A new chapter for the old castle?

I'm almost back to my usual blogging schedule, it seems, as in today's post I will be regaling you with what we did on Sunday the 8th of January!

Once again, the forecast had been indecisive, talking of sunny spells in the morning followed by  showers in the afternoon. If we hadn't been feeling so sluggish, we would have gone for a walk after breakfast before things were expected to go pear-shaped again. 

However, what with the upcoming office move at the end of the week and all the extra work this would entail, I was being more than just a little grumpy and jittery, which made accomplishing even the tiniest of tasks an impossibility. 

Before we could make up our minds, it was time for lunch. But lo and behold: the sun was still gracing us with her presence! In fact, it would remain dry and sunny all day! Weathermen these days!

The thermometer insisted it was 10°C, which I took as a sign to wear this raspberry red frock sprinkled with a veritable confetti of tiny white stripes and yellow and white dots.

At the event of its first appearance on the blog in February 2019, when I'd stumbled upon it at Episode, a rarely visited vintage shop, I likened its buttons to raspberries. When Kezzie told me in her comment that she thought they looked more like lychees, I could only nod in agreement!

As you know, I'm a creature of habit, but surely there's no better colour than yellow to accompany this dress? This time, I opted for bright butterscotch hues in the form of my charity shopped Zoë Loveborn cardigan and opaques. For some reason my camera always reads the latter as mustard, making them match the belt and the necklace, an old retail buy and a charity shop find respectively.

My mid-century celluloid brooch featuring two Scottie dogs in a sailing boat was purchased at an antiques fair in November 2019.

A quick peek at my No Stress caramel suede lace-up ankle boots, charity shopped back in December.

I only wore them for the outfit photos, though, as they would have been completely ruined if I'd worn them for the walk we eventually dragged ourselves out of the house for.  As a result of the endless rain we'd been having, muddy patches and puddles would have been unavoidable.

The same endless rain, in fact, ruled out several walking options, and in particular those in any of the ex-clay pit nature reserves. After tossing around some ideas, we decided on Hof ter Linden, a domain surrounding a Neoclassical manor house (a.k.a. the castle), which is only a hop and skip away in the next village.

After having parked our car, we proceeded along the cobbled avenue lined with age-old lime trees towards the mesmerizing flash of bright white which was beckoning from its very end.

The avenue of broad-leaved limes (Tilia platyphyllos) historically connects the castle with the village church and doubles as the entrance to the castle grounds. They were planted in 1756 by the then Lord of the castle, Simon-Carolus de Neuf.

I have yet to walk here without reminiscing about my late Dad, who grew up in the village, and for whom the castle grounds were part of his playground. As the castle itself was still very much lived in at the time, the grounds were obviously strictly out of bounds which, judging from his often told wartime childhood stories, didn't seem to have deterred him and his friends.

Perhaps this wise man keeping watch remembers the gang of village boys who used to sneak into the castle grounds and knew its pathways like the backs of their hands? One thing is certain: the lion who was cruelly ripped from its plinth, leaving only its amputated paws and claws, must still have been standing guard at the avenue's entrance.

Once through the wrought iron gates, a magnificent view towards the castle opens up, the white pillared bridge across the moat guarded by two placid lions, whom time seems to have treated much more kindly.

At the far end, they are mirrored by a pair of sphinxes. They are definitely not mimicking the lions' kindly and welcoming expressions, daring one to advance and walk past them without being turned into pillars of salt.

 

 

If at first glance the caste is reminiscent of a smoothly iced wedding cake, the cracks in the icing will soon become apparent upon your approach. 

Ran as a conference and events venue until the end of 2022, it is rumoured that, finally, a start will be made with its much needed renovation this year, aided by a grant which will cover about eighty percent of the cost. There may be a new chapter for the old castle soon!

The park which stretches out behind the castle features a pond with gazebo, as well as grasslands and ancient woodland. 

There are more of those stuck-up sphinxes here at the back of the castle, flanking a flight of steps down to the pond. It appears that the one on the bottom left won't be able to look down her nose at us ordinary folks, though!

Several white painted statues on plinths used to surround the pond, but unfortunately these disappeared shortly before the domain was sold to the village authorities in March 2012. Apparently, they were removed by the descendants of the castle's last occupant. After a legal battle, the family was convicted for theft of the statues and other works of art in 2017. By then, unfortunately, at least six of the missing statues had already been auctioned off in France, so that it remains doubtful that they will ever be returned.

The domain originated in the 14th century, when a walled and fortified farmstead was built near the site of the current castle. Unfortunately, it didn't survive the Eighty Years' War (1560-1640) after which it gradually decayed.

In the 17th century, the then owner, Peter de Coster de Jonge, had the building demolished. In its place, he built a hof van plaisantië (court of plaisance) in Renaissance style, a country residence in what used to be the rural belt around Antwerp.

However, this residential castle was also besieged, so that in 1770 there was no option but to demolish it. 

Between 1770-1773, the de Neuf family had the castle rebuilt complete with accompanying coach houses, and an ornamental park laid out. 

The complex is a beautiful example of Neoclassical architectural style and, incredibly though it seems, the castle is said to retain most of its original and perfectly preserved interiors.

Most of the ground floor windows are shuttered so that there's no chance of a sneaky peek, although I once caught a glimpse of these gorgeous tiles through a gap in the curtains.

I have been lamenting the sorry state of the castle's exterior in no less than eight blog posts since I first took you here in November 2016. Hopefully, the impending restoration rumours are true and I can finally share a bit of good news one of the next times we walk here ...

We'd circumnavigated the pond by now and after negotiating the muddy paths we'd arrived back at the courtyard in front of the castle.

The coach houses on both sides have long been sympathetically restored to their former glory, providing a stark contrast with the crumbling castle. They have been turned into a brasserie and a culinary restaurant respectively. I haven't been able to find out what the castle will be used for after its restoration, but I'm hoping there will be a chance of having a look inside at long last!

Heads sufficiently cleared of most of the lingering cobwebs, we walked through the magnificent wrought iron gates and up the ancient avenue, back to where we'd left our car.

So glad the weathermen got it wrong again: just look at that glorious blue sky!

Joining Nancy's Fancy Friday link-up party!