In Flanders Fields...Ypres, Belgium

Gravestone in Ypres

Ypres, or Ieper in flemish, (and pronounced eee-per) is a city right across the other side of Belgium, towards the Western border. It was the location of huge battles between Germany and the Allies from 1914 until 1917, saw the first use of poison gas and mustard gas, and got absolutely flattened in the process. A lot of the historic town centre was rebuilt with German repatriation money to the original plans, and now its a huge tourist destination and place of memorial.

Cloth Hall

I went out there just for the day, I love how Belgium's train network makes it possible to get clean across the other side of the country in only a couple of hours (ok, the fact that the country is tiny help too!) and got there at 5pm to terrible weather. I quickly walked around the centre and glanced at the old buildings, and took some lousy photos in the rain. The Cloth Hall is amazing, it was originally built in the 13th Century and was one of the biggest commercial buildings during the Middle Ages. The rebuilt an exact replica after the war, made it a UNESCO site, and even now it seems pretty impressive! Inside there is normally the famous 'In Flanders Fields' museum, but its closed for refurbishment at the moment.

Ypres Reservoir Cemetery

There are 171 war cemeteries around Ypres, the train actually passes several on the way in, it's mind boggling. I headed to the Reservoir Cemetery, tucked away behind the ancient prison. The rain stopped, although the clouds didn't clear, and I was the only one in there at about 6pm on a Friday. It was the first war cemetery I've been in, and while it is pretty small compared to those throughout the European countryside, the small and identical headstones, all closely packed together, really makes it hit home, that there were hundreds and hundreds of young men dying every week out here. I can't really explain it, but it's a totally different experience to visiting a regular cemetery.

Street in Ypres

I had dinner at a typical Belgian Frituur, or fast food joint. Normally Belgium does the best fries, but this place was pretty gross and I quickly lost my appetite and headed back outside. The sun came out just as I started walking along the city ramparts. I walked around about half of the city, until the Menin Gate. It's a little disappointing if, like me, you picture really old ramparts like on castles. Instead, this is more than a path along the top of a retaining wall, but it was still a really nice walk, in the evening sun. I passed some of those things that guys hide in to shoot out of, and the foundations of a couple of old towers from when the Burgundians were around.

Tower. Does no one else see the potential for accidents?

It kinda freaks me out how they are like these 4m deep holes in the ground with no barriers or anything around, some poor guy could be out for a jog in the dark and fall right in. Or, you can walk around the top of them and fall straight into the water on the other side. But I'm beginning to realise that NZ is really safety conscious and the state makes a lot of laws, like bicycle helmets and swimming pool fences that people in other countries think are ridiculous and a infringement on their rights to decide things themselves. A lot of Belgians I've talked to about this get angry imagining a government making laws like that. I guess they forgot what having a government and new laws is like, now they're a year without one!

Rampart Cemetery

Anyway, back to the ramparts. A lot of the city has a pretty epic moat, now filled with birds and willows and all, and then I noticed the Rampart Cemetery, perched on a bank above the lake/moat/river. It was really beautiful, an amazingly serene location. Finally, I continued around to the Menin gate just before 8pm. The Menin Gate was built in the 1920s to commemorate soldiers who died in the area but whose gravesites are unknown. The gate surprized me, I expected it to be less deep I guess is the word, it is a lot deeper than it is tall or wide, it almost seems like a building. It is really impressive, so huge and covered with the names of almost 55 000 men from the Commonwealth. It's amazing to think that so many bodies disappeared into the mud in Ypres. New Zealand soldiers aren't listed on the memorial. Those of Britain, Canada, Australia, South Africa and India are, but I can't find the reason why the New Zealanders aren't included.

Back view of the Menin Gate

At 8pm every night since 1927, the town of Ypres has expressed their gratitude towards those who gave their lives by holding a Last Post ceremony. The traffic that runs under the bridge is stopped, buglers from the local fire brigade play the last post, and then the ceremony differs each night according to who has requested to take part. Someone reads 'For the Fallen' and wreaths are laid, normally by school groups or visiting associations, and often other musicans or groups will play as well. This night, a man played Amazing Grace on the bagpipes. This has happened every night since 1927, apart from when Germans occupied the city in WWII. Even then, they performed the Last Post in England and the day that Ypres was liberated they resumed the Last Post at Menin Gate, even though they were still fighting in the other side of the city

Last Post

It was intensely moving. I am one of those people that get teary at ANZAC ceremonies back in NZ anyway, but there was something special about being at a ceremony on the other side of the world. It makes you realise that we're not just an island doing our own thing independent of other countries, we really do have a shared history. For me, the occasion also had a lot of feeling because it reminded me that I am so far away from home, seeing things that I read about when I was a small girl growing up in a community where traveling to Australia was a big deal. I told myself then that I wanted to get out and see the world, and every now and then I have one of those moments where it hits home how far I've come and how lucky I am to be here, having all of these incredible experiences on a trip that many could never make themselves.

People gathered under the gate for the Post

The train ride back was pretty uneventful, just a nice chance to enjoy the scenery at that time of night. For me, riding on trains is still something magical and I wish there was some way I could share that with everyone, I think my explanations of the Belgian countryside don't do it justice. It just amazes me how different their concept of 'countryside' is, as here you don't go more than a couple of hundred metres without clusters of houses, and there are shops and schools everywhere, it's totally different to NZ where there is such a huge distance between farm houses and some kids spend an hour every day just getting to school!

So, it was an amazing experience and I'm glad I dragged myself out of bed to go!

More photos are here.