A Tight Fit.
   
Getting 10 cyclists, their bikes, kit and luggage into 2
small and 1 medium car for the drive to the ferry at
Hull was no mean feat, especially as John Clayton
decided to take 2 large samples of plasterwork tiles
to a client in Belgium on the same trip. With the rest
of us only too eager to forget work  for a few days,
John was showing exemplary devotion to duty.
 
After a mix-up over tickets when we checked in,
we were soon established in our cabins and then
into the bar, for a quick drink before the buffet
evening dinner, another visit to the bar with live
cabaret and a good nights sleep.

6:30 Saturday morning we were woken by the ferry
tannoy, inviting us to breakfast before disembarking
at Zeebrugge Once out of the port

Soon we joined the 25,000 Sportive participants (some of
them doing the full TOF route) and headed for the fabled
cobbled climbs.

It soon became evident that cycling is King in Belgian,
as all roads, including major traffic routes were held
up by police and marshals to let us pass. As we
progressed , we mingled with a multi national, seemingly
never ending peleton along the long flat section were
Roger Hammond was to come to grief the following day.
The route here was festooned with abandoned, punctured
tubes and there were lots of unfortunates, fixing punctures
in the rain.

We were all still together, more or less, as we turned
South and the big ridge marking the beginning of the
climbs appeared ahead. The rain stopped and the sun
came out.

We were approaching our first climb, The Old Kwaremont.
Steve Burton had told me that it wasn't much, but went on 
a bit and was, off course, cobbled, 'nothing to worry about'.
As the road began to climb, we hit our first pave. What a
shock. It was as if someone had grabbed my seat pin to
hold me back. I got out of the saddle on the fairly innocuous
early gradient and found that my back wheel decided to twitch
sideways alarmingly, causing me to sit down quickly. Steve
Talland smiled and said it's best to climb in the saddle.

The gaps between the blocks of pave were larger than I'd
expected; about the width of a wheel. I found myself trying
to avoid going directly into these, but soon realised that you
had to ignore them and peddle as big a gear as you could
manage and try and accept the severe vibrations.

Incredibly, large crowds, lined the barriers at the roadsides
on the Old Kwaremont, (and all the subsequent Murs) urging
us on. At the top, we regrouped and continued. One or two of
us were pinching ourselves as we rode with strings of riders
along roads familiar to us from watching the race on
Eurosport with the sound of David Duffield's commentaries
in our heads. Hugely enjoyable cycling this.

Some of the climbs were very difficult to beat because of
their steepness, the greasy pave and congestion caused
by walking cyclists. All this didn't deter John Clayton who
attacked a particularly steep, short climb by changing up
into the big ring at the bottom, which impressed, low country
veteran Stewart Bowering,

Stewart B, Ian Steeper, Stuart Fletcher and Steve Burton
decided to plug away over a few more climbs as the rest
went in search of food and Belgian beer, before heading
back to Oodenaarde, a coffee in the, now sunlit, attractive
square. Back at the hotel there was much laughter caused
by the quirky design of the showers and then a magnificent 
feast, of Rump Steak, organised by the personable hotel
owner, which more than satisfied the hungriest cyclist's
hunger.

Sleep came easy , but dreams of out sprinting Tom Boonen
to the adulation of the crowds were interrupted for some by
mysterious noisy grunting and groaning coming from an
adjacent room to the accompaniment of the sound of
bedsprings under duress.

After an enormous breakfast, we were soon in the rain
again watching the signing on and interviews before the
Women's race in Oodenarde Square.

Good Calder knowledge of the Geography of the race
came into play as we criss crossed the race route to
watch both the women and men crest bergs and negotiate
severe cobbled sections. The atmosphere was electric.
After watching the girls climb the LogoMur, Nicole Cooke
amongst the leaders, but looking a little uncomfortable.

Chaos ensued as cars, buses, pedestrian, motorcyclists
and cyclists completely blocked a-roads, all of us intent
on going in different directions for our next view of the
race. As frantic as the rest of us were the police, who
made no attempt to control anything, but were as intent
as the rest of us to get to the next viewpoint. To the
Belgians this was a hugely enjoyable experience, The
chaos just part of it, with many dressed up for the
occasion - Someone spotted an Eddy Mercyk look-alike
complete with 1970s Molteni kit and several tandems were
seen, ridden by portly, slightly inebriated gents who doffed
their Bowler hats at us.

After seeing the races go by several times, some of our
group opted to find a pub with big screen where they could
enjoy lunch, some Belgian beer, soak up the atmosphere
and enjoy the race. We were just tucking into the food when
Roger Hammond flew out the side of the peleton and landed
on some nasty concrete pyramids we'd ridden past the day
before.

Those not staying to watch the big screen dashed to other
viewpoints as the men's race moved into the finale with
Boonen in control attacking as George Hincapie sat
impotently in the small remaining bunch and watched
his Belgian teammate Leif Hoste cover Boonen's move.

After the race moved in a straight line towards the
Bosberg and the finish, our group moved into a pub to
watch the race on TV. Stewart Bowering translated for
us as a Belgian fan kept pointing out aspects of the
race to us. Suddenly the TV screen left the action to
focus on a middle aged ordinary looking man in an
overcoat and his wife. The pub immediately erupted
with anger with shouted demands to get the couple off
the screen and put the Tour of Flanders back on. The
Belgian chap turned and told us it was the King of
Belgium, Albert II and his wife, Princess Paola Ruffo
di Calabria. There were cheers as Boonen and Hoste
filled the screen again. Shortly afterwards, the TV was
focusing on another man of about 60, but this time the
pub was filled with cheering. It was Eddie Mercyk.

Boonen won the men's race and we learned that Nicole
had finished 6th in the Women's race with Holland's
Mirjam Melchers-Van Poppel winning.

We rode back to the pub with the big screen to
rendezvous with the rest of the Calder group to
find they'd already headed back to our hotel.
A drunk Belgian came out of the pub and on
discovering that we were English proceeded
to tease us as we prepared to head down the
hill from the pub. He said "everything's downhill
for you English".