My week in Belgium will be split up into several blog posts because there is honestly so much I would like to remember and one blog post would not even begin to scrape the surface. I’m sorry if it’s boring to read I just don’t want to forget anything. I’ve written a post all about our Le Lièvre family history and I suggest you check that out before reading the following Belgium posts because everything will make a lot more sense 🙂

I arrived at Bordeaux’s train station feeling like an exhausted wreck after a hideously late night of watching fireworks burst over the river at the “Fête de Fleuve” (River Party) in Bordeaux. It was by far the most magnificent display I’d ever seen, the whole sky was lit up like a Christmas tree, the lights flickering, sparkling and sputtering. The whole place was on shutdown and security guards equipped with large guns and belts of weapons stalked around, I’d have to get used to that for Belgium.

At this point, I’m pretty comfortable travelling alone but that didn’t mean I did not have a few hiccups along the way – from being locked out of my suitcase and having to get security to break it open, to getting hideously lost in Lille, it did not go as smoothly as I’d hoped. By the time I had everything sorted out I was a bit of an emotional wreck and poor Dad saw the worst of it when he rang me. However, somehow I made it thanks to the help of nice locals who gave me directions and a map of the city.

For those of you who don’t know, the purpose of my trip to Belgium was mainly to visit Messines, where our family’s history goes way back. Messines is only 20 minutes away from France’s border and was the battlefield of Belgium. During the first and second World War it got completely hammered and everything needed rebuilding. I went to represent my family and remember my Great Great Uncle Cyril who died during the Battle of Messines, and also my Great Grandfather Poppa Clem who was injured during the Battle of Passchendaele. The week I went to Belgium was the very same week that the Battle of Messines took place exactly 100 years ago and therefore lots of New Zealanders and Australians went along too as we played such a big role in this Battle.

A closed Facebook page was setup with information for all the New Zealanders and Australians going along. It had activities being held and also plans for meetups and information about the soldiers that had served. My dad (who had been researching and arranging everything) told me of the group and we posted a message saying I would be going to Messines alone and would like company for meals and rides to Messines (I would be staying in the small city of Ypres 10 mins from Messines as everywhere was booked out). The response was incredible! Overnight we had about 10 people offering to take me out and look after me, I was so relieved because the idea of being alone in an unknown country was a bit intimidating.

In the weeks leading up to my departure we pieced together a small plan of what I would be doing. However, most of the things were arranged at the last second because not many people knew their exact plan of attack. In the end, it turned out perfectly. Martin from the NZ Pilgrimmages Trust gave me so many exciting opportunities and I nearly flipped out when I received a text asking if I wanted to show the Governor General of NZ a war exhibition!

Anyway, back to the trip there. I eventually met up with the nice Australian couple (Patrick and his wife who offered me a ride to my accommodation) after literally running to our meeting point 1 hour late, lugging my huge orange suitcase behind me and sweating like a mad woman. The poor people coped really well having a stressed out and over-tired teen being thrown at them. I didn’t even notice when we crossed the border into Belgium, there was no security, no dip in the road – literally nothing! The ride was hilarious, it was the couple’s first time in Europe and watching them trying to adjust to the new road rules was the best thing ever. They kept on saying “to the right, to the right! Remember go right around the roundabout. No, not left, RIGHT!” After promising to pick me up later for dinner, they dropped me off at the BnB I’d be staying at the week. There was a young family who ran it, they lived on the bottom floor and I got to stay on the second floor. Let me tell you, that BnB was fiiiiiiine, I felt like a queen in that luxurious place – I miss it so much now ;D

The instant we crossed the border into Belgium everything changed just like that. I was now staying in a town where three languages were spoken – Dutch, English and some strange form of French. The culture was totally different too, there were no greetings with a kiss on the cheek which oddly, I kind of missed! And the food culture also changed – beer and beef were sold everywhere and instead of all the pastry shops you find in France, there were heaps of Belgium chocolate shops.

That night I got my first glance at the city of Ypres, and I can confidently say it was one of the most amazing cities I have ever seen! It was totally wrecked in WW1 and so everything was rebuilt, but still in the old style so people could feel at home. The streets were pebbled and everything looked squeaky clean and perfect. The design differed a bit from the buildings in France, the most obvious differences being the shapes of the roof tops and the lack of window shutters. The roofs were all different shapes and styles and reminded me of Doctor Suess or Quentin Blake drawings. After dinner, we went to the last post which has been held in Menin Gate, Ypres every single night at 8 pm since WW1 as a tribute to those who died. The 10,000th day that it was played the Queen attended. There were about 1000 people when we turned up and it was steadily increasing, there were expected to be many more people arriving over the next few days, normally about 100 people turn up. After the ceremony, I was lucky enough to meet and have my picture taken with the Bugle Players. It was a perfect end to a stressful day.