Grey clouds to Kortrijk

Deinze to Kortrijk

30 km

2 locks

1 lift/swing bridges

5 hours

For most of the three days spent in Deinze, we’d been catching up on DIY jobs around the boat, as the hardware store was only a short cycle ride away.

Deinze is a large, litter free, affluent town with modern shop fronts and an olde-worldy church that chimed every half hour. Like other towns and villages in Belgium, the cyclist comes first with off road cycle routes on almost every street and plenty of places to leave them while getting on with the daily routine.

The bikes themselves come in all shapes and sizes with practicality being the order of the day. They try to use their bikes in every way possible rather than using the car, you see mothers with pram contraptions built in to the front framework (see pics) and old men laden down with carts attached. It’s like cycle heaven with everyone much healthier for it.

The last morning in Deinze we awoke to a Manchester sky, grey and insipid. Just before we left I nipped out to buy a loaf from the local patisserie. As I was paying, an English 5p coin rolled on to the counter, “you can have that if you like” I said “No thank you, I’ve no intentions of going to England, the food’s rubbish” she said.

I was a little taken aback by this, because as it turned out she’d never been to England. So based her opinions on hearsay. Every country has its share of good or bad restaurants and takeaways. One night in Ghent, for example, we were looking through a take away window at fresh salad and skewers of chicken and what looked like lamb. “It’s horse” the lady serving us pointed out unashamedly. Now I don’t know about you, but anything that could run the three o’clock at Aintree just doesn’t appeal hoofed or not, so we went for the chicken.

Instead of being cooked on a flame grill, it was tossed into a deep fat fryer and served in a small plastic tray with lashings of salty chicken seasoning. No salad, nan or even so much as a pitta, a meal we found inedible due to the fact that the seasoning was stuck to the fat and would not wipe off. As bad as the meal was, we can say we did try it.

Now, I would be the first to say that if you dined in England it can be hit and miss, but come on, full English breakfasts, fish and chips, Sunday roasts and not to mention our national dish, curry. If you’re going to criticise English cuisine at least have the decency to try it first.

It was 12pm when we left for Kortrijk and due to steep banks either side of the canal, there was nothing much to see.

Our entertainment was five hours of rain and a couple who did everything arse upwards. You could hear them screaming at one another, albeit in French, when in the locks, usually side on (see pic), holding up everyone including the commercial traffic.

The peniche skippers would be stood on their deck impatiently waiting, red faced with arms folded. When the couple emerged they gave everyone big smiles and waves and the raging fires of the skippers were doused. As Wendy, my late mother-in-law always said, a smile and a wave goes a long way.

Bless em’ it’s all part of the boating experience you know. If you’re not prepared to air your frustrations at one another’s handling of the boat, at least once in public, don’t buy one.

At around 4:30pm we arrived in Kortrijk and the rain had just stopped. As we entered one, of a possible three arms, ours lead to a dead end. Initially, we felt we had made the wrong choice as the staging was wall to wall with boats but everyone was so obliging and shuffled their boats up for us to fit in.

Moorings in Kortrijk

Cost: 8 euros per night.

Facilities: Electricity and water – free

Location: Right in the city centre, the Broel Towers could be seen from the side-hatch.  Many very nice restaurants (pricey) a short walk away and two large supermarkets very nearby.  Laundrette also five minutes walk away. 

Broel Towers

View from our mooring

Kortrijk town square