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Bogger's Delirium Tour
Early November 2024
By Bogger
Ping. WhatsApp message From Black Country Pete. "Do you fancy a couple of days on the beer in Ypres, Belgium?" "Yes, get it booked lad."
He came back with the dates and being a big boy now, I booked the ferry and Pete booked the accommodation. Mrs Bogger was informed of said jaunt and all was well. All was well until the next day when Mrs Bogger asked for the dates. She consulted her diary and at a greater than normal volume (it’s always loud anyway) she berated me, as the days I had booked away coincided with a posh wedding we were having to attend.
After the usual "what would you do without me", "do I have to do everything", "why have I always got to be behind you" type conversation I messaged Pete reference the dates I could make. He contacted the campsite and said he had managed to re-arrange the dates at no extra cost. Excellent.
Mrs Bogger now got on to the ferry website (I was barred from taking part) to sort out the new crossing dates and times. Oh FFS a rebooking fee of £40.00. I messaged Pete and said I’d pay his extra charges as well. Here’s to the now most expensive Channel crossing in the world ever. Ah well, it’s only money.
With that minor debacle out of the way and only a couple of weeks until we go, what bike shall I go on? Pete’s got a new Honda ADV350 Scooter. I could go on my Honda Mode125 or the Honda C125 Super Cub. The 1200cc BMW is MOT’d but not taxed. I know - I’ll go on my free, as in nil purchase cost, Yamaha 250 Majesty Scooter. It’s got a dubious past and is only 28yrs old. What could possibly go wrong?
No problem I’ll get breakdown insurance. Breakdown insurance... £175.00... AAAAARRRRH MUCH!! Forget it, what could possibly go wrong?
At this stage can I just clarify the statement "a couple of days on the beer." What this basically means is a couple of days jaunt on a bike, relaxing in a foreign country, having a couple of drinks if it takes our fancy, which we were sure it would. It is not a p*** up. No - really!
As an aside, I decided to retire from work some eleven months previous. From day one I never missed work at all and was enjoying pleasing myself as to what to do and when to do it. Happy days.
Happy days, until eight days prior to departure. I’d not spoken to anyone from work since the day I left. My phone pinged a missed call. Boss man from work! What’s he ringing for? I rang him back. After the usual niceties, he got down the nitty gritty. Err we’re in the poop. I’ve got some health issues that will take a couple of months to resolve, my lads wife has had a premature baby by C section and the bloke that took over from you was poop and he’s gone. Can you come back and run the place to help us out?
Being a lovely bloke I said yes, on the understanding that my trip was NOT being cancelled. He said anything would be a
massive help. It’s only for a couple of weeks. They’ve asked me to stay until Christmas now, so I can train up the new me.
Back to the trip. Of course we had booked the daft o-clock ferry from Dover to Calais, for the Tuesday morning at 9.10am. On the Monday afternoon, after a morning at work, I trundled down the M6 to Dudley and Pete's abode.
After a quiet night out in Dudley it was early to bed, ready for a very early start in the morning. We were awake at 2am and away by 3am. It was cold but thankfully not raining. Pete's ADV GS wannabe was togged out with one of them skirt type things. The skirts definitely keep you warmer and drier. I had all the gear on including my waterproofs to keep out the wind blast. Pete had boots, jeans and his bike jacket on along with gloves. Pete, are you sure you’re going to be warm enough? He patted the skirt then his heated grips and with a smug grin on his face spoke Dudley and said Woaar Beeyowtiful.
All was Beeyowtiful until we filled up at Beaconsfield services, where we had to stay and have breakfast for an hour whilst he thawed out FFS. Best get a shift on lad. Fuelling at Beaconsfield allowed us to get to Dover in one hit. When we reached Dover it was throwing it down. We topped the tanks back up and headed for the ferry terminal which was only half a mile down the road.
We weren’t late but we did cut it a bit fine, the time being 8.30am. As we made our way to the waiting lines I realised how quiet the Port was in comparison to summer. In fact we were the only motorbikes there.
Once aboard we headed for the Restaurant, where Pete set about his second full breakfast of the day. As we manoeuvre out of Dover Harbour we can see that the sea looks a bit rough. Ten minutes into the crossing I’m feeling a bit queasy as the Ferry is pitching, rolling and shuddering its way across the Channel. I was very relieved when we Reached Calais and
could not wait to reach Terra Firma.
As we sit on the Scooters waiting for the departure ramp to go down I ask Pete where his Sat Nav is? It’s packed away. We’ve been to Ypres loads of times, we should know where it is? Four miles down the road he pulls over. I’m not quite sure which way to go, but I think we need to head for Lille. We turn off onto the Motorway and a couple of miles down the road we’re behind a truck doing fifty miles an hour. Pete resolutely refuses to overtake this truck even though the Motorway was fairly quiet.
Mile after mile behind this b****y truck FFS. Ypres is only sixty miles from Calais, it seemed like one hundred and sixty. The signs for Ypres show up and along with the truck, we pull off the Motorway. We stop at a junction and before I can say anything Pete chirps up "I’m following this truck because the logo on the side is a company based in Ypres so I’m following it to get to Ypres." I could see his logic and I was just glad they didn’t have another depot in Dusseldorf.
We were soon at the campsite around 2.15pm and our accommodation for the next three nights was one of those glamping pod type sheds. It was pretty basic but had bedding and a heater. We’d bought our own stoves with us. After sorting out our gear and a quick shower it was time to walk to town to have a mooch about. Luckily this side of the Channel was dry if a little on the cool side.
We called in for a quick drink at the Hotel Regina and then decided to find a bar we’d not been in before. We found ourselves in Bar De Afsprak down a side street off the main square. Bar De Afsprak was very cosy and full of locals. It had a nice ambience about it. We’d had nothing to eat since our two breakfasts and in the bar we noticed the locals eating cured sausages. In for a penny as they say and soon enough we were swilling sausages down with Jupiler and Leffe beer. We then went all cosmopolitan and ordered a Croque Monsieur and Frittes. My god we’re practically locals now! After a couple of more drinks it was time to amble back to the campsite and bed.
Once inside I said to Pete "get a drink of water so you don’t de-hydrate in the night." He had a few sips then put the cup of water into the fridge for later. In the night he woke up thirsty and in the dark got his water out of the fridge, tipped the cup up only for a cup shaped block of ice to hit the floor, pillock.
In the morning we got some supplies from the local Aldi and rustled up our now obligatory lardons and Camembert baguette, along with coffee. What to do today Pete? We decided upon the ‘Flanders Fields Museum’ in Ypres itself.
We’ve been to this museum some twelve years ago and it’s completely changed inside. There are a lot more video and interactive type displays which really help the experience. It’s well worth a visit.
There was one particular interactive type display which to me really bought home the utter madness of it all. On a large horizontal flat screen in front of you was an aerial view of the modern day Ypres. On top of this you could overlay an aerial view from 1914, then one from 1916 and finally one from 1918. On the first overlay it was Hmm there’s quite a bit of damage to Ypres. The 1916 overlay it was wow it’s really bad now. Finally when you swiped on the 1918 screen I literally exclaimed **** me! There was not a building standing whatsoever and any remnants that were left were about three feet high maximum. Complete devastation.
Then you walk outside and it’s beautiful.
After the museum we wandered back to the campsite past the ‘Wipers Times’ location (Google it) which is now a small brewery. On through the casement wall and over the bridge. We knocked up a quick beef curry then it was time for a quick nap. We are on holiday after all!
That evening was another walk into town to our now favourite bar. More sausages were consumed and Pete hit the Delirium beer. Not to worry it’s only nine percent. Personally it’s too strong for me I carried on with the Bockor and Jupiler beers. The Delirium beers fluorescent pink sign is brilliant. Time for bed.
Four o’clock in the morning I’m awoken by the fire alarm going off in our cabin. Not only is our fire alarm going off, but ALL the campsite alarms are going off. The folks in their motorhomes are starting to open their doors to see what’s going on. The campsite is awash with noise and light. Thirty seconds later all is calm. All calm apart from our cabin as I’m giving Pete a right b*********. Personally I don’t think he’ll be vaping anytime soon.
Today we’re off to Tyne Cot cemetery. Beforehand there’s breakfast to contend with and I was shocked at the state of Pete's biking boots. I got my shoe polish travel kit out (surely everyone carries one of these? Don’t they?) and set about them. The weather was a bit grim so we waited for the rain to subside before we set out on the scooters.
The roads were covered in rain and mud and we waddled along at a leisurely pace. It’s not far from the campsite to the cemetery. However after about ten miles I ask "are you sure we’re on the right road?" I don’t seem to remember it being this far. Put your sat nav on Pete. I can’t, why not? It’s flat, well put it on the cradle and it’ll charge. It won’t, it’s broke. I know lets follow a truck with Tyne Cot cemetery written on it. FFS.
We retraced our steps and eventually ended up at the correct location.
As you wander around the cemetery and you’re reading all the names on the graves or memorial walls I find it really difficult to comprehend. They’re "just" names that you’re looking at and because there are literally thousands of them they don’t really mean anything directly. Now don’t get me wrong here, I know what these men did and what they went through and what it means. I think it’s the scale of it that’s a bit overpowering/numbing.
Once again you look at the surrounding countryside and it’s lovely. Even though the day before we’d been in the museum and seen what it was like from 1914 to 1918. Basically obliterated. It’s hard to reconcile the past from the present. You understand it all, but also understand nothing.
After an hour or so it’s time to head back to base. On the short ride back we must have passed signposts for at least another six cemeteries. This was our last night in Ypres and yes, some more Delirium beer was consumed. Not too much mind as we had an early start the next day. We were catching the midday ferry.
In the morning the weather was dull and overcast. We both opted for waterproofs which turned out to be a good idea. Half an hour into the journey back to Calais the heavens opened. We re-fuelled just a mile from the Port. We’d made good time and we caught the earlier 11.00am ferry which was a bonus. Again we were the only bikes at the Port. The sea was almost a flat calm on the way back, thank goodness.
It was now just the long hard slog back home now. With catching the earlier ferry, it meant we missed the worst of the traffic on the M25. The weather was dry all the way home and the Mighty Majesty only needed one refill to get me home at 6.30pm.
So the Mighty Majesty 250 got me there and back without batting an eye. Pah, who needs breakdown insurance? Our speeds were mainly between 65-70mph. The Majesty 250 did not disgrace itself against the new Forza 350 and returned on average 73mph. For me the two days there and back were 365ml for each day. Here’s to the next one.
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Reader's Comments
Upt'North ¹ said :-
Riding to Belgium in November!
You're very hardy Bogg'ster, or plain nuts?
Your point on the war graves is succinct my little nutty mucka. Or hardy?
We have ridden past lots over the years and stopped at a few. Whilst you can comprehend the enormity of it it's not personal.....until it is.
I found out I'd got two great uncles over there, one at Newfoundland Park and another at Ploegsteert. We visited the grave of one and the memorial to the other on a ride down to the Dolomites. The sense of loss and grief was enormous, it was though I was burying a sibling or a parent, I never expected it and still can't explain it. I never knew these men, they were just names that appeared from research.
I hope you finally warmed up and enjoy retirement, it's underrated.
Upt.
30/01/2025 15:11:31 UTC
Ian Soady¹ said :-
Nuts was the thought I had. And a quiet night out in Dudley? Really?
30/01/2025 15:26:12 UTC
Ren - The Ed¹ said :-
While we have these graveyards and museums to remind us of the horrors of war Bogger and Upt' are quite right - they are numbers and facts. I find myself feeling the same about museums of any kind. I find it much more "real" and heart wrenching to learn about an individual. What they did before the war, the life they lead, the people they loved, the things they enjoyed and so on. To then learn of their death and what it meant to a partner, a child, a friend etc.
Each and every grave had a full story, a life and meaning. Yet to see hundreds if not thousands makes it almost meaningless.
Put ya thermals on Upt', you'll be fine.
30/01/2025 17:02:27 UTC
Upt'North ¹ said :-
Brrrrrrrr, just the thought of it, Brrrrrrrr.
To think I used to ride all through the winters?
Brrrrrrrr.
If it isn't 60f's I'm not coming out on a motorsiccle.
Did I say, Brrrrrrrr.
30/01/2025 17:29:23 UTC
Bogger said :-
One of the gravestones I looked at, the officer had been awarded the Victoria Cross. I took an image and then googled him when I got home.
Just a normal bloke who was very brave, It sort of put it into perspective.
A few years back I visited Mrs Boggers Grandfathers grave in Ryes War Cemetery France. Just inland from the D Day landing beaches.
I was fine until I saw the grave and read the headstone. I couldn't stop crying it was awful.
Bogger
30/01/2025 21:07:13 UTC
Ren - The Ed¹ said :-
I think it's worthwhile to watch TV documentaries about Verdun and The Battle Of The Bulge etc etc etc, I also think there'd be merit as Bogger did - for a TV show to take just one or two random gravestones and do a deep dive into those individuals.
I know my mum's dad was a stretcher bearer during WW1 and mum said he never really talked about it. I can only imagine the horrors he must have seen.
31/01/2025 07:58:26 UTC
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