Ieper had been an experience in more ways than one and when we left I felt I'd been enriched by being there. We'd arrived in sunshine and left on another lovely day, albeit with a brisk wind blowing us north. A German couple in a hire boat preceded us and we went through the two locks together, helped again by our kindly lock keeper. For a brief moment, we thought about stopping again at the Steenstraete pontoon, but the day was young so we kept going until we reached the turning onto the Ijzer leading to Diksmuide.
After only a brief wait for a low bridge to be opened for us, we moored up at a handy pontoon on the other side so Koos could have a rest while I took Zoe for a walk. It wasn't a very relaxed stroll, though. Usually, Zoe likes to snuffle along the grass verges of these rural roads, but for some reason this one was incredibly busy. Firstly, a procession of around thirty monster motor bikes came roaring past. We had to take to the hedges until they'd gone. Then, no sooner had the last one disappeared around the bend than a pack of senior cyclists swooped down on us and we had to dive for cover all over again.
I started to wonder why it was quite so busy and then I remembered: quinze août, as they call it in France. In any Catholic country, the 15th August is a public holiday when practically everything is closed. I'd given no attention to the date when we left Ieper, but now I realised why we were beset with all these hordes of people thronging what would normally have been a quiet country lane.
As we continued on the Ijzer for the remaining seven kilometres to Diksmuide, we noticed further signs of holiday activity. Rowing boats, canoes and kayaks zoomed around us, occupied by a range of folk from very small to quite large. Everyone seemed to be having fun and enjoying the sunny, if blustery weather.
The approach to Diksmuide is past a busy shipyard, after which the marina follows the quayside on for some distance. We found what seemed an ideal place to stop and moored up, but a phone call to the harbour master led to us having to move to another berth further on. The wind was blowing hard as Koos tried to reverse into the mooring and we nearly had another close encounter of the steely kind when the bow blew sideways towards a neighbouring cruiser. I squeaked and grabbed my boat hook, while flinging my fender over the bow. Luckily, the harbour master was there to lend a hand and with his muscle and my fending, a nasty crunch was averted.
We'd only just settled in when we heard a cheerful 'hello' and a tap on the roof. Zoe did her part to defend the realm but she stopped as soon as she saw the friendly face peering in. It was a dear friend from Australia. We'd met Jo and her husband Peter in Thuin back in 2018 and saw them again two years ago on the Schelde at Kerkhoven. It was such a coincidence and a thrill to see them here in Diksmuide. Arrangements were instantly made to have dinner at theirs (Jo is a superb cook), so with Zoe as auxiliary guest, we spent a wonderful evening of yarns and laughter catching up. At our age, of course, health always enters the discussion, so if you get to read this, Jo and Peter, I very much hope yours will remain good in the coming year. It was fantastic to see you again.
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Peter and Jo's wonderful cruiser. It's like a
Mary Poppins bag: it looks small but is huge
inside, with every home comfort you could
wish for |
On a side note, social media is great for keeping contacts going, but it's only when we get together with people that we find out what their life has really been like, the good and the not so great. There's no digital platform that can replace sitting around a table together, is there?
The following morning brought grey skies and drizzle, the first we'd had on the whole trip. Unfair as it was to complain, given we'd had nearly two weeks of wall-to-wall sunshine, I was sorry I couldn't take photos of Diksmuide in brighter weather. Nevertheless, it's a lovely place and I enjoyed my walk into the centre for some necessary shopping.
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| The main shopping street leading to the city square |
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This and the photos below are all different views of
the square, which is normally busy with both
locals and visitors on a summer's day |
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The HH and the Frog that almost croaked when
we arrived... |
From Diksmuide, we travelled north through drizzle and squally wind until we reached Nieuwpoort where this time we couldn't miss the lock. What we did miss, however, was the guide posts leading us into it, a bit silly really considering they were huge, as you can see if you click on the photo. They're those big square wooden things. Somehow, we ended up on the wrong side of them and had to creep our way between them to approach the St Joris lock. Unlike our adventure on the way to Veurne, when we were doing shark impressions among several minnows on the other side (trying to find out if we were in the right place), there were no other boats going through with us. Ours was the only boat in the massive chamber.
As we motored in, I looked at the board on the wall, which announced that St Jorissluis was 124m x 12.5m
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| If you enlarge the photo you'll see the sign |
"Why is this lock so big?" I asked Koos. "The tidal ones are much smaller. They were only forty-eight metres long."
"I don't really know," he admitted. "Perhaps it was designed for possible future commercial traffic going to Diksmuide and Ieper."
"But the locks to Ieper aren't that big either."
"You're right. They're spits size. The usual thirty nine by five-ish, I think."
"So? It still begs the question."
Koos shrugged. There was no answer to that one.
In any event, our passage was smooth and it wasn't long before we were chugging our way to the Rattevalle bridge, the first that would have to be opened for us on the Plassendale canal. However, we decided to call it a day, knowing that if we started the
blokvaart (see
my first post about our travels), we'd pretty much have to keep on going. As we'd stopped for a rest here on the way to Nieuwpoort, we knew it was a nice place with some good walks for Zoe and anyway, the skies were clearing in preparation for a lovely evening.
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| The Hennie H just before the Rattervalle Bridge |
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| Sunset over Flanders |
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| Zoe needs no introduction |
We spent the next few days, retracing our route, but this time slowly. Not that we were hurrying before but Veurne was the only place we'd spent more than two nights. It was still very warm and we were glad to take it easy, as was Zoe.
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It was much easier to keep her cool once she
decided to go into her little dog house |
After visiting a longtime friend
whose museum barge, Tordino, was moored just beyond the junction of the Bruges-Ostend Canal with the Plassendale canal, we spent two nights at our favourite nowhere mooring a few kilometres further on. The first night was at the pontoon on the south side of the canal, close to a level crossing. Koos spent some happy time filming trains, which are his other passion in life. I, in turn, had a wonderful walk in pastoral countryside with Zoe. For the second night, we crossed the canal to the pontoon where we'd stayed on route to Veurne. Because we could only spend 12 hours on each pontoon in any one day, this was a good solution, particularly as it meant discovering a farm which did particularly delicious ice-cream and cakes. Irresistible, as I'm sure you'll agree when you see the photo.
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| Sunrise on the canal to Bruges |
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| A farm on my walk |
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| The farm from a different angle |
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I don't know if you can see them but I was
captivated by the swallows swooping above me
on the road. |
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A luscious ice-cream treat for Koos and apple cake for me. Coffee comes
with small cup cakes included in the price. Yum! |
Our next stop was a brief one at a small place called Stalhillebrug. From the visitors' pontoon, I walked to the town of Jabbeke with my shopping trolley to find the Aldi. The photos below are of my route there.
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The station at Stalhillebrug. Sadly disused although
the trains still seem to stop there |
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| On the road to Jabbeke |
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The town's rather grand church with an unusual
sculpture in front of it. I didn't have time to stop
so I don't know what it signifies. Possibly a war memorial* |
After loading our shopping on board, we carried on into Bruges, but having had more excitement than we liked trying to get out of the semi-circular lock which seemed to want to hold us against the wall, we then had a short altercation with a cruiser while waiting for a bridge. The Hennie H has no bow thruster, so manoeuvring in the wind is, as I've mentioned, difficult. Koos was continually trying to correct our little barge, which was being nudged this way and that by the forces of nature. Unfortunately, the helmsman of the cruiser ahead of us wasn't paying attention. His boat, with all its modern assistance gadgets, was at a standstill and it was only when we got dangerously close to his stern that he answered our calls for him to move.
Clearly rattled, he yelled at Koos, questioning his qualifications to drive a boat.
"Where did you get your boat license?" he shouted, angrily.
Koos, stung to a snappy reply, pointed at his cap and called back, "At the Lidl. And you?"
I grinned, although I don't think our adversary was amused.
He continued shouting, but since the ambient noise level had increased, we couldn't hear what he said. Koos just shrugged it off, physically and figuratively. Nevertheless, it added to the feeling that we wanted to find a quiet spot for the night and not stay in the city. We'd had enough excitement for one day.
But this was easier said than done. After having to wait thirty minutes for the final bridge, we started searching for a place to moor. A quay with bollards I'd seen when we were coming the other way now appeared to be fully occupied with work boats; we had to keep plodding on.
Eventually, we pulled into a quay just before what is called the Keersluis Beernem, which would be the Beernem stop lock in English. Its purpose here is to control the level of the water on the canal and possibly to prevent flooding, but not to raise or lower boats. Anyway, the quay wall, although high, was empty of boats and we had a nice choice of ladders and bollards from which to choose. Koos had to help me get Zoe off as I haven't mastered the art of climbing ladders while carrying a dog, but apart from this challenge and a few bumps from passing barges, it was just what we needed. Peaceful, rural and perfect.
Our final stretch to Ghent was marred by rain. The morning had been fine and I'd had a pleasant time steering while Koos and Zoe snoozed on the deck behind me. We stopped again at the Schipdonk lock for a proper rest but it began raining as soon as we set off again, so it was with relief we dived into the old Brugsevaart leading into the city and found what transpired to be one of my top-rated moorings of the trip.
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| Always a lovely walk at Schipdonk |
The photos below are of our spot in the Brugsevaart in the neighbourhood of Brugse Poort in Ghent. It was lovely to discover a new area, firstly in the evening when I walked to find a supermarket and met a very friendly chap who chatted to me at length about South Africa (he'd noticed my Africa pendant). We then had a calm night and enjoyed walking through the environs in the morning, meeting an array of charming people and delighting in the particular city atmosphere that makes Ghent so special.
We'd already decided we wanted to spend a few days on the Moervaart (the subject of my next post), but we couldn't leave Ghent without one last night at our all-time favourite place in Gentbrugge. Even better, this involved making a tour through the city, which we always love doing. With the weather back to being picture perfect, our progress along the Leie through the Ketelsvest and into the Schelde was simply a delight.
I'll let the photos speak for themselves, and finish this post here. Enjoy the rest of your week allemaal and I'll introduce you to the Moervaart and Lokeren next time.
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But first, a map that shows you how we sent through Ghent. The red line
is the route we followed. The first part is the Leie, then the
straight line at the top is the Ketelsvest. Then we turned sharp right into
the Muinkschelde and finally left into the Schelde/Scheldt |
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| The Leie river as it winds its way into the city |
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| Past elegant old buildings |
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| And the footings of former buildings |
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| into the city centre |
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| And then right into the Ketelsvest |
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| Eventually meeting and entering the Schelde/Scheldt |
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And finally, after passing through the Brusselsepoort lock:
our place |
*I have now found an article about the sculpture in front of the church at Jabbeke. For anyone interested in its artist and subject, here is a link.
here is a link. If you open it in Chrome, you’ll easily get a translation of the article.
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