Luc, or “benvenuto in Belgica” (“welcome to Belgium”).
It is almost mid-August. Motoexplora’s “Ardennes and Wallonia” trip is in full swing and we are all happy with what we are seeing and the roads we are riding on our motorcycles. Today we visited the places sadly known for the world wars that left an indelible mark on this land. Verdun and Bastogne, to name just the most significant, and after the war museums we treat ourselves to a lovely road full of bends, much loved by Belgian riders. We head for La Roche-en-Ardenne, a beautiful village on the river Ourthe, where we take a break. We park our bikes in the village’s main square, always crowded with motorcycles, and get ready for a stroll around the old town and perhaps a coffee or an ice cream in one of the cafés. This time the group includes a good number of Moto Guzzis. We settle into the square, with our Motoexplora stickers in full view, as if declaring where we belong. We are about to set off on foot and, between chatting, sorting out our bags and locking the cable to secure our helmets, we linger a moment before leaving the square. At that very moment a stunning red Le Mans III arrives, so gleaming it looks as if it has just rolled out of the red gate in Mandello del Lario. The rider is wearing an AGV SuperAgo helmet and a vintage leather jacket. The same goes for his boots and gloves. He could have stepped out of an eighties rally, and yet we are firmly in 2025. The bike stops right in the middle of us. The rider gets off and puts it on the centre stand. The paint reflects the sun’s rays, almost dazzling us. It has a yellow and black number plate: the bike comes from Belgium.
“Buongiorno a tutti!” (“Good morning, everyone!”), the man exclaims once he is off. He has a very strong Belgian accent, he is certainly not a native Italian speaker but he seems keen to try. Perhaps he has seen our Guzzis, our number plates, and decided to have a go at our language. He puts down his helmet and jacket and some of us start complimenting him on his stunning machine. He is obviously proud of it. He says he did everything himself, mechanics and paintwork. He sprinkles his long French sentences with a few Italian words. He has white hair brushing his shoulders, and his face is marked by a drooping reddish moustache that falls past his lips. He looks every bit like a musician in a seventies prog band. You could picture him with a Stratocaster in his hands or behind a Tama drum kit. He introduces himself, says his name is Luc and that he is Belgian. He lives not far away and loves riding this loop. He takes off his jacket and a Laverda shirt immediately appears. He starts telling us about his many bikes, all Italian, from Guzzi to Gilera, by way of Laverda and Ducati. Without any arrogance he talks about his various Arcores, Jotas and Super Sports, names that make all of us enthusiasts jump. Every now and then, as he speaks, he slips in a refrain that sounds like “Benvenuto in Belgica!”, as if to say we are all his welcome guests. The mix of English and Italian is easy to understand anyway, perhaps thanks to our shared passion.
“Let’s all go for a coffee… my treat!” exclaims Luc, affectionately pushing two of us towards the café nearby. “Benvenuto in Belgica!” he says again, smiling under his moustache. I offer to stay and keep an eye on the bikes and the gear, but he flatly refuses. He says we are close by and that he will keep an eye on the bikes himself, then points to a café right next door with a nice free table that seems made for us. We sit down, and Luc recommends we try the typical Belgian sweet, the gaufre, that waffle soft inside and crisp outside, eaten with fruit and ice cream or with jam and chocolate. We cannot pass up the local speciality and, between talk of two wheels, a bite and a sip of coffee, the afternoon slips slowly towards our departure. We finish our snack and get ready to head for our next destination. We thank Luc, who of course has already paid the bill. We say goodbye with kisses and hugs. “Alors Luc, on va se voir en septembre à Mandello del Lario?” (“So, Luc, shall we meet in September in Mandello del Lario?”), I say in French. “Cette fois je vais t’offrir un expresso sur le lac…” (“This time I’ll buy you an espresso by the lake…”).
“Bien sûr mon ami…, on va se chercher…” (“Of course, my friend… we’ll find each other…”).
“Au revoir Luc.”
“Au revoir, Motoexplora group, benvenuto in Belgica.”
He puts on his helmet and jacket. He gets on the Le Mans. He presses the red button and the Lafranconi exhausts sing across the square of La Roche-en-Ardenne. Bye Luc, see you in Mandello.
Roberto Polleri
