Diary of the GR5 Walk in 1999

I try to get an early start today since I must first get to the GR5 which starts at the youth hostel, Klavervelden, about 2.5 km from the train station in Bergen op Zoom. I plan then to walk 25.4 km to a motel close to where the GR5 cuts across the N111 highway at Putte. But first I must get hold of some Belgium currency, francs.

I catch the 7:59 am bus into the city. My first problem: the bank doesn�t open until 9:30 am. I learn another lesson: "do it today". The money could easily have been obtained yesterday while I was walking around the city. My second problem: The motel I intended to stay at in Putte is closed for vacation. Third problem: the breast-strap on my backpack is missing. This is a good start for the day and it is still only 8:30 am!

I retrace my steps back to the telephone box but fail to find the strap. It could have fallen off at the hotel or even on the bus. It is not a major problem but it irks me.

I ask the staff at the VVV for assistance to find accommodation for me. There appear to be three options: stay another night in Bergen op Zoom, daypack to Kalmthout and catch trains back via Rosendaal; walk with my pack to Kalmthout hoping to find somewhere and if not catch a train back to Rosendaal for the night. I inquire at the train station and find out that you cannot get from Kalmthout to Rosendaal without going through Antewerp. Now there is option three: walk to Kalmthout and catch the train to Antewrp for the night. This has some advantages because at least I will still be in Belgium. The VVV have only limited information on accommodation in Belgium and none on Rosendaal in particular. I wait for the bank to open, get 100 Hfl from the ATM and change 111.80 Hfl into 2,000 BEF. Then I take the bus 22 to the Ziekenhuis (hospital) where I still have to walk 1 km to the youth hostel. The start of this section is marked with an impressive signpost showing the distances of locations along various tracks.

The walk begins through forests then through farms and along a forested road until the Belgium border is reached 12.4 km later. No markings or any sort of formal indication that I have crossed into Belgium.

The walk along a road follows the border for about 2 km. So possibly I walk with one foot in the Netherlands and the other in Belgium.

Gone are the cool breeze, the large lakes and the dykes of the Netherlands. To replace them are large lush green pastures of grass or crops. Everywhere there are cows and the accompanying smell of cow dung. Along the way, I discover from the topo-gid that there is a Nature House which seems to be a sort of hostel for nature lovers. Hopefully I can find there a bed for the night.

I arrive in Essen in good spirits. The breast strap from my backpack has been found tangled up in my waist belt. I walk down what appears to be the main street. It is an unimpressive small town, apart from a large brick railway station and goods siding. They both appear to be closed and dilapidated. Now just a reminder of a past before road transport, a past when railways ruled supreme.

I want to ring the Nature House but none of the public telephones I find take coins. Most of the shops are closed, which seems strange for a Thursday. An optometrist / jewelry shop is open and I inquire where there is a public telephone that takes coins. The lady offers to make the call to the Nature House for me. Unfortunately it is full. After much discussion with the rest of the staff, she suggests a new hotel about three km out of town. She calls them for me but there is no answer. Her son offers to drive me there and if there is no room to bring me back to the station so I can catch a train

I find out from the son that today is a public holiday celebrating Belgium independence. He is Flemish and very political. That explains why most of the shops were shut. I gather that, to him, this is not a day for celebration. He explains that the government treat his party like the IRA.

We reach the hotel, which appears to be a farmhouse. The owner is on a horse drawn carriage full of children. Yes, there is a room free and it costs 1,000 BEF. Ideal since I have only 2,000 BEF and all the banks are shut today because of the holiday.

It is still only 3 pm and I will have enough time to walk the 14 km to Kalmthout and catch a train back to Essen. The farmhouse is only one km from where the GR5 crosses the N125. Now I am in high spirits, all the initial difficulties of surviving in this new country have been solved, thanks to the helpful people in the shop.

The walk starts through suburban streets, again through farmland and small lanes before heading along dirt roads through forests, eventually going through the grasslands and dunes of Kalmthout Heide, a nature reserve. This part is quite different. A soft sandy track winds its way through the dunes. There are lots footprints but I see only two other walkers.

The track emerges onto the N111 which is a narrow two-lane highway trying to cater to trucks, cars, motorcycles, bicycles and walkers. How it does so without loss of life I don�t know. There are four cafes almost on the edge of the road all in competition for the people spending the day in the reserve. It is a noisy smelly area and I move on as soon as I have bought a can of coke.

The next five km are through the houses of Kalmthout as I make my way to the railway station. I know the trains run hourly but I am not sure how long I will have to wait for the next train. I am lucky, the train arrives in only ten minutes. Twenty minutes later I am back in Essen eating a hamburger special at a Frituur (snack bar).

This is my first meal in Belgium and I am not impressed. I order a coke, a glass of tap water, and the hamburger. The hamburger is just a large frozen meat patty that makes a Big Mac look like a gourmet meal. However, a mountain of frites smothered with mayonnaise accompanies it. The serving is too large for me to devour even though I have eaten nothing since breakfast. The worst is that I am charged 45 BEF for the glass of water! A total of 335 BEF (AUD$14). I will have to modify my eating strategy. Perhaps I should stop at a supermarket and buy food for lunch and eat less for dinner.

I walk the 2 km to my lodgings and try to get to sleep despite the loud noise of hammering and engine revving coming from the garage across the road. The noise stops sometime after midnight and I finally drift off to sleep.