The next day I was on the road heading for a little French village called Wissant. I must say, the ride started pretty well, okay so the weather was a bit cloudy, but the going was good and I was in high spirits. And then I hit Belgium also known as worst-roads-in-Western-Europe-for-a-motorbike. Seriously, I was on the best highway they had and there were bumps that knocked me off my saddle every ten meters. Then to make it even more interesting there were grooves in each lane where vehicles had been over and over. I felt like I was on some old cart worn Roman road. I hadn’t expected this until at least Eastern Europe. As I was going along I looked down from the highway and saw a tractor going along what looked like a better road. Where’s the … Read More