Things were blowing sideways, branches, trees, trucks. So after the drive from Brugge to Turnhout for a hotel. Hustling over to the Mol venue was like arriving at a ghost town...deserted. Figured, even on a rest day, needed to brave the weather and it was not all bad. As luck has it, ran into all sorts of boys from state side. Not much had changed on the par-course, the sand was everywhere and as fast as always.
All the best for some rest, Henri
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