Spa to Stavelot: Day 122

Today I crossed the Fagne de Malchamps bog as well as climbing up and down to the wooded plateau.

As the distance was not great today I returned to the centre of Spa to enjoy breakfast at a café (bread, cheese, croissant, coffee and orange juice) and find a new comb. Having lost my previous comb, probably leaving it in a campsite toilet, my hair badly needed some attention. First I looked up the word for comb ("peigne"), then I had to decide which shops might sell one. My fourth attempt at a discount store was successful although they were only sold in packs of two. So now I have two combs.

In the main square there seemed to be a race on, highly polished sports cars, some with an excessive number of headlights, were sent off at intervals. Maybe a time trial. Part of the road out of town had been dug up. I looked down into the trench to see the network of pipes, conduits and cables that are normally buried underneath our feet supplying us with water, gas and electricity, while removing our sewerage. Some pipes were severely corroded, hopefully they were no longer in use, maybe the workmen were replacing them. Certainly optic cable was being laid to service the ever growing need for the internet. 

After leaving the houses of the Spa suburbs I walked up the "Promenade des Artistes". A wooded glen with a stream crossed by a number of wooden bridges, each with the name of an artist I did not recognise. In the dappled sunlight beneath the beech trees I caught up with an old lady stooped over her walking poles, shuffling along slowly. In response to my "bonjour" she exclaimed "Mon Dieu" as I had startled her. Despite her difficulties walking she was exercising with her chocolate, standard poodle who she said liked the water.

Promenade des Artistes.

Forests of conifers, birch and more beech followed but among them an area of bog was preserved. The wet ground was covered in reeds, heather and various bushes, as well as scattered oak and pine trees. Although such ecosystems are not unusual in many places, here it was scarce and this remaining patch was preserved. Gravel paths and boardwalks crossed the bog, although some of the boardwalk was in serious disrepair. Parties of schoolchildren were touring the site, laughing and chatting amongst themselves, teachers front and back. There was a wooden observation tower I climbed up which gave a tremendous view not only of the Fagne de Malchamps but to the north over the lands I had recently walked. A large party of schoolchildren arrived and started up the stairs. I began to wonder how many people the tower was designed to support. The boarding on the floor did not look too strong. I descended to ground level as soon as there was a break in the stream of children climbing up.

The bog of Fagne de Malchamps.

Many of the paths today were either muddy or rocky. Despite the recent hot weather there was plenty of water on the tracks through the forest, maybe as it was once bog. Bicycles had churned up the wet ground into rutted, muddy hollows. Elsewhere rocks and stones made the going uneven. I took care in my foot placement to avoid damaging my knee. 

View of final ridge to cross before Stavelot. 

The GR5 is very well waymarked (although a GPS or paper map is still required), among the woods I came across one of the volunteers who was painting the distinctive red below white stripes on selected trees. These need refreshing periodically as they break up and become progressively fainter as the tree grows in girth.

Volunteer renewing the red and white waymarks complete with GR5 tee shirt.

My entry into Stavelot was guided by the GR5 waymarks into a short tunnel, which was novel, dark and slippery. The town itself has squares old and new and a few buildings with rather tall slate roofs. My campsite is beside a tree lined river, its ripples sparkling in the sunlight. A little outside of the town, but not far enough to preclude a walk in for diner this evening (along the GR14 as it transpired).