On Armistice Day: Muur 1, Me 0
My excuse? The rear wheel had no traction on the wet cobbles with a blanket of wet leaves. I had to dismount 4/5 of the way up the first section, just before the restaurant, as I felt that I was about to hit the deck imminently.
At the top of the first section, there was a little granny snapping away with a camera the size of her head. She was shrieking whilst she took well more than a dozen photos of me, before and after I dismounted, and saying something in Flemish, which I hardly understand. I am not certain if she was addressing me or talking to herself because it didn’t seem like she had a companion with her. And, there was clearly pleasure in all her shrieking.
I smiled at her, and she smiled back and mumbled something. I was not inclined to exchange contact details with her although she may have managed to get one or two good shots…