Phill Jackson Kawasaki GPZ900R & Sidecar 333 miles (530km) @ 37 m.p.g. (13 km/L) Autoroute speed ~ 80 m.p.h. (~130 km/hr) Federation Of Sidecar Clubs Motor & Toer - Vrienden Oostende

Having been a bit down in the dumps what with the near perpetual darkness of winter and the nuisances of work, I rummaged through the Fed's trip guide and noticed the Belgian club MTVO were having the "International Sidecar Rally" and I had a free weekend. Belgium sounds like a long way to go to camp in the cold, but Google Maps claimed it was only 150 miles and I had a Eurotunnel voucher to use before May, so I thought why not? With my Aprillia 650 mounted neighbour, Steve, interested and my ex-housemate, Emma, seemingly convinced I phoned to redeem my £60 voucher. Big problem, the very polite young lady on the phone asked if I had a sidecar attached which bumped the ticket price up to a whopping £120! I've travelled by sidecar before on the Eurotunnel and that's never been asked, and although I could've booked a ferry the time and hassle savings on the train make a big difference to a short trip, especially when I can't leave work before 4.30pm, then have to go home and then fight the weekend London exodus. Checking the website revealed there was only a trailer option for motorcycles, nothing about sidecars, and it certainly isn't a trailer, so I booked online and will have to use the voucher some other time (and hope the policy hasn't changed when I get there!).

By Wednesday Steve had sent his passport off to get a visa, so opted out, then Emma decided it might be too cold so bailed out as well! Well I'd paid for the ticket now, so no backing out. By the time I'd been delayed by work and got everything together it was 7pm when my other housemate decided to come. 30 mins later they'd changed their mind! This was getting silly, but at least the London traffic had cleared a little and the cold air helped stop my outfit overheating. Cruising along the M20 at about 80 I made the 70 miles to Folkstone in under 2 hours. At the check-in desk the nice lady let me take the later train even though I'd missed mine by about an hour, but then noticed the tub and scowled. "You haven't booked a sidecar ticket" she said, "sorry, there's no sidecar option on the website, only trailer" I replied. After phoning her supervisor she asked "can it take passengers" to which I grinned and said "there's no-one in the box" and she relented and let me through! It's probably not worth making a fuss about in case they add a "+ sidecar" option to the website, but as big as it is my outfit doesn't take up anywhere near as much room as an estate car and it's not like motorcycles park side by side on the train anyway! Both the Dover-Calais and Portmouth-Bilbao ferries have let me on for the price of a solo-bike, the best policy seems to be book on the web and generally the person in the booth will have hardly any clue there could be a problem and generally care even less.

I met a nice couple on the train with their children off skiing for a week, and although they seemed a little embarrassed when they found out I was a teacher, their enthusiasm for my combination and journey made me realise that I was on an adventure. With a donation of Christmas cake to keep my strength up in the cold I roared off onto the autoroute only to find it was drizzling with rain. The narrower dual carriageway nature of the unlit French autoroutes combined with the greasy surface, odd exits, signage and unexpected corners made me grip the throttle a little less and the respect UK motorways a little more (although they are still boring!). Luckily the rain passed quickly, but the temperature kept dropping down to about 1 or 2 degrees. I had 2 t-shirts, a heated waistcoat, 2 hoodies, my bike jacket and a body-warmer on top, as well as thermal trousers, trousers and padded over-trousers but the journey was long enough to start really chilling me. Finding the place was surprisingly easy with some Google Maps printouts, despite the Belgian residential streets seeming to have no name plates, and I made the 50 miles from Calais to the sports-ground in about 1 hour. It was now midnight our time, 1 am Belgian time and the entire Journey had taken about 4 hours. The party was still in full flow judging by the sounds form the big tent so I pitched my excellent Quechua 2 second tent, inflated the airbed, dumped all the bike gear in the sidecar and headed for a beer & hopefully warmth!

Going places on your own is always awkward, perhaps because you have to make an effort and interact and have long periods of just standing around people watching. However, it only took me about 10 mins to be (gently but forcibly) introduced to some of the local club after I totally flouted the bar ordering system and then tried to pay with euros rather than beer vouchers. Problems were compounded when it turned out that this was Flemmish Belgium and my pathetic attempts at French were going to be a bit useless. For my incompetence I was awarded with several free bieres and asked where the rest of the British Club were! After buying some vouchers (€10 for 8 half pint sized beers), talking with a few friendly people and checking out some of the sidecars parked outside I crashed out at about 3am but the music was still playing. It was pretty cold, but the advantage of an outfit is the amount of bedding you can bring and I was fine even though there was frost everywhere in the morning.

Saturday I surfaced at about 11am and went in search of breakfast which was acquired again using the funky vouchers. Loads more outfits arrived as the sun warmed things up and it became a nice, warmish day. Bang on 2pm the ride-out began which was really well attended by about 30 outfits and 6 or 7 solo bikes acting as marshals. Riding in a convoy of left hand drive rigs around the smaller country lanes was interesting as I found all the left hand corners harder and then had no chance to fly through the easier right hand ones as they crawled through!  The marshals were great and blocked off all the traffic lights and junctions so we rode for about 30 miles around interesting scenery and villages without every having to stop! Stopping at a cafe for a swift half and a pack of "paprika chips" I took the opportunity to take some pictures and oil my chain. The disadvantage of not knowing anybody and not speaking their language becomes quite obvious at times like this! 

Fortuitously I had about 5L of petrol in a gerrycan, because we hadn't passed a petrol station and I wouldn't have made the return journey!  Back at the campsite I met the people in the tents near mine Vincent & Shaun (Honda CB750/Velorex & SV650 Suzuki) and Alain & friend (Honda CX500/Velorex) and dug out some cans of carlsberg as an introduction. It turned out that I'd camped in the right place because I tagged along with these guys for the rest of the evening - thanks! At some point either the axle or spokes had broken on Vincent's sidecar wheel, so he'd welded the hub from an old Opal and lashed on a massive car wheel! Although there were many beautiful machines there, and even a custom-made BMW with 2-wheel-drive, it was the 80's bikes with ingenious attachments and bodges that interested me most. The evening was spent eating some kind of mash & ham mixture, using many more beer tickets and watching the band, but mostly the bass player. It was a good evening, but Friday was the hardcore party night and Saturday only half as busy. As I ambled off in the darkness I blathered "amazingly fluent" French to some friends who'd just arrived with a beautiful Guzzi LeMans outfit and tried to avoid all the little dogs that had also come to the treffen and were chasing each other. Once back at the tent I discovered that the airbed had popped and there was ice on the flysheet, in the morning there would be icy frost inside as well!

Slightly chilled I got up around 10am to find almost everyone packed away and the main tent dismantled! I'd missed breakfast, so made do with a cup of tea and a tin of hot rice-pudding using my Coleman petrol stove (highly recommended) and quickly said goodbye and took some contact details. Not wanting to risk any more wear and tear on the sidecar wheel Vincent shot off on just the two on the bike, flying the chair for a long time down the road! The MTVO club president came to wish me well and invite me to the Ardenner Treffen with their club on the 3-5th Feb as well as offing accommodation the night before if I wanted to ride down with them on the Friday! I don't think I can make it this year, but I did promise to see if I could convince any of the Fed members to head to their rally next year - any takers?

I opted for the slower coast road back through Belgium so I could actually see some places and it was pretty nice to be bimbling along in the sunshine rather than fighting my way along the autoroute. Arriving early (a first!) at the French Eurotunnel terminal I was a little worried they would argue about my ticket, but nobody batted an eyelid. Everything was going smoothly until I asked the Immigration-Service Officer who was accompanying the Eurotunnel Clerk "what are those big yellow panels that I passed through?" and was scowled at for the second time in the weekend by an English woman and sent to have my vehicle inspected! After some very strange questions presumably to test my reactions or something I was sent on my way and joined the M20 for the last boring slog home and was back by 5pm. Weekend winter camping in Belgium - well worth it!