windy!

Up at eight, can you imagine! We sat in bed reading, cozily warm, for an entire hour before that. During a leisurely breakfast we negotiate which route to hike today, still with the eighties disco music list. It’s supposed to remain dry until the late afternoon, so plenty of time to roam the local trails. We set off on foot from the house just before ten, the only difference with yesterday is that we’ve prepared sandwiches for lunch and stuffed them in the back pack. The stuffing is to make sure they don’t fall apart: leftover hamburger, cheese, lettuce on a bun will taste great, but requires pressure to stay together..

The burg is perched on a high outcrop and the whole country here is a thin layer of green on rocky hills: the trails are often lower than the fields and right on the bedrock.

First we go south, past Goé with a weirdly large gothic church, towards the Herzogenwald we also visited yesterday. Among the fields we follow narrow trails flanked by hedges, in the forest mainly wider gravel roads. It gets a lot busier once we’re in the forest, it looks like it’s a favorite spot of the locals. We deviate from the planned route and try to find some smaller, more quiet trails, but soon we give up and simply follow the crowds to the small parking lot.

Once we’re in the Bois de Jalhay there’s a lot less people. I would call it quiet except that the strong wind plays a symphony with the trees: did you ever notice that evergreens make a very different sound from deciduous trees? I’m not sure if it’s a normal occurrence, the wind is really very, very strong. Aside from the shallow sea of leaves, there’s now rains of leaves and hails of acorns. Not cold though, perhaps 15° C. I would call it unseasonal, but I suppose that’s because I compare it to the autumns of my childhood, which seemed a lot colder.

We stop for lunch around noon, sitting on the ground in a sheltered, sunny bit of forest near the cutely named Ruisseau du Grand Pré or ‘brook of the large meadow’. Maybe this refers to the crazy meanders this tiny waterflow contortions itself into a bit further on, in a large meadow. This whole area must be rife with wildlife, but all we see is a lone, hairy caterpillar in the middle of the path. After taking a picture, we use a leaf to carefully move it to the side of the road, I wonder what kind of butterfly it’s going to turn into?

We turn north again to start our way back to Limbourg, passing the hamlets of Hèvremont and Halloux with their pastures of cattle and horses. The air is very clear and even the cows look ridiculously picturesque in this light. The wind blows us home with plenty of time to spare before the rain starts.

Shower, picture sorting and blog writing, Arne sets the venison stew to .. well, stew.. and we spend the rest of the afternoon with books, chips and The Mandalorian. I’ll have to remember to hang up the laundry to dry, it’s amazing how quickly clothes get smelly when you do a few hills!