This is Refuge des Cyclistes, a small riding collection in Brussels. I ride with them, sometimes, on Sunday mornings. Not a club. Just a bunch of people who like to ride with a bit of a pace. I am back from the morning ride and I can tell you, with certainty, a hard ride is no cure for a hangover. Oh, it will help me tomorrow and I will be better for it, but mid-ride, I was sure this was one of Dantés rings of hell.
Just more than 60 kilometres. I had no legs when the ride began and thought I would just bury myself in the small peloton and ride out the distance. Trouble is, in Belgium, they tend to do club rides that include a few monster climbs, just for fun. Short, steep, painful and often littered with cobblestones. Not ideal for wobbly, empty legs from excess. Chances are I will be riding with them again next Sunday. But the night before, I will be a teetotaller.
If you are interested in the Refuge des Cyclistes rides, try the Facebook page at