My experiences with thru-hiking

Danger. Like The Picture Says.

Posted in Hiking GR5, 1500 miles across Europe by onefootatatime on May 29, 2009

May 25 2009

May 25 2009

Woke up this morning and had breakfast with Anne, Simon and Julia. Simon made himself a sandwich with slices of chocolate inside. Apparently, that’s one way to eat chocolate in Belgium – there’s even a brand for “morning chocolate”. I stuck with my classic bread and butter. Anne makes her own bread at home, and it’s really good.

The food is very simple and really tasty in this household. The dinner Anne prepared last night was just broccoli soup, which we had with bread, cheese and some sliced meats. The soup was made with broccoli, leeks and celery.

I didn’t have time last night to update my blog, so I spent the morning typing stuff up while Simon and Julia headed for school. Anne suggested I stay for lunch, and that she’d give me a ride to the next town. It sounded like a good idea – how quickly I was getting used to the luxury of a home.

When Simon and Julia came back for lunch, Anne had prepared what looked like peppers stuffed with mince in a tomato sauce, and served it mashed potatoes – also very tasty. After Simon and Julia went back to school, Anne and I sat and had tea, and chatted about kids and education.

And then, we were on our way. Anne drove me to Stavelot, and as we passed the town of Francorchamps, she told me that they had a beautiful racecar circuit. It was like out in a middle of nowhere.

I got off at Stavelot and waved goodbye, and got back on the trail. Hardly an hour went by when dark clouds appeared above me, and I had to pitch my tent too close to someone’s home. After the storm passed, I heard a dog barking, and it got closer, closer, and closer until it was growling right in front of my tent. Of course, a few minutes later, I heard some footsteps and someone call out. Busted! I unzipped the tent and poked my head out. After asking the owner of the property if he spoke English (and he did), I explained about the storm (which he obviously had to endure as well), and asked if I could camp there for the night. He said fine, as long as I don’t dirty the place or start a fire. Whew!

I’m glad he didn’t kick my ass, because he looked like someone who could. He sported a handlebar mustache, and could have passed for one of the characters out of a Guy Ritchie film.



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