First a reflection on keeping your head screwed on.
Our large underslung gas tank was almost empty and had to be filled before departure for Europe (don't want to battle with getting gas in a foreign language)
. Went to the local Texaco outlet and because we'd never done this before, asked a bloke, who was just finishing his GBHS's gas tank, if he'd assist. Once he heard Peter's nasal South African / Australian accent he was won over, and agreed. First problem was that the LPG hose would not fit on the nozzle adaptor we were given. But that was overcome when he suggested we use the hose from the other side. It fitted! Problem number one solved. Then came problem number two . . . when we pressed the (red) button to fill the tank it only took one litre of gas. After trying to fill it for ten minutes we gave up and next day went back to Graham at Select First Motorhomes to see if el problemo could be sorted out. He tried. A caravan mechanic he had working there tried but, in the end, all he could suggest was to try again . . . so off we went back to Texaco. On the way Peter, who not having done the filling before, visualised how to go about the process i.e. fit the pump nozzle to the inlet, and press the red button
. WHOA!!! But NOT the red button for the pump that would not fit the nozzle. THE OTHER ONE. The tank took 70 litres of gas!! How's that for too many cooks spoiling the broth?
The Crossing (could be the title of a book or a movie)?
Followed Sheila's directions to the letter and she took us right to the check-in booth at the (Euro) tunnel. From then on it was just follow the groove and wait for "First Call". Having a few minutes to spare we picked up some take away coffee and on return followed the long winding road. Quite weird really. You literally drive into a train. After many admonitions and instructions on what to do if the train caught fire or the tunnel caved in, we were on our way. Exactly thirty minutes later we were driving off the train in Calais and straight onto the motorway North to Dunkirk (or Dunkerque as the French call it).
We very quickly found out that absolutely everyone in Europe drives on the wrong side of the road. Just as quickly we found out that if we did the same, we would be OK
. With Kathy's constant reminders and Sheila's very clear displays on roundabouts, it's all been hunky dory so far. Must avoid complaisance though.
Dunkirk was excellent. Stayed at the "Aire Licorne". A word about the Aires. There are over 3000 of them, all over France, Spain and Portugal. Generally they are free with the only cost being a few euros, if electricity is available. They're only available to motorhomes (and trucks if they're on the motorways). You can only stay one night but a lot of people stay for two. You have to use your own toilet, shower etc., but they do supply a place to get rid of waste water (including chemical). Obviously very cost effective. Some motor-homers spend months travelling these countries without ever paying for campsite fees. We don't intend doing that but it was good to try one. Had a really friendly Scottish couple next door. They have moved permanently to Cyprus but keep their van in Scotland. Very funny pair. Turns out he plays the guitar so out came Peter's guitarlele and the party was on!
Next day before moving onto Oostende we parked in Dunkirk to visit the Dunkerque Memorial Museum
. It's a tribute to the men who died (and lived) in the evacuation of Dunkirk. Very moving and worth a visit. Mind you, we asked a local for directions and she offered to lead us there. About three kms later she delivered us to the Port Museum - not what we were looking for! It took us another three kms of walking to reach the memorial. Turns out it was situated behind a building approximately 100m from where we'd originally parked. Hmmmmm . . . must remember to keep head screwed on. And use the Samsung tablet more effectively.
Next stop: the Veld en Duin campsite at Bredene just north of Oostende. On the way we were gobsmacked at how flat this country is. Really, really flat. And the campsite was no different. Really flat. But clean and that's important. It must be said, however, that Europeans sometimes do things a little differently. We're used to rolling up to a campsite paying a fee and getting all the goodies. Here, you get shower tokens (4 for two people for two nights). A token allows you an eight minute shower
. Strange. Then there are the toilets. If you want to use them, take your own paper and soap to wash hands. But this only applies to the womens' toilets. The mens' don't have any 'washing hands after business' facilities! Gotta go back to the van for that. We're really, really hoping to report after our next campsite that this is not generally the case. But let's talk about the next day which was spent in Brugge.
It was fantastic. A simply lovely City. Obviously very commercialised but not in an "in your face" way. Happily we walked the streets and took a boat trip round the canals. That was terrific. Our Captain was part of the show. He would not shut up! Jabbered away in French and Dutch interspersed with English. All with a voice that sounded - well, lubricated with more than water. Kept talking about James Bond while mentioning the Notre Dame, St Mary's, various important houses, museums etc but all in an unlinked fashion i.e. we have no idea what buildings he was describing or, in fact, anymore than one word out of ten that we was roaring over the diesel
. Don't get us wrong. If we could do it again, we'd go with him.
But wait, there's more . . . in order to get to Brugge we caught the Tram (light rail) into Oostende and then, having purchased the day excursion ticket, the bus to Brugge. Only the Coen Brothers could dream up a torture more exquisite than the bus trip from Oostende to Brugge. It was hot, and buses here don't have air conditioning (normally they don't need 'em), and, it went through every little village and hamlet on the way. It was only after an hour that Peter remembered that the receptionist had told him "don't get the bus it takes over an hour. Use the train". She was wrong it took an hour and twenty minutes. Needless to say after our very pleasant sojourn in Brugge (sightseeing, couple of excellent coffees, splendid lunch and shopping - yes, Kathy managed to buy something else), we caught the train back. And, here's the crunch - it took 11 minutes! That's ELEVEN minutes. So, make a note everyone. If there's a train - take it. If the only way is by bus - pack lunch and plenty of water!
Oh, and definitely visit Brugge!
We broke up the four hour drive to Amsterdam with an overnight on the outskirts of Turnhout
. Turns out the campsite is terrific. Baalsie Hei is set in green green fields and forests around a bunch of small lakes (ponds actually). And happy to report that our previous generalisation re facilities here is erroneous and should be ignored. They're great. Perfect in fact. So perfect that Kathy was suggesting we stay a few more days. Unfortunately, we'd booked a site in Amsterdam and are staying there for three nights.
Before we leave Turnhout, gotta tell you about the incident we had driving there . . we needed to visit a supermarket so Peter dialled into GPS "shopping centre X (forget exactly which one)". Well! She (that's Sheila but currently Peter isn't happy with her) took us into the centre of Turnhout on Market Day. Straight into a pedestrian mall (people and cyclists only). So there we were needing to back out with dozens of people and cyclists and a few cars turning up the street behind us. But, happy to report, that K did a stirling job of directing Peter, and the local traffic to a successful extraction
. We did little that afternoon except hang out at the campsite while Peter got over his attack of the jitters.
So here we are on a sunny Sunday (July 6) on the outskirts of downtown Amsterdam at the Gaasper Camping site (that 'gaasper' has a sort of desperate sound to it, doesn't it?). Huge but you wouldn't know it because of all the trees and shrubs around the place. Kathy's catching up on her journal and Peter's dribbling tea and digestives while typing this. K still has to do the editing and additioning. The trouble in front of us is the sheer scale of "things to see and do" in this city. We only have two days . . .
Day One was Rijksmuseum day and we caught the Metro (200m from our site) to the City and the Museum Quarter. Again our big mistake was thinking it would take us a morning and then we'd do something else. We left at 5pm, exhausted, walking from the Museum to Central Station. On the way, stopping for a beer and glass of wine (it was well over beer o'clock). But, let's not leave the Rijksmuseum before a few words about it
. Four floors of art presented in the most interesting fashion. No clutter, just a wonderful selection of pieces (paintings, drawings, sculpture and 'things' e.g. a full size biplane; a fabulous Yves St Laurent dress and lots of architecture. Nothing overbearing, just sober explanations of the part Art plays in our lives. How it can enrich us if we allow it. This is definitely a bucket list item - as is Amsterdam. Mind you, it was a warm, sunny day. Our walk through the City was fantastic. Along canals filled with barges and other traffic. Roads with only a few vehicles but a plethora of trams, and zillions of bicycles. Note about the bicycles - most of them don't have gears. Don't need them . . . no hills, just the gentlest of rises over the canal bridges. Anyway, the main thing to be wary of are female cyclists hurtling along with iPod in one hand, handbag over the other shoulder and ignoring red traffic lights. Oh, and the mopeds which also use the bicycle lanes! It was one gigantic buzz. Can't wait for tomorrow and the Anne Frank Museum, and, afterwards a canal cruise
.
It's now tomorrow and time for the Anne Frank story . . . we were told to 'get there early or late' otherwise you may be in a long queue. That was the understatement of the year! First of all the day dawned damp and a steady drizzle the whole day ensured that the umbrellas had a good workout. We arrived at Anne Frank house around 10am, an hour after opening time. The queue was at least 200m long (think of two rugby fields) and moving at snails pace. Just a long river of umbrellas as far as the eye could see. So, we decided the intelligent thing to do would be to have a coffee, walk through the City centre, do the canal cruise, and follow that with a visit to the fabulous restaurant atop the Biblioteek (Library), returning to the museum "later".
Coffee and Dutch Apple Pie and croissants at l'Hotel was !@#%& excellent. We'll mark that place for our next Amsterdam visit. This is a city we surely do want to visit again.
The walk through the City entailed a detour though the Red Light district which, we were told, was now a tourist district during the day
. Head down due the the drizzle, Kathy nudged Peter and said. "Look at that". "And that". "And that". Begorrah! Red lights and windows with scantily clad females, young and old, along the lane ways. This was now 11am, not pm. Got us wondering if they were just paid actors and that led to further thought that acting and prostitution are quite similar. Both professions feature paid actors.
The canal cruise was good. Spent an hour seeing Amsterdam from the canals but we both agreed that our Brugge canal cruise had been better. Listening to sterile commentary in four languages did not hold a candle to Brugge's James Bond Kaptein. Thereafter the day progressed as planned. A wholesome lunch at the library restaurant, followed by a reading session in the gigantic magazines section. Not finding an English language motorhome magazine Peter contented himself with Yachting Monthly, and Kathy a number of foodie magazines. It being 5pm we duly arrived back at Anne Frank house to find the queue even longer. Seems that by "later" the receptionist was referring to 8pm not 5.30pm. Well, we've seen the house from the street and that's all we can tell you, except that Kathy was keen to try again the following day with a much earlier start. The coin was flipped………...
Tomorrow morning we are setting sail along the coast to who knows where. There are a few alternatives and we'll see how we go . . . love this motorhome larking . . .
The Crossing and trek North . . .
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Dunkirque, Oostende, Turnhout, Amsterdam, , North Holland, Netherlands
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Comments

2025-02-10
Comment code: Ask author if the code is blank
Bruce and Kathy
2014-07-10
Great reading - Brugge was one of our favourites as well.
Enjoy
pseudonym
2014-07-10
Thanks for the positive comments. And how was Kakadu? And where are you now?? You'll have to start keeping a blog again!
Nar
2014-07-10
I'm luminous green with evny and getting greener each time I read the blog! Don't get back before I get there. Really pleased for both of you. Lots of love x
Joan McMurray
2014-07-14
Hi Kathy and Peter haven't read blog yet thought I would comment first. I can however see that you're really enjoying yourselves. What a trip and something to remember forever. Do you really want to go home????? Will comment again after reading blog. Lotsa luvvies Joan
Joan McMurray
2014-07-14
Hi Peter and Kathy have now read blog. That bit about the showering and hand-washing well I never; how the other half live. I'm a germaphobe. THAT EIGHT MINUTE SHOWER FOR TOKENS how weird is that. Oh well seeing I won't be flying, and I don't like germs, I don't like heights, and really scared of sharks and snakes. I guess I'm the world's biggest "wachamecallit". Love again Joan
pseudonym
2014-07-14
Thought we'd post a general comment!
Bruce and Kathy: Everyone might as well know that its you and your blog that set us on this course - thanks a zillion!
Nar: Whennnnnn? Are you joining us? Gotta plan!
Joan: We may not have time for the Pope. If he's willing to give us a million dispensations I may consider giving him some of our time. And Ireland is definitely on the list for next time.