An afternoon in Sluis

A really lazy start to the day for me. The Boss was up and pedalling early doors, he had a fixed car to collect 20 miles away so set off on his road bike in his civvies and normal shoes ‘and’ his debit card. I took advantage and had a slow start to my day. I wandered over to the facilities block for a shower. Bag packed, ever hopeful that I hadn’t forgotten anything, bagged myself an empty cubicle and set about placing all my lotions and potions within easy reach and in order of usage. It’s hard selecting the correct bottle without your glasses when you’ve got a head full of soap. I swear, shampoo manufacturers should invest in printing the words shampoo and conditioner in large print. Hot water is on a five minute timer, once it’s on, it’s on. I think I’ve got loads of time, I literally finish within seconds of it running out. The cubicles are really spacious, loads of room to get dry, oh yeah, I forgot underwear, I tramp back to the van hoping I don’t fall over and reveal my nether regions, clasping my towel to my chest in a vain attempt at not alerting the world to my bra less state.

Back to the van, kettle on, toaster on, chair and table positioned under the canopy, it feels like it’s going to be another warm day. I’m all set up ready for a lazy few hours, no need to move, this is the life.

The Boss returns with our car, I have never been so happy to see our car. Wondering if we’d have to sell our bodies (not that we would get much) to pay for the repair, I dared to ask … ’96€ all in, fixed” he replied, Carlo, the garage owner is officially our favourite Dutchman, after the one who gave us free Olives yesterday.

After Lunch, we decide that he hasn’t cycled enough and that we would like to head back to the town where we bought our shopping, Sluis (English pronunciation ‘Sl..oi..ss’). It was very pretty, but it was getting late in the day yesterday so we didn’t really give it a proper look. The cycling culture is still amazing to us, towns and villages are packed with bikes, it is completely normal to ride to the shops, the bar, everywhere and just park the bike in designated bike areas or any other convenient space. We are already finding it comfortable to padlock our bike in public spaces and walk away for a few hours. To be clear, there aren’t many places in the UK where The Boss would get off the tandem, nevermind leave it somewhere out of view.

We start to walk by the river but only get as far as the first bar, they are serving ‘Frites’. The idea of drinks and Frites sounds great, we are not sure of the appeal generally but when they arrive at the table they are piping hot, crispy, fresh and very tasty with Mayo (him) Curry ketchup (her) dipping sauces.

Time to meander the little streets, again quite expensive shops, he still wants a cap but it must be plain and less than 10€. Guess he’s not getting anything other than sunburn on his head today. What they do have here which took me quite by surprise for such a pretty, affluent little town is at least four ‘Sexy Shops’ as one of them was called. All quite busy too.

I really do need to get out more. Round the next corner and we’re into a little market square, thronging with people, cows and bulls. It seems we had walked straight into a local beauty pageant. These beauties were perfectly groomed beasts made up of pure muscle and pretty eyelashes. The breed, Belgian Blue, locally known in Dutch as Dikbil meaning ‘fat buttocks’ and what a bum they had too, one a Kardashian would be proud of. We saw Muscley Mary win her category then little Marcel led Billy BigBalls into the ring. Just what you want, five, double muscled bulls contained only by a rope fence, controlled by 8 year olds. We didn’t hang around to see the best of that category. Our money is on ‘BBB’ as we now call him.