8. the Trip to Benelux

After spending the night, uncertain whether Ricardo would return (thankfully he didn't), we each had our breakfast bought the day before, and around a herd of cows muscled as if they were on steroids in the adjacent pasture, we set off towards Charleroi airport.

Before ten o'clock comes the saddest part of our journey. Fíla is leaving us; it's tragic, but it has to be, state exams are calling. Safe travels, Filo, and don't embarrass us tomorrow.

After the farewell, it was time for the unavoidable decision on who would take over Mr. Pečlivý's prime spot. I gladly took on this task and switched to the passenger seat. With this shift, the entire car reformed from a front business party to an everywhere party, as even the biggest party animal Tadík moved to the middle zone.

After dropping off our beloved member, we headed for shopping, navigated by the greatest party animal, but unfortunately got lost a few times. However, shopping eventually went well, allowing us to indulge not only in beer but also in good snacks.

Our first expedition without Fíla was aimed at Germany, to Aachen, the city of the coronation of Roman kings and the favorite residence of Charles IV. After an endless drive through all levels of the parking garage, we finally reached the blazing rooftop, from where we set out to explore this ancient city. The biggest attraction was the local Cathedral of Our Lady, built at the turn of the 8th and 9th centuries during the reign of Charlemagne in the Carolingian Renaissance style. As a pseudo-historian bachelor, I greatly appreciated this structure. The ancient building was enhanced by two golden medieval reliquaries, one of which contained the remains of Charlemagne himself. Next came the local Gothic town hall and a bean lunch on the parking garage roof, and then we raced back to Benelux, specifically to the Dutch city of Maastricht with several Gothic churches and a square filled with elderly tourists gathered for a large opera concert. Before leaving, we managed to water the bushes in someone’s garden out of necessity (uno cotora).

And now we faced the most challenging part of our journey: conquering the highest mountain in the Netherlands, Vaalserberg, at a record 323 meters above sea level. We bravely conquered the giant and the lookout tower on it and continued back to Belgium, visiting a fortress along the way.

The charming town of La Meuse completely captivated us; we admired it, took a photo, and after actually quite a short stop of about 15 minutes, we zoomed to our sleeping site near the reservoir by the town of Neufchâteau. Upon arrival, it was time to divide tasks. Three expedition members decided to exercise, two went for a run, and one vigilantly watched the car with a glass of cold beer. These demanding activities later compelled us to take a dip in the local reservoir, the water after several days of absence was very pleasant. At dinner, where pork chops fell victim to our hunger, we excitedly watched a football match while sipping on hops. Now all that awaited us was sleep in the tent.

Good night.

Hanz