August, continued

In spite of my best intentions, it turns out that I seriously failed in wrapping up the month of August before we're off on our September holiday. Life, and in particular, work, has got a bit in the way this week, so that you'll have to do with just the one post instead of the two I kind of promised you. 

It'll be mainly outfits you'll get to see too, which I'm quite sure you won't mind. After all, back in the mist of time - about eight and a half years ago, to be exactly - this blog was started as a vintage and second-hand clothing inspired one!

There will be no less than eight outfits in this post, so do sit back, grab a drink and perhaps a little snack, and enjoy the ride.

We were blessed with some gorgeously sunny days and highs of 25°C in the first week of August, with the exception of Tuesday when the weather gods cranked up the heating to a sweltering 30°C.

I managed to stay relatively cool courtesy of a wildflower meadow and plenty of ice cream.

In a crisp floral cotton adorned with two fuchsia pink crocheted lace strips at the hem, the maxi skirt - a cheeky C&A buy in May 2022, is exactly the right length for me and an absolute joy to wear. It was joined by the green ice cream cone patterned Only t-shirt I charity shopped earlier this year.

A wide fuchsia pink suede belt (last year's Summer sale bargain) and charity shopped necklace and straw flower brooch completed my outfit.

Almost as certain as night follows day, a thunderstorm often follows in the wake of a hot Summer's day.

The rain continued into Wednesday morning before the sun did away with the clouds and warmed things up again to around 24°C.

The dress I was wearing that day is a bit of an oddity. In fact, it is more like a glorified apron than a dress, but just look at those details. I fell in love with its printed cotton fabric edged with red piping and that's before I noticed that it's got real pockets! 

However, its fabric was quite stiff, as it was probably starched within an inch of its life, so that wearing it felt like wearing a dress made of sandpaper. Nothing a spin in the washing machine couldn't rectify though!

Its accessories were mostly of the red variety to tie in with the red piping, although I did add a splash of blue by way of the vintage swallow brooch I found on that flea market in Middelburg at the end of July.

My red and cream slingback shoes had many admirers. They have been in my wardrobe for many years and although I know they were bought in the Summer sales, I actually don't remember where or when, which makes me think that it was pre-blog.

Friday was the start of another one of my three-day weekends, which have been nothing short of a blessing. Whenever I close the office door behind me of a Thursday evening, I'm glad that I finally took the plunge to apply for a so-called landing job, which enables employees to work only 4 days a week from age 60 onwards until they retire, with an additional bonus from the government for the 5th day.

Anyway, back to Friday the 9th of August, when I wore this skirt, which could very well end up being my most worn this Summer. Picked up from the Green Ice outlet shop near my office back in February, it accompanied me to Shropshire where I wore it twice, and it has now been added to next week's travelling wardrobe as well.

I found the brooch at the April edition of the indoor flea market, the necklace was a charity shop find, and the stretchy belt, one of the latest additions to my collection, came from a high street shop's closing down sale.

As our neighbour had received another delivery of building materials and we were expecting yet another round of neighbourly noise over the weekend, we plotted our escape.

Creatures of habit that we are, Saturday saw us driving over the border to Middelburg again. This time, though, we took a picnic as our plans involved going for a walk along the town's former defence bastions known as the bolwerken. But not before sampling a glass of that delicious non-alcoholic Trappist beer on the terrace of our favourite café!

It was while we are sitting there that Jos lamented the fact that he'd omitted to bring his jacket, which was still in the car. 

Rather than making another round trip to pick it up, we went to have a look in the gentlemen's outlet shop across the street, where we were overjoyed to find a fabulous blue, white striped linen-blend jacket from a high end label at a steeply reduced price. Happens to be that, after the demise of his charity shopped linen-blend H&M jacket we had been looking for something similar for absolutely ages!

Armed with the jacket as well as our picnic, we made our way towards the bolwerken, now filled with greenery and an oasis of calm and forming a green star around the town.

These elevated fortifications date from the 16th century and at the time provide a good view over the city in times of trouble. Around 1845, they were converted into a city park in English landscape style. With a total distance of 4 kilometres, it is one of the longest parks in the Netherlands. 

En route, we passed the Seismolen, a corn mill dating from 1728, which was actually working at the time of our visit, possibly in honour of the food truck festival which taking place nearby.

The path also skirted a Jewish cemetery, with a Jugendstil cleansing house dating from 1900. 

We left the bolwerken before reaching the end, preferring to make our way into the town centre via the Koepoort (Cow Gate) dating from 1735, the only surviving one of Middelburg's original eight town gates.

Before ending up at our favourite tearoom for cappuccinos and cakes, we briefly visited the Oostkerk

(East Church). Built in 1648, it is a prime example of Protestant Baroque architecture. The church has a distinctive octagonal shape and a domed tower. Nowadays, it is used for concerts, lectures and exhibitions.

After Saturday's intermezzo, it's back to more outfits. 

Sunday's was a viscose floral maxi skirt and striped frilly-sleeved top combo, both of which were supplied by the charity shops. The top is by high end label Essentiel Antwerp.

With its highs of 35°C, Monday was the hottest day of the year. As only the flimsiest of layers would do, I grabbed the recently charity shopped lightweight cotton Grace & Mila frock from its hanger. The necessary ventilation was provided by its floaty butterfly sleeves while supplying some coverage from the sun while on my way home.

It was still hot on Tuesday, although at 32°C slightly less so than on Monday. By the end of the day, I was feeling quite nauseous and the all-day aircon at the office had left both of my eyes dry and irritated, which no amount of lubricating eye drops was able to soothe. Consequently I wasn't in the mood for outfit photos and I actually haven't got the faintest idea what I was wearing that day.

Courtesy of an overnight thunderstorm it had cooled down to a more bearable 27°C on Wednesday, although I was still not feeling my best. 

I escaped the airconditioned office during lunch break for the usual mid-week cappuccinos with Inez at Think Twice's coffee corner.  Apparently, they'd repainted some of the walls in a moody charcoal grey, which I quite liked, but Inez didn't. The comfy chairs beneath the Billie Holiday lookalike with her vinyl hairdo is where we usually sit.

We had a whirlwind look at the rails and then walked to one of their other shops, which is virtually around the corner. Here I pounced upon a King Louie blouse, which you'll get to see in a minute.

The dress with its squiggly green stripes and solid white collar and cuffs was a Think Twice find in July 2023 and for once I didn't replace the self-fabric belt it came with. 

I'm a big lover of pink and green so the beaded necklace and plastic ring were no-brainers. As was the flower-embroidered brooch (this one) which I found in a Shrewsbury antiques centre in June 2019.

If you are wondering what Bess is looking at, this is where her food bowls usually are. We briefly removed them for the photos, which got her all confused.

Picking up the photo-bombing minx so that Jos could take a photo of the two of us wasn't much to madam's liking ...

Now you see us ...

... now you don't!

I absolutely love our new outfit photo spot in front of our vintage kitchen cupboard and I wonder why we didn't think of this before.

My final outfit dates from Thursday the 15th of August, which is a public holiday in Belgium, meaning that I had an extra day off.

Blue and green is another favourite combo of mine. Both colours come together in the King Louie pussy-bow blouse I found at Think Twice on Wednesday. The cotton Paisley print skirt was charity shopped last year, while the belt was a retail buy between Lockdowns in 2020. Can't get my head around the fact that this was four years ago already!

And now, if you'll excuse me, I've got packing to finish. The eternal dilemma on what to take!

Take care, and I'll see you on the other side!

Heatwave holiday - Part 3

Hello, and welcome to the final installment of this year's September holiday travelogue.

We were Thursday the 7th of September by now and the heatwave wasn't showing any sign of giving up just yet. We woke up to a brilliant blue sky, in which the sun was a searing orb intent on making us wilt at the mere thought of doing anything at all. But we had plans, and as luck would have it, they would require little or no effort from our side.

Back in March I'd received a message from my brother - in itself a bit of a rare occurrence - announcing that he and his girlfriend had moved to Belgium's west country. Intrigued, I messaged back, telling him that we had been spending the first of week of September in the area for many years. Turned out that he was living on an old brewery estate less than 10 minutes from our holiday cottage, upon which we agreed to meet up next time we were there.

We'd passed the imposing complex countless of times on our travels and had in fact already done so a couple of days earlier, when our Satnav directed us to the Belgian coast via France. But although I'd messaged my brother a week ahead of time informing him of the dates of our stay, we didn't hear back from him until halfway through our holiday week. When he finally called me on Wednesday evening we decided to strike the iron while it was hot and meet up the very next day.

At the beginning of the 20th Century, Brouwerij Feys - no prizes for guessing that brouwerij if Flemish for brewery - was the country's second largest brewery and it has been a protected monument since 2001.

The monumental building, which had been abandoned and standing empty since the early 1990s, was eventually bought by Hendrik Nelde from Ghent in 2013. Initially appointed to help sell the complex,  he fell in love with this extraordinary building, appreciated its historical value, and decided to give it a new lease of life. 

My brother and his girlfriend, who were initially looking for somewhere similar in France, ended up here by pure coincidence. They are currently renting a cottage on the estate for a mere pittance and their commitment to start an ecological vegetable garden from scratch. 

Judging from the plentiful and varied produce, they succeeded magnificently, their only complaint being that the people living in the "chateaux" - the mansion which is part of the complex and where Hendrik and his family live - do not consume nearly enough vegetables. 

The "chateaux", by the way, also provides lodging for the volunteers coming from all over the world - the so-called "workaways" - who are helping with the project.

My brother proudly showed us his achievements and then we sat chatting in their shady garden drinking coffee and enjoying a lunch of homemade bread spread thickly with delicious, equally homemade, prune jam.

As for their dream of a life in France: the brewery is just a matter of one and a half kilometres from the French border, so that they're actually having the best of both worlds!

It goes without saying that we also received an extensive tour of the brewery complex, where for one thing it was mercifully cool!

While we are looking around, here is a potted history courtesy of the brewery's website.

The complex is located on the Dode IJzer, an old meander of the River IJzer. Initially, it housed a linen bleaching plant, which was completely destroyed during the French Revolution.

In around 1850, a salt works was established here, remnants of which can still be seen today.

In 1883, the entire complex was acquired by Pieter Feys, who established a brewery on the premises. Later, in 1898, the malting plant with its distinctive malt kilns was added.

During the First World War, the brewery became one of the largest in the country.  Due to its geographical location within the River IJzer's flood plain, the brewery's copper was not requisitioned by the German occupiers so that brewing could continue to take place. 

Its best-known beer was Forte Brune, a brown high-fermentation beer which was bottled in brown 75 cl swing-top bottles.

After the war, both the brewery and the malting plant operated at full capacity. Malt was even supplied to other breweries, such as Lamot in Mechelen.

In the 1950s, it became increasingly difficult to keep the brewery profitable, notably due to the rise of lager beers. Sadly, the last of the Forte Brune beers was brewed in 1965.

The malting plant remained active until 1969, when it also stopped filling Lamot beers, of which the brewery was a distributor. Afterwards, the Feys family kept a beer shop on the premises, but this too was discontinued in the early 1990s.

Restoring the complex to its former glory will obviously take time but there definitely isn't a lack of initiative to fund the undoubtedly costly business. Some of the brewery's spaces can be rented out for events, and brewery tours are available most days of the week. There's also the possibility to explore the River IJzer by kayak. 

Additionally, the complex has its own little chapel!

After an enjoyable couple of hours, we bade our goodbyes and drove back to our cottage, where we spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with our feet up. 

I'd just started Sarah Waters' The Little Stranger, which had me hooked from page one and which I found quite unputdownable. My eyes didn't thank me for reading for hours at a time, though!

The weather forecast for Friday spoke of temperatures well over 30°C inland, but once again promised a more bearable 27°C at the seaside.

A morning fog veiled the landscape that morning, hiding the French-Flemish hills in the distance and wrapping the cottage in an eerie haze.

We took our time getting ready and lingering over a breakfast of soft boiled eggs and soldiers. 

In the fridge, the spoils from my brother's garden were kept crisp and fresh, but I thought I'd show you the intriguing black beans, which sadly do not keep their gorgeous colour when cooked, when they are transformed into a dark green!

En route to the coast, we drove through a sliver of France again. The landscape, which was flat as a pancake, was still blurred by a misty haze lingering on the horizon.

Parking our car in De Panne, our initial plan had been to take the tram to a different resort. However, feeling a bit lethargic as the heat had clearly gone to our heads, we found ourselves trudging along the beach at De Panne instead.

The fierce looking fellow is Leopold I, the first King of the Belgians. We imported him after Belgium became an independent state in 1930 and it was decided that we needed a king. The honour fell to Leopold von Saksen-Coburg, who was born in Germany, but who lived in England at the time. He used to be married to Princess Charlotte of Wales, second in line to the British throne and daughter of the future King George IV, but who died in childbirth after only a year of marriage. 

Leopold arrived in Calais by boat on July 17, 1831, from where he was taken to De Panne by coach. The statue was erected in the spot where he first put foot on Belgian soil.

From the past to the present, and from a king to a princess :-) 

I was wearing my zig-zag patterned skirt again, this time combined with an exotically patterned and frilly sleeved top, last seen wearing here.

The beach might look deceptively empty, but it being a Friday it was a lot busier than it was on our first visit to the town on Tuesday.

The upside was that our favourite restaurant was now open, so that we made a beeline for it by lunch time. Unfortunately, it was now my turn to have my order mixed up by the - again French speaking - waitress. Needless to say I wasn't too pleased about this, particularly since she initially kept insisting I'd ordered the wrong thing. We also had to wait far too long for my correct order to arrive, by which time Jos had nearly finished his steak and fries. In spite of the fact that, after we complained with the owner, the waitress apologized profusely, we will be giving the place a miss in future.

By Saturday, the mercury had climbed to 33°C and we were at a bit of a loss. 

The only thing we could think of to keep us occupied yet relatively cool was another walk in the woods. However, the patches of dark green our walking maps of the area were few and far between.

As those to the south, in the French-Flemish hills, were ruled out as we didn't fancy climbing in these temperatures, we looked north, and happened upon Eversambos, which was promoted as being perfect for a spot of forest bathing, or Shinrin-yoku, a therapy that originated in Japan in the 1980s.

It took us some time to get there, though, particularly since our Satnav didn't seem to have a clue and got us hopelessly lost.

Once there, we made the acquaintance of a giant hare, then proceeded to walk through a tunnel of trees until we found a rather wobbly bench with a view for our picnic.

Again, my chambray maxi skirt turned out to be my most worn garment of the holiday. On this hottest of days, it was accompanied by my green cotton peasant-style blouse, an old sales bargain from New Look.

Just like we did last September, we ended the final day of our holiday in Helleketelbos, the woods nearest to our cottage. And just like we did back then, we got lost in exactly the same spot, which we are now convinced must be due to the awkward placing of one of the numbered markers instead of our wobbly map reading skills!

But Shinrin-yoku has been taken up to the next level here with the giant sun lounger. Plus, we met several pixies in the woods!

And so another week in the west country had come to its end. With heavy hearts we'd be packing our bags on Sunday morning and making our way back home.

But we'll be back, and what's more, we've already booked next year's September getaway!

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!