Barging through Belgium on the Shoe: part 1

Well, we finally did it. We went faring on our Hennie H for just over three weeks last month, which explains my absence from Blogland. I fully intended to write blogs as we went, as I've done in previous years, but things were different this time: first, we had Zoe, whose need for regular walks left me less time for writing, and secondly, we forgot to fix up our folding bicycles, meaning we couldn't go further from the boat than good old Shanks's pony* would carry us. 

On our previous trips, we'd cycle into the nearest town and use the WiFi at cafés or restaurants to post photos and blogs, but this year's circumstances curtailed such activities. As a result I confined myself to writing a journal by hand in the evenings and saving the photos I'd taken as reference for blogging when we returned home. The evenings also found me reading the paperback books I'd accumulated over the year, a habit I adopted when we first started faring south on the Shoe.

Anyway, back to the journey itself. We left our home harbour on Monday, August the 5th, but we didn't get very far that day. There were things we wanted from Vereeniging  and other items we decided to leave behind, so we spent the first night moored up next to her to collect our tiny rowing boat (always useful in case something gets tangled in the propellor), some extra fenders and other sundries, which we swapped with things we didn't need, such as the de-humidifier. The weather was set to be lovely and we took it as a good omen that we saw a hot air balloon drifting over the harbour.

The following days settled into glorious sunshine and blue skies, which remained with us for most of the trip. After topping up with diesel at a garage just outside Sas van Gent, a comedy act in itself as we two old fogeys lugged four 20-litre cans of fuel from the garage, over a busy road and onto the quayside next to the HH, we set off on our way. Zoe also settled into life on board, even managing to launch herself into the water twice in the first twenty-four hours of our travels: once at the rickety pontoon where we'd stopped for a brief rest break (think of the exhausting comedy act above) in the first of the photos above and again in Gent where we stopped for the night on Tuesday. Suitably baptised, she didn't do it again until we were on our way home; the rest of the time it was more of a battle to keep her cool than dry.

We find all sorts of interesting structures on the canals.
This one was on the Gent-Bruges Canal

During that first week, we made our way slowly to Bruges (Brugge in Flemish), first overnighting on an old industrial quay we've used before and then skirting the historic city to avoid the tourist areas. 

At the end of the quay, it became very
overgrown, which made it a 
challenge to get Zoe up the bank. I
had a number of such challenges this
holiday :)

Heading towards Bruges. We were very grateful
for our umbrella, especially to give Zoe some shade

She rather liked sitting on the roof in front of the wheel :)

Passing through Bruges is always lovely, especially if the numerous bridges
are lifted in time with our passage. It doesn't always go so smoothly.

Our third night was at another canal-side mooring. We've been to Bruges several times – it's only about 40 km from our home port – so given the temperature and the season, we decided against staying in the city. A very handy pontoon appeared before Plassendale where we could moor up for a maximum of 12 hours in any one day, meaning we could stay for the night and still be within our 'allowance'. It was a good, if noisy spot. On the other side of the canal, we could see the mainline train to Ostend (a very busy track), as well as two motorways. Despite the continuous soundscape, it was really very peaceful and Zoe experienced her very first sight of cows. We don't have cattle in our area, so she was transfixed.

Total fascination: it took me a while to encourage her away

The following day, we turned down the canal from Plassendale to Nieuwpoort, where we had to arrange what is called a 'blokvaart', meaning you call the bridge keepers and at a designated time, you can start proceeding through all the lifting bridges on the canal. I forget exactly how many there were, but by lunchtime, we'd been through at least six before we reached Nieuwpoort.

We put on our next comedy act when trying to find the tidal locks to take us into the canal to Veurne. There are three locks in Nieuwpoort: one non-tidal one into the river Ijzer and two tidal, the first of which exits into the river leading out to sea. The other one is across the small estuary and either enters or exits the Nieuwpoort-Veurne canal (depending on which way you're travelling). 

The problem is that when you arrive at Nieuwpoort from Plassendale, there are no visible signs to direct the boater as to where the tidal locks are. The only one we could see was the Sint Joris lock, but I felt sure we needed to be in the Gravensluis (Graven lock), so where was it? In our perplexity, we circled like a shark in a pool while the minnows (other cruisers) nipped past us into the lock.

"Is this the way to Dunkirk?" I called out to one of the occupants of a passing boat.

"We're not going to Dunkirk," came the reply, as they moved out of earshot. Erm, not quite the answer we needed.

Luckily, Koos received a slightly more sensible answer from the skipper of another yacht.

"This is the lock for Diksmuide and Ieper, not Dunkirk."

Well, at least that was clear, but we still didn't know where the tidal lock was. Koos did a magnificent manoeuvre to extract us from the path of yachts rushing to get into the St Joris lock and as we turned, we saw a sign hidden in the trees showing us we had to go round the corner and follow a parallel canal to the tidal locks. Eureka! Why on earth they couldn't have placed it in a more useful position, we couldn't fathom, but I'm sure we provided some entertainment in our confusion.

From then on, life resumed its serene path. The Gravensluis was small and easy, we crossed the bay quickly and went straight into the Veurnesluis, after which we fared along a beautiful tree-lined waterway into Veurne, which was where we ended our first week.

The canal to Veurne was quite beautiful: tree-lined and
peaceful. We didn't see another boat on our way into
the town

Veurne's marina was absolutely lovely and our mooring was delightfully shady. It seemed like the perfect place to shelter from the heat for a couple of days as the thermometer rose. 

Our mooring in Veurne on the canal to Dunkirk

And because of said heat, we only went into the centre of town in the evening. However, it's a beautiful place with a long history and well worth visiting. Here's a link to its potted history on Wikipedia. 

In the end, we stayed in Veurne until Sunday. It had been our intention to continue to Dunkirk and go Bergues in  France and even on to Calais, but knowing we didn't want to rush things and also that our time was limited, we decided to stay in Belgium and explore the Ijzer river before going to Ypres (Ieper) and Dixmude (Diksmuide), all places neither of us had been by water before. As it happened, our decision was a Godsend, but I'll tell you more about that next time. I think this is enough for one post, don't you?

Enjoy the rest of your week, allemaal, and I promise there'll be more to come about our travels very soon.

*In looking up how to spell Shanks's pony, I discovered shanks isn't a name; it's an old word referring to the section of leg between the knee and the ankle. I guess that's where 'a shank of lamb/beef' etc. comes from!