Pt3 - 7: BELGIUM 15 th July – 18 th July The three hundred kilometres to Brugge took exactly three hours. We pulled into the carpark of the Hotel Lodewijk van Male at 1:30 with just over six thousand clicks on the bullet’s odometer. Concentrating on the little details was one way of managing my mental state, of imposing order on my mind. We’d driven almost the whole way in silence. Tess spent much of the time staring out the window at the dreary, built-up landscape with its endless forest of high-tension towers marching off into the distance. I was quietly angry; angry with myself for allowing us to get into such a compromising position in a public place, angry with the punks for jumping us, angry with the people who ignored us afterwards…I had trouble keeping hold of the positives; that we’d escaped serious physical harm, that our valuables were safe, that we’d travelled for one hundred and forty five days through eleven countries from Egypt to Amsterdam without m...
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