Near the Belgium/Netherlands border, canalside at Dessel, is this delightful sculpture. In the background is the 120ft Sas tower. When we reached the top an elderly gent had set up a telescope (which he must have lugged up all those stairs, no wonder he had a rosy coloured face!)and pointed out the sights to us. We were amazed how much of Flanders was forested.
That night we ascended the tower, now spotlit, again. A storm was gathering with thunder and lightening rolling round the tower. A dramatic goodbye to lovely Belgium. Tomorrow, the Netherlands.
On our way to the Netherlands, we stay overnight on the only free mooring in Antwerp, arranged for us by our dredger friend there, Hendrick. There were some scary moments waiting on the main canal for the lift bridge to let us in here. Ships were coming at us from all directions and a galeforce wind was not helpful with manouvreing out of their way.
The canal and river from Ieper formed a frontline for the Belgian troops. One of the many trenches has been preserved. It was called the Dodengang, the trench of death. The many clumps of poppies growing out of the walls add to the poignancy.
Still today, farmers are killed as they plough their land and hit unexploded bombs from WW1. Every year, thousands of tons are still discovered in Belgium by specialist teams.
We still have a few days left before our French 'vignette' runs out. From Calais we go to Dunkirk, then down the little canal de Bergues, a deadend, finishing in this beautiful little town. It is still surrounded by Vauban's angular and canalised fortifications of the 17th century, the most complete we have found on our travels so far and we spend a few happy days here.
For the next four days we join in with what is regarded as the very best maritime festival in Europe at Ostende.
Boats who attend are treated very well, wined and dined and entertained in return for letting the public have a look at your boat.
We are the only narrowboat here among 200 trad., sailing boats and would attract a lot of attention but, luckily for our sanity, we are six boats away from the pontoon and can hardly be seen.
On the last morning, all crews are treated to a sea voyage on a tall ship with breakfast on board. Skipper gets the chance to climb out through the netting on the bowsprit while first mate just enjoys the views of the other ships joining us out at sea.
At 02.30 on Thursday morning the trams stop running in Gent and the bridges can at last be raised for us to enter the city center, the first time boats have been allowed to do this for four years. We moor up and sink into bed at 05.30.
There are thousands of spectators, many of whom seem to be more interested in our English narrowboat than these beautiful old wooden ships we are travelling with.
Gradually, during this week, sixty traditional flat-bottomed sailing boats will arrive in Lokeren for the start of the Stroppentocht boat festival. This 24m long boat needed a little help.
The cruisers crowd in together at the end of navigation here at Lokeren while we make a more dignified mooring, comfortably and securely rafted to Wim's boat where Snail will spend the winter. Friendly and generous, Wim is a taxi driver by day and a tango dancer at night. He has a beautiful boat which dwarfs our twentyone metres of narrowboat.
This isn't an inland sea but the man-made Albert Canal. So wide that it's waters are choppy even on calm days, it was built in the last century to encourage commercial traffic and ease their way to Antwerp. It's Sunday and the only day off the commercials allow themselves so we have it to ourselves.
There were lovely walks to be had on the forested banks of the Meuse. Skipper, ever the opportunist, took the opportunity to 'harvest' some suitable sticks for carving during the winter.
We hear that there will be a special 'open weekend' while we are in Thuin. A group of enthusiastic volunteers have restored some ancient trams and will run them on what's left of Thuin's rails.
