Brussels to Flanders by Train

Missing a day of workshops, which I shall catch up on once I’ve dealt with 400+ images from the photoshoot yesterday (shibari clown in tree!), however before arriving somewhere almost as far as a person can travel in Belgium without actually leaving or arriving in ocean, a document of getting there shall occur.

9am Gare du Midi arrival for departing 20 minutes later; Belgium this summer is performing an excellent version of Adelaide winter. Five of us plus cheese and baguettes, and suitcases and other implements of carrying filled with ropes and other necessities for a day in the trees, naïvely wagering our fortune on absence of dampness. It rains.

And oh, surprise! Town of Ath again. I was unaware we were heading in that direction. Having never expected to return there, and now greeted by my family name on a pole at a train station, I shouldn’t be surprised if I end up there again.

More rain and fields of wheat and bovine clumps, small brick towns with the very particular rear ends; the houses’ backyards not so much ending as petering out in a cavalcade of ever-decreasing sheds, lean-tos, roofs, and garden implements.

We arrive after some one and an half hours, to be collected and spend the day in a delightful village forest garden and perform the journey somewhat in reverse, arriving back here fifteen hours later.