A Joy Ride. Sunday 5th August - Thieu to Thieu

Before the big lift that so captivated us yesterday was built, the old canal utilised a series of  somewhat smaller hydraulic lifts that remain exactly as they were when they were constructed in the nineteenth century.   The engineering of these contraptions is diabolically clever and it is not difficult to see why they are World Heritage Listed structures, preserved now in the sort of imperfect state that they have perhaps miraculously remained working for almost a century and a half.

When Andrew and Briony casually mentioned they were planning to take Krys on a scenic tour up the Strèpy lift and return via the historic canal and therefore its four old lifts, we were delighted to be in a position to invite ourselves along.  An invitation that was happily accepted, at least as far as we could tell.

Is it odd we wonder, that living aboard as we do, we should derive such pleasure from being on other people’s boats? Under clear blue skies and with nary a care in the world we dallied down a canal steeped in history wondering at times whether we would be as old as the lifts by the time some of the bridges were raised for us to pass.   Today was joyride defined.

Going Down. Saturday 4th August - Floreffe to Thieu

The Strépy-Theiu ship lift was the tallest in the world until some bloke in China built a bigger one and spoiled its fun, but it’s still a bit of a thrill to join a couple of three hundred ton barges in a giant indoor bathtub to be gently dropped seventy-five metres or so over a cliff to the river below.

There are cables and counterweights and clever engineers who ensure that the journey is smooth and surprisingly swift. Even if it has not quite made the list of “wonders of the modern world”, which it well may have done, it is a wonder to us at least.

In the shimmering mid morning heat there was just a touch of the surreal about it as it loomed on the horizon.  Surely Belgium has never looked more like Dubai!

Down in the Valley Where the Green Grass Fails to Grow. Friday 3rd August - Landelies to Floreffe

Having spent almost a week in the intimate green of the Sambre, the return through Charleroi did not fail to come as something of a shock.

The change does not happen slowly.  The forest simply ends and crushing plants begin.  From there it’s downhill all the way, or half the way at least both figuratively and metaphorically.  Two locks down and we were in the midst of that delightful industrial wasteland, three locks up and we were on a much wider waterway transitioning ever so slowly into rural landscape once again.

We would like to stop near Charleroi and explore it properly one day, but this time we had places to go, things to do, people to see, and the thought of a shady place to sit at day's end drove us ever onward with nary a sideways glance.

The Ruin of Us. Thursday 2nd August - Thuin to Landelies

Aulne Abbey has waited patiently for our visit since the eleventh century, some of it since the eighth. It was pillaged then torched during the French Revolution and is now mostly shored-up as a reminder of all that has gone before, but it’s still worth taking an intriguing few hours to wander its cloisters.

Given that the world around us was melting in the heat, more sensible folk than we may have stopped right beside it to break their journey.  Perhaps they might have taken a leisurely morning tea in its shadow after the visit, before continuing slothfully on their way.  We are made of sterner stuff so sailed blithely on to find a haven for the night first, intent on walking the few kilometres back in the cool of the afternoon. 

The blistering tarmac underfoot perhaps could have been interpreted as a sign of how badly we had miscalculated what little cool there would actually be on this particular afternoon, but we set off anyway, undeterred.  On arriving at the Abbey, witnesses may have described us as hot and just a little bothered, but not so much that a cool drink on a shady cafe verandah could not repair entirely. By the time the Abbey gates closed in the early evening, perhaps soothed by the balm of its history, our return journey did in fairness, turn out to be just a tiny bit more pleasant.

Another Change to the Plan. Wednesday 1st August - Thuin

We woke with the expectation that we’d continue up the river for a day or two, before resuming our trek eastward.   After the first coffee of the day we thought maybe we’d save that for another time and get going today, perhaps first thing, or perhaps after completing a load of washing.

We wandered over to say our goodbyes to Koos and Val, but somehow forgot what we were about, picking up the threads of conversations from where we left off last evening, which led to us forgetting to leave at all as we chatted without ceasing until there was a grave risk of coaches turning into pumpkins.  

This in turn resulted in a new resolve, we would leave in the morning.  We would.  We would definitely depart, and to make doubly sure that we didn’t get trapped by their siren calls on our return journey from up river, we’d head back the way we came, mark our charts (or since they are borrowed charts, we’ll just make a mental note) “must come back to see what lies beyond the railway bridge”.   

Over the hill not far away. Tuesday 31st July - Thuin

According to the brochure at the tourist office, this is a small yet relatively unknown mediaeval city which features hanging gardens, a Belfry recognised as a World Heritage Site, holds water jousting competitions and elects a mayor every six years.

Clearly if we were to see it all we would have to wait for how ever long it takes until next mayoral election.  Instead, we elected to walk the tourist path, to see what we could see.  

Not at all clearly marked but on a beautifully drawn map, we followed the path up the front of the town, along the ramparts, through the middle, down the other side and even back again, picking our way through the gardens as we went.  In doing so we did see all of the things that the map thought worth seeing and a few more to boot.   We really should spend time just letting it all sink in. Therefore tomorrow if our usual logic prevails we will be off as soon as we are able, leaving plenty to absorb on our return at some future time.

Lots of pretty bits. Monday 30th July - Landelies toThuin

After a few days of travel during which had seen more kilometres pass under our keel than the previous fortnight had, we were quite tempted to stay a little longer in the little shady haven that was Landelies.   In this part of the world however, the locks are manually operated and the path of least resistance seemed to lead towards moving on rather than making a change to our appointed time. 

As it turns out, pretty bits and shady havens are not at all in short supply in this part of the world, and we spent a happy hour or two winding our way through postcard after postcard until we reached Thuin.

The village turned out to be more hilly than shady, and a delightfully eclectic mix of convents and castles strewn about with hanging gardens and cottages in a sort of mish-mash that defy conventional planning logic, except to bear out perhaps the time honoured convention that the wealthy chaps and churches get first pick and everyone fits in where they can.