"Never go on trips with anyone you do not love." (Ernest Hemingway)
Larnaka is one of the bigger cities in Cyprus. The vicinity of the airport and sea makes it a perfect holiday destination. And there is something for everyone. If you want you can stroll all day on the promenade and enjoy beach life, comb through the old Turkish district, enjoy museums, admire flamingos, take a hike or enjoy slow-paced village life.
Here is how we spent three days in and around Larnaka.
Continue Reading →For a year and a half, we had been anticipating a new trip, but each new rattle from Miss Rona threw a spanner in the works. At the beginning of 2022, we finally flew to Paphos, a harbour town in the southwest of Cyprus. Not that Cyprus was a choice of the heart, a destination that had been on our bucket list for years. Quite on the contrary, we hardly knew anything about this country. No, our decision was much more prosaic: we found an affordable direct flight from Tallinn and hoped, spurred by the naivety of ignorance, that in Cyprus, so far down south, we would end up closer to summer than to snow. Close, but no cigar. That, however, is a story for later.
Even when we didn’t have strong sensations about Cyprus, it felt great to be back in uncharted territory. It almost moved us. Because being an international couple is fun, but it can sometimes feel like a trap. Having two homes, little time remains to travel to new places. It distracts from the wider world. That’s why it was so nice to get on that rickety bus at the airport and to race into the sunset, past roadside restaurants with plastic furniture, orchards full of orange dots and grey-haired men who leave their fields with sickles in hand. From a ramshackle lemon yellow van, the driver announced with a megaphone that he had “freskes patátes” on offer. We were unprepared for what we would find in this country. Even the light was different than at home.
And that’s how it should be. During travels, you have to be like a child, a kid discovering the world for the first time, with no reference to previous experiences. From the layout of the streets, the smell of the cypress trees that tickled the nostrils, to the hunk of ‘village bread’ with halloumi in the shop, everything was new. We love to accidentally fall into the tub, to slowly peel away the layers. And yes, that means that we sometimes bang our faces against the walls – suddenly having to look for an adapter because we didn’t know Cyprus uses a UK socket. But may there still be a challenge, can travel remain the last crash course in getting by, in winging it? Or are we going to bulldoze every bump with apps and smartphones?
Anyway, before we get too philosophical, here are some things to do in and around Paphos, Cyprus:
Close to our apartment, we found the first – but certainly not the last – archaeological site of this trip. Don’t let the name fool you: no royal blood lies under the soil at the Tombs of the Kings. The archaeologists nicknamed the site because of the luxuriant graves they found. No coincidence. During the Hellenistic era, when Paphos replaced Salamis as the capital of Cyprus, this was a very wealthy city.
A glimpse at the map reveals why. Paphos lies diagonally above the Egyptian port city Alexandria, at the time the largest metropolis in the Mediterranean world. Egypt regarded Cyprus, with its copper mines, wheat fields, olive groves and vineyards, as a treasury in which it liked to dig. Conversely, Egypt influenced Paphos, most evidently in the Tombs of the Kings. The granite columns of the temples came straight from Egypt, as did the funerary architecture.
Once a sprawling necropolis, the Tombs of the Kings is now a wasteland beside the Mediterranean sea, which slowly nibbles at the ruins. On both sides the site is surrounded by hotels; the nearby pubs and cafes lure English tourists with greasy breakfasts and cheap ale. But that doesn’t detract from the grandiosity of these fourth-century BC ruins.
In my native Belgium, a farmer with his plough encounters at most a shell from the First World War. In Cyprus, on the other hand, a farmer uncovered one of the best-preserved and most impressive collections of mosaics in the region. Archaeologists discovered the remains of Roman villas, adorned with “a sea of mosaics”, as Colin Thubron described in Journey Into Cyprus. The archaeological site in Nea Paphos boasts a Roman odeon, an agora and an early Christian basilica – i.e. meaningless stones to most untrained eyes – but it is mainly the mosaics that impress.
In ancient times, floor mosaics were a way for the rich and famous to distinguish themselves from those with fewer denarii. Which makes us wonder – will future Earthlings later also marvel at expensive coffee machines, race cars or other contemporary status symbols? The mosaics depict scenes from everyday life, but also legends, gods, goddesses, heroes and heroines. The locals are, after all, Greek. A visit to the mosaics is Greek mythology 101*. Apollo, Daphne, Icarus, Dionysus, Phaedra, Hippolytus and Zeus: they’re all present.
In the House of Dionysus, for example, we see a mosaic of Scylla, a mythical sea monster that once terrorised the waters of the Mediterranean. Achilles enjoys his first bath in the House of Theseus; an ancient beauty pageant is being contested. A mosaic called ‘the first wine drinkers’ shows how two shepherds get shitfaced on the noble grape juice. Apparently, there is a sinister story attached to this: these first boozers thought that the winegrower was trying to poison them and they killed him without mercy. No good deed goes unpunished.
* Circe offers a real crash course into Greek mythology, an adaptation of several myths by American author Madeline Miller. Anete gave me this book for Christmas and it proved to be the ideal reading material during our later trip through Greece. Highly recommended.
Between Venus Beach and Paphos Castle, a trail follows the coast. It lends itself perfectly to strolling, past the beer-drinking Brits in plastic garden chairs on Lighthouse Beach and parallel with the archaeological site of Nea Paphos. On various benches you can, like us, have a picnic with olive bread or drink wine while watching the sunset. The castle was once a Byzantine fortress. The Venetians later partly demolished it, and the Ottomans gave it its current form. It served, among others, as a prison and salt storage. Finally, the path leads to Kato Paphos, or Lower Paphos, a maze of touristy streets.
After an earthquake destroyed the city, Paphos lay abandoned for centuries. That only changed a few decades ago, when tourists started discovering the region. Brits in particular feel like fish in the water in Paphos – maybe it has to with their long reign here. Result: a lot of British pubs.
In Coral Bay, which some say has one of the most beautiful beaches in the region, we ended up in a pub full of wintering Geordies. A flock of them sat in front of the TV with large pints. “Well done, sonny”, one of them honked as Allan Saint-Maximim scored a goal for their home team, Newcastle United.
You better take advantage of the presence of the British. Near our apartment, next to Jimmy’s Killer Prawns (“The Addictive Taste”), a small cafe called DT’s Sunset Bistro Bar opened its doors for us. For little money, the friendly Scottish owners served us a British breakfast – not an English one, because that is “a bad word”. You can choose between “wee” and “big”.
Relying on public transport, we had four kilometres to bridge between Agios Georgios, where the bus dropped us, and the start of the Avakas Gorge. This was far from a punishment. Past banana plantations and a Hellenistic necropolis, we walked up a goat trail, following footprints in the mud. Then a fabulous mountain scenery revealed itself, more majestic with every bend we rounded. A pristine white church stood photogenically on a cliff overlooking the sea, benches and tables strewn out under a leafy tree inviting people for a chat after the service. One would become religious for less.
The Avakas Gorge itself is a miracle of nature. A wide gravel path, meandering between Mediterranean cypresses and carob trees, gradually narrowed until we had to wade through a stream between limestone walls. This watercourse, no more imposing than the average creek, carved out the rocks tens of metres over the course of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of years. The ultimate proof of the power of nature. The light transformed the gorge into a magical environment.
This narrowing is most popular with tourists who crave treats for their Instagram profiles. Most of them returned here, but the trail continues for four kilometres in total. The gorge widened again, vegetation returned and we were soon joined by a herd of blaring goats. We couldn’t complete the whole loop, but the day was nevertheless a success.
Note: we made the walk in January. Outside the winter, the river dries up mostly and you can supposedly avoid getting wet feet.
The bus will not get you all the way from Paphos to the Avakas Gorge. The short walk from Agios Georgios, however, completes the experience and offers you an opportunity to soak up the atmosphere of the Cypriot countryside. Bus 615 connects Paphos with Coral Bay several times an hour, where you can change to bus 616 to Agios Georgios. It is a further four-kilometre walk to the Avakas gorge parking lot.
(Harbour Station – Coral Bay, via Ap. Pavlou Av., Tombs of the Kings Av., Chloraka to Kissonerga Coastal Road, Coral Bay Av.)
From Harbour Station. Monday – Friday (September – May): 6:20, 6:30, 7:30, 8:00-12:10 (every 10 minutes), 12:25-13:55 (every 15 minutes), 14:10-16:40 (every 10 minutes), 16:55, 17:10, 17:25, 17:35, 17:50. Monday – Friday (June – August) + school holidays + Saturdays + Sundays: 6:20, 6:30, 7:30, 8:00-11:50 (every 10 minutes), 12:05, 12:20, 12:30, 12:40, 12:55, 13:10-16:20 (every 10 minutes), 16:35-17:20 (every 15 minutes), 17:40. Night routes (April – November, Monday – Sunday): 18:00-22:20 (every 20 minutes), 22:45, 23:00-0:00 (every 20 minutes), 00:15, 00:30. Night routes (December – March, Monday – Sunday): 18:00-23:15 (every 35 minutes).
From Coral Bay. Monday – Friday (September – May): 7:00, 8:05, 8:35-9:25 (every 10 minutes), 9:40-13:00 (every 10 minutes), 13:15-14:15 (every 15 minutes), 14:35, 14:50-17:30 (every 10 minutes), 17:45, 18:00, 18:10, 18:25. Monday – Friday (June – August) + school holidays + Saturdays + Sundays: 7:00, 7:25, 8:05, 8:35, 8:45, 8:55, 9:05, 9:20-12:40 (every 10 minutes), 12:55, 13:10, 13:20, 13:30, 13:45, 14:00-17:00 (every 10 minutes), 17:15, 17:30, 17:45, 18:00, 18:20. Night routes (April – November, Monday – Sunday): 18:35-22:15 (every 20 minutes), 22:35, 22:55, 23:20, 23:35, 23:55, 0:15, 0:35, 0:55, 01:05. Night routes (December – March, Monday – Sunday): 18:35-23:50 (every 35 minutes).
(Coral Bay – Agios Georgios Pegeias, via Coral Bay Av., Michalaki Kyprianou, Pegeia Square, Zalatzion, Kaminion, Panagias Zalatziotissas, Akamantos, Agios Georgios Pegeias Av., Agios Georgios Church Square)
From Coral Bay: 8:30, 9:30, 10:30, 11:30, 13:30, 14:30, 15:30, 16:30. + April – November: 19:30, 20:30, 21:30, 22:30.
From Agios Georgios: 9:00, 10:00, 11:00, 12:00, 14:00, 15:00, 16:00, 17:00 + April – November: 20:00, 21:00, 22:00, 23:00.
Aphrodite’s Rock – Petra tou Romiou in Greek – sticks impressively out of the water some 25 kilometres outside of Paphos. Uranus, heaven in the flesh and both son and husband of Mother Earth herself, had a son, the titan Cronus. He brutally castrated Uranus with a sickle and threw his father’s genitals into the sea. As one does. Around the white foam that formed, in this turquoise bay, Aphrodite was born. Yes, Greeks have a lot of imagination. Or they consume strong drugs here, that’s another option.
On stormy days, the phantom of Aphrodite supposedly sometimes shows itself here. But during our visit, on a cool January day, the sea turned out to be as flat as a pancake. A Polish tourist braved the water – she may have read that it could bring her eternal youth. Her travel companion, a little fellow with a bald head, seemed more interested in finding the right angle for his camera. He walked around nervously, taking small steps, looking for the perfect shot. We strolled a while on the pebble beach ourselves. Unfortunately, we discovered the 7-kilometre nature trail – a bit higher up the mountain, past the old road Paphos to Limassol – too late.
The ghost of Aphrodites haunts places all over Cyprus, the land is full of references to the daughter of Zeus and the nymph Dione, daughter of heaven and earth. In this pond, she washed after entertaining her hordes of lovers. Under this oak tree, she rested after a marathon session in the bed. There isn’t a rock on this goddamn island that Aphrodite hasn’t parked her beautiful ass on. We kind of get why. Aphrodite was a hot number, a sexy bunny. The goddess of fertility inspired many a sculptor to mold luscious breasts and voluptuous hips. A mythical sculptor, Pygmalion, fell so head over heels in love with his own creation that he slept with his statue. It gave birth to a daughter – named Paphos, inspiration for the city.
The cult of Aphrodite lived well into classical antiquity. Herodotus spoke of rites that dictated that every woman, regardless of rank or position, should serve Aphrodite at least once in her life. By waiting in a temple for a stranger to come to lie by her side. “Tall, handsome women soon manage to get home again, but the ugly ones stay a long time before they can fulfil the conditions which the law demands, some of them, indeed, as much as three or four years”, Herodotus wrote.
Bus 631 connects the bus station near the port of Paphos directly with Aphrodite’s Rock.
(Harbour station – Aphrodite Rock)
From Harbour station. Monday – Saturday: 7:25, 9:10, 10:40, 14:10, 16:00, 18:40, 22:30. Sunday: 6:30, 9:10, 10:40, 14:10, 16:00, 18:40, 22:30.
From Aphrodite Rock. Monday – Saturday: 8:15, 10:05, 11:35, 15:05, 16:55, 19:30, 23:15 (0:00 from Aphrodite Hills Resort). Sunday: 8:15, 10:05, 11:35, 15:05, 16:55, 19:30, 23:15 (0:00 from Aphrodite Hills Resort).
Gps Aphrodite Rock: N 34 39.823, E 32 37.681.
If Paphos attracts hordes of foreign tourists, Polis offers a more local alternative. This became evident already on the bus, where one big and noisy conversation ensued between all the passengers, front and back, and the bus driver. One fellow passenger, in particular, clucked in a high-pitched voice, sounding like a cartoon character. In Polis, we found no pubs with British comfort food and menus in Greek, English and Russian, but local-looking tavernas with checkered tablecloths.
The reception of Nicos & Olympia Apartments, where we stayed, looked like grandma’s living room, with old sofas and a 1970s decor. The same could be said about our room – wooden furniture, brown curtains, an old-fashioned bathtub, plastic flowers and a wardrobe so hefty that a Cypriot family could store clothes for a month in it. A perfect insight into how the locals spend their holidays.
Polis acts as a springboard to Akamas National Park and has some beaches. But don’t plan too much else. This is the kind of town where you have to let life take its course. Pop into Costa’s Corner, a local bar that somehow mixes a Greek taverna (sirtaki dancers on the walls! plastic flowers!) with a hard rock café (guitars! a soundtrack of hair metal!) The staff treated customers like old friends – cook Maria shared details about her personal life after just 30 seconds – and even gave us a bag of fresh oranges.
Bus 645 runs regularly between Paphos and Polis.
(Polis Chrysochous – Paphos, via Chrysochou, Goudi, Choli, Skoulli, Giolou, Stroumbi, Tsada, Karavella station)
From Polis Chrysochous. Monday – Friday: 5:30, 6:30, 8:00, 9:00, 10:00, 11:00, 13:00, 13:45, 15:00, 16:00, 17:00, 18:00, 20:00. Saturday: 6:30, 8:00, 9:00, 12:00, 14:00, 15:00, 17:00, 18:00, 20:00. Sunday + public holidays: 9:00, 11:00, 12:00, 13:00, 14:00, 16:00, 17:00, 19:00.
From Karavella station. Monday – Friday: 6:20, 8:00, 9:00, 10:00, 11:00, 12:00, 14:10, 15:00, 16:00, 17:00, 18:00, 19:00, 21:00. Saturday: 8:00, 9:00, 11:00, 13:00, 15:00, 16:00, 18:00, 19:00, 21:00. Sunday + public holidays: 10:00, 12:00, 13:00, 14:00, 15:00, 17:00, 18:00, 20:00.
We stayed in Nicos & Olympia Apartments, a charming family pension run by an older couple. Address: Arsinois 1, Poli Crysochous, Cyprus. Gps: N 35 2.118, E 32 25.689.
Costa’s Corner. Gps: N 35 2.039, E 32 25.504.
A pair of hiking boots, a thermos of coffee, a hunk of bread and a generous helping of hummus – a picnic high on the rocks, overlooking the entire peninsula. A break on a bench under an olive tree. An ice-cold beer afterwards. One certainly doesn’t need much to be content. National Park Akamas, easily accessible from Polis, is perfect for long hiking days.
Because Akamas used to be a training ground for the British RAF, hardly any people live on the peninsula. This gives nature free rein – as evidenced by the endemic plant species that only grow in this nature reserve, the green turtles that use the area as a nesting spot. A perfect day of hiking on the Aphrodite trail was only momentarily interrupted by the drone of a pack of Russian cavemen looking for a hero shot on the mountaintop. Next time, my stone will hit the target, promise!
From Polis, bus 622 regularly leaves for the Baths of Aphrodite.
(Polis Chrysochous – Baths of Aphrodite, via Prodromi, Latchi)
From Polis Chrysochous. Monday – Friday: 6:00, 8:00, 9:00, 10:00, 11:00, 12:00, 15:00, 16:00, 17:00, 18:00. Saturday + Sunday + public holidays: 6:00, 10:00, 11:00, 12:00, 14:00, 15:00, 18:00.
From Baths of Aphrodite. Monday – Friday: 6:30, 8:30, 9:30, 10:30, 11:30, 12:30, 15:30, 16:30, 17:30, 18:30. Saturday + Sunday + public holidays: 6:30, 10:30, 11:30, 12:30, 14:30, 15:30, 18:30.
Near the baths, the Aphrodite trail starts. Gps: N 35 3.439, E 32 20.693. Alternatively, the Adonis trail heads more inland. Feeling energised? Try combining both.
Despite the presence of tourism, you will still find plenty of signs of authentic Cyprus in and around Paphos. The chubby grannies with knee-length woollen stockings, feeding packs of Whiskas to armies of street cats. The taxi drivers in brightly coloured training vests. A young man pushed a laminated portrait of the Virgin Mary into our hands. “If you have any problems, ask her for help”, he said, before driving off.
A bus driver – shiny bald head, heavy foot, a little too much energy – lit a cigarette in his bus before leaving, just below the message NO SMOKING. In his bus, we rumbled down a slope – the driver pressing the brake with full force – as a fabulous coastal panorama revealed itself, glittering sea as far as the eye could see. Equal portions of Thanatos and Eros. No wonder most of the buses here carry a religious icon.
As mentioned before, the light falls beautifully in Cyprus. Aphrodite’s Rock is popular for sunsets, although you can also admire them at the church of Agios Georgios.
We’re not going to claim that we don’t enjoy a cold Keo. But after a month and a half, it’s nice to have a change. On one of our last days in Cyprus, when returning to Paphos for our flight to Belgium, we popped in at The Old Fishing Shack. This pub is legendary in Paphos for its wall-to-wall craft beer selection and deadpan owner Athos who sells them with great passion. Try the homemade cider and the Shockwave Pale Ale from Nicosia. Warning for budget travellers: very pricey, so watch out for what you order.
We passed through Paphos three times and stayed in two different places:
>> Panklitos Apartments. Budget-friendly studios, including a kitchenette and access to an outdoor swimming pool. Amiable owners who were always ready to help. This is where we spent most of our time.
>> Kiniras Hotel. A characterful family business where we also ate an excellent breakfast.
We ate a lot of delicious stuff from the bakery – olive, halloumi and tahini bread, pita with honey. The local bread tastes good with tahini, hummus or tzatziki from the store. We also regularly cooked. Supermarkets Lidl and Papantoniou offer many options. We ate vegetarian souvlaki at affordable prices in The Three Little Pigs Grill House.
At the time of our visit, bus tickets cost €1,50 for a single ride, and €5 for the day. After noticing that the (non-official) website www.paphosbus.com/ contained minor errors, we obtained all the official schedules from Paphos Transport Organisation. They are all correct at the time of our visit (January 2022), We are, however, not responsible for changes. If you notice any mistakes, feel free to reach out.
This post first appeared in Dutch on Tom’s blog. Some of the links on this page are affiliate links, which means we might earn a small commission if you decide to buy something – at no cost to you.
When the soils get sandy, I know I’m on home turf. De Kempense Heide, the heath of Taxandria, home, sweet home. I’m from a town called Mol. By all objective standards, it’s nothing special. There is nothing you can do or see in Mol that you can’t elsewhere, often much better. But it’s home and, hence, special, at the very least to me. And so I hope that everyone who ends up in Mol – on purpose or, more likely, by accident – has a good time. Here are some things to do in Mol, Belgium.
If there’s one thing that my home region is world-famous for, it’s sand, sand, sand.
Whilst digging a canal from Antwerp to Bocholt in the 19th century, workmen came across large amounts of white sand in Dessel, Mol and Lommel. They dumped it on the canal banks. When the Canal Service planted trees on the sand, none of them took root. A local entrepreneur, Antoon Van Eetvelde, kindly offered to remove the sand free of charge. Much to the delight of the Canal Service, who had no idea what to do with it.
The sand turned out to be quartz sand. Which, as I learned during high school geography classes, the Rhine had brought to Mol from the Alps ages ago. Yes, that same river that now flows a hundred kilometres further east and north. Earth is a wondrous place. The extremely pure quartz sand lent itself well to use in the glass industry. Van Eetvelde promptly founded a company for its extraction. More than a century and a half later, Sibelco, the present form of that company, is not only the largest landowner in Flanders but also a global player active in 31 countries. Not bad for something that started with a pile of sand that nobody wanted.
The sand extraction turned the landscape into Swiss cheese. Over time, Sibelco has opened up many of the former quarries for recreation. As they’re filled with water, lyrical souls baptised this Mol’s Lake District. At provincial domain Zilvermeer (silver lake), visitors can swim, row, sail or dive between the pine trees. It’s where I spent most of my summer afternoons, playing volleyball with my friends as an excuse to peek at girls that I fancied. When Anete first visited Zilvermeer, she finally understood why I never seemed impressed when we visited beaches in Indonesia. Mol’s sand is the whitest you can imagine. If you visualise palm trees instead of pines, you can find yourself in Seychelles.
Look at satellite maps of Flanders and you’ll notice that De Kempen forms its greenest long. In this paradise for hikers, everyone can find something to enjoy. From short strolls to day hikes, Mol’s got it covered. The website Wandelknooppunt provides a good way to compile your own walk by connecting knots into a string or loop. Just jot down the numbers and find the corresponding signage in the landscape – that’s all you need to never get lost. The system originated from the coal mines in Limburg, where miners used it to memorise their route through the maze of underground corridors.
Religious and/or wealthy bastards have moulded this landscape into one of the most Scandinavian spots in Mol. The monks of the nearby Abbey of Postel drained the impassable swamps that stretched across the region and cut down the deciduous forests. This allowed the moors so typical of De Kempen to form. Later, landowners exploited swamps for peat extraction and nobles came to hunt. Even Prince Karel – who was Belgium’s regent for a while after King Leopold III had been naughty in WWII – owned a bird cabin here.
Now, the area around Ronde Put combines leftovers of all the aforementioned biotopes into a unique landscape – a patchwork of old pine forests, grasslands, wet and dry moors, sand drifts, alder carr and small-scale agricultural fields. A bird cabin still adorns the bank of the lake, although it is no longer royal property. Crawl in to observe a motley crew of water, prey, marsh and forest birds, butterflies and dragonflies.
A hike of about 10 kilometres starts from Postel Abbey. Follow knots 14 – 86 – 15 – 16 – 1 – 21 – 87 – 85 – 86 – 14.
For scientists, this is a unique swamp and heathland area, with large numbers of rare species. For everyone else, it’s a great opportunity to take out the rubber boots for some splashing in the mud and balancing on wooden boardwalks. Arguably the swampiest place in Mol, this walk is aptly called the ‘rubber boot path’. Further on lie two other nature reserves, De Maat and Den Diel. Multiple hiking trails connect these nature reserves. For inspiration, check Natuurpunt. Within walking distance – but not on Mol territory – Pannenkoekenboot (pancake boat) floats at the intersection of three canals. Attention: with 285 different types of pancakes on the menu, this place attracts many children.
Another lake created by sand extraction. In my childhood, I’ve looped it roughly a thousand times with various family members, as my grandmother lived in a street leading up to the lake. However inviting it may look on a hot summer day, swimming is not recommended. Once in a while, someone will ignore the prohibition signs and drown, usually because of the icy ground current. On the banks of the lake, ‘t Kristallijn regularly hosts art exhibitions, while the Quartz Experience Center relays the history of sand extraction in the region.
These are the woods and sand dunes of my childhood, where I built camps, lit fires with the scouts and dirtied myself so much that even the foamiest bath couldn’t get me clean. A piece of childhood nostalgia where the hiking is pleasant and where you can spot rabbits or deer.
Even with the locals, this flood area for the Nete is relatively unknown as a place for walking. Undeservedly so: with a bit of luck, you can admire kingfishers from the boardwalks through swampy meadows and along the water.
Mol is, after Antwerp, the largest municipality in the province. That deserves its own long-distance trail (90 km) that leads walkers through the most beautiful places in the municipality.
A 60-kilometre hiking event through the Mol nature. Anete wrote a report about the one edition we participated in. We made it just over halfway.
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, artists came from all over Flanders and the Netherlands to paint the pastoral landscapes, the heathland and the farming villages of Mol. They, in turn, invited artist friends. The School of Mol was born. Its most famous member, Jakob Smits from Rotterdam, was so impressed by Achterbos, one of Mol’s hamlets, that he spent the rest of his life in a simple farmhouse that he had bought for 2000 francs (50 euros). He lived in poverty, but his work – “simple, symbolic, poetic, and real”, in his own words – ended up in museums all over the country. After his death, a museum in his honour opened in the rectory of Sluis, where the work of other members of the School of Mol also adorns the walls.
Jakob Smits Museum is open Wednesday through Friday, 13-17 pm.
Pro tip from the locals: right opposite the Jakob Smits Museum, ‘t Voske (the little fox) is a cosy traditional pub with enamel billboards and yellowed photos on the walls, a warm stove and Guinness from the tap.
The Abbey of Postel is the perfect semi-lazy day trip if you’re staying in the city centre. Jump on a bicycle, follow autumn-leafed tow-paths besides a narrow canal and peddle over leafy trails and past fields, until the abbey looms up large. First, light a candle in the chapel for a safe return. Then, walk around the botanical garden – you can still buy homemade remedies for any ailment, from a dry cough to haemorrhoids. When all that’s done, park your lazy ass in the bar or on the terrace for an abbey beer with a platter of cheese cubes.
Dating from 1138, the Abbey of Postel was located on a crossroads of medieval roads, giving it an important role in traveller hospitality and poverty reduction. One particular distribution of alms mobilised so many people that the poor began to plunder the abbey. Eventually, the monks became impoverished themselves (happens when you keep giving), to such an extent that in 1943 they had to sell their brewing kettles. Since 1960, the beer has been brewed in Opwijk, almost a hundred kilometres away. It doesn’t, however, change the taste. Today, a few dozen monks remain.
Use the cycling knots system to make your own route. See ‘hiking in Mol’ for further explanations. A few interesting spots to take a pause from the saddle:
A long time ago, thousands of sheep grazed the moors of Mol. The wool industry arose around the river Nete. This still explains the somewhat elongated shape of the city centre, stretched out along the water in which the spinners washed the wool. Likewise, the inhabitants’ nickname – sopweikers or soapy water soakers – derived from that past.
The arrival of the steam engine sparked a sort of revolution in 1830 when poor spinners destroyed the spinning jennys and threw them into the water. At that time, a quarter of Mol’s population worked in the wool industry. After 1945, the wool factories disappeared, but the street plan is still chock-full of references to that time. In the 1990s, the cultural centre ‘t Getouw (the loom) was built on the site of the largest wool factory.
Nowadays, the Nete is the ideal place to take your sweetheart for a gentle stroll.
According to our tourism office, Mol is the “world capital of light processions”. When the days start to shorten, wagons decorated with lights depart on both sides of the railroad tracks. Throughout the year, a bunch of associations build these wagons in themes that pull you away into dream worlds, fairy tales, science fiction, and also sometimes current events.
The tradition has survived since 1886 when the first torchlight procession took place to liven up the funfair of Ginderbuiten. At that time, farmers in De Kempen didn’t harvest twice because of the poor and infertile soils, so the winter de-facto started in September. In order to mentally prepare for the dark winter, citizens went around with lanterns.
What once started with hollowed-out sugar beets with candles – as a child I carved one of those at school -, with torches and paper lanterns, was replaced first by incandescent lamps, then by high-tech, computer-controlled light sources. The original organisation splintered into two. But what has not changed are the children on the street enthusiastically swinging their light sabres.
The light procession in Rozenberg takes place on the second Saturday of September, the one in Ginderbuiten on the last.
At the Keiheuvel, a small airport for pleasure planes and gliders just over the border with Balen, you can experience your maiden flight. As a journalist, I once had that privilege. From the plane, I saw Mol’s lake district, the zinc factory where I filled my nostrils with rubbish during a student job, and lots of swimming pools and trampolines in backyards. The Keiheuvel also has a mini-golf, a sprawling playground and many hiking trails (including the Walk of the Year 2020).
The Corbiestraat is the longest bar in Mol, a succession of pubs and kebab shacks. My favourite alternative bar, Café De Perel, is long gone (perhaps because the owners are lying on their lazy backs on some paradise beach, with the amounts of money I regularly left there in my teens and twenties). Wassalon (laundry salon) fills that gap adequately. It is a good spot for “tanken” (fueling up) whilst listening to everything from Pixies to My Bloody Valentine.
Don’t say: “I’m a bit tired, I’m going home early tonight.”
Do say: “Drink a bit faster, this is not a library.”
El Petén is without a doubt the wildest part of Guatemala. Deep in the jungle lies the heart of what was once a thriving Maya civilization. Stumbling upon one of their old temples or stone structures, covered with vines and vegetation or neatly excavated, is the highlight of any trip through this land.
But Petén is more than just temples. Its rainforests teem with birds and wildlife. They are the perfect playgrounds for adventurers, water lovers and ornithologists. Even a couple of months are not enough to discover this vast region, to explore the ancient Maya world and to have endless meetings with some of Guatemala’s most pristine nature. Are you ready to take a walk on the wild side?
Continue Reading →Resplendent quetzals, ocellated turkeys, scarlet macaws – Guatemala has no shortage of iconic birds that will feature highly on the wish lists of many birdwatchers and ornithologists. According to Bird Checklists of the World, Guatemala hosts no less than 762 species of birds.
You can spot plenty of those in El Petén, the northernmost department of the country. The tranquil environment of Finca Ixobel, just outside of Poptún, is home to more than a hundred birds, both migratory and permanent residents. Why not try to find one of these?
[Read more about our experience volunteering for Finca Ixobel.]
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