Wednesday 7th September 1983
Continental breakfast was quite nice. Cheese sarnie and bread with chocolate spread and tea. We set of with a sad farewell to our cycling chum! And made good time to Levven (the best town so far), where we had a break for coffee. The weather is still bright and sunny, though a little colder. The roads are becoming a little more interesting. We are now in Namur. We refilled with petrol at about 120 miles since the last time, and the cost was the same as yesterday.
We set off again and for once easily found our way on the road to Bastogne. We roared along merrily until on one steep hill Georges bike packed up. He trundled slowly to a halt and I reversed to see what was amiss. The fuse had blown, and when replaced, that too immediately blew. A third fuse met the same fate and our spirits plummeted. The warm weather and blue skies mocked us as we pushed the bikes on to what was advertised as “Services” 1 kilometre up the road. We were greeted with a closed petrol station and a café on the other side of the road. We mulled over our options over a coffee, aided by an extremely helpful serving wench who replied “no” to all of our questions. I went into the nearest town, Ciney, to see if help was available while George fiddled with his bike. When I got back George tried his last remaining fuse and it held.
We headed for our nearest hostel, which would have taken us well off of our route, so we decided eventually to push on for Bastogne. The bikes went like a dream and, after a stop to look at the tanks and World War 2 relics in the town (Bastogne), we pushed on into Luxembourg and the Youth Hostel at Lultzhausen. The scenery is superb. We followed a deep river valley surrounded by pine forested slopes, the sky blue above. Our spirits lifted. We were now aware that our bikes were not infallible and at the drop of a hat our trusty steeds could become an inert metal burden. 134 miles covered today. Bike mileometer reads 14,030 miles.
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