The tourist literature refers to Bazel as ‘the pearl of the Waasland’, which depending on whether you think the name comes from the Old Dutch or early Germanic, means pearl in the wasteland or mud. Possibly it means both because this area is also Belgium’s largest floodplain. Neither name is a particular inducement to visit the area, that though would be a mistake. This is a lovely region for car free walks.
A gloriously sunny February morning saw us stepping off a train in the attractive Flemish town of Temse. The plan was to hike alongside the River Scheldt through what is now a nature reserve of fields, meadows and woods crisscrossed with cycle and walking paths. We’d explore small towns and villages along the route, including Bazel, and then hop on the ferry across the Scheldt to go to Antwerp for the evening.






The Scheldt is tidal here, and all the way up to Ghent, and still very much a commercial waterway connecting France, Belgium and The Netherlands. It always surprises me how much commerce still happens on Europe’s rivers. You’ll spot barges carrying everything from chemicals and liquified natural gas, to aggregates and shipping containers chugging along this stretch of river.
We passed by Temse’s lovely old Town Hall and massive Church of Our Lady, and strolled along the town’s waterfront. The countryside between Temse and our next destination, Rupelmonde, was quiet with just a few cyclists for company. We passed by the old brick works at Steendorp, where they’ve been making bricks since the 16th century, and then skirted round Rupelmonde shipyard to be confronted by a curious sight.






Here there’s a remarkably explicit sculpture. Zwarte Madame by Irénée Duriez would not have looked out of place in the grounds of Hugh Hefner’s Playboy Mansion. Not being an art critic, or a prude, I’d say there’s a case to be made that it’s a powerful celebration of female sexuality, or the female form, but also that it definitely feels a bit voyeuristic. Not to say a tad jarring as you’re strolling mere inches from the sculpture’s buttocks.
Rupelmonde is a historic spot. We headed to the centre passing an old watermill and the ruins of a castle, the Graventoren, dating to the 13th century. The castle has seen a lot of history, but its most famous association is from when celebrity map maker, Mercator, was imprisoned here in 1544. Mercator was born in Rupelmonde but his sympathies with the Reformation fell foul of the Catholic authorities and he was locked up for heresy.






Near the castle we found a friendly cafe, ‘t Loze Vissertje, for a quick beer before carrying on our way through the Kruibeke Polders. As well as being the home for over 250 plant species, songbirds, waterfowl, otters, beavers and deer, this 600 hectare floodplain is said to make Flanders five times safer from the perils of the Scheldt bursting its banks. I guess if you live in Antwerp this is important.
This area has numerous paths and we made our way towards Bazel between patches of woodland and wetlands. Just before the town is a truly monumental dyke constructed to tame the floodwaters. Let’s just say, if the water gets over the top of this thing it would be a genuine crisis. Built on top of the dyke is a zigzag-shaped sculpture made of steel called Arcade and designed by Gijs Van Vaerenbergh.






The works of Belgian duo Pieterjan Gijs and Arnout Van Vaerenbergh are found dotted around Belgium – most memorably for me, Reading Between the Lines in the Limburg countryside. On the other side of the dyke the path runs arrow straight into the grounds of Wissekerke Castle. Reflected in the surrounding water, this delightful castle dates to the 12th century but was largely destroyed in the 16th century Dutch Revolt.
What you see today is mostly 19th and 20th century built on top of older structures. It and the surrounding park are a pleasant spot. Setting off, we were in a rush to catch the ferry across the Scheldt to Hemiksem, where there’s a train for the short trip to Antwerp. The ferry runs every half hour. There are worse ways of spending time than watching the river flow past for a few minutes, but miss it at your peril.
