Payback time !

Nearing 8pm we descended a hill into the suburbs of Brussels fate was unkind, as we entered the area of street lights I noticed Jonathans riding style become a trifle rough, and then I laughed a little

at his misfortune . a puncture, deep joy, this I could photograph and dine out on for many years

thats 4.5 hours riding and the jammy git gets a flat here, I park up to offer assistance, well he produces a tin of squirty instant anti puncture, and after removing the nail told me he had to ride off once the stuff had gone in, with age comes wisdom so I said listen to experience, its late we are tired, put it on the stand and run it in gear for a small while that will allow you to pack everything back up and ride away

Well it sort of worked, bloody spoked wheels and inner tubes !!!, I ended up clearing the nice new pavement of the excess that shot out, his tyre however was not yet fully inflated, so I suggest he takes it slowly for the last 4 miles and I would ride behind him in case if went flat again

of he rode, and the bike was not handling well, but he made a little progress perhaps a mile,it was then I espied a large sign that said TUNNEL, perhaps think I that is a Flemish name for this area, never mind carry on, but no it was a long curving fast tunnel ! ,and true to form as we entered it the tyre deflated, most likely the inner tube had spun, and the nail having gone in and out of the tyre would have torn a nasty hole in the tube, now quite tired he looked fed up, but never say die, I tell him to stick on his high vis jacket that the law requires, except he had not packed one and mine was deep in my bag

so I come up with a plan push the bike, but leave it ticking over and when you get to the bottom of the tunnel slip it into first and using the clutch let the bike help you along, with my hazard warning lights on we soon had him out of the tunnel and back to ground level, I rode on to the hotel to dump my bike allowing me to walk back and give him a hand pushing his , as I walked back I could hear the squeak squeak from the tyre rubbing the centre stand, but we soon had him in the Hotel car park and unpacked, and the mood lifted a little, actually I just took the piss

The staff at the IBIS Hotel in South Ruisbroek were wonderful and explained that a tyre place was not so far away, and for our evening meal the bar Vendome directly opposite did excellent food, so after a quick wash and brush up we relocated to the Bar, beer was ordered for our victim and we delved into the wonderful menu, Jonathan was the butt of much piss taking, serves him right for taking the piss out of my unique riding style, eventually we staggered out and off to bed,

First thing Saturday morning we are out of the door and down into the nearby shopping centre

the tyre place was soon located, however motorcycle tyres were not their speciality, so I suggest that things improve with food and we move to the shop next door and get breakfast, the Carrefour market had a large buffet area, and amongst the many things on offer at this time of the morning was BEER !! at first i thought it was merely an advertising stand, but no fresh Belgian beer could be purchased with your meal, we both thought that it was a trifle early so settled for coffee and croissants instead , I sat back and enjoyed the view while himself got busy in French trying to sort out a puncture repair place for motorcycles, however he was failing miserably his expression gave the game away , this weekend was it seems the anniversary of the chip or Belgian beer or something so everybody who was any body was out and about, so a little deflated we walked back to the Hotel, I explained that we could always book an extra night, as Sundays are not normally busy and get his bike fixed on monday, so when we got back our new best friend Abdul said yes no problem for you to stay another night, I will provisionally book your room, but whats the problem ? We explained, and Abdul went in to overdrive, flipping easily from English to French to Flemish he ran through our list of motorcycle shops and quickly discounted the idiots and time-wasters, Abdul is the sort of guy you will find all over the world with many friends and the the ability to seamlessly swap languages at the drop of a hat, sometimes I am ashamed to be English and so insular

within a few minutes a motorcycle shop was located who could on Monday uplift the machine and recover it for repair, their van driver being away that day, excellent, then I had a brainwave, if we could push the machine to them could we leave it there to save them time on Monday ? Yes sure no problem

So Jonathan gets the location of Yes you can motorcycles, tells me its not quite 2 irish kilometres and can we get going !

Abdul waves us off and wishes us luck

Himself locates the place on his phone and away we go, now the day was already warm but it got a great deal warmer, and pushing even a relatively small machine such as his was hard work, oddly it seemed a lot further than 2 km, however I reasoned that Irish ones are the same as Belgian ones and I must be unfit, a few stops along the way, including a fairly long one outside a bar topped up the power levels, and eventually we find a sign for the crematorium? at this rate I would be ready for it, but the shop was in sight, we delivered the machine and then I suggested we walk back and have lunch and a beer to celebrate our fine work, only once we had sat down and food on the table and beer supped did it come out that Irish Kilomteres and Irish miles are somewhat different to ours, and they are flexible, and open to debate, it turns out that the shop was 4km away, but he thought telling me that would discourage me !! I laughed it off dont mention it , while thinking off a way to get him back, after our fine lunch and change of mood we wandered back to our Hotel to greet Abdul and tell him of our trip, an then the phone rang, it seems the proprietor finished his other job, found an inner tube and fixed the bike, we could collect it today !!!!

much joy, so we piled onto my bike and a short time later we collected Jonathans better looking than mine Guzzi and rode back to the Hotel

For his sterling work we presented the boss of yes You can with a Genuine Guy Martin tea drinking hat ( I had purchased a selection of them to trade with the natives/other motorcyclists) Abdul was likewise presented with one and granted the freedom of Lincolnshire, what a day.

Now that Saturday I had planned to abandon motorcycling and take the train to visit the Atomium, you see as a child I used to watch films about it on BBC2 about the Expo there, it opened in 1958 and even after all these years is still a favourite with many generations of children, the original alloy skin had corroded badly so the entire structure was refurbished and new technology added

never mind I can come back to Belgium to see it another time.

well after all the exertions we both needed a shower and then decided to take the train into the City

of course nothing ever goes to plan, and after a short walk to the station and me purchasing tickets, I ask the technical member of the team to suss out which platform we need, some time later he is undecided, but the queue of people on the far platform gives me the idea that it may be that one

so we decide to make for that, arriving just as the bloody train leaves !!! never mind a 40 minute wait and the next one comes along, soon we are in the City of Brussels, himself having been here recently on the return from his eastern bloc tour

We wandered around and took in the sights while he fiddled with his phone attempting to locate a restaurant from the online reviews, well I know the modern generation like to find stuff this way, but to me part of the joy is wandering off the beaten track, and eating the odd unusual meal enriches it all the more, as we walk along admiring the night life, I espy and make eye contact with a well proportioned and well dressed Belgian gentleman who owns the restaurant, he asks me if I would like a meal and I reply yes that would be lovely, old fashioned manners and fine dress are usually a guide to quality, we are soon seated and the menu produced now himself being an impoverished student ( especially after paying for an inner tube) would likely be looking for a McDonalds style place, cheap and plentiful, but as I am paying, and we have had a strange day, I feel it incumbent upon me to spend the dosh and treat us both, after all if visitors do not spend money then cities like this lose their unique feel, now sitting down at the table I noticed that the crowd was passing very near, not unusual in European eateries, but I had noticed a preponderance of street traders pestering people, however we were not troubled, and observing the run of the place I soon notice that the concierge has his troops placed in such a way as to discourage pick pockets and traders

our meal arrived soon, freshly cooked with fine ingredients, and we eat like gods, in fact we both struggled as there was so much, the bill, well it was worth every penny and cost little more than eating a pub meal of microwaved food, we then did the tourist bit and watched a charity run through the city, observed the Brits on holiday, usual clues drunk and poor dress sense, and eventually wandered back to the station, now this is where the problems started, we missed the first train as the station is huge, and I had forgotten to note the platform upon which we arrived or the name of our station near to the hotel, after a bit of thinking I found it on the tickets, however our luck was out, we missed the last train, however the staff informed us that a bus ran from the terminus outside to take us home, what I had not realised was there were 2 bus stations one either side, of course we explored the wrong one first,and then finding the correct one arrived just as our bus departed !!

the words booze up and brewery come to mind, or our usual lack of planning

so as we sat and waited for the next bus we observed the night life of Brussels, as a City boy myself apart from the language nothing changes, so we watched a few working girls look for business, but by looking like a couple of scruffy workmen rather than tourists we blended into the background, then the drug dealers and the pimps worked the floor, and then the Russian emigre street fighting team kicked off , luckily too drunk to let blows connect properly, I sat back ready to apply a motorcycle boot to our Russian comrades should they join us, but then our bus arrived, and the driver spotting a familiar routine called the rozzers on his radio set, they arrived swiftly without flashing lights and proceeded to throw the drunks into a van, while the ones sober enough to leg it made for the station concourse , thankfully we climbed onto the bus and sat back as it wended its way to our destination, or course it took a great deal longer than the train, but we recognised the landmarks and were soon near to the hotel, after a short stop to collect a souvenir of our visit ( a traffic accident had left stuff scattered everywhere) we drifted off to sleep, reflecting on our good luck, and the kindness of every one we met.