The day begins in the quiet of the morning, with the comforting sizzle of bacon and eggs in our tiny kitchen—a last indulgence before days of wild camping. From the deck of our sleeping barge, we set off along the tranquil RAVeL 141, a cycling path born from an old railway line steeped in Walloon history. The echoes of steam trains give way to birdsong as we pedal through lush green corridors.
Majestic engineering feats await us: the canal bridge of Sart, soaring high above the valley like a ribbon of water in the sky, and the boat lift of Strépy, a steel-and-concrete giant that silently carries ships to new heights. These monuments stand as testaments to human ingenuity, but soon we leave their shadows for the embrace of nature.
The landscape changes as we near the French border—vineyards stretch endlessly, replacing the apple orchards of yesterday. A treacherous downhill path, guarded by nettles and rocks, tests our balance and leaves its mark, but the laughter of shared mishaps carries us onward. Crossing the border itself is a quiet moment, marked only by the gray line on our cycling computers, but it feels monumental in its simplicity.
When the day begins to wane, we find refuge in a hidden field offered by a friendly farmer. He brings us water and shares stories of the wild boars he hopes to spot in the nearby woods.
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Sound effects and music by Pixabay.