The Ardennes became the destination. Not too far away but still exotic enough for somone from the Dutch polders. Armed with a book about biking in the Ardennes written by the editor of a Dutch-Belgian motorcycle magazine I started my first tour. At home I checked my road maps and copied some of the roadbooks prevented in the book.

The Ardennes are famous for its history and beautiful spots. In early days the Celts lived aroud here - they called the Ardennes the Deep Forest. Frightening enough to keep the Roman legions at distance. Most spread is the legend about the Four Sons of Aymon and their steed Beyaard (if anyone knows the German or English names, please let me know). The crack in the rocks in the town of Dinant should be caused by the horse trying to jump across the river Meuse. Finally the poor animal was drowned with a millstone around its neck...

Talking about rivers... the river Meuse offcourse is most prominent in this area. A wonderful river for touring alongside - it is possible to ride along its banks to the source in the north of France. Then you'll travel the land where Joan of Arc grew up. The Ourthe and Amblève cut through the most familiar part of the Ardennes but the Sûre and Our in Luxemburg are worth a visit. This edge is part of the Eiffel, but who cares if bends go on endless.
Taking a close look at the roadmap I immediately noticed the Semois. Meandering heavily this beautiful river flows close to the French border in the south. My book also contained a tour along the Semois. Long ago this region was famous for its tobacco - nowdays it is simply beautiful and quiet.

The first day I went from Utrecht (NL) via Eindhoven (NL) and Hasselt (B) in the direction of the Ardennes. Once on the N80 the language in the villages soon becomes French and the hills become more steep. A few kilometres before Namur it is clear that you are entering the Ardennes: the road bends to the right and goes down till you reach a small river. After that everything changes...

I continue riding the N947 on the eastern banks of the Meuse. This road is better than the fast one on the other side. At Yvoir I cross the river and enter the Deep Forest. The N971 I follow curves along the Molignée. Just behind the Abbey of Maredsous I find a campsite on the banks of the stream. Soon after I taste the locally brewed beer from the abbey. The blond Maredsous tastes best.

My second day in the saddle goes in the didection of Nismes. An old magazine mentioned a spot where they used to shoot scenes for horrormovies, the Fondry des Chiens. The picture showed a spot where someone had messed up the rocks with a gigantix axe. Searching for the place was without result. With a ful gastank (even 101 octan!) i rode towards Couvin where the first roadbook started. At Monthermé I leave the track in favour of Château-Reginault for a visit to the Rochers des Quatre Fils Aymon. A short left turn and then straight up I reach the spot where the castle of the four Sons of Aymon once looked over the Meuse.
On top of the hills the quietness has gone. On one side lies the village taking a nap at this hour - on the other side there is a steel processing factory with lots of hammering and brute noises. Looking at the statue the four sons now have long beards and big bellies - much different from the four Children of Aymond we call them in the Netherlands. They must have been hiding here for quite a long time. The picture I once saw (four children on a big Flemmish working horse) must have been from the beginning of the legend.

Curving alongside the Semois I discover the only reason why people ride motorbikes. Following the Semois - than a small stream up hill - going over it and back to the Semois following an other brooklet. Everywhere in this area you see large wooden sheds that were used to dry tobacco. Nowadays they are used as garages and to keep the firewood dry. Making a nice hot fire in the fireplace is something people understand well here. The curve in the road just before Rochehaut I enjoy the view on the village of Frahan - the most beautiful panorama of Belgium.
Sitting in the sun on a wall a Flemish motorist tells his stories. After years of work in the coalmines he got his driving licence and became a bus and truck driver. Many years later he found out that this licence was also valid for riding a motorbike. Riding an old Kawasaki a new era began. Very often he forgot that after a wonderful ride through the Ardennes he had to get home...

The swaying continues and I reach the village of Herbeumont. A great campground lies on the banks of the river where flyfishing is a popular pastime. I am asked to put up my tent away from their lines. High above the tents and caravans is an impressive bridge on which trains used to cross the valley of the Semois. After a well tasting Belgian beer in one of the pubs I fall asleep in my little tent.

The third day I explore the area and roads north of Herbeumont using several roadbooks I took from home. Unfortunately the tours are not easy to combine but luckily every intersecion leads to new adventures. Riding the wrong way simply doesn't exist - it is beautiful everywhere. In this part of the Ardennes you'll find extensive forests and on the narrow roads there is harly any traffic. Especially near Nassonge and Saint Hubert it is very quiet. Several times I switch off the engine and listen to the sounds that are absent. It is unbelievable that these spots still exist only a few hundreds of kilometres from my noisy hometown of Utrecht.
In the afternoon I visit the cave of Hotton. It is less known than the one of Han-sur-Lesse but experts ensured my the stalagmites and stalagtites are more beautiful in Hotton. I make my camp in Sprimont (province of Luxembourg). The camping groud follows a typical Ardenese pattern: campsite, trout nursery with pond to catch your own meal and a restaurant - all of the same owner. The fish and also the Ardenese ham is superb. This is a country worth living in!

The next morning I ride in the direction of the sun towards Luxemburg. Alongside the river Wiltz I enter this little country where roadsigns are German, the money nearly is the same as in Belgium and fuel almost costs nothing. The language of the Luxemburgers is a funny language that seems to combine everything from the surrounding countries. The roads in the Grand Duchy are nice to ride. Trees with characteristic white painted bands mark the sides. Before leaving this beautiful country I visit the abbey of Clerveaux I encounter by surprise. Inside the buildings I discover an even more silent place than the woods of Nassonge. Here you can hear the pulse of your own heart - the silence is very impressive.

I take the roads that go to the north - tonight I will meet Karin in Maastricht where she will arrive by train. Together we spend the weekend in the wonderful Ardennes. In Malmedy I take a break for lunch and meet a German biker. After examination of both our bikes - he rides an old R100RS - we order some frites out of the best friterie in town, the one with the green painted window-frames. Trout, Ardenese ham and those large frites are the things you have to try when you are in the Ardennes.
In the evening I have dinner in Maastricht and wait for Karin somewhere near the railroad station. The train she is in is delayed for one and a half hour and lots of coffee and other refreshments fill my stomach. We stay at someones place overnight here in Maastricht. Pushing it through the hall I park the Funduro in the back garden.

On friday we ride through forests and alongside little rivers. Karin regrets the fact that she doesn't own a licence yet. On the banks of the river Ourthe in Durbuy we put up our tent. The little town is worth a visit although everything seems to be aimed at tourists...
The next day we decide to rent canoes and explore the river. The water is high enough to be able to look into the world. Half way we have to hoist our canoes some three metres up the riverbank because a fallen tree blocks the river. Later that day we pack our Funduro and ride through the woods of Nassonge. We now extra enjoy the silence and the birds of prey in the air. A day later we ride through the north of Luxemburg and Germany back home.