From the Chamonix
valley it was a bit of a riddle as to how to get to the Belgium coast
economically. Ideally I could have caught a ride with someone or taken an inexpensive bus
but the bus wasn’t all that cheap and ran through the middle of the night.
Finding a ride takes initiative and a little luck. I posted a last minute ride
request on a local internet board and checked a rideshare website. There were
ride options but none in the direction I was headed.
French
trains are good but not cheap. A per hour rate for distance covered can vary
greatly. In USD, at the current exchange rate, an hour traveled by train can
cost anywhere from $25 to $75. Advance purchase, a month or two ahead of time,
usually provides a much better deal. If you are bit of a sleuth and don’t mind
doing a lot of investigating via confusing websites you might find a good last
minute deal. The French site is not very efficient and will often send you on a
route that is not the best. Another annoying fact is that the French site will
not always recognize or acknowledge a station that exists. At the very least it
pays to look at a route map and try different routings as well as purchasing
route legs separately. Also, times of day can make a big difference. Leave at 8
am and it costs 40 euros. Leave at 10 am and it costs 25 euros.
By trying
different routes I found a way to get to Dunkurque. It’s a 30 minute drive from
my desired destination of Nieuwpoort on the Belgian coast. The route took me back
through Lyon where I could catch a direct high speed train to Lille then a
local train to Dunkurque. The price was expensive and barely acceptable but it
was the easiest and most efficient option. I figured all the pennies pinched in
the Alps over the last 2 weeks made it perfectly ok.
From
Chamonix I rode the rails to Lyon where I got off for a night and was able to
stay at Fredric’s yoga studio again. I really like Lyon. It’s a city that feels
good to me. In the evening I walked to a lovely park with a lake and felt very
relaxed.The following morning I walked to the train station, Lyon Part Dieu. The high speed TGV was 20 minutes late but I had almost an hour in Lille to catch the local train to Dunkurque. If I were a dis-honest man I could have ridden the whole way for free. No one checked my ticket even though I saw officials on two trains. They looked like they couldn’t be bothered with checking tickets. I figure in France you only have about a 10 to 20% chance of getting caught if you ride without a ticket. If you do get caught I think they just make you buy a ticket for the entire route. As long as you cooperate with paying whatever they ask for I doubt you would get in much trouble. Anyone can get on or off any train at any time. There are no gates or anything to stop you.
So, Why Belgium? The reason goes back 37 years. In 5th grade there was a boy named Richard whose family had moved to Houston from Holland. His father worked for Shell Oil Company and had been transferred to Texas for one year. Richard spoke little English and was different which made him interesting to me. We were good friends all through the school year and exchanged a few letters after he returned to Holland before losing track of each other all together.
For Richard
it was a big experience and one he has many memories of. About 3 or 4 years
ago he tracked me down on the internet via my blog and friended me on facebook.
Naturally, thanks to social media, he knew I was currently traveling in Europe
and invited me to visit him in Belgium where he now lives. The timing was
really good for me to join him and his family while on vacation in Nieuwpoort
where they have an apartment near the beach for a week. After the cold rainy
Alps a beach sounded really good!
Richard met
me at the train station in Dunkurque. After not seeing each other for 37 years it may have seemed a little strange at first but not really. Richard and I are
both easy going and hit it off right away.
Richard is
married with two kids, 7 and 10, and couldn’t have a nicer more hospitable
family. His wife Carla is very welcoming. By time I arrived she was well on her
way to constructing a nice feast for an early dinner. Richard and I drank a
beer on the 6th floor deck. As Carla set the table we swapped
stories based on what we could remember when we were 11 and 12 years old. Later
in the evening we swam in sea and sat on the beach talking while the kids
played in the water and sand. Very generously they offered me a room to myself
for a 3 night stay.
Nieuwpoort
is a popular and busy modern seaside resort town next to a canal the leads to a
Marina. There’s long broad sandy beach front packed with condo’s and
restaurants. Boards, bricks and stones
pave a wide pedestrian path with a large buffer between shore and water. The
tide is pretty big. Everything is geared to be easy for families so there are
lots of kids. The beach can be packed during the day but virtually empty in the
morning and late evening. The architecture is a bit new, straight and square. The structures lack personality but it's a nice place with a pleasant
feel. A long pier with a beacon and a large oddly out of place English Tudor style building add a bit of character.
I arrived on
a Wednesday and on Thursday Carla drove us all over the countryside to visit a
WW1 monument, trenches, and the WW1 commonwealth cemetery. The region of
Belgium I am currently in saw an abundance of horrific fighting. My knowledge
of WW1 is limited so I found the day to be very interesting. I was also very
unaware of how many soldiers died during the war. In one Belgian battle,
lasting 100 days, there were over 500,000 casualties. In total around 10
million military personnel and 7 million civilians were killed with another 20
million wounded during the entirety of WW1.
After a day
of driving around looking for WW1 sites in a packed car with warm weather and
no air conditioning we were all a little tired. Richard and I took a beer break
while Carla got things in order to go out for dinner at a restaurant by the sea.
For two nights in a row I’ve eaten very well and have slept great in a real
bed.
After all
the sightseeing of Thursday we declared Friday as a go nowhere but the beach
day. I got up before everyone else and went out for a nice run. I started off to
my right along the beachfront and down the pier with a beacon where I retraced
steps to a boardwalk and path towards the Marina. I headed back via a park trail
before re-accessing the boardwalk to the beachfront where I headed the other
direction. At the far end I left the pedestrian front for the packed sand
uncovered by a low tired and doubled back to near where I began. I finished
near a jetty where I walked out towards the sea to a flock of seagulls milling
about the wet salty green moss stone. When I arrived back at the apartment
Richard and his family were just getting ready for breakfast.
As with all
my travels l like to mix it up. I guess you could call this a “Family Time”
segment as I catch up with an old friend.
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