Near the main station in Rotterdam, nestled amongst a wall of tenement houses and pubs, lies a small, cluttered workshop. From somewhere between the jumble of bicycles, wheels and metal, appeared the only man that knew any sort of order to the apparent chaos. A busy, oil blackened hand pulled a cigarette away from a…
From London, I took the train to Brugge, in North-east Belgium. The only noticeable change from the last time I was here being the sun to brighten up the dreary clock tower. Down a cobbled street, I found my way to the hostel I stayed at previously by passing the four windmills on the outskirts.…
Baguettes, croissants, wine spilling over from France and fine chocolates, strong beers and… waffles. My journey through Belgium has been a true ramble. With an excellent map of the region, donated by the cyclists I met in Luxembourg (cheers!), it’s no struggle to go everywhere and anywhere, especially with the thousands of cycle paths. It’s…