20170930 – Trench Foot, Send Dry Socks; Packing Up, Heading Home; Bruges Without A Selfie Stick

A sunny day.

Then it’s back for a well deserved coffee.

In the evening it’s a buffet round at Dot and Barrie’s. Barrie’s cousin Heather and John have arrived so they join us. Drink a little wine. Well to be truthful a lot of wine and enjoy Barrie’s new Double Oak Bourbon – my it’s smooth – especially when drank alongside a Jack Daniels, rough as a badgers arse by comparison.

Stagger home in the pouring rain.

 

Who said it?
Paraphrased as “Islam is as dangerous in a man as rabies in a dog”


Sign in Bruges

How dreadful are the curses which Mohammedanism lays on its votaries! Besides the fanatical frenzy, which is as dangerous in a man as hydrophobia in a dog, there is this fearful fatalistic apathy. The effects are apparent in many countries. Improvident habits, slovenly systems of agriculture, sluggish methods of commerce, and insecurity of property exist wherever the followers of the Prophet rule or live. A degraded sensualism deprives this life of its grace and refinement; the next of its dignity and sanctity. The fact that in Mohammedan law every woman must belong to some man as his absolute property – either as a child, a wife, or a concubine – must delay the final extinction of slavery until the faith of Islam has ceased to be a great power among men. Thousands become the brave and loyal soldiers of the faith: all know how to die but the influence of the religion paralyses the social development of those who follow it. No stronger retrograde force exists in the world. Far from being moribund, Mohammedanism is a militant and proselytizing faith. It has already spread throughout Central Africa, raising fearless warriors at every step; and were it not that Christianity is sheltered in the strong arms of science, the science against which it had vainly struggled, the civilisation of modern Europe might fall, as fell the civilisation of ancient Rome.

Answer: Sir Winston Churchill.

Recently someone was arrested for quoting this. So much for free speech.

Beer wall in Bruges.

Pop into the local cafe for a coffee. What a den on inequity it is. It seems like they, the local snail and cheese munchers, go to church; pop into cafe for Bingo; free bread and pate; have a few bevies; and then probably go home and beat the wife to round off the day.

In the afternoon and evening it rains as promised.

Catch up on some ITV in the evening. First time we’ve watched anything on ITV for months.

We really should have invested in some Wellie Bobs, to cope with all this rain and our quagmire of a pitch. Send some dry socks as we’ll be getting trench foot.

Our caravan is at serious risk of putting in a solo appearance on eBay.

The 79th Division liberated the La Haye du Puits on the 9th July 1944.

Battle plan.

Around La Haye du Puits there was fought a very bloody battle for Montgardon, referred to as Hill 84. The 79th Division fought for this area for five days at a cost of 1,500 GIs. When you add the causalities who fell in the battle for Hill 122 Montre Castre which is just to the east of the town, the number rises to 5,000 killed or injured. and was the most costly weekend in the European conflict. They then continued though Normandy and into the Loire Valley and then on to Germany.

There is a fine monument in the town to all the liberators and civilians who lost their lives during the liberation.

The town was badly damaged and was rebuilt in the standard concrete, but has recently been given an attractive paint job, making it look more Dutch than French. The parish church lost one of its spires during the fighting which has never been replaced.

Time to pack up and clean the caravan. A joyous sort of day but at least it doesn’t rain until the evening.

Go out to Hotel Commerce for dinner with Dot and Barrie and cousins.

Then overnight we get a parting deluge and a drum voluntary on the roof. Amazed this caravan hasn’t floated off like a 21st century aluminum arc.

Queen Wendy.

Can’t believe it take 135 minutes to get up; leisurely breakfast; pack up car; winterise and close up caravan. Mind you we’d save half an hour if we didn’t bother trying to tease the water butt into an expensive green bag, designed specifically to keep it clean, warm and safe, and purchased by her indoors. Never mind with all the mud on the water butt it doesn’t really need any extra protection. Pots for rags. Another memo to self “loose green bag or use it as barbecue fuel next year”.

Pretty good drive up. 350 miles and just a 6 minute delay and hardly any traffic. No chance of that in the U.K.

Car park garage was tighter than a bull’s ass during fly season. Nearly had to get the roof down or go on a crash diet to get out the car.

Hotel’s quite quaint. In the center of Bruges by the canal. Our rooms right by the canal so no doubt tomorrow morning we’ll have barge loads of German tourists peering in. Hotel provides a mosquito killer plug to deal with any mosquitoes that want your blood. Better not open the window as they’ll be in and dive bombing Wendy.

Wot no shower! Well yes there’s shower caps and a shower in the bath, but not mounted on the wall and no shower curtain. This is going to be fun, by the end of me shower the bathroom floors awash with water and wetter than a Normandy caravan pitch in September. This is not going to help my trench foot. Where has the common sense gone.

Out around Bruges for tea. Well not too far as Wendy “doesn’t want to spoil it for tomorrow”. At last some rabbit in a Flemish stew, not very appetizing that flem word, but it tasted good.

Have another famous Belgium beer back at the hotel. Then it’s time for some Armagnac and watch Suits. Instead a lengthy FaceTime with Anna whiles the night away.

 
How the EU works: In Germany, they make the rules, in Britain, they obey the rules, in France, they bend the rules, in Spain, they break the fules and in Italy they have no rules at all.

Bruge

There was a cruise ship full of english, french, germans and italians, sinking in the middle of the med, the captain had radioed for help and been told that if the passengers jumped into the sea then they could be picked up. Now, being sort of busy trying to salvage what he could of the ship, he sent his young second in command off to give the passengers their instructions. 5 minutes later he came back looking disappointed. “What’s wrong?” the captain asked? “They all refuse to just jump into the sea like that, they won’t listen to me”, replied his second in command. So, looking frustrated, the the captain went off to do it himself. He too came back 5 minutes later, however he, unlike his second, returned a smug grin! “How did you do that?” demanded the second “Well…” started the captain”…I told the British it was traditional, I told the French it was fashionable, I told the Germans it was an order and I told the Italians it was forbidden!”

A prize was to be awarded for the first person to discover a horse with black and white stripes like a zebra. A German, a Frenchman, an Englishman and a Spaniard participated hoping to win the prize of 1,000,000 euros. The German decided to spend weeks in the National library researching into horses with black and white stripes. The Englishman went straight to a shop in Piccadilly which specialises in hunting gear, bought all the equipment necessary and set off for Africa in his quest for this strange creature. The Frenchman bought himself a horse and painted it black and white . The Spaniard went to the best restaurant he knew in Madrid, ordered an expensive meal for himself with a fine bottle of wine; after the meal he ordered an expensive Havana cigar and a Napoleon brandy, sat in a luxurious arm-chair in the hotel and began to consider what he would do with the 1,000,000 euros once he had found this remarkable horse with black and whte stripes.

What a pokey room, noisy from other rooms. I think there was an elephant learning to tap dance in the room above. You could hear everything said in adjoining rooms so thank god no one was having nooky in the next room.

Bruge famous photo opportunity.

Then the tight arses in the hotel wouldn’t let us leave our car – retribution is mine says Tripadvisor – so we have to find the main car park. What a bloody nightmare that was. Major road works and to top it all the entrance to the car park is in the underpass. Have to say though once we’d found it was very impressed – green lights over empty bays and counts of available slots. What’s more plenty of room to manouvere, not your typical alloy wrecker.

Pleasant stroll around Bruges. What a lovely city, spoilt only by the infestation of droves of selfie wielding tourists.

Then it’s a short drive to the port. Armed with my sea sick pills I’m prepared for our crossing which is forecast at gale force 6 – joy. Pleasant evening meal and not a bad nights sleep. Crossing was smooth.

 
The Belgians are known to like chips VERY much…

Bruge

So, How can you make a Belgian go crazy?

Lock him into a round tower and tell him there are
chips in the corner.

Last sunday, the entire submarine belgian fleet sunk. Why?
They organized a doors open day.

Two Belgians walk on the street and they see something they do not recognize. Here is the conversation:
– Do you know what this is?
– I have no idea.
– Neither do I. How can we find out?
– Maybe we can taste it and see if we recognize it.
– OK.

Bruge

One Belgian takes a sample with his finger and tastes it. The other does the same. The first one says:
– You know, I think it is dog poo.
– I think you are right. Let us taste again to be sure.
They taste again.
– Yes you are right. This is dog poo.
– Definitely. I am glad we found out.
– Yes. Good to know. And it is a good thing we did not step in it.

Welcome home to blue skies. Rain by the time we get to the hellhole.

 

Heading home.

Don’t I just love the stupid waste we see at Hull. There’s about 6 border patrolmen and 5 police all hanging around having a chat about last nights sexual exploits no doubt. It would have been interesting to see the women in high heels chase someone.

What a disgrace, wasted resource. Surely they either don’t need all that staff or they could walk up the car line and have a chat to passengers. That way they might notice anything unusual or dodgy. Bear in mind that the car had been searched, by Group4 of all people, when boarding at Zeebruge.

Our next escape.