I saw a picture of this view in an ‘unbeaten-paths-kind-of-a-book' about Belgium and got interested in this former coalmining area in the southwestern tip of the Borinage.
Despite its industrial past green is the color of the Grande Honnelle valley and here is where once the French writing Flemish poet Emile Verhaeren drew inspiration for his poems.
We started in Onnezies, one of the local villages with Gallo-Roman past. A friendly guy seeing us entering a sheep path tried to explain a better way to reach the forests.
But the creators of the trail probably loved the countryside the same way like we do, meaning they surely didn’t want us to miss this detour excursion along the backyards with grazing cattle.
The omnipresent blooming elderberry bushes, red poppies, daisies, the mild relaxing scent of chamomile, even Maarten seemed to enjoy the walk through the fields smelling wildflowers along the path.
Hares, partridges, crowing pheasants nothing could be more interesting than chamomile! He will make tea from the fresh flowers back home.
This was truly a pleasant hike through a less known part of Hainaut.
Once in the forests we tried to remain quiet not to disturb the deer and boar and of course hoping to see them.
We were not that lucky but fresh footprints on the muddy path confirmed their presence.
At many places we were confronted with the remnants of old railway which at the turn of the 19th century connected Roisin-Autreppe with the French Bavay.
Bridges, tunnels, old station building and the deep railroad bed reveals how the train once cut his way deep through the landscape.
We crossed the Grand Honnelle River several times and naturally spent some time “fishing”. Maarten with his self made fishing pole watched with admiration a fisherman pulling out a good size fish.
Do not despair! His dad has already bought the looong promised fishing license!
Along the trail there were many opportunities for climbing . Not only along the well known rock Caillou-qui-Bique, that was brought here by a devil all the way from the Pyrenees.
Also many fallen trees were ooh so tempting for our little scamp. Already in the beginning of the trip he got stuck on a tree branch and as he dropped down trying to release himself his pants got ripped.
Luckily he was not harmed!
Unfortunately this event somehow didn’t remain without consequences.
Later that day Maarten started to whine and complain about pain. As usually I was not allowed to check it and seeing him fighting the pain I got suspicious.
He had a big tick on the scruff!
I succeed in removing the tick but for Maarten this was quite a dramatic experience. He was all wet with sweat swearing he will never enter the woods again.
I have quite an experience with ticks. I believe they just like some people to others.
And they really love me and sadly it seems they love Maarten the same way!
After today’s outing I had 3 and Maarten even 5 attached ticks!
Despite wearing long sleeves and a hat, the giant rip in his even though long pants was offering a great opportunity for those nasty bloodthirsty devils.
PS: On our way back home Maarten drew this picture: mommy pulling out the tick.
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