The Belgian Roadtrip: Site 1
Admittedly, I was nervous. "Are you going to end up in some foreign jail?" my mother had enquired. I strongly suspected not, but my first foray into international urbex did bring with it a fresh set of anxieties, not least that my Flemish is non-existent.
Following the deterrent of security car and strange looking man emerging from Friday night's failed effort, Saturday morning's sunshine promised better things. It didn't disappoint. A brisk uphill walk in the rapidly increasing heat, a quick "Bonjour" exchanged with the French explorers as they left, and we were in.
Château de Noisy was beautiful. Pastel colours, marble staircases and dandelion seeds swirling around on the gentle breeze.
Of course, I had prepared a flask at the campsite in the morning, so that tea could be taken in the tower.
Admittedly, I was nervous. "Are you going to end up in some foreign jail?" my mother had enquired. I strongly suspected not, but my first foray into international urbex did bring with it a fresh set of anxieties, not least that my Flemish is non-existent.
Following the deterrent of security car and strange looking man emerging from Friday night's failed effort, Saturday morning's sunshine promised better things. It didn't disappoint. A brisk uphill walk in the rapidly increasing heat, a quick "Bonjour" exchanged with the French explorers as they left, and we were in.
Château de Noisy was beautiful. Pastel colours, marble staircases and dandelion seeds swirling around on the gentle breeze.
Of course, I had prepared a flask at the campsite in the morning, so that tea could be taken in the tower.
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