Slow travel diary: Walking the entire Belgian coastline
Westerpunt vista, De Panne
I’ve never been one to go out and do things alone. As a bit of a socially anxious person, I’ve always been in awe of people who can go as far as traveling without company, and in theory I could see the appeal. But is this something one could learn to enjoy? In the theme of “I’ll try anything once”, I decided some exposure therapy might be worth a try.
I wanted to stay relatively close to home so as not to feel too much out of place and after reading some blogs about people walking the entire length of the Belgian coast, I was intrigued. I firmly belong to that part of the population that likes to shit on our seaside any chance they get (grey, bleak, high-rise buildings), but who am I to judge all of it, having seen only bits and pieces? Walking the whole of it in four days meant each stage would comprise 16-ish kilometers, which seemed very manageable. I decided on the first weekend of November, booked three Airbnb’s along the way and counted down the days to my small pilgrimage towards self-discovery.
Travel diary
Day 1: De Panne to Nieuwpoort
For sustainability’s sake, I wanted to avoid driving. However, taking the train to De Panne station would mean either having to miss out on the westernmost vista near the French border (Westerpunt), or having to start my journey walking in the “wrong” direction to go see it. This dilemma was easily solved when someone I know offered me a ride. They were headed in that direction anyway and didn’t mind the small detour to Westerpunt, so the choice was easily made (thanks O.!). After a pleasant, uneventful ride in their electric car, we said our goodbyes and I was left with no other company than my own wits and 8 kg backpack.
I took my first 100 steps in a strange emotional limbo - was this going to be peaceful self-discovery or four days of existential dread? Upon reaching the beach, I was greeted with a sign notifying me of the tripping hazard that apparently comes with sand (duly noted) and a first look at the vista. Despite the autumn weather, many people had ventured to the beach, making the most of the bank holiday. I joined the queue on the stairs, took a picture of the sand artwork taking shape below, descended again, and started my walk towards lunch.
I realised I wasn’t feeling sad: the beach was full of dogs, so how could I be? I wasn’t overly happy either, just pleasantly neutral. After about an hour treading on wet, firm sand, I left the beach to eat. I was looking forward to a lovely vegan meal at Coco Bar & Food, however, they were unexpectedly closed. I had a vegan burger at Mirage instead, which was okay.
I walked in silence the entire day and saw hundreds of people and one seal head bobbing above the waves in the distance. The last hour of walking in the loose sand triggered something in my hip, and by the time I arrived at my Airbnb in Nieuwpoort I couldn’t disguise a limp. The studio was nothing special, but I enjoyed having a place to retire on my own. Between 4 and 7 p.m. I crashed in the Murphy bed, read Into Thin Air, took a nap and MacGyvered a plaster for my blister out of kinesiology tape and a cut up panty liner (write this down kids, this works). I had vegetarian meatballs at Zilt (again, fine) and enjoyed having the bed to myself for once.
Day 2: Nieuwpoort to Oostende
My second day started surprisingly well: my overworked glute tendon had eased up and my blister wasn’t hurting. I took a brief ferry ride after which I ended up in some sort of nature park. A nice lady showed me the way, I briefly tagged along, then had an energy bar on the beach and continued on my own. After a while I put on an inappropriately cheerful true crime podcast as I trodded on while the scenery changed.
Around noon I reached Beachbar De Kwinte where I had an excellent lunch. If you’re not strictly vegetarian, shrimp croquettes are not to be missed when you’re at the Belgian seaside. I had the assorted croquettes (one shrimp, one cheese and one vegetarian “meat”), all of which were lovely. The atmosphere was chill and I sat here for an hour or so before carrying on.
I could honestly have these every day.
Afterwards, it became clear that yesterday’s pattern was going to repeat itself: hour 1 felt great, both physically and in spirits. Hour 2 was a bit slow just having had lunch, hour 3 was boring and took forever, and hour 4 was straight up painful. On day 2, it was my right knee that got a bit angry and once again, I limped towards my stay for the night. Getaway Studios “The Providence” in Oostende was a wonderful surprise: a coastal inspired short stay apartment which turned out to be more luxurious than I expected.
Once again, I read, showered, then went out for dinner at Cultuurcafé De Grote Post. The place was crowded but they could still seat me at the bar. Service was lovely and the decor was impressive. I had the vegan tacos which look pretty simple in the photo but were actually great. Don’t miss this place if you’re vegan. Afterwards I went back to my studio, read some more, and had a wonderful night’s sleep.
They might not look like much, but these vegan tacos hit the spot.
Day 3: Oostende to Wenduine
I slept in a little, then went back to De Grote Post for brunch. I had yoghurt, granola and a boiled egg with soldiers, after which I felt ready to take on the day. Then, another day another ferry! The whole walk after that was a bit of a blur: grey, annoyingly windy and monotonous. I clung to my podcasts, but even then this day took forever and I kept looking at Google Maps only to see I had progressed a whopping 200 meters since the last time I checked. At one point I counted my steps to figure out the distance between the breakwaters and calculated I would need to cross 14 more before getting close to my destination for the day. I tucked my phone away and dragged myself through an endless slew of counting, walking, mild profanity and then counting some more.
Things got better as soon as I reached De Haan, with its dunes and elegant Belle Epoque architecture. I climbed the sea wall and completed the home stretch to Vacanzamare, which I thought would be a studio but turned out to be a whole apartment above the wonderful host’s own home. I danced around the space, started reading my second book and had the best shower in human history. I then taped up my injury du jour (Achilles tendon this time) and walked to Surfing Elephant for a heartwarming bowl of vegetarian bolognese, a very apt Dark & Stormy and general good vibes to end the day with.
Day 4: Wenduine to Knokke station
I started the day early because I was ready to be done with it all. No time for breakfast or lunch, just my leftover energy bars and chocolate until I made it to the train station. The mist that morning was so thick I lost all notion of space and even time for a bit, as it never really got light out. The whole atmosphere on the beach around 8 am was pretty creepy and after a brief scare where I thought some guy was following me into the dunes (false alarm), I was relieved to reach the road.
During this fourth and final stage I had to cross the port of Zeebrugge, which meant following the main road for a long time. Ugly and boring, but I was moving so steadily that by the time I reached Knokke’s sea wall again, I still had a chance of catching an earlier train than I had planned. It looked like I was going to miss it by 3 minutes, but with 40 minutes left to make up for that, and the prospect of having to wait an hour in the cold for the next one as the only alternative, I started speed walking through Knokke like a secondary SATC character through Central Park.
Blankenberge’s majestic pier. It’s in there somewhere…
All in all the scenery didn’t do much for me on this last day, but I really enjoyed the physical challenge at the end. By the time I caught my train home I had somehow dramatically yet painlessly bled through my left shoe and I looked a little worse for wear. But as soon as I sat down and opened my last Balisto bar, I broke the biggest smile. And although the days had been mostly grey and nothing of real significance had happened, as soon as my boyfriend picked me up from the station I had plenty of stories to tell.
The takeaway
This won’t be my last time “travelling” on my own. My expectations of both myself and my destination were pretty low, which was the right way to approach this. I felt calm, driven and stable for the first time in a while, and am looking forward to take my ambitions a bit further from home next time.
Don’t underestimate domestic travel. While our Belgian coast is nothing special, I was thoroughly charmed by its moody weather, occasional sightings of wildlife and, granted, some entertaining conversations between tourists I could eavesdrop on.
This isn’t to say you should travel here if you live abroad. See where your local railway can take you in an hour or three. Your destination doesn’t have to be stylish or popular: with the right intentions you can learn to see the beauty in the most mundane places.
