Camping de Zeven Geitjes to Westerlo: E2 Day 109

A warm, sunny day with a rivers, canals, woodland, towns and an Abbey.

Walking beside the tree lined Kleine Nete river was particularly pleasant. The morning sun was illuminating some of young leaves on the trees but not others, making the scene a bit like an Impressionist painting with random splashes of lime and dark green. The river slowly flowing beside the path was the colour of molten, milk chocolate where it was caught by the sun, dark chocolate elsewhere. 

Path beside Kleine Nete.

My riverside path ended at the town of Herentals, and having only eaten an orange for breakfast (keen to get my vitamin C) I was in search of a coffee. On seeing a train and bus station a little searching led me to the station café. From the friendly assistant I bought my coffee and something that looked like a sausage roll but was filled with cheese and ham. Continuing on into the centre of Herentals I found an attractive town. The16th century Lakenhall, or Cloth Hall, added a historic touch to the shops and cafés around it. Leaving the centre I first crossed the Bocholt-Herentals Canal then walked on the path beside it for a while, passing Saturday fishermen with their rods. A little later I reached the Albert Canal, just as a large barge was going through the locks. Not too far away there was a windmill similar to one I had seen in the Netherlands. A man was turning it around with a winch.

Lakenhall or Cloth Hall in Heretals.

Barge in locks on Albert Canal.

As in the Netherlands the land I have been walking through in Flanders has been completely flat. It differs in that here in Belgium, there are no dykes and much more woodland. Tall pines towered above me today, their branches well above the ground leaving plenty of light for oaks and sycamore trees below. The paths and tracks through the trees ran in straight lines with the GR5 frequently taking right angle turns. As I brushed against vegetation, tiny green caterpillars fell on me. When I looked closer I could see they were hanging down on very fine threads, just waiting for me to pass. In the countryside poppies and ox eye daisies were coming into flower at the roadside. A sign I thought of the encroaching summer which seemed to be confirmed by the warm sunshine.

Tongerlo Abbey differed from Westmalle Abbey, that I passed yesterday, in that I could enter the compound. Sitting in the Abbey church, among the white walls and columns converging on a high ceiling, I meditated on my life and the teachings of Jesus Christ. On my left there was a copy of Leonardo da Vinci's Last Supper. The disciples seem to be discussing something among themselves. Some of them look old like me. A white robed monk did something at the lectern. In a nearby building there were display boards about the Abbey but being in Flemish they were not very instructive. In general I had been expecting more French as that is one of the Belgian languages but I have seen little so far.

Tongerlo Abbey.

I have now arrived at the Westerlo Youth hostel. The associated bar seems to be doing better business than the hostel itself. After settling in I bought a glass of the Tongerlo beer, brewed I assume at the Abbey I visited today, it had a fine, rich flavour.