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!

Heatwave holiday - Part 2

Things were definitely heating up as our holiday week progressed: the weather forecast for Tuesday 5 September spoke of full-on sunshine and temperatures exceeding 30°C. 

At this time of year, at least, we were guaranteed slightly cooler nights, but sleeping was still a sweat fest in spite of the fact that we kept the French windows open all night.

Consulting our weather app in the morning, we learned that our best bet would be a trip to the seaside, where a mild sea breeze would halt the mercury in its tracks just under the dreaded 30°C mark. So, that was our destination for the day sorted!

The nearest seaside resort to our holiday cottage is De Panne. Lying at the western end of Belgium's straight 67 kilometres long coastline, it is almost literally a stone's throw from the border with France.

Much head scratching ensued when our Satnav made us drive on minor country lanes which were definitely not taking us into the direction of the main road to the coast. In fact, we were dumbfounded when we suddenly found ourselves in France! But our Satnav seemed to be knowing her way around and eventually we made it to De Panne, and the free car park we have been using for many years. Formerly free car park, I should add, as a Pay and Display machine had materialized in our absence. 

Having parked, paid and displayed, we walked around the corner and took the tram for a couple of stops until we were within easy access of the promenade. 

In spite of the perfect weather conditions, both promenade and beach weren't exactly jam-packed, which would have been quite a different story in the Summer holidays or during sunny weekends. In fact, you might be forgiven for thinking that we had the place completely to ourselves, the odd paddling gull notwithstanding!

The tide was out, leaving a wide expanse of beach we had to traverse until the shoreline with its gently lapping waves was reached.

Swiftly removing our shoes, we followed the gulls' example and dipped our toes into the salty water. Then, slowly but surely the tide started turning so that soon the water reached beyond our ankles. Jos was obliged to roll up his trouser legs, while I tucked my tiered skirt into my knickers!  

And so we walked on, with the waves following each other in swift succession and increasing force, until we were parallel with a break in the row of unappealing apartment buildings lining the promenade. The bane, unfortunately, of most of Belgium's coastal resorts.

We walked back to the promenade over the rippled wet sand, followed by a final stretch of sun-kissed golden sand untouched by the tide which dusted our feet as if sprinkled with flour. 

Sitting on a bench, we tried to brush off most of it, which proved a nearly impossible task: we could feel it squishing between our toes for the rest of the day.

De Panne's brightly striped deckchairs and windbreakers and old-fashioned bathing huts are reminiscent of a Victorian seaside postcard.  Although I have taken countless photographs of these over the years, I couldn't resist trudging up to them for some more, with the warm fine sand slopping over the tops of my Cloudsteppers. Jos was far more sensible and waited for my return on a shady bench.

It was well past midday by now and our stomachs were ready for some sustenance. However, it seems that we'd picked an awkward time for our visit as our favourite restaurant along with many others happened to be closed on a Tuesday.

We finally managed to grab a table on the terrace of Le Beaulieu, which turned out to be a cut above  some of the other eateries lining the Promenade. Our waiter - like most of the workforce here - was French, with just a limited grasp of Flemish, resulting in a minor mix-up in the order of the Dutch people sitting at the table next to ours.

After lunch, we strolled along the promenade. Then, while Jos once again rested his feet in the shade, I briefly ventured a bit further afield to admire some of the coastal architecture from yesteryear which is still hanging on for dear life among the concrete jungle.

However, it was far too hot to trawl the streets of the Dumont quarter, a gem of architectural heritage built between the late 19th and early 20th Century which has been protected since 1995. Next time, perhaps ...

There was no escaping the heat on Wednesday 6 September, as the mercury now refused to descend from its lofty +30°C height.

My floaty chambray midi skirt, which had already more than proved its worth in Shropshire, came out to play again. I paired it with a charity shopped floral top by King Louie, accessorized with a yellow cat brooch. The belt was an old retail buy.  I removed the necklace - another charity shop find - after the photo was taken, as I knew it would bother me while out walking.

We looked for the largest patch of dark green - indicating wooded areas - on our walking map and found it in De Palingbeek, at over 230 hectares the largest Provincial Domain in the West of Flanders.

We'd walked here twice before, starting from a different car park, which our Satnav had us drive around in circles to find back in 2020. Now, we opted to start from the car park near the domain's visitors centre and, although we started our journey with some trepidation, I'm happy to report Ms. Satnav was well behaved this time around.

Our intended walk took us past the ecological kitchen gardens which are part of the domain after which we followed a succession of woodland paths until we arrived at a clearing in the woods. Here a bittersweet surprise in the form of one of the area's many WWI cemeteries awaited us.

Hedge Row Trench Cemetery was begun in March 1915 and was used until August 1917. The layout of the cemetery is rather unusual. During the war, the site suffered so much from shell fire that the positions of the individual graves couldn’t be reconstructed. The headstones are now arranged  around the Cross of Sacrifice, with the circle serving as a symbol for the large amount of craters caused by mine explosions in the area. 98 Commonwealth soldiers are buried here. 

Hundreds of military cemeteries arose in Flanders Fields after the First World War, reminding us of the staggering human toll the conflict took. 27 of the area's WWI sites - alongside a further 112 in Wallonia and France -  have finally been added to UNESCO ‘s World Heritage List earlier this week, Hedge Row Trench Cemetery being one of them.

Next to the cemetery, a row of haversacks are displayed on pedestals. They contain the personal belongings of a fallen soldier buried here. The items are 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. 

The display definitely added to veil of unspeakable sadness which hung over the site.

Leaving the cemetery behind us, we rejoined the shady woodland path. 

The patches of bright blue sky and the persistent rays of sunshine which tried to reach us through the the leafy canopy of the trees belied the fact that we were on the cusp of Autumn and that these Indian Summer days might very well have been Summer's swan song. 

There were plenty of benches offering picnic opportunities, so we soon found a shady one for our picnic of ham and cheese sandwiches. Then, after negotiating a cattle grid, we spotted the art installation Coming World Remember Me (below, top right) in the distance. Created by artist Koen Vanmechelen, it originally consisted of 600.000 clay figures sculptured by people from across the globe, representing the 600.000 victims who lost their lives as a result of WWI in Belgium.

One would think that making use of a walking map based on numbered markers is very much like painting by numbers. However, it does require navigational skills, particularly as some of the markers have been placed in such a way that their instructions are somewhat ambiguous. So, it wasn't entirely our self-confessed topographical disorientation which was to blame for the fact that we didn't end up at number 16 as intended. This left us no other option other than to return to the previous number for a second attempt. As we didn't exactly relish the detour in the heat, we breathed sighs of relief when we finally made it to the elusive number 16 post.

We were now at the highest point of the Palingbeek domain. Known to the British as "The Bluff", this 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, which was known to them as "Die Grosse Bastion". As a result, it was the scene of several underground explosions and heavy fighting. On 25 July 1916 a massive explosion blew away the top of the mound. In December 1916 the British replied with mines of their own, after which the area became an inaccessible quagmire of deep craters.

There's a pavillion here where you can watch a film about the build-up of the underground war on the battleground known as the southern Ypres Salient.

A couple of paces from the pavillion there's another sculpture by Koen Vanmechelen. This will eventually become the carrier of 600.000 personalized dog tacks (above, bottom left), each bearing the name of a WWI victim. The egg is symbolically protected by a nest of bronze chicken claws.

After having watched the film and rested our feet, the walk continued on a recently installed boardwalk path through the former No Man's Land and along various craters.

The sheep which have the privilege of calling this part of the domain their home were sheltering under the boardwalk and didn't seem to be all that bothered by our approach. 

The final stretch of the walk was mercifully downhill. Here woodland creatures were immortalized in wooden carvings. The hedgerows were full of juicy blackberries which we picked until the plastic tub formerly containing our picnic was filled to the brim.

Having made it back to the visitors centre, we purchased a bottle of ice-cold homemade apple juice to quench our thirst.

Needless to say it tasted quite heavenly after the day's exertions!