For my regular readers, my previous post ended with a conundrum around having a fan on in a hotel room and suffering the noise, or off, and suffering the heat. I opted for fan on and, it turns out, that was a terrible mistake. I was still too hot and the noise of the fan dug deep into my soul. I estimate that I got about 5 hours sleep and was happy to be up and about and feel refreshed by the warm shower on my tired face.
When we last visited northern Europe on a road trip, the kids picked up on a place in Germany called Titz. I would love to pretend that it was just them that found this hilarious but, I have to admit, I did too. On that occasion, we couldn’t justify the detour given the plans that we had, but this trip was all about the drive to see Titz.
So, off we set on a crisp, sunny and warm morning with blue skies above us and open country roads ahead. It was only a half hour pootle along country roads and we were there, 3 years or so in the waiting and we finally got to have our photo taken at the sign for Titz.
It was little more than a village that we had caught fast asleep on this Sunday morning. Nothing on the main street was open, all of the shutters were down on shops and homes and there was no sign of life at all save for the occasional car and cyclist.
There was one sour note. One of the houses had what appeared to be a huge George Cross flag draped from the upstairs window. It may just have been a fan of English football and they were supporting us in the European championships final being held that night in Berlin, but I couldn’t help but feel that we had been outdone.
We had a 4 day mini break set up just to visit Titz, it looked like these guys may have gone a few steps beyond and moved there totally!
Our plans for breakfast in Titz looked to be in vain as there was nothing open, but as we turned into the still not yet open Aldi car park, we spotted that the bakery next door was open. So there we sat, in the car park of an Aldi with corn fields in front of us and blue skies above us enjoying a delicious ‘dead fly cake’ pastry and a cup of coffee at the Bäckerei Büsch, Titz. I would love to pretend that it was a fiercely independent master baker, but I strongly suspect that we were sat in the German equivalent of Greggs. It didn’t stop it being lovely though.
A steady stream of locals pulled up outside and came in to pick up their morning loaf and a treat and, pretty much to a man, they all wished me a ‘guten morgen’ with a nod and a smile as they passed into the doorway, beyond our little table.
The original plan was that we would be driving from Titz to Bra, near to Liege in Belgium, but we had plans to meet up with friends for dinner in Antwerp and it seemed like a lot of effort for a fairly weak joke.
So, with the wind in our hair we set off again and generally headed west towards Antwerp but with many hours of spare time to kill on the way to take in whatever we fancied. Freedom is a great thing.
As we made our way through across the German autobahns, I couldn’t help but laugh at every sign for ‘Ausfahrt’. Not only is it a funny word, we had visited Titz for that reason don’t forget, but I couldn’t help but say as we passed each slip road, ‘Popular place that Ausfarht, all roads seem to head there’. A classic dad joke. But I was a dad with his daughter, and I didn’t care how weak a pun it was. I was happy and content.
Around an hour into the journey, but now in Holland, we passed a sign for Maastricht and we both agreed that this would be worth a look. We pulled off the motorway and found the most central car park that we could. It was like something from The Jetsons. Fully underground and lit like a space station, a red and green light above each parking bay signified if there was a space available, assumingly picked up by a sensor in the gantry above. Very fancy, thank you Q park Mosae!
It was a classic Northen European town. Almost everyone that was walking the streets seemed happy, polite and incredibly well dressed in their Sunday best and walked with purpose but without hurry and without stress. The narrow streets were cobbled and lined with pretty and ancient houses.
As well as the Maastricht Treaty, the other great export of the town is André Rieu and he was all set to play in the town centre in the Vrijthof square in the coming days. It really was a lovely morning and people seemed to be streaking into the centre from all angles to walk the streets and take in the sights. As the shops didn’t seem to be opening until 12 and this was around 11, there was little to do other than people watch in the centre of town.
We spent a long while poking around the market that was filled with all sorts of antiques, bric-a-brac, art, handmade jewellery and oddities. A weird mix of a jumble sale, a house clearance and high end fashion.
We settled outside a bar with two seats next to each other, either side of a small table, both facing outwards towards the street, and watched the people go by. We said ‘Hello’ to a number of cute dogs and made up stories about where people were going, what they were doing and who they looked like. A lovely way to enjoy an orange juice if ever there was one.
Conscious of the time, both in terms of our impending tea date and also the cost of the world’s fanciest car park…..we decided to head off to Antwerp. We didn’t see too much of the town itself, we met up with an old workmate and his family and enjoyed a wonderful dinner with them in the Murni Wilrijk. It was healthy and wholesome and the conversation flowed like we had never been apart, a lot of the chatter was around the attempted assassination of the former president Trump overnight. And I thought my noisy fan was a big issue!
We were invited back by my friend and followed their car the short distance to their home, past the huge Rizla factory, and met their cats. I was very conscious that they had just returned from holiday and must have had a million and one things to sort out and so we made our excuses and left. Not before they very kindly gave us a load of Belgium food items and sauces for us to take home and try out!
Again, this little window into their home and their lives shone a light onto how similar things are all homes. The same worries, the same joshing and family banter, the same in jokes and silly stories, there is so much more that connects us than keeps us apart.
We bid our farewells and followed the sun that was starting to dip behind the clouds to the west. We took it nice and easy, the majority of the traffic appeared to be heading back inland as we headed towards the coast at the end of a lovely Sunday weatherwise. We passed a number of hot air balloons, hanging in the sky like ornaments hanging from the clouds. It must have been so calm and relaxing up there, the flat lands allowing them to see for miles in any direction.
We hit the coast and made our way south, taking in the sights of Nieuport and listened to a Churchill speech on Spotify as we passed the sand dunes of Dunkirk. One day, I think I will come back to Nieuport for a holiday. The busy front seemed filled with life, a warmer and classier Blackpool, but you are an hour’s drive away from a million and one interesting places to visit. We had missed the first half of the big football match, but it didn’t matter to me at all. I was with my daughter, making memories and enjoying the sights and sounds.
We pulled into the car park of the hotel, 523 miles into our journey. As we pulled our cases out of the boot there on the grass, inches away from the back of the car, was a human stool about a foot long. Deeply impressive and shocking at the same time. Whoever committed this crime against nature and humanity clearly had a very healthy diet and very unhealthy habits.
The only reason that anyone would want to stay at the Hotel Campanile, Dunkerque Sud, would be if they had a ferry to catch the next morning and needed somewhere to sleep only slighty more expensive that spending all night in McDonalds. For the price we paid, we got a fabulously clean room, a comfy bed and a great night’s rest.
How would you rate today’s trip? It was the Titz.
Itchy Feet and Titchy Feet 