shower, we made our way into the centre of the town for dinner. We chose a pleasant looking restaurant/bar which was one of a dozen or so around the edge of the town's huge main square, so we sat outside and enjoyed some of the best steaks we all agreed we'd ever eaten, along with sampling some of the many Belgian lagers on the menu. The atmosphere was fantastic, with hundreds of people sitting around the various taverns enjoying their drinks on a hot summer's Saturday evening. This was such a contrast to how a town centre back in England would have been at the same time with a couple of thousand young people drinking heavily, making a lot of noise, arguing, fighting and being sick. No, this was pure heaven and after many years I now understand why so many Brits retire to rural France and these beautiful areas of Europe. Eventually we made our way back the hotel where more cocktails were drunk before we made our way below decks for a good night's sleep after a very long day.
The next morning, as the day began to warm up, we ate breakfast on the deck... bacon, eggs, croissants, yogurt, fruit, muesli, a selection of breads and rolls, cold meats and cheeses... it was all there on the buffet, so we all ate enough to keep us going until we were back on the ferry that afternoon. We also couldn't help noticing that the Belgians were out in their bicycles in their hundreds along the riverbank, and all sporting professional looking cycling clothes and helmets. Cycling is popular in areas of Europe like this which are totally flat, and on the weekend is clearly a family activity. We then took a walk into the town to explore it properly. I loved the architecture which was very similar to Dutch towns, and we found two more large open squares as well as some interesting street art and a fabulous indoor shopping mall hidden away off a shopping street that reminded me of London's famous Carnaby Street.
After a coffee back in the main square we headed back to the cars then made our way back through Belgium and France where we made it to Calais just in the nick of time to catch our ferry home and listen to Murray win the men's singles at Wimbledon on the car radio once we were back in the UK and heading home.
Our hotel
The view from our room
The town square
Kortrijk Town Hall
Unusual street art
An interestingly decorated bicycle rack
Kortrijk Cathedral
Parked by the hotel on Sunday morning... classic MG Roadster in British Racing Green
