Sleeping in a different bed each night

Last time I went on the Camino, in Spain, I did not book anything ahead. Actually, that's not entirely true; I booked two nights in a hostel in Santiago, the day before I expected to arrive there, figuring if there was one place it was going to busy, it was there. And I wanted a place in the centre of town so I could just walk into town. But apart from that, each night was a different adventure, not knowing where I'd stop, nor where I'd sleep for the night. I had no idea how long I would (and could) ride each day, nor did I want to be restricted to a schedule. Since I was on a well-established walking route, I knew that there would be somewhere around every 5km, as long as I wasn't fussy about the type of accommodation. Generally this worked out fine although there were a couple of near misses, notably on my very first day when I had to ride an extra 16km at the end of an already long and tiring day, before finally finding a bed for the night (and it was a pretty dodgy one at that).

This time around, after initially planning to take each day as it came, I decided in the end to plan where I'd spend each night ahead of time. That was a risk, since it would restrict my freedom and also force me to ride a certain distance each day. But I was riding in a holiday season and accommodation options were not as plentiful as they were in Spain, so I booked ahead, although of course each place was still an unknown.

In the Netherlands and some of Belgium I used the very impressive Vrienden op de Fiets (friends on bikes). This is a network of 'bed & breakfast' places, but in the original sense of term: you are essentially invited into the home of people, you get to use the spare bedroom and maybe also the rest of the house. They are generally not commercial establishments (although some are) and your experience can vary widely. Only the price is fixed: €19 for bed and breakfast, which is great value.

Dutch breakfast - ready for the day's riding

My first night is in a beautifully restored old village house. Clearly no expense has been spared on the restoration, and it has been nicely extended as well. It's recently done and everything is neat and tidy, furnished with care and attention.  My room is one of two in the upstairs area, and I have a bathroom almost all to myself. The son is also spending a night and had access to it as well ,(although he used the main bathroom). Breakfast is impressive in both the quantity and the variety, but is unmistakably Dutch. After breakfast the host of the house asks me to add a comment to the visitor's book. When I open it, I discover that it's empty. I am their very first guest. They take some pictures of me with the hostess and my bike to mark the occasion. It's a great start to my accommodation journey.

The second night I stay in an older somewhat rundown house lived in by an older woman. She's a lovely, if slightly unusual, lady. It's an old house, stuck in the sixties or probably earlier. Any renovations or alterations were done fifty years ago and nothing's changed since. There's stuff and old junk piled all over the place, except the living room which is fairly tidy and seems to have made it into the seventies at least. The old fridge in the kitchen is obviously struggling (it may well be from the seventies too) because it's not very cold in there. Still, I am offered to help myself to a beer which is cold enough today. She gives me her keys (which turn out later to be not a spare set, but her keys). The toilet has the cistern lid removed with a written note left on the seat with instructions on how to flush. There's a fluffy cat cover on the toilet seat. Above the hand basin there's a shelf on which there is a jumbo sized can of air freshener and a large can of WD40; not something you'd normally expect to find in a toilet. Then I realise it's probably to fix the problematic cistern. The toilet and bathroom are in an extension out the back of the original house, together with a laundry area. It's not a particularly welcoming area, but at least it's functional. The matching fluffy bathmat set only adds to the overall impression.

The woman is extremely generous with her time and when I ask whether she knows where I can get a stamp for my pilgrim passport she makes it her mission to find out, which she does after an impressive bit of research on her part.

My third night is spent in what is essentially a farm house, but which is now surrounded by only a small field , with a pony and goat to help with lawn mowing. An old wooden circus mobile home is set up in the garden as guest accommodation. But I get the recently-converted upstairs unit in the main building, which includes a little kitchen and sitting area as well as a bedroom and bathroom. It's all very well equipped. I'm offered a drink (a beer, why not) on arrival. The couple running the place are very friendly and chatty and I learn that the house actually belonged to the woman's grandparents, and that her parents lived in a house we can just see a few hundred metres away. The guy says his father in law used to tell him to trim the trees otherwise he couldn't see what they were up to.

The Dutch biking couple who arrive after me get the caravan, which means they have to go into the house to use the bathroom (the host is building a little mini caravan to use as a bathroom for the main caravan). I have the little studio apartment all to myself, which is just fine by me.

From my three-night experience, I have to say I am very impressed with the Vrienden op de Fiets organisation.

My next night is actually the first one I booked; the Youth Hostel in Tournai. I thought to stay in more youth hostels, but they are rather few and far between in this part of Europe (they seem to be much more common in Germany, for example) and don't suit my route at all. It's a nicely restored old building in the old city, with lovely old wooden staircases. It's similar in quality to the massive council hostel in Burgos, but with small four-bed rooms. The snoring is the same though.