White Christmas in Africa - the great escape

It wasn't even on my top 10 list of travel destinations, but my friend's experience of climbing the Kilimanjaro in Tanzania was so tempting that I decided to challenge myself as well. It was definitely worth all the money and even the little suffering. If you're looking for an adventure and challenging your mind and body, this is for you!

Without much of researching, I decided to take the 7-day Machame route that seemed to have the highest success rate in reaching the top of the mountain. It was a beautiful route, and, in fact, I was afterwards a bit surprised how the whole Kilimanjaro business is so much focused on just reaching the summit, rather than on enjoying the gorgeous nature in the Kilimanjaro National Park and the lovely - when you're not suffering from the altitude sickness - path.

I booked the trek from Ahsante Tours according to my friend's recommendation and I was super happy with our guides (and the rest of the 18 people in the staff) as well as with my fellow trekkers, 2 Americans and 3 Australians. The experience wouldn't have been the same without this amazingly supportive and motivating group that never failed to keep up the positive spirit and confidence in ourselves: "We can make it! - We were born to make it!"

It's not really a technically demanding hike. The path is in good condition and at most times not even very steep. However, the altitude is something that you can't really prepare yourself for. It's quite unexpected how it will affect you; being fit doesn't mean that you will have easier time on the mountain. 

So if 65 km in 7 days does not seem like a big challenge, it might be that when you go through it with a constant headache, stomach problems, and general weakness and dizziness. It is the altitude and the emotional and psychological stress that comes with it that makes the climb such an interesting and difficult endeavor. I was curious to see how I will react to it and what I will learn about myself on the way.

The first day we passed through a rainforest and on the second day we entered to a more alpine like vegetation zone.

The first two days of the hike were pretty easy as we climbed from the Machame gate (1800 m) to the Machame hut (3000 m) and then to Shira hut (3800 m). Obviously we immediately gained quite of a lot of altitude, but we did it "pole pole", meaning very slowly. And I mean very slowly, as grandmothers strolling forward in a sleepy village. But this was the trick to not to get exhausted or lose breath, and it worked perfectly for me.  

We had great views of the second highest mountain of Tanzania, Mt. Meru (4600 m).

The sky wasn't always blue during the hike. On the first day we actually had a heavy rain around noon at which point I was feeling a bit desperate going through in my mind whether I have enough clothes for such weather conditions and whether I am able to dry my clothes during the rest of the hike. 

Somehow my hiking boots were leaking so I was already imagining how my wet feet will freeze at the top of the mountain. Luckily, on the second day it only rained for a short while and for the rest of the hike we were spared of rain. Good rain gear is however a must on the mountain as it is quite impossible to dry wet clothes in the cold conditions and the weather is unpredictable. 

Every day I had more and more wet and sweaty socks drying around in the tent (luckily I wasn't sharing), but it was quite desperate.

For me the third day of the hike was the most difficult one. The day started as a sunny one and we had great views of Kilimanjaro from the camp. Already at night, the moonlit snowcapped Kilimanjaro and the starry sky had amazed me. The most beautiful night sky I've ever seen. Purely magnificent! I don't know if it was already the altitude messing up with my brains or what, but this view made me want to cry and I could just feel deep gratitude of the opportunity of climbing this mountain. Even after the challenge of the third day, this was how I felt.

The challenge of the third day was to climb from 3800 m to 4600 m to Lava Tower and then descend back to 3950 m of Barranco camp. The first half of the day's hike I was feeling ok, just having a little headache. However, after 4000 m I was suffering of nausea and weakness; I just wanted to lie down and have a nap - and cry. 

It was a pretty silent hike in general, my fellow-hikers were also feeling tired and the joyful chatter had broken off, all of us concentrating hard on the path. Finally at the cold and windy Lava Tower I bursted into tears out of exhaustion and desperation. "I will never make it to the top if I already feel so bad now", I was thinking. I had lost my appetite, which didn't make it any easier to continue and descend to the camp. Half-asleep, in some automatic walking mood I made it to the Barranco camp and felt better immediately after throwing up (oh, pineapple for breakfast)...  

After the experience of the third day, I resorted to doping, that is, using Diamox, a drug that can reduce the symptoms of altitude sickness. I didn't have it with me, but luckily my Australian friends had, and it did the trick (or I just got acclimatized - who knows) as I wasn't suffering from nausea during the rest of the hike. We only took a half of a tablet in the evening as recommend by our guide. The only side-effect was the need to go to the toilet at night, which was a bit annoying with all the carefully prepared sleeping arrangements in the freezing tent. But waking up three times a night was still better than going through Day 3 again (and hey, gorgeous night sky!).

Rush hour at Barranco wall. We weren't alone in conquering Kilimanjaro. Around 70-80 other tourists were doing it with us, and probably around 200-300 staff members. I didn't mind the crowd, actually the atmosphere on the mountain was great; we were similar-minded people having the same objective. Something you rarely experience in "real life".

Day 4 consisted of climbing the Barranco wall, and for the first time there was a bit of technical challenge in the hike, but in a nice way. Our group was again full of energy and up we went singing and joking. On the top of Barranco wall with amazing views of the clouds below, we had a great photo session, and compared to the previous day, the feeling was fantastic. However, we had thought that the climb up to Barranco wall would be the challenge of the day, but afterwards we still had to hike down and up again, which really sucked the energy out of us - no singing during the rest of the hike. But the day's hike was beautiful and my favorite of the Machame route.

Porters carrying our stuff, food, tents, etc. were doing an amazing job. They carried the heavy loads on top of their heads and usually run in front of us to set the camp ready before our arrival. Something we all were highly grateful for every day.

The fifth day was a short hike from Karanga camp (3960 m) to the base camp, Barafu hut at 4600 m. The scenery changed and we were now up in the gravel zone with occasional mountain flowers. The hike took us only around 3 hours, and this is why some groups combine the hikes of the 4th and 5th day to make the Machame route in 6 days. However, making the route in 7 days gives more time for acclimatization and also helps you gather enough energy at Barafu hut before the hike to the summit. Suddenly, here we were at the base camp on the fifth day and the following night was our final trial, the hike to Uhuru Peak of Kilimanjaro, the highest point in the continent.

At Barafu hut we first had lunch and a couple of hours apart, already the dinner before trying to sleep at around 19h. The atmosphere at the camp was expectant and we got the last instructions from our guides. Enough clothes, Diamox, more clothes, trust in yourself, pole pole, and off we go. Hakuna matata! Shit! Why not beach holidays?

At 23h30 we set off to climb, a bit terrified. The starry sky and the full moon were shedding light on our way and we hardly needed to use our headlamps. The mountain looked massive ahead of us. It was massive. The wind was blowing like hell and the gusts were so strong I needed to stop to breath. 

The first hour was a steep climb up, but at this point we still had energy. The worst part was the cold, my fingers were freezing for holding the walking poles and my nose was running constantly. We were among the first ones to leave the camp - I guess our guides had noticed that we take "pole pole" seriously... Some groups overtook us, but reaching the top is not a competition, so I was mainly focused on putting one foot ahead of the other. Walking slowly forward and up without even understanding what I'm doing, again in the sleep-walking mood. The hike to the summit was not about the path, it was about reaching the destination.

After reaching 5000 m, our silent group got weaker and each step became more difficult. We were walking like drunk, stumbling and hitting our toes on the stones. Leaning to our guides and trying to find refuge from the wind. Even those who hadn't felt the altitude sickness before were now suffering from headache and dizziness. We saw a few people descending before reaching the top. The privilege of going through the suffering voluntarily... 

Our guides were pointing us the lights ahead of us: "Look, that's already the Stella Point, only a few more steps, you can do it!" The lights at Stella Point (5765 m) looked so far away and we reached many fake peaks before getting there. Desperate and tired at each fake peak. 

The few last hundred meters I was clinging to Musa, one of our guides, more for emotional support than physical. I was thinking that it would be ok to stop at Stella Point, that I wouldn't need to continue to Uhuru Peak, a further 10o m up. This was the only time I was considering of giving up.

Once at Stella Point, after around 6.5 hours of walking, the sun started rising and the wind became weaker. A little bit of hot tea and a few bites of a Snicker bar (thank you multinational chocolate companies...) and walking up to Uhuru Peak (5895 m) seemed again feasible. Hand in hand with Musa, we walked the last 20 minutes to the ultimate peak. Surprisingly, I didn't cry, although I feel like crying just now when thinking of that moment. It was Christmas Day and we were on the roof of Africa. This was the best Christmas present ever (perhaps because I never got a dog).

The views from the summit were stunning (well, everything was stunning then!). Unfortunately, according to some predictions, the glaciers will have melted by 2030, so these are the last moments to witness the snow of Kilimanjaro.

The way down was easy, we were almost running in the soft gravel back to the base camp where we had a nap and a lunch (and many high-fives) before continuing for a few hours to the Millenium camp (3800 m) for the last night of relaxation and going through our personal experiences. Relief, celebration, exhilaration. We did it - and we did it together!

The last day was a long walk down to Mweka gate, being tough for the front thighs and knees, but it was liberating to walk fast and easily, and little by little removing layers of clothes. More importantly, no stress about reaching or not reaching the summit of Kilimanjaro. And ah, thinking of a shower waiting for us in the hotel.

Absolute musts for a comfortable trip:
-enough warm clothes, most of the time it is very cold (only on the first day I was wearing shorts)
-a real winter gear for the summit night (it can be -10°C and with the wind it feels much colder)
-another pair of shoes for the camps
-sun lotion and sun glasses (my lips were badly burnt, with the cold air, it's even worse)
-camel bag for water (I didn't have one, which meant that I wasn't drinking enough water as we didn't make many pauses during the hike)
-good rain gear (you don't dry anything on the mountain)
-enough warm socks (you want to have a fresh pair for each day)
-thermal underwear (this trip is not about looking good on the way)
-wet swipes for a little cleaning (you get a handful of hot water in the camp)
-Diamox for altitude sickness and painkillers 
-diary to write down the day's adventure or what you feel grateful for that day
-head lamp and extra batteries
-enough money for good tips to the staff
-protein bars and snacks
-GoPro camera (I don't have one, but seemed like a great idea)
-positive energy, self-confidence, and team spirit

Becoming an Art Nouveau expert

I already wrote here about my Art Nouveau discoveries of Brussels during the great Art Nouveau and Art Deco Biennale, and after exploring various sites in Schaerbeek, I spent another weekend discovering Art Nouveau gems in Ixelles and Etterbeek.

On Saturday, I started with the ultimate example of Art Nouveau, Victor Horta's Hôtel Solvay in Avenue Louise. The building is nowadays a listed UNESCO world heritage site together with Horta's Hôtel Tassel (see below), Hôtel van Eetvelde and Horta Museum. 

The interior of the house is once again fantastic: in Horta's style, stained glass windows bring light to the house, walls are beautifully decorated and all details are carefully executed.

I continued to another UNESCO site not far away in Rue Paul-Emile Janson, where Horta designed in 1893 Hôtel Tassel. The interior of this building was completely destroyed in the 1970s, but is now renovated to look like the original. 

My last destination on Saturday was Maison Blerot in Rue de Belle-Vue, in a street where you have a row of buildings designed by the Art Nouveau architect Ernest Blerot (look for his signature on the facade). 

Compared to Horta, Blerot's style was a bit more romantic with more flowers and animals used in the decorative patterns. Blerot constructed over 70 houses in Brussels and I think I need to go and discover some of them in the neighborhood of Saint-Boniface soon.

On Sunday I continued my Art Nouveau weekend with yet another Horta building close to Sablon, Maison Frison. It's a house that I've walked past many times, but I have never paid any attention to its dirty facade (see below, it's the one with "for rent" sign). Indeed, the facade is not spectacular, but the interior has a beautiful winter garden of true Horta style.

One of the highlights of the Biennale was, without a doubt, Maison Cauchie in Etterbeek, close to Parc Cinquantanaire. This is where I finally understood the technique of "sgraffito", which is used to make the decorative paintings in many Art Nouveau facades. It consists of two layers of plaster of which the bottom one is dark. When the plaster is still wet, the artists carves the lines of the image on the wall, revealing the darker layer. Then, as in the fresco style, the wet paint is coloured. 

Paul Cauchie and his wife Caroline were masters of the sgraffito style and on the facade of their house you can admire their skills. The building has a well-earned place in the secret list of "The 5 most striking Art Nouveau houses in Brussels".

My last visit was in Parc Leopold (No. 322 in the list of "The 5 most remarkable places in the Eruopean Quarter"), the Bibliothèque Solvay, behind the European Parliament. 

The story of the Solvay library is super interesting. Ernest Solvay (father of Armand Solvay who commissioned Hôtel Solvay) was a rich industrialist who was very keen on supporting education, science and research.  He founded five private institutes, one of which was the institute of sociology, an academic field close to Solvay's heart. 

This building was constructed to only around 10 top students of sociology. They had a beautiful library in the middle of the building for their use and their individual offices were furnished with Chesterfield furnitures. Not bad for sociologists! With the help of the sociologists, Ernest Solvay himself conducted analyses on workers' well-being in his factories. Oh boy, I wish we had more rich industrialists like him in the world today.

Later in the 20th century, the institute became part of the University of Brussels, and finally in 1981 the library was no longer used. Squatters moved in and destroyed the interior of the place completely in the following years. It was only in the end of the 1980s when an architecture student got interested in the place and urged politicians to save and protect it. 

The shameful story got a happy ending as the student later was in charge of renovating the building. It is now used for various events and concerts, so it is possible to see the beautiful stained glass windows. 

Art Nouveau in Brussels - the beauty is in the details

After summer holiday (which seems like ancient history already) I have had some difficulties in enjoying life in Brussels. After spending time with friends and family in Finland and making little visits to fabulous cities like London, Paris, Copenhagen and Berlin (all in one month which was definitely a bit too much!), returning to Brussels was hard. 

I know that I have started post-holiday period with a wrong attitude, so I'm now consciously trying to appreciate the city. After all, I'm halfway through my contract here, so I need to make the most out of my time here - otherwise I would regret it.

Beautiful glass decoration over an entrance door.

With a beautiful sunny autumn weather I try to enjoy the pretty little things in the city and there are plenty of them (it's not always easy in Brussels to see the beauty, you have to pay attention). A few weeks ago I was dog sitting a colleague's dog for a weekend and this gave me a fantastic opportunity to slowly stroll around in my neighborhood and expand my knowledge of the Schaerbeek commune in which I live. 

Schaerbeek doesn't always have the best reputation and I myself wanted first to live in cool places like St. Catherine or Ixelles, but now I've learnt to appreciate the architectural beauty of the commune. There are quite many interesting places to visit here, especially around the neighborhood of the imposing city hall in Place Collignon and pretty Parc Josaphat.

These are the details you find in so many buildings if you just look up and around. Makes life so much nicer, doesn't it.

Even more extensive strolling took place this weekend as I had bought a weekend pass for the Brussels Art Nouveau and Art Deco Biennale. It's a truly fantastic way to visit some of the buildings that would otherwise be closed to visitors and in general get interesting information on this famous period of Brussels architecture. (It's popular among the locals, but I would even recommend tourists to plan their visit so that they can participate.)

On Saturday I started with the famous Maison Autrique in Chaussée de Haecht 266, designed by Victor Horta in 1893 as his first work. This was the start of the golden period of Art Nouveau! The house was carefully renovated ten years ago and our wonderful guide gave us an interesting tour around the house. This building is unsurprisingly No. 238 on my secret list of "The 5 finest Art Nouveau Buildings open to public in Brussels". 

It's quite funny to find this architectural gem here because the street is the heart of the Turkish community with many brightly colored restaurant signs that hardly valorize the building.

Horta and Professor Autrique were both Freemasons and the facade of the building includes some of the Freemason symbols like triangles and the use of number three in various ways.

I continued to another beautiful house designed by Horta, Hôtel van Eetwelde of which I have written here earlier. This time I had the opportunity to see the gorgeous interior of the building (unfortunately no photos were allowed). 

Wall paper in the Quaker House.

My last visit on Saturday was to the close-by Quaker House in Square Ambiorix. While I have walked by the building quite often I have rarely paid much attention to it. It was designed by George Hobé at the turn of the 20th century and bought by the Quakers in 1985. Outside is not much of interest in my opinion, but the interior was pretty (unfortunately here our guide wasn't very knowledgeable and spoke very bad English).

Hôtel Cohn-Donnay and the Restaurant De Ultieme Hallucinatie.

On Sunday I made a great visit to the heart of Schaerbeek and Saint-Josse-ten-Noode to streets I've never taken. Inspired by my new Art Nouveau book, I carefully looked around me and up to the buildings along the streets and indeed, there were so many beautiful details in the houses. 

While the overall picture might be a bit chaotic with all the different styles, you can enjoy of many little beautiful things if you just care to take the time (this is why walking with a dog is fantastic, you really have the time to contemplate your surroundings).

The chess corner in Hôtel Cohn-Donnay. Paul Hamesse designed every detail.

Unfortunately in the 1980s the garden was covered and this indoor terrace was built. Art Nouveau windows on the bar were removed but luckily at least the wooden part was conserved (originally the arch served as a covered path to the music salon at the back of the garden).

I started at Hôtel Cohn-Donnay at Rue Royale 316 very close to the byzantine style church of Royale Sainte-Marie. Hôtel Cohn-Donnay was already built in 1841 (before the Art Nouveau movement) in a neoclassical style. Only in the early 20th century when the Cohn-Donnay family moved in, Paul Hamasse, a student of famous Art Nouveau architect Paul Hankar, transformed the interior into Art Nouveau style. 

The place nowadays houses a beautiful restaurant and a cat café, which is really an underestimation of the potential of the beautiful house. Well, the cats were cute, but eating with cats on the table waiting to attack the food was not very relaxing.

I continued my tour to see two more unknown buildings: one quite eclectic house by Franz Van Ophem in Rue Renkin 33 and another one of more neo-renaissance style by Frans Hemelsoet in Avenue Princesse Elisabeth 22.

Maison Van Ophem built in 1890.

 Beautiful window in Maison Van Ophem.

Both of these building are now privately owned and transformed into apartments. In the Maison Hemelsoet we could visit one of the apartments that the owners had renovated themselves to resemble the original style of 1902. I didn't really like the quite opulent style of the neo-renaissance, and while the facade of the house was Art Nouveau style, you couldn't find the influence inside anymore. 

It is worth knowing that Hemelsoet had made the building with many different influences to show his clients what he is able to do, like Maison Van Ophem, it was kind of a portfolio of the architect's skills.

 Maison Hemelsoet built in 1902.

More to come next weekend when I continue my visits to another six places.

New discoveries in London: Serpentine Gallery

It's been a while since I last went to London. Too long, I now discovered.

I don't know if the city has changed, or I have changed, or I have just previously visited the touristy places, but this time I really fell in love with the city.

Exciting art galleries, beautiful people, great street markets, cool cafés, vegetarian food, hipsters creating nice urban activities - oh, I need to go soon again.

One new discovery was the Serpentine Gallery at the Kensington Garden. For fifteen years, they have invited an architect to create a pavilion outside the gallery. In the past, there has been a lot of famous names who have participated, Zaha Hadid, Oscar Niemeyer, Frank Gehry and Ai Weiwei to name but a few.

This time it was a Spanish architect duo selgascano. I let the pictures of the pretty colorful pavilion speak for themselves.

It was perhaps easy to fall in love with London just on this Saturday as the weather was great, hot and sunny. However, the pavilion was more like a greenhouse. Unbearable to stay long inside. But I'm sure that on a typical grey London day, this pavilion will bring a lot of joy to the people visiting it.

A nature escape in the Ardennes

It was a bit too much of a shock to return to Brussels after three weeks of tranquil holidays in Finland. Therefore I immediately needed to plan a little nature escape in the Belgian Alps, the Ardennes in the very southern part of Belgium close to the borders of France and Luxembourg (actually, you cannot get much further away from Brussels inside the Belgian borders).

 

Sometimes the trails signs can be a bit confusing...

Though I found out that Belgium also has the system of GR (or grande randonnée meaning great hiking) like France, I couldn't find any of the guidebooks of the trails in bookshops in Brussels. The one outdoor sports equipment shop where I went to buy a new mattress had a great collection of guidebooks and maps - for France! The Belgians are really not great in selling their travel destinations to people. So I try to do some of that promotion here...

In any case, after a lot of research on internet (yes, during work hours!) I found the trail that I wanted - and most importantly was able - to do. I combined information from several websites in Flemish (!), English and French to get a bit of an idea where the GR16 or Sentier de la Semois,  "one of the most beautiful treks one can possibly make in Belgium", passes. Taking into account the available public transports, my only choice was to start in Herbeumont and finish after two days of hiking in Bouillon. The best source of information on the distances between various legs on the trail was in Flemish, but at least I could have an idea of what is feasible in two days.

I took a train from Brussels to Bertrix on Friday afternoon (via Libramont, 2h30min, weekend fare for return ticket only 22 EUR) and then a local bus 163A (30 min, fare 3.20 EUR) from Bertrix to Herbeumont's Champs de Monde camping area.

Camping Champs du Monde.

The camping site was in a great place under an old train bridge over the river Semois. I was welcomed by super relaxed staff, two Flemish slightly drunk brothers-in-law who immediately invited me for beer and French fries, and a thunder storm and lightning. The camping site seemed to be the place to meet real Belgians and I was delighted about this opportunity. 

The Belgians seem to love their camper vans, to the extent that they build wall and roofs around them...

It has been a long time since I last stayed in a camping site. This one had a very nice atmosphere, but I still find it weird how the Belgians or the Dutch spend their holidays camping. For me camping is just an alternative way of accommodation, not the content of the holidays as it seems to be for the Dutch especially. Indeed, when I was first afraid that the hiking trail would be full of all the people staying at the campsite, I didn't yet understand that these people mainly enjoy activities at the campsite. They don't hike. 

This fundamental difference between me (the Finnish?) and them became clear on the empty hiking trail when I passed through many full camping grounds where people were sitting in their sun chairs in front of their massive camper vans and tents with full equipment. Also, those six naked middle-aged men and a woman (and a dog) probably weren't expecting to bump into anyone on the trail...

Countryside views.

Well, I also enjoyed the cosy camping sites, like the Camping Maka, where I spend my second night. As I arrived in the early afternoon I had nothing else to do than enjoy beer and sun in bikinis by the beautiful river Semois, and I gladly remarked that I'm nowhere close to being a real elitist.

And the hike, I wanted to write down the story, so that anyone else wanting to experience the Ardennes could do it with less pain of organizing and finding information.

Day 1: Herbeumont-Auby (24km)

The start of the hike, of the Herbeumont-Auby (Camping Maka) passage of GR16, should have been in Herbeumont, but I couldn't find it. I had arrived with poor information on the exact location of the trail but I had hoped that at the camping site the staff would know the place or that I would see the signs somewhere. But believe it or not, they didn't know. 

At 8 am on Saturday morning I started heading through Herbeumont village towards north and my destination of Auby-sur-Semois and, further along the river, Camping Maka. This decision was, however, a mistake as I later learnt that the GR actually first makes a detour towards south to the other side of the river Semois before heading to north after passing by Le Tombeau du Chevalier in the hills inside the loop that river Semois makes close to Herbeumont.

The quality of the map I was using together with Google Map (and the worry of running out of battery...).

Well, instead I followed a poorly drawn map of which I had taken a photo at the Grand-Place of Herbeumont. The map indicated "Sentier de la Semois", but obviously it wasn't the Sentier de la Semois that I wanted to follow. However, I followed the path marked with red diamonds (even though I knew the GR16 would be marked with red and white stripes) to a nearby hill, La Roche aux Corbeaux at 324m altitude, with good views of river Semois. It wasn't that bad, but afterwards I had to walk along the national road that wasn't that pleasant. However, I soon arrived to the village of Mortehan and finally saw the red-white signs of GR16. From there onwards, having missed probably 2/3 of the correct route, I was on track.

A time for a forest haiku (for a singing wanderer):

                        Laulaen kulkee /

                        Vaeltaja metsien /

                        Karkoittaa villit.

A little chapel before Cugnon.

The trail was now much more pleasant, although it wasn't exactly an escape to the wilderness (I even had a coffee in bar on the route, in the village of Cugnon). Nevertheless, it was refreshing to get a glimpse of the Belgian countryside that I have so far completely overlooked. The scenery of the river Semois was beautiful and altogether my hike of around 5 hours from Herbeumont to Camping Maka was relaxing but also physically demanding enough (but by no means difficult) even though I didn't for sure do the full 24 km, but more like 15 km.

River Semois at Camping Maka. The water was warm but only knee-deep. Should be a good spot to fish some trouts as well.

The wilderness seen during the hike in the Ardennes:

-a very big snail

-two dead mice

-a squashed frog

-a drifted wood that could have been a hippo

-a family trekking with their donkey

-a fox stearing me straight into the eyes, inspiring a haiku: 

                        Kettu loikahti /

                        Tuijotti suoraan silmiin /

                        Minä sanoin wau!

-Dutch people floating on the river

Day 2: Auby-Bouillon (25km)

On my second day I left the camping around 7h45 when nobody else seemed to be awake. This time it was much nicer to start the hike since I knew where the correct path was. It continued just outside the camping site following closely the river Semois again. The views were beautiful, and the walk was nice while a bit residential up to Dohan, a little village that I reached after around one hour. 

From Dohan there is a 5.5km loop that doesn't take you anywhere closer to Bouillon, the end point of the trail. I didn't know this and I was a bit exasperated when I realized after 1.5 more hours of walking that I hadn't advanced at all (it had started raining in the meantime). The loop by the river, south of Dohan, isn't that bad after all, but if you're tired you might want to skip it and continue from where the loop ends, somewhere around the N816 national road north of Dohan. From there the trail dives into a deeper forest. 

I had expected that the forests in the Ardennes are not real forests like in Finland, but they can get pretty dense, green and wild even though they are pierced by many forest roads and the civilization is never very far away.

The loop of Dohan takes you for example to this hill.

At the end of the forest, you cross the N865 and a little pond with birds, and the path leads you to a steep hill through the forest to something maybe called as Col de Buhan, the Buhan hill. This is also a loop and after reaching the top of the hill, you are slightly annoyed to walk back down (next to Les Enclaves road). Well, luckily on the path, you can find a lot of blackberries! 

After this loop, there is no more steep hills on the path to Bouillon, but you get to walk through various types of forests and meadows. I recommend you take with you little box that you can pick blackberries, because the path is surrounded by big bushes of them.

At 14h30 I suddenly entered the town of Bouillon bustling with people on holidays. It was a bit unexpected because I didn't know where the route ends. After crossing the big E46 highway (there's a bridge!), you only need to walk a few hundred meters and you arrive to the town. I didn't have time to drink one last Godefroy blanche, but I easily made it to the 15 o'clock bus number 8 heading to Libramont train station (45min, 3.20 EUR).

A good hike all in all despite the little practical troubles with maps etc. Walking alone and having so much time to think makes the time pass so slowly that I felt I had been away for much more than 2.5 days. Recommended!

Practical info:

For information on the local buses, check InfoTEC.

Camping Champs du Monde: price 11.50 EUR per night for one person and a tent.

Camping Le Maka: price 21.50 EUR per night for one person and a tent.

My other hiking and walking escape stories:

Mont St. Victoire (Provence, France)

Le Cap Gris Nez (Nord-Pas-de-Calais, France)

Jotunheimen (Norway)

Parc National des Volcans (Rwanda)

Cape Ann (Massachussets, USA)

And this reminds me that I should definitely write about the hike in Koli, Northern Karelia, in Finland where I did a great  60km trek last summer... Coming soon...