Hop fields and artworks

Oh my, how time flies! When I last posted, I'd just finished packing our bags for our week away, and here I am two weeks later, our holiday having whizzed by in the blink of an eye. 

I've been back on the hamster wheel since Tuesday,with the inevitable chaos I returned to at work having already sapped a large portion of the energy I'd gathered while we were away. Now, I'm finally sitting down and making a start with my travelogue, hoping to revive some of it while I'm reliving it all, one perfect day at a time. And perfect it definitely was, even if the weather gods did their best to throw one or two spanners in the works. 

My holiday wardrobe was built around a handful of maxi skirts, which I wore on ration, and a selection of short-sleeved tops and long-sleeved blouses to meet with all kinds weather, plus a cardigan or two for layering. 

The sturdy denim skirt I travelled in, which has two generous slits at the sides, was a second-hand find from the Shropshire Cat Rescue charity shop in Shrewsbury in June 2022. The  yellow patterned Wow To Go blouse was a local charity shop find in February 2024. 

After a reasonably straightforward drive of just under two hours, we arrived in Poperinge mid-afternoon on Saturday the 30th of August. We'd stopped at the local supermarket to buy the ingredients for our evening meal and breakfast before making our way to our long-time happy place, Marjolein Guesthouse. 

No matter how many times we've been here, our hearts are always making leaps of joy when we open the cottage's French windows to step onto the balcony with its enchanting view across the domain and the patchwork fields of the landscape beyond. It was looking particularly painterly with a congregation of white clouds scudding across a blue sky.

It's easy to ignore the often busy road at the front, leading to border town Watou, at this time of year mostly frequented by agricultural traffic bringing in the harvest. As usual, hop picking hadn't yet started in the fields across the road, but as we have learned that hops are a crop which is regular as clockwork, we knew it would only be a matter of days before we'd spot the familiar red hop picking machine.

Marjolein Guesthouse might have made its first appearance here on the blog in September 2016, our initial visit was four years prior, in 2012. As our first journey here was nothing if not traumatic, it is testimony to the charm of the cottage and the area in general that we kept returning again and again and that we were now here for the 15th time.

Ready for a trip down memory lane?

Down memory lane ...

Setting the time machine's control for 2012, we won't forget our very first trip to Poperinge in a hurry.

Here we were trundling along the motorway when, just after passing the city of Ghent, our car - a pea green Renault Twingo - gave up on us. Thankfully, Jos had the presence of mind to steer her towards the hard shoulder. As we have breakdown insurance, we made a phone-call and soon one of their mechanics pulled up in front of us. I remained in the car, and in my mind's eye I can still see him opening the bonnet, taking one look and slowly shaking his head. The verdict, which sealed our car's lot, was that the timing belt had broken.

The upside was that the insurance covered a replacement car for five days, which was exactly the length of our holiday. Still, it was hours later than planned and with shattered nerves that we drove through the cottage's gates for the very first time!

Now, let's return to the here and now, or rather, to Sunday the 31st of August.

Drawing our curtains, we were delighted to see the landscape beyond our window bathed in golden early morning sunshine. Sadly, our luck wouldn't last, as an army of angry-looking clouds was doing away with the last traces of blue while we were having breakfast. Sure enough, it didn't take long for them to release their liquid load.

We had plans for the afternoon, but nothing was set in stone for the morning, so we decided to stay put until the rain clouds had departed elsewhere. According to the weather app on Jos's phone, their departure would be imminent ... 

When, finally, by late morning, the rain had been reduced to a light drizzle, we grabbed our coats and umbrellas and drove to Poperinge - our cottage is on the outskirts of the town - for our usual exploratory stroll.

Having parked our car around the corner, we made our way to the Grote Markt (market square). Before we reached our destination, however, it started raining more heavily again, which made us duck into a doorway at the side of the town hall. Here, the prison cells - dating from 1913 - and execution pole in the courtyard beyond can be visited. During World War I, many Belgian, British and French soldiers spent one or more nights here. They were mostly sentenced for drunkenness or for staying away from their quarters. 

For some soldiers, however, this was death row. It was where they spend their last hours, waiting to be executed. At least four soldiers were executed here and in one of the cells there's a very haunting cinematic impression of a soldier waiting to be shot at dawn.

The rain seemed to have taken a brief respite while we'd been inside, so we continued to the Grote Markt which turned out to be partially cordoned off due to a festival which had taken place on Friday and Saturday. 

Most of the cafés lining the square seemed to be closed as well, and as we weren't prepared to join the posse of cyclists which had descended on the terrace of the only one which was in business, we decided to forego refuelling with our usual cups of cappuccino.

We walked as far as Talbot House to photograph its façade and front door (above, top right) for Jos's daughter An who is about to check in there as we speak. By now, the rain clouds were back from their break with a vengeance ...  

Returning to our car, we were thankful we'd brought our umbrellas. Nevertheless, I might have been tempted by one of those see-through ones if the shop in question hadn't been closed on a Sunday.

Back at the cottage, we had sandwiches washed down with glasses of non-alcoholic beer while watching the comings and goings of the waterfowl on the pond. 

The rain clouds having finally tired themselves out, a blue sky reigned once more, even if the mercury wouldn't climb beyond 20°C that day. 

Then, after a little siesta, we were ready for our afternoon activity. Just a 5-minute drive up the road from Marjolein, we first visited Museumhuis Lucien De Gheus  on the last day of last year's holiday.

We'd vowed to return this year, and as it is only open on weekend afternoons in the Summer months, this lazy Sunday afternoon, with all of our holiday still in front of us, sounded like the perfect opportunity.

The museum is located in the house of local sculptor and ceramist Lucien De Gheus (1927-2013), who was successful in the post-war fifties and sixties, his main oeuvre consisting of sculpture, ceramic objects and bas-reliefs. 

By will Lucien De Gheus left his house and possessions to the foundation Private Stichting Lucien De Gheus – Druant, in order to open up his artistic legacy to the public. He also stipulated that the foundation promoted contemporary art by organizing Summer exhibitions.

This year's exhibition was called Keikoppen, which translates as cobble heads, the nickname of the inhabitants of Poperinge, and a symbol of stubbornness and resilience.

The work of the 30 contemporary artists which comprises this year's exhibition is dotted all over the house and garden, cheek to jowl with Lucien's prolific output.

Above, top left: 2023 IV, 2023 by Leyla Aydoslu

Above, top bottom right: Brick Cast Planter, 2024 by Bram Vanderbeke

Above, bottom left: Twigs, 2025, made in situ by the artist Filip Dujardin

There's a large studio in the garden which showcases some of Lucien's work, a sample of all the artistic disciplines he excelled in : stained glass, paintings, glazed tiles, ceramics and furniture to name but a few.

There were some textiles on show among the artist's tools in the picturesque little shed.

The house, which was designed and built by the artist himself, was meant to be a sculptor’s home right from the start, with a large and high hall/exposition area, a heatable winter studio and a summer studio with high windows to the north to let in neutral light.  

The artwork on the work bench is by Edith Dekyndt, who created it especially for this exhibition, using one of the leftover pieces of wood stacked in Lucien's atelier and adding a digitally created mask, blurring nature and technology in the process.

The artwork I'm studying (above, top right) is called Courtyard Tales III (2017-2018) and is by Berlinde De Bruyckere. If her name sounds familiar, it is she of the giant maces in Middelheim sculpture park.

The felt and plaster hand is by Helena Cnockaert and the drawings on the bottom left are by Ante Timmermans.

Before venturing into the artist's eclectic home itself, we made use of the honesty bar and rested our feet at one of the little tables dotted around the garden. The non-alcoholic lager available was called Cristal and sadly it doesn't come recommended as it was utterly tasteless. Still refreshing, though, but we could have had water instead ...

We absolutely love the juxtaposition of the various works of art with the paraphernalia of daily life as lived by Lucien and his wife Suzanne, who moved into the house in August 1962 and stayed there until their deaths, in 2012 and 2013 respectively.

On the top right is another artwork belonging to the exhibtion. The rust steel structure is called Fireworks model 48 and is by Muller Van Severen, a Belgian duo creating sculpturally interesting furniture objects.

The tiny sculptures on the shelves in the centre of the collage are prototypes for the sculpture of Master Ghybe - a folkloristic figure dating back to the Middle Ages - which has been taking pride of place on Poperinge's Grote Markt since 2005.

Returning to our temporary home, we made a little detour to Nine Elms British Cemetery, one of the plethora of Commonwealth War Graves around here, which unfortunately was closed off due to restoration. That'll be for next year then!

Before calling it a day - and refuelling our energies for Monday's activities - let me show you what I was wearing. 

Embroidered linen maxi skirt: Zara Summer sales 2022

King Louie short-sleeved floral jumper, waterfall cardigan and wooden necklace: charity shopped

Belt: Think Twice

Golden ballerinas: gift from a friend

See you soon!

Of frogs and towers

Hello friends and readers, and welcome to the third and final episode of my mini-travelogue. Thank you for bearing with me while I've spent the past week recovering from last Sunday's flea market - which went well, by the way! - and - yes, I admit - honing my procrastination habits! I had Monday off which meant a lot of catching up at the office on Tuesday. And then I had to go into the office for a couple of hours on my usual Friday off as my colleague is currently on holiday. 

But it's time I get my skates on, as my blog has only just passed the month of June's half-way point, with our week away slowly but surely receding into the mists of time.

Wednesday - we were the 18th of June by now - promised to be another day during which the sun would be working overtime and on which the temperature would easily reach the forecasted highs of 25°C.

Our view towards the Franco-Flemish hills was bathed in a veil of haze and much to our surprise the resident heron wasn't joining us for breakfast at its usual hour. In its place on the tangle of dead branches a cormorant sat drying its wings after its morning catch of fish (above, top left). Its toilette completed, the majestic bird flew off, its place swiftly taken over by the heron, with whom it must have had some sort of agreement.

Both our breakfast and toilette completed, we were ready for the day's adventure! Armed with another picnic and a walking map of the area we got into our car and drove to De Palingbeek. At over 230 hectares, this is the largest Provincial Domain in the West of Flanders, situated on the outskirts of Ypres, and just over 20 kilometers from Poperinge.

There are several car parks to start one's walk from but, just like we did on our previous visit in September 2023, we opted for the easy-to-find one near the domain's visitor centre. After finding a shady spot for our car, we confidently set off on our intended walk. But not before having a nosey in the Bijenhal (bee hall), an educational apiary comprising of five hives maintained by the local beekeepers' association. With the ecological kitchen gardens on their doorstep, the bees are definitely living their best lives!

After leaving the bee hall, we had our first hurdle at the first numbered marker we came across: the number 62 it was directing us to seemed to be missing on our map! With our tendency of getting lost even with the aid of a map this would have been a recipe for disaster! Thankfully, the visitor centre came to our rescue with a more recent version of our hopelessly outdated map.

That settled, we started walking into the direction of the now no longer elusive number 62, when we were  temporarily distracted by the deafening sound of loudly croaking frogs emanating from a duckweed covered pool. Any attempts to try and catch some of the creatures on camera was futile, so I made a little video for you to enjoy! Make sure to crank up the volume!

De Palingbeek is a patchwork of pools and marshes, old and young woodlands, orchards and flower meadows, lawns and playgrounds. Obviously we were keen to avoid the latter, so we mainly kept to the woodland paths, where we encountered plenty of wildlife which, apart from the noisy gang of frogs and a plethora of songbirds, were mostly of the carved wood variety.

Apparently, there are 3000 different species of animals who have made the Palingbeek their habitat. Each year one of these is picked as "animal of the year", the lucky one in 2025 being the frog!

As lunchtime was fastly approaching we were desperate for a sit-down and a bite to eat, so we started looking for a suitable bench to have our picnic on, our only condition being that it was in a quiet and shady spot. 

Consulting our map, we saw that we were nearing Astrolab Iris, an observatory located within the domain, the map showing a small area with picnic tables opposite the building itself. Much to our dismay, though, the only table in the shade was taken up by a French couple playing a game of cards. But then we found a completely deserted table, which could easily accomodate a dozen people, in the observatory building's courtyard. We were just about to unpack our picnic when one of the domain's gardeners turned up, soon to be followed by his colleagues. Not wanting to rob them of their designated spot for lunch, we packed up and continued our search.

We finally found our shady bench opposite Hedge Row Trench Cemetery, one of the Commonwealth War Cemeteries within the domain. We'd been here before, in September 2023, when we approached it from a different direction. Back then, there was a row of haversacks displayed on pedestals next to the cemetery, each containing the personal belongings of a fallen soldier buried here. The items were preserved behind plastic: a white handkerchief, a field shovel, a water bottle, a tin of corned beef and a torch to name but a few. These were now gone, so that at first I thought this was a different cemetery altogether.

There is indeed yet another military cemetery a hundred meters or so down a grassy path from Hedge Row Trench. This is First DCLI Cemetery, The Bluff, which takes its name from the Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry. 

The narrow ridge known as The Bluff was one of the few places where the Allies held higher ground than their opponents. For this reason, at the end of 1915 and throughout 1916, the Germans attempted to capture the position.  As a result, it was the scene of several underground explosions and heavy fighting, culminating on 25 July 1916 in a massive explosion which blew away the top of the mound and replied by the British in December 1916 with mines of their own. 

The burials here, a total of 76, with 13 of them unidentified, date from April-July 1915.

A quick look at my outfit before we continue our walk. My beloved chambray skirt came out to play again, this time paired with a zig-zag patterned top charity shopped last Summer. The green stretchy belt with its bamboo buckle was a high street shop sales bargain a year earlier.

Emerging from the woods, we were faced with a patchwork of fields which offered a view of the towers of Ypres (above, top right). A sandy path meandered along the fields until, shortly before reaching our final destination at the infamous number 62, we came across a grassy area presided over by a rather splendid wooden owl sculpture.

While Jos was resting his feet on a conveniently placed - and shady - bench, I decided to keep the owl company by reclining on the grass.

Our walk completed without any further hiccups - miracles do happen! - we returned to the cottage for a well-deserved siesta. 

By then, we still hadn't heard back from my brother and his girlfriend. But then it suddenly dawned on me that one of my brother's friends had once supplied me with his girlfriend's phone number. Just as notorious as my brother for her aversion to mobile phones, I nevertheless decided to take my chances and sent her a message ...

Our evening meal that day was a delicious cold platter we'd picked up at a small local supermarket, consisting of baked salmon, hard boiled eggs, potato salad and plenty of veggies. Yummy! 

The weather gods had cranked up the thermostat to 27°C on Thursday. We had plans of a different kind that day, for which we drove down (or rather, up) to the Kemmelberg, at 156 meters the highest hill in Flanders. Courtesy of another batch of diversion caused by roadworks, our Satnav finally managed to get us to our destination in a roundabout way. I decided I would be able to do better on our return journey, and I actually did!

Our destination was the Belvédère  observation tower, which is the undisputed eye-catcher at the top of the hill. A previous attempt to visit the tower a couple of years ago was thwarted by the fact that it was closed at the time because the restaurant it belonged to was declared bankrupt. 

I was happy to read that last year the owner of the property and the municipality of Heuvelland (the collective name of the eight villages lying in the hilly country south of Poperinge) had come to an agreement so that the tower could once again be opened to the public.

Climbing the enclosed winding concrete staircase wasn't a problem for vertigo-suffering yours truly, but I instantly experienced the tell-tale wobbly legs even as we emerged on the loggia beneath the actual platform on top. Still, I forced myself to get my act together and climb on.

170 metres above sea level, the views are breathtaking.  You can see as far as 40 km and even further with the binoculars supplied, although it was a tad too hazy for a clear view.

Reading that the restaurant has recently been taken over and re-opened, and that the owners have plans to restore the tower to its former glory, we were glad to have made the effort, as it might well be closed for the duration next time we're here.

Before we descend to ground level once more, here's a potted history of the tower. From the late 19th century onwards, the West Flemish hill country became popular as a tourist region. The area was mainly visited by the bourgeoisie from northern France - we are just a stone's throw from the border here - and in 1889, a picturesque observation tower was built on top of the Kemmelberg.  This was a brick tower topped with a wooden platform and a bear cage built into its base as an additional attraction. 

After being destroyed during the First World War, the tower was rebuilt in 1924, together with an adjoining house and taproom. The Belvédère observation tower was listed as a monument in 2004.

My outfit, consisting of my fast fashion turned slow jumpsuit which has been going strong since its purchase in 2018, was selected especially to climb those stairs!

Back on safe ground, we paid a brief visit to the 18 metre-high column, popularly known as "The Angel", a French memorial erected in 1932 to commemorate the heavy fighting which took place here in April 1918. 

 

Then we retrieved our picnic from the car and embarked on a short numbered walk of just over one kilometre. Well, short it may very well have been, but we're talking about Flanders' highest hill here, and what goes down must come up! And there wasn't a single bench to have our picnic on either ...

We did make a slight detour to the row of bunkers below the Lettenberg - a spur of the Kemmelberg - which was the most important British observation post in the sector. Towards the end of 1916, British engineers and tunnellers started excavating an underground headquarters complex here. The concrete bunkers which gave access to these have now been restored. There are four shelters built in reinforced concrete. 

Back at the car, we decided against having a car picnic and drove back to the cottage instead, installing ourselves on the rustic wooden chairs beneath the balcony. The perfect place for a picnic in the shade!

It was while we were having our usual siesta that I finally heard back from my brother's girlfriend. Apparently they were no longer at the brewery complex, having found a place in the south of France where they will be staying until November. Donna, you were right! And no, I've no idea why my brother never told me. Even my sister, whom he is much closer to in age, wasn't aware of his whereabouts ...

Suitably restored after our siesta, we drove down to Poperinge as we both had a craving for waffles!

And then our final day dawned! With temperatures nudging 30°C, which unfortunately triggered one of my migraines, it was to be a day of indolence. After stocking up on more of those delicious cold platters - the baked salmon substituted by smoked salmon and fresh asparagus rolled in ham respectively - we didn't leave the cottage again until mid-afternoon, having another picnic beneath the balcony (above, top left and centre). 

After a leisurely stroll through Poperinge's Dirk Frimout park (named after a local astronaut who was the first Belgian in space), we plonked ourselves down on the terrace of one of the cafés lining the market square, where we enjoyed a dish of cheese cubes and some alcohol free beers.

As we will be back here in the first week of September - at that time just under two and a half months away - we weren't feeling as wistful as we usually do when watching the world go by on our little balcony that evening.

Goodbye, lawnmowers, we will be back soon!

Escape to Pop

With heatwave temperatures reaching their highest peak of well over 35°C just as I was about to return to work, it was all I could do to try and keep up with blogland by reading and commenting on posts from my airconditioned office. 

Returning home on an overheated tram on Tuesday the 1st of July, when the mercury went berserk and climbed to 38°C, spontaneous combustion was imminent. With my sluggish brain struggling just to put my body through the motions, it was clear that making a start with my mini-travelogue wasn't on the cards just yet!

We're now back to much more comfortable temperatures so, without further ado, here's what we have been up to, starting with Sunday the 15th of June: the day we made our escape to Pop.

We'd already experienced a minor heatwave, with a handful of +30° degrees days, just before our departure, so we were glad it had cooled down to the low 20s by the time we waved goodbye to an unsuspecting Bess just after Sunday lunch time.

Poperinge is only an hour and a half's drive from Dove Cottage, however, due to a series of roadworks, both on the motorway and in Poperinge itself, it was nearly 3 pm before we drove through the ornate wrought iron gates which give access to our cottage.

But before I show you around, let's have a look at my outfit! 

I'd picked up the tiered chambray maxi dress from C&A on Friday. We'd only gone in to buy Jos a new pair of trousers, but ... well, I guess I don't have to explain that resistance is futile when a girl serendipitously stumbles upon one of her holy grails ... 

So, the cottage! This was our 14th visit and, as I've been blogging about our September holidays here since 2016, it will be familiar to all of you who've been reading my blog for any amount of time. Nevertheless, our hearts always make a leap of joy when we climb the stairs leading to the compact first floor studio above the owner's car port and walk through its front door. It's a homecoming each and every time!

Until now, we'd only been here in September, so that our mid-June visit did feel a bit weird at first. The hops growing in the the field across the road hadn't reached the top of their poles by a long way yet and there wasn't that unmistakable hint of approaching Autumn that usually lingers over the landscape.

We never tire of the view from the cottage's French window and balcony, across the domain's picturesque lake which is its indisputable focal point, towards the patchwork of fields and the gently undulating Franco-Flemish hills beyond. We are, by the way, only about six kilometers from the French border here!

Inside too, the cottage is an oasis of calm, its minimalist interior the polar opposite of Dove Cottage's maximalist extravaganza. Immediately upon entering one is faced with a cosy two-chair sitting corner, opposite which is a dressing area offering plenty of storage space and including a rail with several wooden hangers, deep shelving which runs all the way under the sloping roof and a couple of handy wicker baskets.

There's a compact kitchen block, coffee and tea making facilities and a SMEG fridge. The kitchen block separates the breakfast nook-with-a-view from a sitting area with sofa, coffee table and television.

At the far end of the cottage is a comfortable box spring bed with two low wooden side tables serving as nightstands. Behind the frosted glass door at the bottom of the bed is the compact yet fully equipped bathroom, with plenty of shelving and a endless supply of super soft towels.

Having reacquainted ourselves with the cottage, we dragged our luggage from the boot of the car and up the stairs - a workout included in the rent - after which we sat down for a restorative cup of coffee accompanied with the chocolates provided by owner Marino.

Then it was time to drive over to Poperinge itself - the cottage is on the outskirts of the town, about two and a half kilometers from the town centre - for a leg-stretching stroll.

Taking pride of place on the Grote Markt (market square) is its town hall. Built of buttery brick and with its decorative arches and stone carvings, it looks considerably older than its years. In fact, it was built in neo-Gothic style as recently as 1911 by the architect who was also responsible for the reconstruction of Ypres after the Great War.

Ah, the Great War! It is never far away in the area which is commonly known as Flanders Fields, where  remnants and reminders of the World War I battlefields are lurking around every corner.

Poperinge's wartime history reads a little different from most Flemish towns as it remained virtually unoccupied during WWI, offering a place where soldiers could escape from the horrors of war.

In 1915, a soldier's club, now known as Talbot House, was opened by British army chaplain Philip Clayton, after which Poperinge - which was nicknamed "Pop" by the British troupes - became the hub for entertainment. Soldiers of every rank could have some carefree fun here and unwind for a while. We visited Talbot House back in 2016, 2021 and 2024.

Directly opposite the town hall is Poperinge's war memorial. The bronze statue depicts a soldier carrying a banner and a rifle, while on smaller pediments are the statues of a boy presenting a palm branch and a girl presenting a garland of flowers.

The memorial records the names of 130 Belgian soldiers who were killed during the Great War, with the lower panels listing the Second World War casualties. More names are to be found on plaques on the wall behind the memorial, and there are two panels containing the names of civilians killed during the Great War (above, right). The plague on the left honours both the French and British soldiers which were killed in defence of the town during the Great War.

Time for a lighter note, which is provided by the sculpture of Master Ghybe: a folkloristic figure dating back to the Middle Ages and the symbol of the competition in the cloth industry between the towns of Poperinge and Ypres.  

Master Ghybe is pretty much the Don Quixote of Poperinge. He sat backwards on a donkey with an 83-pound cobble on a cushion in front of him. He wore pots and pans as his armour and was armed with a ladle and a spit. Along with his followers, who were dressed exactly like him, he walked in processions and parades. The name Ghybe was not chosen at random, it was actually a reference to the three great rival cities: Ghent, Ypres and Bruges. Master Ghybe's donkey represents Flanders, which wasn't considered well governed. The cobble he carried became the symbol of the people of Poperinge, who to this day proudly carry the nickname of "keikoppen" (transl. cobble heads).

The sculpture, which was revealed in 2005, is by local sculptor and ceramist Lucien De Gheus (1927-2013), whose house and workplace - now a museum - we had the pleasure of visiting last September.

The church which is Master Ghybe's backdrop in the photo on the left is St-Bertinus church, Poperinge's main church and at the same time its oldest.  

It is dedicated to Saint Bertinus, who was the abbot of the abbey of Saint-Omer (about 55 kilometers away, in the North of France) in the seventh century. Originally the church was a Romanesque cross church built in 1147, but it was destroyed by arson fire in 1419 by a group of supporters of the Duke of Orleans. 

In 1420, abbot Akkard Trubert commissioned the rebuilding of St-Bertinus church, this time in a Gothic style as a Flemish hall church. This type of church, which is particularly common in Flanders, has a nave and aisles of roughly the same height, creating a spacious, hall-like interior. They often feature a single, large roof covering the entire width of the church.

Of special note are the artistic wood carvings, in particular in the richly sculpted Baroque pulpit which dates from 1710 and originates from the Dominican monastery in Bruges. It is considered one of the most beautiful in Belgium. It was purchased by the church council and transferred here in 1806. During the First World War, the pulpit was safely stored in Paris.

Couleur locale can be found in the hop cones in the rood screen (below, top left).

The church has modern stained glass windows (1980), designed by Arno Brys (°1928), in the main and side choirs. He also created the stunning stained glass window (1970) we admired last year in the assembly hall in the restored Cloth Hall in Ypres.  

Hidden away in a delightfully dilapidated corner of the church is this rather splendid painted wood sculpture dating from the early 18th Century depicting the Entombment of Christ.

After leaving the church, we returned to our car, which we'd parked just around the corner from the Grote Markt. 

But not before stocking up on Mini Magnum ice creams at the Carrefour Express supermarket in the square, which later that evening we enjoyed while sitting on our balcony and watching the world go by.

Or rather, in this case, the wildlife on the lake and the domain's four lawnmowers who, regular as clockwork, always turned up at owner Marino's house next door to the cottage for their evening treat at around 7 pm.

 

That night - and on all subsequent nights - we fell asleep to the chorus of frogs who were having their nightly lakeside rehearsals. 

You are welcome to join me again for episode # 2 in a couple of days!