Dutch Borders, Day 4

A wood in Belgium, or possibly Holland.

Last day, bit of a shame really as my body is finally starting to work properly - my right knee stopped hurting after only a day or so, but of course it had been leading to a slightly unnatural gait and a strained muscle or two.  You'd think walking along completely flat terrain would be easy, I guess I am not as young or fit as I was, still, I stride north out of Hamont at a fair pace.  Today my route follows sandy tracks through forest and scrub - it is not exactly unspoilt wilderness, but it is nice that there is little sign of human impact other than the path I'm walking on.  At some point I walk back into the Netherlands, with as little sign or ceremony as when I left.  The woodland paths take me most of the way to Valkenswaard, where I get a hamburger for lunch - only in Holland would this come coated in breadcrumbs and deep fried!

Can't say I'm not seeing the sights...

From here it is back into the woods as I continue north towards Eindhoven.  This area seems popular with mountain bikers - I guess if you don't have any actual mountains, then an undulating sandy path through the trees is better than nothing.  Eventually I emerge into the open, and after a pleasant stretch alongside a small river I reach the outskirts of the city.  My route is along another canal here, but rather than being a green corridor it turns out to be rather industrial, still it is interesting enough to watch the cranes in action, and then I walk through a concrete factory, not sure if that was a public road to be honest.  That is as close as I get to Eindhoven, the canal continues into pleasant open country, and takes me all the way to the airport.  Time for a beer, then back to Stansted...

Well, this was certainly a different kind of hiking experience.  Less of the gruelling ascent into howling gales in the wilds of nowhere, and more of a lengthy stroll along a variety of entirely flat surfaces, all the while surrounded by civilisation.  And it doesn't really get more civilised than Holland - everything is so neat and tidy, I feel a little out of place at times in my scruffy outfit.  But still, it is certainly nice to immerse myself in a different culture - albeit, not very different.  I think that in this part of the country, a fair distance from the rather special case that is Amsterdam, you get to see the real Holland.  And it has to be said, it is not a great deal different to England.

Last canal of the trip, was rather charming.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Dutch Borders, Day 3

Street market in Heythuysen.

Another day in the Netherlands then.  I walk out of Heythuysen along the main street, seems it is market day.  Rather charmingly, while there are a few professional stallholders, it is mostly people selling their unwanted belongings, car boot style.  There are many used toys, but I resist the urge to buy lego, and head out of town.  A few miles of roadside cycle path, then I meet a canal, given I'm in Holland it's about time I walked along one of these.  Quite impressive it is too, more like a ship canal than the kind of thing we have around London.

I continue along canals for several miles, eventually reaching a fairly large town, Weert.  The canal takes me all the way through it, although I do stop for a beer and a 'kaas tosti' - my Dutch is improving.  Not far out of Weert I leave the canal, back onto cycle paths for several miles of woodland.

Canal!

The last couple of days I've strayed a little away from the border, essentially I've taken a short cut.  Time to get back to it then, as my destination today, the Villa Christina in Hamont, is in fact in Belgium.  In the event I walk all the way into Hamont with no sign of a border, then in the centre of town I notice shops advertising their web presence at .be addresses rather than .nl.  Guess I'm in Belgium then.  Seems pretty quiet, well, it is Sunday night.  I find a beer and some pizza anyway.

Belgium!

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Dutch Borders, Day 2

Working barge on the Maas.

After a much needed night's sleep I set out on the second leg of my little escapade, heading into central Venlo.  Seems to be a destination for day trippers judging from the busy coach park.  I have no time to visit the Limburger museum however, another eighteen miles or so to do, most of it along the river Maas.  This is a broad, placid waterway plied by pleasure craft and substantial working barges - plenty of cargo in Holland still goes by boat.

The Maascorridor.

I'm pleased to find my route is a marked 'voet pad', that is, footpath, the Maascorridor.  After many miles of tarmac cycle route yesterday it feels much better to have grass underfoot.  I walk along with the sun-dappled river to my left, birds sing in the trees and dandelion seeds float in the air, it's all rather idyllic.  The miles roll on and before long I'm at my lunch stop, Kessel.  A pleasant little place, and as might be expected it does have a castle.

Back along the Maas, past a complex of locks built large enough for barges, and then I leave the river at another small town, Neer.  Walking through very English looking suburban style streets, the neatly trimmed hedges suggest this is a popular retirement destination.  From here I take another footpath, this time through woods, to the destination for today, Heythuysen.  The hotel Het Anker turns out not to have a bar or restaurant, but these things are nearby so all is good.

Fortifications at Kessel.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Dutch Borders, Day 1

Crossing the border into Holland.

Regular readers (that's me then) may recall me skiing from Italy into France a month or two back, and wondering why I'd not done something similar on foot.  Well, here I am then, flying into Dusseldorf Weeze airport (not in fact very near Dusseldorf), the plan being to walk into Holland - well that is today's plan at least.  Simple enough really, the airport, an old RAF base, is only a mile or so from the border, and so after a quick stroll, and then no more ceremony than, say, passing from Sussex into Kent, I'm in a different country.

Of course there is plenty more to do, I have a little over twenty miles planned.  To begin with I walk through the Maasduinen national park, an area of sand dunes which I guess is the nearest the Netherlands has to hills.  Then on through flat country, a landscape of woods, still lakes and fields bisected by drainage ditches.  Not exactly awe inspiring but certainly relaxing, although my right knee isn't feeling too happy.  Maybe I should have brought my poles?

The Maasduinen.

I stay near the German border, crossing it a couple of times without any noticeable change of scenery.  Cycle route signs with either 'D' or 'NL' are my best indicator as to which country I'm in.  Destination for the day is Venlo, a sizeable place, however as I didn't want to walk too far I'm stopping at a motel to the north of town.  Well, it has a bar and a surprisingly good restaurant, what more do I need.

Campanile Hotel, Venlo.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Back in the Brecons

A bit of water never hurt anybody.

Well, I certainly had a good time on my last hiking trip to South Wales, weather notwithstanding.  So when my sometime walking companions Stuart and Sarah suggest a weekend in the Beacons, how can I refuse?  For some reason they don't seem entirely convinced by my plan of a four day hike from Newport to Swansea via Pen y Fan however, so we go for hiring a cottage in the rather charming village of Llangors, not far from Brecon itself and within the National Park.  The presence of a micro-brewery in the village may influence our decision slightly...  Arriving in the village around lunchtime, we have time for a little wander in the afternoon, so head out around the local lake.  Well - as it turns out the flooding from earlier in the year hasn't quite subsided in this part of the world, so some of our walk is more in the lake than around it.  Pleasant spot though, and after a while we climb a little and get out of the water.  Then back to the village where we find one of the pubs does rather excellent food (pheasant with black pudding and bacon!) and the other, with the micro-brewery, has live music.  Fun is had.

Snow-capped Pen y Fan.

Day two in Wales and we decide to go for it, Pen y Fan, the highest point in the park.  We drive the short distance to the Storey Arms, which turns out to be just about on the snow line - nice to see some of the white stuff after a mild winter with no snowfall in London.  Lots of people up here, some more appropriately dressed than others for the conditions, biting wind often with sharp ice crystals in it.  It is certainly bracing when we reach the summit, though at least the snow is preferable to rain, and there is something of a view, certainly better than my last trip here.  From the top we leave the throng and head North, down into the rather scenic Cwm Llwch and then to the Tai'r Bull Inn, still much as I remember it from all of two years before.  From here it is a few miles of gentle uphill to reach the car, and then back to Llangors for dinner.

Trig point on the Offa's Dyke Path.

Sunday, and Sarah has expressed an interest in Lord Hereford's Knob, a six hundred and ninety metre high peak at the far east of the National Park, also known as Twmpa.  Apparently back in the day the Lord Hereford of the time would travel up here to take his lunch with a commanding view over his county, as you do.  Not sure he'd fancy it now though, after a long and somewhat scary drive up steep single track roads to reach a car park, we exit the car into driving wind with fat flakes of snow in it.  Less than a mile to the summit, but it is challenging to say the least - it's a considerable relief to reach the top and then turn ninety degrees so that the wind is behind us.  Thankfully the weather improves as we walk a fair distance along a ridge, with the sun shining as we clamber down towards Llanthony Priory.  The pub in the crypt is still there and provides a tasty lunch, whereafter we climb steeply up the other side of the valley to meet the Offa's Dyke Path.  Of course this is along a ridge, one marking the border with England in fact, and fine views together with a well maintained path make for a good afternoon's hike - I must come back and do the whole thing some time.  It is a bit of a shame that when we reach the village after another long drive, anticipating pigeon sausage and the like, we are told that there is no food 'cos it is Sunday.  Ho hum, we end up with delivery pizza and David Attenborough back at the cottage, could be a lot worse.

Stuart, Sarah and me on Pen Cerrig-Calch.

Last day, and after exiting the cottage we drive back towards Newport and the train, still, time for some more hill before returning to London.  Today we eschew taking a route planned by me in favour of a rather good book of walks in the region, picking a seven mile or so climb out of Crickhowell, up Pen Cerrig-Calch and then down over Table Mountain.  Makes for a good little hike, from above you can see why Table Mountain is so named, and the views are good too.  Then back into Crickhowell for some dragon sausages (made with real dragon I am sure) before getting the train.  Well, this was a nice little trip I must say... certainly good to get to the top of Pen y Fan and have enough visibility to know I'm there.  Maybe it wasn't the most adventurous thing I've done - roll on next month.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Sauze d'Oulx, Part 2

Previously on Travels with Timmy... I'm stuck halfway up a snowy mountain in northern Italy, about a kilometre from the village of Sestriere which I can't see thanks to the near white-out conditions.  What to do?  Well, I probably should trudge back up the road I just skied down, and then try to find a route to the village and most importantly the gondola station.  But no... I have a compass, looking east I can see some more or less open ground sloping downhill, and I have skis on!  Over the top I go then, and slowly edge down the slope.  It certainly doesn't feel dangerous, rather the snow is so deep that I struggle to move at all... but then after only thirty metres or so, the fog closes in and I suddenly realise I am still moving, but can't see where I'm going or how fast... a panicked attempt to turn and I'm in the snow, with one ski off.  Oops.

It is at least a pretty area to get lost in.

Well, some luck at least, poking around in the snow I manage to find my ski.  The white stuff is waist deep however, and there is no way I am getting the thing back on.  Instead I proceed to wade, scramble, and slither my way down the slope - it is a very slow process indeed.  It's a considerable relief when I'm able to see far enough ahead to realise there is a road below me, although it still takes a while to reach it.  In all, I probably spend an hour or so getting down that slope and then walking along the road to the gondola, not really what I'd hoped to be doing today.  All good exercise I suppose, and things pick up in the afternoon as the weather clears a little.  Rather more lively in town come evening too - although I can't find any live music barring the karaoke in Paddy McGinty's.  Manage to slip over onto my backside a couple of times on the way down the hill, no bones broken though - that really would be embarrassing.

Maybe I should have gone with the train + taxi option.

Saturday, and I set out beneath cloudy skies, but it isn't actually snowing, maybe I can get to France today?  Or maybe not, I've stupidly left my wallet in the hotel so have to ski back down to get it.  Well, I still manage a decent day on the slopes, around the San Sicario area.  Interesting to see remnants of the 2006 Winter Olympics here, the bobsled track among other things.  All looking a bit forlorn and abandoned just eight years later mind.  Of course the weather doesn't hold, and I make my way back towards Sauze through more heavy snow.  I'm planning on some top Italian food tonight, after a fairly uninspiring dinner at the hotel last night.  Getting into town though it seems much of Turin has decamped to the Alps and every restaurant is packed - I end up with one of those 'selection of pizza slices' places.  And it is the best reheated pizza slice ever.  Better still is live music from the rather awesome Black Rose at Il Lampione.

Blue sky over Monte Fraiteve.

My last day in Italy, and a tiny problem in that there is so much snow on the road that I cannot get the car up the hill away from the hotel.  The nice people there let me leave my car behind and go skiing, assuring me that the roads will improve as long as it doesn't snow.  Of course, the moment I step back outside the white stuff starts falling again... I'm feeling a little bit down as I take the lift up, looking at a day of horrid skiing conditions and then who knows what problems getting back to Turin.  Then as I get towards the top of Monte Fraiteve, the high point above Sauze leading over to the next valley, I suddenly emerge from the clouds and see blue sky.  Time to stop worrying about the car then, and indeed I have a fine day of skiing, even crossing the border into France - funny, I have crossed international borders on skis a few times now, but never on foot.  A slight pity that when I get to France my lift pass doesn't work, turns out I should have bought an international one.  Easy enough to turn around and ski back though, and thankfully on my return to the village the roads are pretty much clear of snow.  Good thing as I still have a bit of trouble finding my way back to the airport... not to mention the fantastically annoying Italian fuel stations.

At the French border.

So, what's my verdict on Sauze d'Oulx?  Pretty positive really, there's a lot of good skiing here and it is a nice little village with a decent apres-ski scene.  I don't think I'd recommend the place to a novice, unless you fancy taking the chairlift back down, but if you're happy with lots of long reds and a few blacks then it's all good.  Cheap as chips also, in particular flying to Turin costs a lot less than, say, Geneva.  I think I picked an excellent hotel too, I would go back - although I'd be sure to bring some suitable boots for climbing up that hill to the centre.  Right then, where am I off to next?  Ah yes, Slovenia again next month :)

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Sauze d'Oulx, Part 1

It is winter once again, time for skiing then.  I did go to Morzine on the coach again last month, nothing really new to write about there though.  Now I am off to Sauze d'Oulx in the Italian Alps for a few days, I've never been here before so it should be interesting.  Hopefully a little easier to get to than Morzine as well... after a night at the Holiday Inn, Stansted (surprisingly decent food) I get an early flight to Turin, pick up my hire car and head out onto the Autostrada.  Navigating through Italy is a little tricky, I miss one turn and end up in Turin rather than heading towards the Alps, but still I get to Sauze easily enough.  Turns out to not be the best place to drive about - it is essentially built on the side of a mountain, so there is a maze of very steep cobbled streets covered with snow, which my front wheel drive fiesta doesn't enjoy much.  It all adds to the fun of locating the ski hire shop, and then my hotel right back at the bottom of the village.

The scenic Via Lattea.

Still, I am on the slopes by 2pm, and it is certainly nice to be able to ski straight from the Hotel Edelweiss down to the Jouvenceau lift - which is very long indeed, that seems to be a feature here, long lifts and long runs as well, for instance the Gran Pista which leads back to the hotel is fully two and a half kilometres.  Seems to be mostly reds too, probably not the best resort for beginners.  I have fun though, the weather is good and there is an awful lot of snow.  Rather miss my boots though - I only took hand luggage to avoid delay at the airport and Ryanair charges, the hire ones do not feel very comfortable.  Back to the hotel for a beer or two, plus some freshly baked snacks which proves to be a daily thing - very convivial.

Taking a breather.

Of course I have to check out the night-life of Sauze d'Oulx (pronounced something like 'Sohzy Doo' it seems) - sadly this does mean a fifteen minute slog up the slippery hill from the hotel.  Apparently Sauze has a reputation as the 'Magaluf of the Alps', can't say there is much sign of this on a Thursday night, the first few bars I look into are pretty empty, though I at least manage to get a decent pizza.  Eventually I find the party at Enoteca Il Lampione, where there is beer and live music.  Still not convinced it is much like Magaluf, not that I would know.

Sauze as seen from the Gran Pista.

Friday morning and time for a full day of skiing - unfortunately the weather has turned for the worse, there is a lot of snow coming down.  Not only is visibility very poor, but in fact there is so much powder that I'm finding it hard work to ski.  Still, maybe if I move to a different valley - Sauze is part of a large ski area, the Via Lattea - 'Milky Way' - which is comparable to Portes du Soleil in size, indeed you can ski into France - maybe tomorrow.  For now I head towards Sestriere in the hope of finding better weather there.  No such luck though... and worse is to come as I try to ski down into the village.  If the weather hadn't been so grim I'd have checked my map, and noticed that you can't ski all the way down.  I follow a sign labelled Sestriere but the piste dwindles away to nothing with the village still below, OK, following some tracks takes me through some hairy off-piste action and I at least get to a road.  But it is level, and perpendicular to the gondola cables that stretch off into the fog below me, so, I push along in the hope that the road will turn downhill and I'll be able to ski down it - sure is enough snow.  Sadly, while it does start to slope downwards, it also turns away from the village and slowly turns into more of a bridleway than a road.  Eventually I find myself at the edge of some woods with no real idea of where to go...

Photos to go with this post can be found here.