Hops, towers and biscuits

It was Sunday the 6th of September when sunshine accompanied us on our by now familiar way to Poperinge, where our holiday cottage, Marjolein Guesthouse, was waiting for us once more. 

Including our stopover on our way to the UK back in August, this would be our third visit this year. Still, our hearts were making jumps of joy the minute we drove through our very own ornamental wrought iron gates. The view from our balcony never fails to delight us either: we were looking forward to sitting and staring across the lake and fields towards the Franco-Flemish hills for the next week.

I promise not to bore you to death waxing lyrical about the cottage which has been a true home away from home for more than 15 years, but here's the view of the compact little studio from one end to the other. The bathroom is hidden away behind the glazed door in front of the bed, and there's a breakfast nook offering an ever-enchanting view across the lake next to the kitchen block.

The weather forecast for the week ahead was for slightly cooler temperatures of just under 20°C, but thankfully no rain (ha!), but for now we were enjoying mild mid-twenties summer highs.

Having arrived shortly after 3 pm we had no further plans for the day than making ourselves at home and having a catch-up with our lovely host and friend Marino, who insisted on taking our photo.

We were one week later than usual so that I would be able to celebrate my birthday away from home. Therefore, we were fully expecting the hop field across the road to be partly harvested by now. Turned out that for once they weren't keeping to their usual schedule. As a result of the succession of heatwaves, hop picking began about a week later than usual, with the harvest estimated to be 20 per cent lower due to the flowers having been been scorched by the heat.

I hopped across the road to have a closer look at the rows of hop poles, at that time having absolutely no idea that we would be able to have an even closer look a couple of days later ...

Sunshine and clouds were playing a game of tag on Monday morning, but with the mercury still climbing to a balmy 23°C there was absolutely no reason to complain.

After a leisurely breakfast followed by the arduous task of pulling on Jos's compression socks, the first item on our agenda was stocking up on food and drink at the local supermarket.

Having dropped everything off at the cottage, we then decided on our first outing of our holiday, for which we selected Lijssenthoek Military Cemetery. Although involving a drive of less than 10 minutes from the cottage, we still managed to get hopelessly lost, as our Satnav insisted on taking us to the hamlet named Lijssenthoek instead of to the cemetery. 

Lijssenthoek Military Cemetery was designed by Sir Reginald Blomfield and is the second largest Commonwealth cemetery in Belgium, the largest being Tyne Cot Cemetery near Zonnebeke, about 25 kilometers away.

From 1915 until 1920 the hamlet of Lijssenthoek became the venue for the biggest evacuation hospital in the Ypres Salient. During the First World War, the hamlet was situated on the main communication line between the Allied military bases in the rear and the Ypres battlefields. Close to the Front, but out of the extreme range of most German field artillery, it became a natural place to establish casualty clearing stations. 

The cemetery contains 9901 Commonwealth burials of the First World War, 24 being unidentified. There are 883 war graves of other nationalities, mostly French and German, 11 of these unidentified.

One cannot help to be moved by those endless rows of identical headstones, bittersweet reminders of the atrocities and pointlessness of war.

In a reflective mood, we drove back to our cottage for lunch followed by forty winks (Jos) and a date with my current read.  

As I sat watching the antics of the plump of moorhens which call the lake their home, I suddenly spotted the majestic blue heron who sat patiently waiting for his next meal to swim along. It was only after I'd grabbed my camera that I saw I wasn't the only one who'd spotted him! 

Clouds started gathering in the afternoon, but although the darkening sky held a promise of rain, it would remain dry for the rest of the day. The overall gloom wasn't inviting us to leave the cozy confines of our cottage. However, I'd promised my colleague to pay a visit to a little chapel called Ons Heerens Boompje, which literally translates as Our Lord's little tree.

Although it's within walking distance from our cottage - a walk we did a couple of times over the years - we decided to drive part of the way, along a bumpy unsurfaced road, and park on the chapel's tiny car park in the middle of the fields. The eagle-eyed among you might spot our car in the far distance in the photo on the top left. On the bottom right, across the fields, one can spot the stand of poplar trees belonging to the domain surrounding our cottage.

From the car park, it's another 100 metres or so through the fields, until a narrow gravel path running along a hedge veers off to the left. At the end of this, the little chapel is waiting, sheltered by the black poplar which is the last so-called "fetish tree" in West Flanders, legend of which goes back 400 years. 

The hawthorn hedge surrounding the chapel is hung with ribbons of fabric, and indeed whole garments of any shape and size, since legend has it that this would make fever, pain and ailments go away.

My colleague asked me to hang up a pair of socks belonging to her Mum and, while we were there, we also added a handkerchief belonging to Jos, burning a votive candle for good measure.

Before retiring inside for the rest of the day, me and my assistant made some photos of my outfit, featuring my chocolate brown polka-dot maxi skirt from C&A and charity shopped zig-zag patterned t-shirt, last worn together in July.

A granite grey sky greeted us when we drew back the curtains on Tuesday. Fortunately, the clouds seemed to be holding their breaths for now, apparently not wishing to disrupt our plans for that morning.

On Monday evening, Jos's daughter An had messaged us, telling us she'd read that a new viewpoint had been opened in Poperinge that very day: a 6-metre high metal tower looking out over the hop fields belonging to hop farm Belhop.

Having holidayed here so many times, I was familiar with the name Belhop. What's more, we could actually see a corner of one of their hop fields from our balcony. In fact, if we leaned slightly over our balcony's railing, we were able to spot the tower half-hidden by some trees.

Despite it being only a hop, skip and a jump away, we took the car and parked on the premises of the farm, after which we proceeded to climb the tower for a bird's eye view of the hop field. 

And look what we spotted through one of the viewers mounted on top of the tower! It's the little chapel we visited on Monday!

Mission accomplished, we drove to Poperinge for a rummage at the local charity shop, the first drops of mizzly rain starting to fall when we stepped out of our car.

Contrary to their colleagues the weather gods, the gods of the charity shops were on their best behaviour that day and gifted me this fabulous needlecord maxi dress. I also found a retro-style blouse, which I promise to style for you soon.

We were back at our cottage for lunch when the rain started coming down in earnest. 

As according to our weather app it would rain for the rest of the afternoon, we needed to find an indoor activity. Having exhausted almost all rainy weather options over the years, it was almost a given that it would be something we'd done before. 

Our destination of choice: the Jules Destrooper Visitors Centre in Lo-Reninge, which is Belgium's smallest city but one, having gained city rights as recent as 1985.

In different rooms, the rich history of the family business and the art of biscuit making in general is laid out, followed by the serious business of biscuit tasting at the end.

We were debating whether to buy the biscuit patterned umbrella but ultimately decided against it. We soon realized the error of our ways when we stepped back outside ...

The rain clouds eventually departed elsewhere that evening, making way for some golden sunlight to end the day with.

The sun was up bright and early again on Wednesday morning, although there was a strong wind that kept the temperature firmly in check just under 20°C.

Another day, another tower to climb!

We'd driven by this tower sitting forlornly in a field for many years, wondering about its purpose. Finally, all became clear last year, although we still hadn't managed to visit.

The so-called German tower from the Second World War was restored and opened to the public in May 2025, exactly 80 years after the end of the war. 

It is one of the few remaining visible traces of the air war in Poperinge during the Second World War. The 13-metre-high tower was built by the Germans as an observation tower for Flugplatz Peselhoek, a 125-hectare airfield that was never used.

See-through metal steps - not exactly my thing as I suffer from vertigo - climb up to a viewing platform at the top. Thankfully there are stops at every floor, where rooms with solid floors offer information on the history of the tower.

In 1942, the site was converted into a vegetable garden to provide food supplies, while during the Cold War, the Belgian army used the tower as an observation post for the Air Defence Service. 

The views from the top were magnificent, even if they were accompanied by a soundtrack conducted by a stormy wind.

Our stomachs were in need of sustenance by the time we were back on solid ground, so our next stop was Poperinge's town centre, where we managed to grab a table at restaurant Goeste.

The afternoon was spent visiting the Hop Museum in Poperinge, which is housed in the former municipal hop warehouses. It is the only museum in Belgium devoted entirely to the cultivation and culture of hops, offering four floors of local hop-growing history and Belgian beer culture.

Poperinge has been the centre of Belgian hop production for centuries, and the town has been hosting a three-yearly hop festival in September, a tradition started exactly 70 years ago, in 1956. This year's edition would be the 26th, and would take place from 18 until 20 September.

Preparations were already in full swing ...

Back at the cottage, there was a very fitting end to this "hoppy" day, as much to our delight hop picking had started in the field across the road!

I hope you enjoyed tagging along with me? I promise to be back with part 2, including my birthday shenanigans, soon.