Introduction
After a 20 year gap, this was my 3rd visit to the splendid Belgian town of Ypres. I am acutely aware that my poor attempt at a pun for a title also refers to the third battle of Ypres at Passchendaele in 1917. In an already horrific war, this battle resonates, with many people, as a spectacular and vivid illustration of the senseless slaughter of men. I mean absolutely no offence, and hold the utmost respect for anyone connected with that period of history.
The trip was suggested by Alex back in November and I jumped on the bandwagon immediately, even though 2 of the other travellers were people I had never met. Alex vouched for them and that was enough for me.
Fast forward to the day before the crossing into France and the first of my 1100 miles in a car begins. The plan is to travel to Kent for an overnight stay at Alex's house before setting off at 05:30 on Saturday morning. As it is a Friday, Britain's motorways, specifically M6 and M25, do what they do best and piss me off enormously. After around 9 hours of travelling (including rest stops) I roll up at the first RV, and immediately break in to the first beer of the evening.
General catch up chatter ensues before the 3rd of the gang of four arrives. Matt has been on a work course all week and has to make a few stops from there to us and also experiences all the joys that the M25 has to offer.
We continue chit chat, including some 'getting to know you' conversation, feast on some fine chilli con carne and empty a few more beer cans before heading to bed at around 22:30 in readiness for tomorrow's early start. Ed, the 4th member of the crew will join us in the morning.
Memorials to The Missing
Everyone is up in a timely manner, all ablutions are complete, Ed's arrival and bags loaded into the back of the car before a departure just 2 minutes later than planned. We are not crossing until 07:20 so there is no rush and, as it is so early on a Saturday morning, we are at Le Tunnel terminal in Folkestone in no time at all. Benefit of this is that there is time for breakfast and a brew. I go for a sausage and egg bap and a cup of tea, which sets me back £9.50!!! I should have insisted on a McStop!
The tunnel crossing (as it always is from my experience) is quick and trouble free and we soon arrive in Calais. Although the main destination is Ypres, a detour is planned to the Somme, specifically the Memorials to the Missing at Thiepval and Pozières. Matt has discovered, the last year, that 2 of his relatives (both brothers fought in the area during WW1and their names recorded. It is only right that we make this small deviation to the plan. Matt has researched prior to the trip and found that they were killed just a few miles apart but with 2 years between them.
The first stop is at Thiepval, which sites an incredible monument. It is absolutely huge with swathes of wall space containing the names of fallen soldiers whose bodies could not be found. There are over 72,000 names on this memorial alone, with 14,655 on the Pozières memorial wall. At Menin Gate, where we will visit later in the day, there are over 55,000 and at Tyne Cot cemetery, where will not visit on this trip, contains a further 35,000. This totals almost 180,000 officers and men and is a staggering amount of human bodies that could simply not be found. It does defy belief.
Thiepval Memorial to The Missing - all in between cyclones
The weather has been kind to us so far but, all of a sudden, the wind picks up and there follows torrential rain and hail which is ice cold and forces us to scurry for shelter. This happens twice further. We do feel a bit sheepish complaining about this, bearing in mind where we are and, essentially close off that quintessential topic of British conversation.
Relations of mine? |
In between cyclones, Matt manages to find his first relation. It gets me wondering if I had any relations fighting at the Somme so have a rummage through the detailed catalogues that are available at the memorial. I don't have any knowledge of my family tree any earlier than my paternal grandfather. I know he was a military man but nothing more than that. The catalogue identifies 3 casualties bearing my name and I make a mental note to investigate my lineage further when I have the opportunity.
Ypres
We arrive in Ypres still a little early to check in to our accommodation so we park up and have a wander around the town. It is a little disappointing to discover that the Grote Markt square is barriered off for the start and finish point of a cycle race that says it is called In Flanders Fields. I can't find any web pages that details what that is about but it does look like it will be a good day out on the following day.
We eye up a few cafés and bars for a potential lunch stop but, ultimately, settle for baguettes from the local Carrefour. There will be plenty of opportunity for beer based carnage later on. With baguettes complete, it is now past 15:00 and access to the AirBnB is bow available. We contact the owner for key codes and make our way there. In no time at all, the car is unloaded and we have entered our home (via 4 flights of stairs) for the next 18 hours. The lengthy ascent up the stairs is worth the effort for the view we have from the balcony. We drink that in for all of 5 minutes before rushing back in as there is a rather chilly breeze.
Fully aware that we intend to parade at the Menin Gate at 20:00, in our finest splendour, we immediately get on it!! Alex has had the foresight to bring the remnants of last night's beers and we have 2 cans of craft beer each. These and some research on where we should go for pre-parade dinner. We finally settle on Les Halles, which has a decent looking menu, with reasonable prices and good TripAdvisor reviews, which is all good enough for us. With that decision made and the 2 cans in the bag, it is time to get into suits and medals.
There is a pre-departure crisis. Alex has mislaid his wallet and an extensive search of the apartment and car ensues. After a good 15 minutes of head scratching and Alex insistent that this sort of thing never happens to him, something makes me think I may have the answer. As I pick up my bag, I have a flashback of putting my black wallet in there. Of course this turns out to have been Alex's black wallet and now have 2 of them in there. An easy mistake to make I say, whilst also being extremely apologetic!
We head to the dinner RV, stopping along the way at the appropriately named Biking Bar. This has all sorts of paraphernalia related to Belgium's favourite sport and also has a reasonable selection of beers. I opt for a Westmalle Tripel, a beer I have not had for some time and is as nice as I remember. We have a taste for the good stuff and another glass beckons but we realise that time is ticking and we need to fit scoff in before heading to the Menin Gate.
As we head to the Grote Markt, and the rough area of the restaurant, I have a brain fart and can neither remember the name of the place nor where it was on Google Maps! It, ultimately, doesn't matter as we have a quick look at the row of options before us and, by a stroke of good fortune, the choice we make is no longer the forgotten Les Halles but De Kollebloeme. The Gods are indeed smiling on us tonight as the food we order is exquisite. I go all British tourist and have a steak, Alex is even more touristy and goes for a burger (albeit an Aberdeen Angus variety) whilst Matt and Ed go full local and order the Flemish stew. For the quality of the food, the ambience and the service, the bill comes to €131, including beers - a bargain in my mind. The agreement is a 4 way split, which benefits me as I have had a third beer but only make a very mild protest, which is quickly batted away by the others.
Remembrance
It is time for the main event of the weekend and we head out into the evening chill for the short walk to the Menin Gate. This spectacular monument to the missing is undergoing a 2 year face lift and is completely closed off. The project have been sympathetic to the significance of the structure and have covered whatever work is going on inside with sheeting on which images of the memorial are sketched. The service itself is to be held on the canal bridge right next to the memorial. There is a surprisingly large crowd gathering and, as we make our way through the pedestrian walkway, we are a little concerned that we will get boxed in. By means of some tactical shoving and with Alex shouting for people to keep moving (Alex being observed by a random Brit as typical Sgt Major type - if only he knew!) we get through the throng and make it to the other side of the road and into a prime, front row position.
How the Menin Gate usually looks |
I am not yet feeling the effects of 2 craft beers and 4 Belgian tripels, although I am later told that their is photographic evidence to suggest the contrary! I am yet to see said evidence and I am confident my performance was worthy of the people we were there to honour. The service is exemplary and it is a testament to the all the people who contribute to making this happen on a nightly basis, that it does not lose any reverence or give any impression of complacency. The people of Ypres, led by the local fire service, are clearly very proud of this tradition and, after approximately 33,000 editions, one, in all honesty, can't see it ending any time soon.
The Remains of The Day
If I'm totally honest, the rest of the night was a bit of a sameness. There was convivial conversation, in splendid bars ,with lovely beer but nothing of significance happened worthy of an entry in this account. I do know that beer consumption went well into double figures and it is a blessing that tripel beer is served in 33cl glasses and not pints!!
A view of my scribbled notes and cross checks against Google Maps suggests we called in at the following, all very pleasant, watering holes:
- ØI Tanbier BV
- Ben's Bar
- Kaffee Bazaar
Grote Markt taken over by cycling types |
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