On a slack line (Diest, Belgium)

One of the rare occasions on this trip where I rode on gravel without difficulties.

This morning, as I wanted to get as close to my final destination as possible, I made a conscious effort to get out of my wonderfully warm sleeping bag at the reasonable hour of 8. Despite this, it was not an early start, and I only rode out of the campsite a little before 11 (what I was doing until then, I still don´t know). Add to this the fact that I totally ignored the signposting for a ferry across the nearby canal only to have to return to it half an hour later, and I ended up riding 10 extra km right in the beginning of the day - bloody annoying!

However, once I really managed to get going, things started moving fast, and I was able to get much further today than I had dared to hope. Finally, my body seemed to be totally adapted to the cycling, there were no cramps, and even the headwind did little to slow me down. I even followed the marked cycle routes for much of the day, and although they do wind a little, I got to see a lot of lovely countryside scenery, lush forests and lots of farms. Even the weather was co-operating nicely, as apart from the occasional slight drizzle, the dark clouds that were hanging dangerously low the whole day never really released their load.

And yes, the fact that the trip is now really coming to its end was probably the biggest contributing factor to my good humor. My visit to the Netherlands was over before I even realised it, as I crossed to Belgium at 4.30, feeling triumphant. Psychologically, the effect was far greater than I had expected; I felt light-headed with joy, and all the strain of the previous weeks cycling seemed to have vanished.

A friendly encounter somewhere in the Netherlands.

In Belgium, what awaited me was a lot of flat ground and extremely straight roads, sleepy villages with almost no-one in sight (for a while, I was wondering whether something awful had happened and everybody had left, then decided it must just be a public holiday), and in the end, another gift of hospitality by total strangers; Riding into Diest and hoping to find somewhere cheap to stay, I approached the first people who looked like they would speak English - and they offered me a place on their coach!

They were on their way to a park to practice juggling and walking on a slack line and invited me to come along. Thus, I spent a lovely evening with them and even got to try the slack line myself - something I had seen someone doing in Berlin and thought to myself I would want to do. It was hard but not as impossible as I had thought, and seemed to bring me face to face with many of the same issues as tango does; finding one's centre and staying on top of it, focusing, relaxing, basically: just being present.

 In the park with Toon and Kaja.

Tomorrow, I will make the final approach to Brussels, about 60 km from here. Thus, it looks quite likely that I can make it well before the beginning of my last tango appointment on this trip,  Marathon de Chocolate.