Kluisbos

I grew up surrounded by forests.
Long time ago my Dutch biking buddy used to be lyrical about all the lush greenery of the Czech countryside.
At that time I didn't understand. As a real landlubber I was rather interested in the sea and loved his stories about beach parties.

Later when I came to Holland I never thought the woods would ever be so important to me.

Only now, years later I understand my friend. I miss my trees, woods, forests, you name it.
Especially because there are no (big) woods in Flanders!
Yet, there are nice nature places here but it takes some effort to find them.


I promised Maarten to take him into the woods today. He was very excited. Obviously we both miss it.
It was quite a trip. We got stuck in a traffic jam and finally found ourselves in a different direction than planned.
Maarten was about to lose his patience pointing to every hill with a few trees on it.

Here! This is it, mom! Just stop the car!

A friendly cyclist advised me to take a shortcut. He probably didn't notice that I'm not on a mountain bike, neither I drive a sturdy jeep!
What an adventure! After a long, slow crawl along this bumpy dirt road we finally reached our destination.


And Maarten was right. It really is one wooded hill!
Moreover, this hill is even cut in two parts by the linguistic border.

The interpretative signs promise an amazing display of wild hyacinths in early spring. But even though it was already nice and warm today it is still way too early for anything to bloom.

Why won't we return in a couple of weeks?
Now, at last we know the way.