Arlon to Malmedy, (Westwards), Liege and Genk.
Saturday, and we nipped across the border into Luxembourg first thing in the morning to get fuel, having found out the previous day that there is only one filling station in Arlon: it's a lot cheaper in Luxembourg, so everyone gets it there. We were a bit surprised to drive over the border, and immediately see 3 petrol stations in a row. Having filled up, we promptly turned round and drove back the way we had come. End of our foray into Luxembourg.
It became abundantly clear that our road to Malmedy lay along the border between Belgium and Luxembourg. As we drove through through the small town of Martelangel, the left hand side of the road was in Belgium, and the right hand side in Luxembourg. All the way through the town, the right hand side was a series of petrol station, whose shops had a vast array of alcohol and cigarettes, many with special pumps for lorries, which were all busy.
We stopped for a lunch break at Stavelot: having a wander round and stretching the legs, we popped into a small church and picked up a leaflet about the town's abbey, so decided to walk round and have a look. The town museum is housed in the abbey complex buildings, next to the ruins of a church that predates the abbey. Although all the foundations and pillar bases show the extent of the church, the only part still standng is what would have been the entrance: this is without doors, but it still has a stained glass window above. There is also an information centre in the museum building, where we got information about the Battle of the Bulge museum only a few kilometres up the road, at Malmedy.
The museum, housed in a purpose built complex, told the story of the Battle of the Bulge, with a part dedicated to the story of the massacre at Malmedy. You were led through the display by a series of footprints and numbered commentary points. Cabinets had displays of artefacts, or reconstructed scenes from the war. Labelling was very sparse, but nothing more was necessary: the items spoke for themselves. An informative film was also shown in a small studio.
On to the aire for the night at Malmedy, some distance from Liege. When we arrived, the left hand side was already full, with about 12 motorhomes, side by side. As no bays were actually marked out, 2 Dutch motorhomes had parked in front of each other along the other side. We parked in from of the Dutch, but then discovered there were only 8 electric points, all obviously in use. We thought we might as well go to the other aire in the vicinity, as this would be nearer to Liege, where we were intending to go to church the next day. However, one Dutchman offered to share his electric with us. The other occupants of the two vans came out to help: 2 Dutchmen, a woman and a dog, us, lots of sign language and several miles of cable and various multiple sockets later, we were all wired up nicely. The aire was only 5E for the night, including all services.
So, off for a quick walk into the town to stretch our legs, and saw the ubiquitous "Frites" counter. Felt we needed to sample the Belgian speciality, so we walked down the road with our yummy frites. The frites might be good, but the Belgian roads are absolutely terrible.
Sunday, and we disconnected ourselves from the spaghetti of wires at about 9am, and off to Church in Liege. We found the street without a hitch, and parked, but could initially see no sign of any church-like building. At length, we found a small door in a tiny space tucked between two office buildings: this let into a small vestibule, and then on again into what apperared to be a purpose-built worship area, with a dias for the altar. This appears to be the Adventist Church's building, and had a congregation of about 25, predominantly African. The vicar explained there was a smaller congregation than usual, as some of the children were away at camp. The lively vicar led the hymns with an acoustic guitar, and gave a warm welcome to all the visitors: us, an American man on a business trip, and a Tasmanian lady. We all had a friendly cup of tea and a chat afterwards in the tiny back kitchen.
Off then to Bokrijk Open Air Museum, near Genk. It took a while to decipher the signs in the car park, as the language here is Flemish (very similar to Dutch), but a kind man in the kiosk helped us. Many people in Belgium speak very good English, which is just as well, as we do not speak Flemish !
At the museum ticket office, there were information leaflets in French and Dutch: a bit of a Hobson's choice, but we managed with the French on. However, this display of houses and buildings of different regions through the ages, had signage in English in front of every house. Even more amazing (based on recent experience) was that the ground plan on the leaflet corresponded extremely well to the actual layout of the museum. There were all types of buildings from a mill to a presbytery. Although nearing the end of the season, there were plenty of artisans and activities still to be seen. There was a milliner in her workshop, a baker, a felt maker, and a potter in action. We saw donkeys, Ardennes horses, and a horse drawn bus; pigs with piglets, and white cattle. Further on there was a kind of open shed, with "hobby horse bikes" with no pedals (propelled by "walking"), and a pedallo- type trike with a steering bar, which we tried out, to hilarious laughter. A house further on had a dog-powered wheel to drive the dairy equipment inside, and further still we could here laughter from inside a building, and a "Schoolmaster" was giving a lesson to a class of adults in the school house. All in all, this was a very enjoyable afternoon.