Vertical landscape

Brussels to Manage

It has to be admitted that Brussels does not show its best side to users of the canal. We have been to the centre and know how handsome the city is, but not out here. Industrial docks and quaysides are about all you get to see, though the slogan on this one left us perplexed:

There is a big dock in the heart of the city, mainly dealing with sand, gravel, cement and scrap metal, it seems.

But back to the beginning. It turned out that the Brussels Royal Yacht Club is situated right under the flight path from Brussels International Airport. Flights started at 6.30 and were hard to ignore. So we were up and raring to go, leaving at about 8.30 to catch the first lock at 9. Except that when we got there, the lock-keeper informed us by radio that it didn't open till 10. Boring, but a good exercise in patience. We went in punctually at 10, the doors started to close – and then opened again. Apparently a passenger boat was coming. It eventually did, slowly, and accompanied us through a couple more locks as well, together with another British cruiser. Quite what the day-trippers made of the industrial landscape is hard to imagine.

There was also lots of graffiti, of course.

As we moved out of the city there were things to admire, like this conversion of an old mill into apartments:

As the landscape became more rural, we became increasingly aware of Belgium's love affair with the bicycle. Eddy Merckx has much to answer for. This was a big club.

We pressed on, with only a brief stop for lunch. The locks were very deep, but there was almost no traffic, and they were all ready and waiting for us. As we moved from Flanders to Wallonia (Dutch- to French-speaking), we had to pay a ticket for the facilities – minimum 40 euros for three months. More than enough for our couple of days. But it did include the Ronquieres inclined plane and we arrived just in time, to be told by the lady operator that it was the last ascent of the day and we could go.

Here we are going in behind a sightseeing converted barge, with very few holidaymakers enjoying the experience. The captain said it was definitely a bad year – all the violence, I suppose.

And here we are tied up in the chamber:

The lift has two chambers, but one is currently undergoing maintenance. Boats move into the tub and get hauled up the hill. You get a good idea of how it works from this photo:

Here we are moving uphill, with the counterweights between the tracks sliding down:

After emerging there was a rather bleak quayside, so we decided to keep going, and found a place to spend the night shortly after turning off onto the Canal du Centre, near a village called Manage. Tomorrow we will be heading in the direction of Douai, but won't get there in a single day.

Slipping gingerly into Brussels

Antwerp to Brussels

We left our comfortable berth under the shadow of the modernistic MAS museum – which we had failed to visit despite being moored so close:

We caught the 10 a.m. lifting of the bridge and then came to a very large and slow lock, which dropped us and half a dozen others about two metres down into the tidal Scheld River. Fortunately the tide was coming in, so we cruised effortlessly upstream at about 13 kph. There were good views of the city from the river as we left:

After that, though, it was mainly industrial docks – mostly handling things like coal, cement, oil, sand and gravel, and, of course, the ubiquitous containers. After a couple of hours, we turned off onto the smaller, but still tidal, Rupel River and reached our second lock of the day, rather smaller than the first. Again the timing was good, because the lock only operates three hours either side of high water, and we had just 10 minutes to wait. We liked this couple on the quayside:

After pausing for a quick lunch, we moved onto the commercial canal linking the Scheld to Brussels, which is, to put it mildly, not very photogenic. Here's a sample view:

The back door to Brussels is very industrial too, and a bit run down. As indeed, is the Brussels Royal Yacht Club, where we're tied up for the night. I wondered whether we should hide our British flag, but decided on balance to brazen it out. At least we have electricity and a good WiFi connection. Three years ago we visited the city centre, taking the tram that crosses the bridge just past the port. So this time we'll press on. Not sure where we'll get to tomorrow, but I hope we'll pass the inclined-plane boat lift at Ronquieres. This is often a bottle-neck, but it should be easier on Sunday without the commercial barges.

Exploring Antwerp – exhaustingly

Antwerp

After posting the blog last night, we were fascinated as the evening progressed to see more and more people, mostly young, gathering in little groups on the dockside, fixated on the screens of their mobile phones. I know the young have an umbilical relationship with their devices these days, but this seemed even more than usual. Eventually we concluded that it must be this Pokemon Go game that is all the rage just now.

They had gone in the morning, doubtless chased away by the rain storms in the night. We set off in intermittent sunshine, and first came to the main market square, dominated by the handsome City Hall:

With the usual heroic statue out front:

Next we visited the cathedral, which is truly enormous. The building has been much knocked about and restored over the years, but is very impressive. Among many works by lesser-known artists were four major Rubens paintings, including this deposition of Christ:

And this impressive main altar:

Our next stop was supposed to be the museum of printing, including one of the oldest printing presses still around. However, to our disappointment, it was closed for restoration until October. So we went on to another museum, pausing to smile at Friday Market square, which consists of an open-air auction of any kind of household rubbish. Quite a good crowd watching, not sure how many were buying:

The next museum started out as the private collection of a 19th-century local businessman. Much of the art was strongly religious in flavour, but he did get his hands on some amazing Brueghels, including this one of Mad Meg (can that really be the title?):

After this dose of culture, not yet sated, we strode, or hobbled, off towards Rubens's house, pausing only for a light lunch and suitable accompanying refreshment en route. We approached the house with some trepidation, having mixed feelings about Rubens. But it was well worth the visit. The house is delightfully preserved, and there are some excellent pictures to see. Here's the kitchen:

Here's a self-portrait of the man himself – hat at a rakish tilt:

They also have on show the Van Dyck sketch that was famously identified on the BBC's Antiques Roadshow programme:

And a self-portrait of Van Dyck. He clearly thinks quite a lot of himself:

The courtyard of the house was impressive. Art was obviously good business for Mr Rubens  or rather Sir Peter Paul.

Our final stop was the well-known Antwerp Central railway station. It is certainly grand, reminding one of Grand Central. No Oyster Bar that I could see, though.

Tomorrow we will resume our trip south towards Paris. We should get beyond Brussels, but you never know with the traffic.

In among the big boys

Tholen to Antwerp

After a comfortable last night in the Netherlands, we set off south, and soon came up to the last set of Dutch locks – two massive parallel chambers raising us about a metre and a half. By great good luck we arrived in time to steam straight in, with no tricky waiting about in the wind.

These locks have vertically rising guillotine style doors. Here's the door coming down behind us. There was one big barge and another cruiser ahead of us, though there would have been room for several more.

We pressed on and crossed imperceptibly into Belgium, taking our first tentative steps into the port of Antwerp. Just then the computer-based navigation system – PC Navigo – crashed and had to be rebooted: all you need at a tense moment. However, we got through that and contacted the port authorities on the VHF to register our presence. You have to give lots of details about the boat and yourself, and are then assigned a so-called FD number. Fortunately the operator spoke good English.

We passed all sorts of docks. Some loading and unloading bulk cargoes, like this salt from Solvay:

Others focused on containers. We read up about the relatively recent invention of containers, and how they have transformed global shipping and, one might argue, become the basis for globalization.

The ocean-going ships loading and unloading made the barges that have terrorized us along the inland waterways seem rather small and inconsequential:

I had not realized that the port is so extensive. We sailed for around 12 kilometres, taking an hour and a half. Fortunately the nav system was working again. It would have been easy to get lost without it, and there were no signposts to help.

The port includes a number of dry docks, and it was intriguing to see these spare propellers lying on the quayside. Quite a size!

Finally we reached our port in the Willemdok, after a short wait for a lifting bridge to open, which gave us a chance to grab some lunch. The bridge opens on a fixed schedule, so that by the time it did, there were quite a few boats waiting.

But the dock is spacious and there was no problem finding a comfortable berth, thanks to directions from the friendly harbour-master, zipping about in his inflatable:

Once settled, we decided that the first task was the supermarket chore, and that we would leave culture and sight-seeing till tomorrow. We'll stay at least two nights, and possibly three.

Wind and waves - battling the elements

Hollands Diep to Tholen

I've said it before – Saskia doesn't like waves. And today we had plenty. It was at least sunny to begin with, but a brisk westerly had come up in the night, which we would have right on the nose as we set off to complete our journey down the Hollands Diep. There were plenty of massive barges charging backwards and forwards, but we clung to the side of the channel and stayed out of harm's way. This pic tries to convey what it was like:

The spray was regularly coming over the bows, so that our washing, instead of drying on the rail, was getting an extra rinse and at risk of blowing away. But we did have time to admire the little fortified town of Willemsted over on the south side of the waterway:

Shortly afterwards we reached the locks that link Hollands Diep to the Volkerak. Sensibly the barges are kept apart from yachts and pleasure boats. There was quite a queue when we arrived, but the lock chamber was enormous and 20 boats fitted in easily, in places four abreast. This lady obviously believes in starting her children sailing early – there were also two little boys about four or five running around the deck, in life jackets:

The Volkerak was not much better in terms of wind and waves, but eventually we came to the turnoff onto the Schelde-Rijnjanaal, with a reassuring signpost. Crossing the channel to reach the entrance was a little nerve-wracking, but all went well.

The canal was a lot calmer, though there was still plenty of barge traffic to keep an eye on. Nowhere to moor up for lunch, so we took it in turns to eat on the run. That did mean we arrived at our evening's destination, Tholen, mid-afternoon, and were allocated a comfortable mooring:

We walked into the village for a bit of sightseeing and shopping, and got caught in a fairly sharp rain shower. But we had time to admire the town hall:

And also a bar just across the dyke from the harbour, which served very acceptable beer and apple pie:

Tomorrow we will leave the Netherlands, with some sadness. We have greatly enjoyed our time here, this year and last, and also greatly appreciated the many fine qualities of the Dutch.

Next stop Belgium, and Antwerp in particular.

A brief despatch from the Hollands Diep

Den Bosch to somewhere on the Hollands Diep

We got away punctually, anticipating quite a long day with lots of locks (for Holland – not by French standards). Our destination in a few days is Antwerp. We were armed with good advice from our neighbour, who knows the city and has written a guide to cruising in Belgium and France for the Cruising Association. The Belgian bureaucracy sounds quite complicated, but I expect we'll manage.

We passed down a tranquil canal cut through the centre of Den Bosch, under a couple of bridges that were high enough for us, and then came to a halt at the first lock, with double red lights.

It was 8.50 so we assumed the lock would get going at 9.00. But still nothing by 9.15, and no response to calls on the VHF. A notice on the side of the lock said it should operate from 6.00 to 22.00, but no-one answered the phone number given. Eventually the internet yielded a number for the national waterways agency, Rijkswaterstaat, where we learned that the lock was operated not by them but by the Den Bosch municipality, and would only open once a day at 3 p.m.!

That required a bit of a rethink. There were two alternative choices available: to chug up the river Maas against the current, which was not appealing, or try the more commercial, but shorter outer route to the west. So it was yet another 180-degree turn, and off we set. The lock through to the Maas was quicker than sometimes, and on the way we admired these active seniors on the river:

It was easy going down the river, with quite a lot of traffic. There were big commercial barges, cruisers, sailboats, fishermen, speedboats, water skiers – in fact, the Dutch indulging their love affair with the water. These geese seemed to have pink feet, but that doesn't really show in the photo:

Naturally, being Holland, there were plenty of cows, but the wind seemed to be in a good direction today:

We found a pontoon in a commercial harbour to stop for lunch, and fortunately had just finished when we were chased away to make room for a much larger, and obviously more important, arrival. There was a little inlet beside this rather striking house, but it warned of being too shallow:

Eventually we spotted Jackthaven de Kil, a harbour just off the waterway where a big commercial canal from Dordrecht comes in. It is comfortable and friendly, even though we have to moor between pilings, which we do not enjoy. You have to dock bow or stern first, attaching yourself to the pilings as you go in. Since Saskia is a nightmare going astern, we go in forwards, but that does not make getting ashore very easy. Of course the Dutch are used to it and enjoy laughing at those of us we who are less adept.

Not sure how far we'll get tomorrow, or whether we'll still be in Holland.