There’s a Flemish wine region. No, you didn’t misread that. There is an actual Flemish wine region. Producing actual wines from Flanders. I know this with certainty because I have been to the Flemish wine region and I have drunk Flemish wines. They were good, and I was able to enjoy them sat by a small lake overlooking actual grapes growing on the vine. No one is more surprised by these facts than myself.
In a country that is recognised by UNESCO for having a beer culture that qualifies it as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, wine is not something I associate with Belgium. Let alone the northern Flemish region. Yet, in the Hageland between Leuven and Diest, winemaking is flourishing. There is even a wine cycle route that allows you to explore the region on two wheels.
If the existence of a Flemish wine industry reflects a changing climate that makes it possible to produce wine in typically grey northern weather, the industry also has deep roots. The Romans brought wine making to Belgium, and in the medieval period the tradition was continued by monasteries. This was for domestic consumption but, as with English wine, Belgian wines are gaining an international market.
I’m not sure impending climate breakdown is a price worth paying for having a Belgian wine industry, but since there is one I set off on a windy but warm Saturday to explore the Hageland. I left from Leuven and headed for Horst Castle, a 13th century moated castle close to the village of Sint-Pieters-Rode. It’s famed as the home of De Rode Ridder, the Red Knight, a much loved Belgian comic book series.
Before leaving Leuven though, I passed Vlierbeek Abbey. Founded in 1125 after Godfrey the Bearded, Count of Leuven and first Duke of Brabant, donated land to the Benedictine Order, it has seen some history. Destroyed by William of Orange in 1572 during the war against the Spanish, it had only just fully recovered when the French Revolution came to town and was sold off into private hands.
After leaving Horst Castle (undergoing renovation), I passed through rolling countryside to Tielt-Winge, a small village at the heart of this fruit growing region. Just outside Tielt-Winge is a sight to behold, the Vlooybergtoren: a gravity-defying metal stairway sitting on a small hill with splendid views over the village. It is a dramatic sight and climbing up it is really quite thrilling.
I made a lengthy detour from the official wine route to visit the town of Scherpenheuvel. Here, in the middle of Flemish Brabant, is the most important Catholic pilgrimage site in Belgium. In 1500, it’s claimed that a statue of the Virgin Mary fell from a niche in a tree. The unfortunate shepherd boy who found it was unable to walk until his father found him and replaced the statue in the tree.
A small chapel was built, miracles were reported and soon pilgrims started to arrive. In 1603, four drops of blood were said to have flowed from the eyes of the statue – catnip to pilgrims – and soon the miracles started to build up. In the 17th century alone, 700 miracles were ascribed to the statue. The true miracle around here though, is the Flemish wine industry. On the way to Scherpenheuvel is Wijndomein Haksberg
A pretty vineyard, I tried a couple of dry white wines. Suitably fortified I hopped back on the bike for my encounter with the miracle maker housed in the Basilique Notre-Dame de Scherpenheuvel. The route back to Leuven had one more major stop, the epicentre of the Hageland’s wine making, Wezemaal. This small place is home to the Wijngaardberg, or ‘vineyard mountain’, if a 72 metre high hill can make that claim.
It’s also home to the Hageland Wine Visitor’s Centre where you can do wine tastings, at least when it’s open. Wine has been part of the culture here for centuries, on the Wijngaardberg is a 16th century ‘wine wall’, built to protect the vines from the weather. In the centre of the village is St. Martin’s Church, its white stone tower attached to the iron sandstone church.
Next door is the very pretty 17th century Norbertine parsonage surrounded by a moat. Sadly, I had arrived late in the afternoon and everything – church included – was closed. Even the nearby brasserie offering local wines was closed. Disappointed, I climbed back on the bike, headed for Leuven and the train back to Brussels.
