After Barcelona, I barely touched Belgian soil. I un-packed and re-packed my suitcase, and I got on the next flight. North this time. Some 20 degrees Celsius colder than Barcelona.
I do not particularly fancy winter. Yet, there I was, late in the afternoon, breathing clouds of mist, as I got off the train in Uppsala, Sweden. I was here to catch up on a decade (!) of time with my best friend from upper secondary school (she had had to put in quite an impressive amount of effort to find me), and to do research on a possible trip this upcoming summer to the village of Sälen; a resort popular with most Swedes for its winter activities, but these days also with a Bike Park of its own.
A day or so later I took the train to go south of Stockholm, to visit my ever-ageing Dad. Here I also thoroughly researched the difference between the milk chocolates of Finnish Fazer and Swedish Marabou.
Less than 48 hours after having returned from Sweden, I got restless and I found a last-minute reasonable deal for an overnight stay in Kortrijk, with the Velofollies bike exposition in mind. I packed while waiting for final confirmation, and as soon as it was cleared I got into my car and took off. No problem finding the place from Brussels; just follow the highway E40 to Ghent, then E17 to Kortrijk, exit 2, take a right, cross the highway, and you have the Expo parking on your right-hand side.
I walked into the exposition with eyes red from what seems to be make-up sensitivity. Except for this I enjoyed my time here a lot! Reflections? Oh yeah .. A couple ..
- Exhibitors handing out brochures ignored me. How very peaceful! Being a female interested in a man-dominated sport, women still seem considered bored-stiff appendices of their bike-crazy male partners. While one or two was wearing something bike-jersey-like, the only thing I had on that could possibly have hinted an interest in sports was an old Polar watch. Plain clothes, high heels and lack of mud and bike did their part.
- Cool, they held the national championships in BMX here as well!
- Garmin GPS courses. Ah, that’s how they do it! RTFM (Read The F***ing Manual) does not work with the Garmin Edge. Instead of issuing a decent manual with the product, like everybody else, this company sets a new standard perhaps and offers *courses* to learn more about the product. 25 to 35 euro per participant. I say; let’s put it all out on the Internet for FREE.
This morning I was supposed to visit the trails in Kluisbergen. That was, until I dug out my beloved GPS and noticed that I had left it on all night, with close to zero battery power left. As it soon started pouring, I was in no mood to possibly get lost in the woods of East Flanders. Instead, I hurried home.
And so, now I am researching stuff for a trip to the Basque Country. I can’t wait to zoom to warmer climate again!
