Hunt the Lidl

It was only a two hour drive from Spa to our next stop-off at Aische on Refail. The campsite at Manoir de la Bas promised much according to the ACSI blurb, 'beautiful grounds of a 17th Century manor offer a spacious 20 hectare campsite, quiet and undisturbed...' This we know because Gill has embarked on an in-depth textual analysis is ACSI book copy feeling that differences in emphasis between the entries of one country and another may inadvertently reveal hidden cultural characteristics. As an exercise in impromptu socio-linguistics this seems to me to be inspired; M. Foucault would have been impressed. Initial findings regarding Belgium include, a predeliction for fishing lakes, a latent anxiety about sanitary facilities and an eagerness to stress the proximity to cross-country skiing opportunities, even in those campsites closed during the winter months.

Before we could embark on field research we needed to shop. 'Find the Lidl' is the motorhomer's equivalent to the age old game of hunt the thimble. The area around  Namur involved a particularly challenging game, but in the process we did experience the delights of Namur's suburbs, got a distant glimpse of its famous fortress high above the Meuse. Furthermore, we benefited from an unexpected 21km. excursion through the spectacular Meuse gorge, while swapping fatuous comments along the lines of,  "Well, all these people must shop somewhere."

Finally, as we reached the centre of Andenne a familiar blue and yellow logo appeared in the distance, murmurings of joy rang through the cab, everything was good, a Lidl and a pull-through space to park-up Maisy! Sometimes blessings fall upon us like manna from heaven... mostly though we just have to make do with more mundane moments of apotheosis, like finding a Lidl before lunch.

This part of the Meuse valley is a mixture of spectacular tall limestone cliffs and industrial decay. It's a bit like West Yorkshire, and if Belgian TV ever fancied remaking Last of the Summer Wine, not only do they have the location, but many a candidate for the role of Nora Batté could be found amongst the aisles of Andennes Lidl. That being said after failing to find fresh milk on sale, then discovering that the local banks locate their cash machines inside the premises, rendering them inaccessible outside business hours, I concluded the area was really more suited to a re-make of League of Gentlemen.

An abandoned ancient Mercedes had been dumped in the corner of the Lidl car park, number plate removed to hide  the identity of the perpetrators. Rather than tow it away, the authorities had clamped it instead! 

This was merely a variant of a unique aspect of the Belgian psyche. Some of the motorways are seriously pot-holed, so instead of repairing them, up goes sign which says, 'bumpy road ahead'. Similarly, the road markings on motorway slip roads have worn away. Clearly it's cheaper to plant a sign saying 'absence de marqueage' than repaint the road. 

The BBC are reporting that our illustrious PM is off to Brussels to re-negotiate our club membership. I hope he is not whisked from the airport down a decaying Belgian motorway on the way to see scary auntie Angela. Because, in truth, British roads too are beginning to get somewhat potholed, and their white lines worn away in places, but as yet we don't point it out with warning signs. 

Why? Because in the UK we are under the collective illusion that the effects of austerity are a temporary phase of 'belt tightening' before Head boy Dave and his Tory prefects' jolly economic japes 'make Britain great' again. Belgium is one step ahead of us and has acknowledged that decline may be permanent. What a great situation for a goverment committed to collecting the same taxes, but offering reduced services in return. I can just see the signs going up now - Level Crossing: Beware, absent barriers; Hospital foyer: Doctor free zone, Airport: Landing lights, carbon footprint reduction scheme, alternate nights only. The opportunities for reducing profligate public spending are endless, once you developed a Belgian artritude.

If you don't like it, well while we still are members you could re-locate to other less developed places in Europe, where property is cheaper and the Government adheres to obsolete and old fashioned modes of political thinking that ministers are  there to serve the people and improve their lot - Spain is like that, surprisingly, so is Germany.

I see it now, we have made the big decision, sold up, and headed in off in Maisy for a new life in Cadiz or Koblenz, southwards we trundle, devastated that we might never again enjoy the delights of Stoke on Trent. Soon we approach that magnificent relic of British civil engineering, Spaghetti Junction, and note new signage - Beware, exit reduction scheme now operates.