We followed Max in what seemed to be our own special little patch of sunshine down the river Leie, the two boats romping after one another like a pair of puppies on a spring morning.
As soon as we were through the village and the industry that supports it the river narrowed and began to twist in a manner that may well have been alarming had there been any risk of meeting commercial craft on its bends, but they have long gone, replaced by scores of tiny runabouts escaping from the city for a day of sightseeing, burbling around us like a cloud of gnats.
If the farmland and forests on one side of the river were not enough, the houses that lined the other were sublime. This is not the sort of district where average home loans prevail. Robot lawn mowers endlessly tend manicured lawns, picking their way round topiary hedges and monumental sculpture pieces, taking care not to scratch the helicopter as they go. Some houses are the size of small resorts, others the size of large ones, most sit quietly and understated in a national monument kind of way.
Yet, as we sat over dinner on Max’s aft deck, watching the reflections of the dying sun, we couldn’t help but think of the owners of those houses, and wonder if they knew what they were missing.
2 comments
You experiencing the last gasp of summer appeals to me becasue that means the last gasp of winter is one its way here.
A robot lawn mower seems like a very nice thing to have here, not that it will matter if the drought continues (haven't mowed at Clandulla for well over a year now.
A lastly I really like the play of light on water in this shot, lovely.
We've also loved our several trips on the Leie - for me in particular, with a larger boat, it's a bit like the waterways equivalent of being on a motorcycle travelling on twisty coastal roads. Enjoying the scenery and then a bit of heavy steering as you lean into corners, thrilling at the need to power around a steep bend. Enjoy Flanders, it's wonderful all around and has such a deep history and culture.
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