It feels unreal. The Herminator and I walk since our arrival in Ghent around as the living dead. Herman falls asleep early in the evenings, as I do, but he sleeps as a log the whole night and I wake up every hour with sour hands and cramps in my legs. It does not get better, it gets worse. I called a doctor who said that I should wait a week before taking action. I think it will get better.

When we arrived in Paris a huge load fell of my shoulders. We did it. Herman was silent but seemed content. I stayed in a confused state. What did we do? I understand we drove a tricycle from Peking to Paris, shure… but why? I am confused. Is this it? Is there more?

Paris… the arrival at the Place Vendôme, champagne… the Intercontinental Hotel, a shower and in the smoking. What a difference with the 35 days before…

Gosh, Herman and I were (are) proud! The Gala was a blessing. Inge on my side, Peggy on Herman’s side. What an evening… I can almost feel what Borgese must have felt when he concluded his adventure. But my thoughts were with Auguste Pons. The letter he wrote coming back to Paris after his failed attempt spooked through my head. Friendship and betrayal, two emotions that are always closely linked. But we got there! We brought it home: all the way back to Paris! The whole track, without towing, without being on a truck! Every meter, every mountain…

When we arrived in Paris we parked the Contal on the Place Vendôme and enjoyed a super evening. At 05 AM I got up, walked to the square and drove the Contal to the hotel. At 11.45 we left Paris for Ghent for our 37th day… back to our families. One of those families is the ABS crew. They were all there, waiting for us… on the parking. I love them dearly!

 

The Herminator a I were akwardly present, not realising what waited for us. But the gang was there, just for us, joyfull and happy as always. Super.

 

Herman the brave was silent and organised and got the gear seperated so I could leave for home with Inge… We said goodby to each other as brothers and went each our way home. The days and weeks coming will make it clear how we were a team, how we did this together, as one. Herman the couragous, ruler of the world’s roads and protector of the front seat, the VIP lounge guy…

So now the Contal is back home. I have not worked on it for four days now. Weird! It took us without any technical problem (first time!) from Liège to Ypres, from Ypres to Paris and from Paris to Ghent, then to Sint-Martens-Latem. The little Tricar is a giant. What brings me to the question what I will do with it now. It will take some time, amongst other things, to answer that question. The future will tell.