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On a stunning day, we set out to hike to the Carrowkeel Court Tombs in County Sligo. These ancient passage tombs sit high in the Bricklieve Mountains, offering not only incredible archaeology but also some of the most breathtaking views in the region.
Starting at the first car park (space for just two cars), we followed the road towards a gate. From here, the path becomes a gravel track that gradually climbs into the Bricklieve Mountains. With every step, the views open up a little more, revealing the rolling hills and wide skies that make this area so special. Along the way, we were greeted by tiny lambs, enjoying the warm April sunshine and adding a lovely sense of life to the quiet landscape. Once you turn towards the mountain, the gentle incline quickly becomes a little bit more demanding. The path rises steadily, and you can feel the climb in your legs — but the reward is immediate. On this incredibly clear day, the views were nothing short of spectacular. From the ridge, we could see Slieve League in Donegal and Croagh Patrick in Mayo, both standing proudly on the horizon. It’s the kind of panorama that makes you stop, breathe it in, and appreciate just how special this part of Ireland is.
At the end of the gravel path, you turn right onto a narrow trail that leads directly towards the tombs. In total, there are fourteen cairns scattered across the ridge, with several of the most impressive ones perched along the summit. As you follow the path, the landscape opens up around you, and the ancient silhouettes of the tombs begin to appear against the sky — a breathtaking reward after the climb. The tombs, built around 5,000 years ago, are some of the finest examples of Neolithic passage cairns in Ireland. Scattered across the ridge, they form part of the larger Bricklieve complex and offer an incredible glimpse into prehistoric life, ritual and engineering.
The views from the top are simply stunning. Lough Arrow shimmered in the sunlight. From this height, the surrounding landscape feels endless — rolling hills, quiet valleys, and the distant silhouettes of mountains on the horizon. It’s the kind of place where you naturally pause, take a breath, and let the beauty of it all sink in, with the only sound being the soft bleating of lambs echoing across the hillside and gently breaking the mountain’s stillness.
Practical Info – Carrowkeel Walk
📍 Location: County Sligo, near Castlebaldwin 🚶♂️ Distance: 5.5 km out‑and‑back ⏱️ Time: 90 minutes at an easy pace 🥾 Difficulty: Easy to moderate 🛣️ Terrain:
🌦️ Best for: Dry days; the last section is on a boggy surface
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There’s something special about heading out for a walk on a bright Easter Sunday, and this year we set our sights on Mullaghgarve Mass Rock. We first spotted the route in Rozz Purcell’s book and, with the sun finally making an appearance, it felt like the perfect day to give it a go. Tucked away in rural County Leitrim, the trail has that quiet, untouched feel that makes you slow down and take everything in. The walk itself is only about three kilometres, but it packs in a surprising amount of variety. The first section follows peaceful gravel roads — easy going, with wide views across the countryside and the kind of gentle start that lets you settle into the rhythm of the day. Birds, sheep, stunning views… it’s Leitrim at its most honest.
After that, the character of the trail changes. The last 300 metres turn into a rocky path that winds upward, and the final push is definitely the steepest. It’s short, but it wakes up the legs. There’s a sense of stepping into older, wilder ground as you climb, the landscape closing in a little, the air getting stiller. Reaching the Mass Rock feels like arriving somewhere meaningful. Hidden in the hillside, it’s a quiet reminder of the people who once gathered here in secret. We paused for a while — partly to catch our breath, partly because the place invites you to. With the sun warm on our backs and the hills rolling out around us, it was one of those small, perfect moments that make a simple walk feel like something more.
Just beyond this area rises Iron Mountain (Sliabh an Iarainn), one of Leitrim’s most storied peaks. Known for its iron‑rich history and deep roots in Irish mythology, it adds a sense of ancient presence to the whole region. You can’t see all of it from the Mass Rock trail, but knowing it’s there — watching over Lough Allen — gives the landscape an extra layer of character. A short walk, a steep finish, a place full of history, and a sunny Easter Sunday to tie it all together. Sometimes that’s all you need.
Practical Info – Mullaghgarve Mass Rock Walk
📍 Location: County Leitrim, near Drumshanbo 🚶♂️ Distance: ~3 km out‑and‑back ⏱️ Time: 45–60 minutes at an easy pace 🥾 Difficulty: Easy to moderate — mostly gentle, with a short steep final climb 🛣️ Terrain:
🌦️ Best for: Dry days; the rocky section can be slippery after rain When you visit Porto, you really need a couple of days to soak in everything this stunning city has to offer. I, however, found myself there for just one evening. With an early flight to Dublin the next morning, I’d chosen a hotel right beside the airport. Thankfully, getting into the city from the airport couldn’t be easier — the metro runs directly into the centre, making even a short visit feel completely doable. Line E (the Violet line) connects the Airport Station directly to Trindade, the central hub of Porto’s metro network. Accessing the station from inside the airport is incredibly simple — everything is clearly signposted, and the walk takes just a couple of minutes. It’s one of the easiest airport-to-city transfers you’ll find in Europe.
After arriving at Trindade Station, my plan was to wander downhill toward the Minho, letting the city unfold naturally around me. There’s something special about stepping out into Porto in the early evening — the light softens, the streets begin to glow, and the whole city seems to exhale after a long day. I didn’t have a strict itinerary; instead, I followed the gentle slope of the streets, drawn by the promise of river views, tiled façades, and the quiet buzz of locals heading home or settling into cafés. It was the perfect way to ease into the heart of the city with only a few precious hours to spare.
If you want to admire the city from above, Miradouro da Rua das Aldas is the perfect spot. Tucked just behind the Sé do Porto, it offers one of those views that makes you pause without even realising it — the terracotta rooftops tumbling toward the river, the Dom Luís I Bridge stretching across the Douro, and the soft evening light settling over the city like a warm blanket. It’s not the most famous viewpoint in Porto, but that’s exactly what makes it special. It feels intimate, almost secret, as if the city is revealing itself just to you.
From the quiet charm of Miradouro da Rua das Aldas, I continued my descent toward Ribeira do Porto, the riverside district that feels like the city’s beating heart. The streets tightened as I walked, turning into a maze of stone steps, narrow alleys, and sudden openings that revealed glimpses of the Douro shimmering below. By the time I reached Ribeira, the evening atmosphere had settled in. The riverfront was alive with people lingering over dinner, street musicians playing soft melodies, and the lights from Vila Nova de Gaia reflecting across the water. The Dom Luís I Bridge arched overhead like a piece of iron lace, glowing gold against the deepening sky. Even with only a few hours in the city, standing there felt like the perfect reward for the downhill wander.
After a refreshing drink and a few snacks at the river front, , it was a steady climb upwards to reach the Dom Luís I Bridge. Ribeira may look flat and leisurely from the water’s edge, but the moment you turn inland, Porto reminds you of its true nature — a city built on hills, stairways, and steep cobbled lanes. I wound my way through narrow streets that twisted between old stone houses, each turn offering a new angle of the bridge rising above the rooftops. The climb was worth every step. As I approached the upper deck of the Dom Luís I Bridge, the city opened up around me. The Douro shimmered below, Ribeira glowed with its warm evening lights, and across the river, the wine lodges of Vila Nova de Gaia stood in quiet silhouette.
All in all, even though I only had a brief window to explore, I managed to get a real feel for what Porto has to offer — the atmosphere, the architecture, the riverfront energy, and those unforgettable viewpoints scattered across the hills. It was just enough to tease me, to show me the city’s charm without giving away all its secrets. One thing is certain: I definitely need to return for a few days, because Porto is the kind of place that deserves time, slow wandering, and a chance to sink into its rhythm properly.
Het Steen is a medieval fortress located in the historic centre of Antwerp, Belgium, one of Europe’s major port cities. The surviving structure was built between 1200 and 1225 as the gateway to a much larger castle belonging to the Dukes of Brabant, which was demolished in the 19th century. As Antwerp’s first stone fortification, it is considered the city’s oldest building and once formed part of its earliest urban core.
Growing up, I loved visiting Het Steen. Back then, the medieval fortress was home to the nautical museum, and wandering through its exhibits felt like stepping into another world. In recent years, a modern extension was added to the medieval castle. This new section forms the Antwerp Cruise Terminal — a contemporary glass‑and‑steel structure built onto the ancient fortress so cruise passengers can arrive directly in the historic city centre. Although it connects an 800‑year‑old castle with a sleek modern facility designed for today’s cruise traffic, many people in Antwerp dislike the addition and feel it clashes with the historic character of the site.
In front of the castle stands a striking statue of Lange Wapper, the mischievous giant from Antwerp folklore. The bronze figure, with its exaggerated proportions and looming posture, depicts the legendary trickster who was said to roam the city at night, playing pranks on unsuspecting citizens. Positioned at the entrance to Het Steen, the statue has become one of the fortress’s most recognizable features, adding a touch of myth and storytelling to the historic site. Walking through the gate, you are welcomed by the medieval structure itself. Inside, you step into a compact but evocative courtyard enclosed by the thick medieval walls of the fortress. The stone passages, narrow stairways, and weathered façades immediately reveal the building’s age, giving you a sense of how the castle once functioned as a defensive stronghold on the Scheldt. Despite the modern additions elsewhere in the complex, this inner section still feels authentically medieval, preserving the character and atmosphere of Antwerp’s oldest surviving structure.
Inside Het Steen, the contrast between past and present becomes immediately visible. One of the most striking features is the old stone fireplace, a remnant of the medieval fortress that hints at how people once lived and worked within these walls. Nearby, a modern tapestry adds a contemporary touch to the space. Its clean lines and bold design stand in deliberate contrast to the rough medieval stone, creating a dialogue between the building’s long history and its renewed role as a visitor centre. The combination of the ancient fireplace and the modern artwork captures exactly what Het Steen has become: a place where Antwerp’s past and present meet under one roof. The modern extension of Het Steen also contains Antwerp’s main tourist office, located inside the new glass‑and‑brick wing attached to the medieval fortress. This contemporary space serves as the city’s official visitor centre, offering maps, information, tickets, and interactive displays. The contrast between the sleek, modern interior and the centuries‑old stone walls of the original castle highlights the building’s transformation from a medieval stronghold into a gateway for today’s visitors.
Cycling along the N‑330, the last ten kilometres into Almansa felt like riding through a world reduced to earth, sky, and heat. With each pedal stroke, the Castle of Almansa grew a little clearer on its rocky perch. The final stretch was tough, the heat rising off the asphalt in shimmering waves, but the stark emptiness of the landscape offered its own kind of beauty—wide horizons, pale fields, and a silence broken only by the hum of tyres on tarmac. Almansa is a small but striking town in southeastern Castilla‑La Mancha, defined by its fortress rising straight out of a rocky crag. The landscape is wide and open, the streets compact and walkable, and the history stretches from medieval lords to a decisive 18th‑century battle. It’s the kind of place where you can see everything in a day but remember it for much longer, a place where the castle seems to watch over every corner.
And it is here that you find a typical Spanish town without the tourists—quiet streets lined with low, sun‑washed buildings, neighbours chatting in doorways, and the slow rhythm of a place that lives for itself rather than for visitors. After the long, barren stretch of road, Almansa felt like stepping into a pocket of authenticity, a town content in its own skin. The castle still loomed above, but down in the streets life unfolded gently: a bakery door propped open, the smell of fresh bread drifting out; a handful of metal chairs scattered outside a café; the echo of a church bell marking the hour. The Castillo de Almansa dominates the skyline, a 14th–15th‑century fortress rising straight from the rocky crag. The climb to its gates is short but evocative, following worn stone steps that wind upward toward the towers. From the battlements, the views open wide—vineyards, plains, and the clustered rooftops of the old town spread out below. Inside, the restored towers and walkways hint at how the fortress once operated, blending history with a quiet sense of height and space.
The old town wraps itself around the castle in a tangle of narrow medieval streets, each turn revealing another trace of Almansa’s past. The Palacio de los Condes de Cirat stands out with its elegant Mannerist façade, while the Casa Grande and several 17th‑century ancestral homes—like the House of Enríquez de Navarra—hint at the town’s former nobility. Nearby, the City Hall and the old communal granary, now transformed into the local Arts Centre, add a civic note to the walk. Together, these buildings create a compact but vivid picture of Almansa’s aristocratic and historical character.
 For history buffs, Almansa offers several places tied to the 1707 Battle of Almansa, one of the decisive moments of the War of the Spanish Succession. The Almansa Battle Museum gives a clear overview of the conflict with maps, artifacts, and reconstructions. Around town, the Murales de la Batalla add colour to the story through large outdoor murals, while the Recreación Batalla de Almansa site reflects the annual reenactment that brings the battle back to life each spring. Together, these spots make it easy to trace the events that shaped the town’s past.
Another great attraction is the Mirador Astronómico de Almansa, a small but striking viewpoint on the edge of town, known for its open skies and uninterrupted views across the plains. It sits in a quiet residential area and is accessible at any time of day, making it a simple but rewarding stop for anyone exploring Almansa. The mirador is designed for stargazing and wide‑angle views of the surrounding landscape. Its elevated position gives you a clear line of sight over the flat terrain around Almansa, which is why it’s used for astronomical observation. The lack of tall buildings nearby helps keep the horizon open, and the area is calm enough at night to enjoy the sky without much interference.
And then there are the many restaurants for the hungry visitors. Almansa’s food scene is shaped by La Mancha’s rural traditions, hearty mountain dishes, and a surprisingly strong fine‑dining culture for a town its size. You get a mix of rustic, comforting plates and modern interpretations—plus several standout restaurants that draw visitors from across Spain. Where to eat? Fine dining
Traditional & regional
Few places in France make the ancient world feel as present as Arles. The Amphitheatre, with its sweeping arches and honey‑coloured stone, rises right out of the old town. The Roman Theatre, the Baths of Constantine, and the long, tree‑lined Alyscamps necropolis add to the sense that the past is woven into everyday life. These aren’t distant museum pieces—they’re part of the city’s rhythm. After 160 km in the saddle, I arrived in Arles under a warm Provençal sun, legs heavy but spirits lifted by the first glimpse of the city’s honey‑coloured stone. The streets seemed to glow in the late‑afternoon light, shutters half‑open, café terraces humming softly with weekend life. After crossing Le Petit Rhône on the Pont de Fourques à Trinquetaille, I rolled closer to Arles, the road flattening out as the first hints of the old city appeared ahead. A few minutes later I crossed the Rhône itself, drifting lazily along the edge of the historic centre, its wide, slow water catching the Provençal light. After 160 km, there’s a particular kind of satisfaction in reaching a place like this by bike—the slow approach, the shifting landscapes, and then suddenly the reward of a city that feels both ancient and effortlessly alive. The amphitheatre rises above the rooftops, the shutters glow in the afternoon sun, and the whole place seems to welcome you in with a quiet, timeless confidence.
Stepping off the bridge and into the old town, the shift was immediate. The streets narrowed into a maze of pale stone, the kind that holds the heat of the day and releases it slowly as evening settles in. After hours of open road, the intimacy of Arles felt almost cinematic—every corner revealing another sunlit square, another glimpse of the amphitheatre rising between rooftops, another reminder that this city has been welcoming travellers for centuries. Although on this particular day in May it was exceptionally quiet, the stillness only made the city feel more vivid. Walking through the streets, I admired the sandstone houses glowing softly against the deep blue sky, their warm tones almost luminous in the early heat. Many of the shutters were closed, a practical shield against the rising temperature
Arles is famous for some of the best‑preserved Roman sites in France, many of which remain central to the city’s identity.
All these sites form part of Arles’ UNESCO‑listed Roman and Romanesque monuments, and together they create one of the city’s strongest draws for visitors. The concentration of ancient architecture—amphitheatre, theatre, baths, necropolis, and museum—gives Arles a depth of history that’s rare even in Provence, and it’s this blend of preservation and atmosphere that continues to attract travellers from around the world.
Of course, Arles is also closely linked with Vincent van Gogh, who spent one of his most productive periods here. His presence is still felt throughout the city, not in a museum‑behind‑glass way, but in the streets themselves. Many of the places that inspired his paintings remain part of the everyday landscape, and a series of dedicated sites helps visitors trace his footsteps.
These places make Arles feel like an open‑air gallery, where the line between the modern city and Van Gogh’s world blurs in the Provençal light.  Of course, after a long cycle, it was time to refuel. Arles has a food scene that blends Provençal flavours, Camargue traditions, and a growing wave of creative, modern bistros. It’s the kind of city where you can enjoy rustic regional dishes one night and refined contemporary cooking the next. Tucked just beside the amphitheatre, L’Hostellerie des Arènes felt like the perfect place to pause. After wandering through the quiet streets, the sandstone glowing in the late‑spring light, the restaurant’s shaded terrace offered a welcome moment of stillness. Seated outside, I ordered fresh seafood—simple, bright, and exactly what I needed. With the Mediterranean so close, the fish arrives with that unmistakable freshness, the kind that tastes of salt air and sunlight.
Arles isn’t just a stop on a map—it’s a place that stays with you. It’s definitely a place that warrants a return visit, if only to chase that same warm light, that same calm, and that same sense of stepping into a living piece of history.
Cofrentes may be small, but it rises out of the Valencian interior with a kind of quiet drama—volcanic slopes, a medieval castle perched above the meeting of the Júcar and Cabriel, and a landscape that feels carved rather than built. On this hot May morning, my ride into the village began far earlier, on the open plateau outside Requena. The air was already warming as I followed the N‑330 south, the road rolling through vineyards before the land began to shift. Somewhere past Jaraguas and Los Cojos, the scenery tightened. The wide plateau folded inward, the hills rising closer on either side, their colours deepening from dusty ochre to darker volcanic tones. The road, once straight, began to curve around the many obstacles, guiding me through stunning landscape. The final approach felt like a reveal. The descent steepened just enough to let the bike glide, and then the world opened—suddenly, unmistakably—into the Cañón del Júcar. Sheer cliffs rose in rugged walls, layered and sun‑scorched, while far below the river flashed a deep, improbable green. Along the rapid decent into the canyon, I was greeted by cooler air that carried me the last kilometres toward Cofrentes. By the time the castle appeared on its volcanic hill, the ride had become more than a route—it was a slow, unfolding entrance into one of the most dramatic corners of inland Valencia. A final climb brought me into the small village that was still asleep.
Cofrentes sits on a volcanic hill where the Júcar and Cabriel rivers meet, and the entire village seems arranged around that natural crossroads. The landscape is steep and layered: narrow streets climbing toward the castle, terraces dropping toward the riverbanks, and dark volcanic stone appearing in unexpected corners. The medieval castle is the anchor of Cofrentes, perched on the volcanic cone with views that stretch across the canyon and the river confluence. Reaching it on foot after a ride gives you a sense of how strategic—and how exposed—the site must have been.
Descending toward the river, the atmosphere changes again. The air cools, the vegetation thickens, and the soundscape shifts from wind and stone to water and leaves. This lower part of Cofrentes feels almost like a different settlement—slower, greener, and more connected to the canyon. Things to do: a. Cofrentes castle Visiting Cofrentes Castle is one of the most rewarding parts of exploring the village, especially after arriving through the canyon. The fortress stands high on Cerro de Agrás, an extinct volcano whose dark slopes give the castle an almost otherworldly presence. From the top, you get commanding views over the Júcar and Cabriel rivers, a vantage point that explains why this site became such an important defensive stronghold from the 12th century onward, when it was first built by Arab rulers. Cofrentes offers guided visits to the castle every day at 11:00, with additional morning and afternoon tours depending on the season. Reservations are required and can be made through the local Tourist Information Office: (Tourist Info Cofrentes Plaza de España, 6 Tel: +34 96 189 43 16 [email protected])
b. Thermal Spa The thermal spa at Cofrentes adds a completely different layer to the experience of arriving in the village—especially after a hot May ride. It sits in the Ayora–Cofrentes valley, surrounded by pine forest and river air, and has long been one of the region’s defining features. Two distinct spa identities exist today: the long‑established Hervideros de Cofrentes complex and the more recent Cofrentes Spa Resort, which blends traditional thermalism with modern longevity programs. c. Cofrentes river cruise The cruise follows 30 kilometres of the Júcar River canyon, one of the most dramatic river landscapes in inland Valencia. Departing from the Embarcadero Júcar in Cofrentes, the boat glides between Cofrentes and Cortes de Pallás, tracing a route carved by steep volcanic cliffs and dense, untouched vegetation. As the canyon narrows and the water deepens to a rich green, the sense of entering a protected world becomes unmistakable. Throughout the journey, guides explain the flora, fauna, geology, and history of the valley, turning the slow passage through the canyon into both a scenic experience and a quiet lesson in the natural forces that shaped this landscape.
D. Cerro de Agrás Volcano
The extinct volcano just outside the village is one of the few accessible volcanic sites in the Valencian Community. The path to the crater rim gives you wide views over the canyon and the surrounding mountains. Visiting Câmara de Lobos feels like stepping into a postcard brought to life. This colourful fishing town on Madeira’s south coast is all charm — a jumble of whitewashed houses, bright boats bobbing in the harbour, and steep cliffs rising dramatically behind it. It’s easy to see why Winston Churchill once set up his easel here; the light, the colours, and the rhythm of the village make it impossible not to slow down and take it all in. We’d walked from Funchal along the coast, following the curve of the shoreline as the Atlantic crashed below us. It’s a beautiful route — a mix of sea views, cliffside paths, and those little glimpses of everyday Madeira life that you only catch when you’re on foot. Walking along the Promenade de Praia Formosa, the coastline felt endless and inviting. Once we reached Complexo Balnear da Praia Formosa, the walk shifted into something even more relaxed. Families were stretched out on the black‑sand beach, swimmers drifted lazily in and out of the water, and the whole place carried that easy, sun‑soaked atmosphere Madeira does so effortlessly. We paused for a moment just to take it all in — the waves rolling in, the cliffs rising behind us, and the promise of Câmara de Lobos waiting just a little further along the coast.
There’s a laid‑back vibe to Câmara de Lobos that you feel the moment you arrive. Life moves at an easy pace here — fishermen chatting by their boats, locals lingering over coffee, and visitors drifting along the harbour without any real rush. It’s the kind of place where you naturally slow down and let the atmosphere wrap around you. Just around the harbour sits Pestana Churchill Bay, a stylish waterfront hotel that blends perfectly with the village’s relaxed charm. With its balconies overlooking the colourful fishing boats and the gentle movement of the Atlantic, it’s easy to see why this spot has become one of the most photographed corners of Câmara de Lobos.
With Cabo Girão rising dramatically in the background, Câmara de Lobos feels even more cinematic. The towering cliff frames the harbour perfectly, giving the whole village this incredible sense of scale — tiny colourful boats in the foreground, one of Europe’s highest sea cliffs watching over it all. Of course, you can’t come to Câmara de Lobos without trying poncha — the village’s signature drink and a proud part of Madeira’s identity. Made with fresh lemon or orange, sugar, and aguardente de cana, it’s mixed the traditional way with a simple wooden muddler. It’s the kind of drink that wakes up your taste buds and instantly puts you on island time. And after a long walk from Funchal, we happily enjoyed one or two of these delicious glasses before hopping on the bus back.
Visiting Baarle‑Hertog feels a bit like stepping into a real‑life puzzle. This tiny Belgian enclave, wrapped in and around the Dutch village of Baarle‑Nassau, is one of the most unusual border situations in the world. As you wander through the streets, the border slips beneath your feet — sometimes running straight through cafés, shops, and even people’s living rooms. One moment you’re in Belgium, the next you’ve crossed into the Netherlands without even noticing.
What makes Baarle‑Hertog so captivating isn’t just the quirky geography, but the lively atmosphere that surrounds it. The village is full of cosy cafés, local shops, and small squares where life moves at an easy pace. Following the Enclave Route, a gentle 4‑kilometre walk, is the best way to experience the village’s unique layout. Every turn reveals another surprising border marker, another story, another reminder of how unusual this place truly is. What makes Baarle‑Hertog truly mind‑bending is the way its borders ended up scattered into dozens of tiny enclaves. This unusual situation goes back centuries, to a time when land wasn’t divided by clean national borders but by feudal agreements between dukes, nobles, and local rulers. Some pieces of land belonged to the Duke of Brabant (now Belgium), while neighbouring plots belonged to Dutch lords — and when modern borders were eventually drawn, these old medieval land rights were kept in place. The result is today’s patchwork of Belgian enclaves inside the Netherlands, and even Dutch enclaves inside those Belgian enclaves. Instead of redrawing everything, both countries agreed to keep the borders exactly as history had shaped them.
The day we visited, the sun was beaming down on us — the kind of bright, easy warmth that makes you slow your pace and look for a terrace. It didn’t take long before we found one, settled into the shade, and treated ourselves to a slice of tart and a cold beer. There’s something about enjoying simple things in a place as unusual as Baarle‑Hertog that makes the moment feel even sweeter. Afterwards, we wandered through some of the local shops, each one offering its own little glimpse into village life. Baarle‑Hertog is full of those small, inviting places where you can browse without rushing .
Located between Geldrop, Heeze, and Lierop, the Strabrechtse Heide unfolds like a vast natural canvas, a place where heathland, fens, and forest blend into one of the most atmospheric landscapes in North Brabant. When we visited the heide in August, the wide‑open landscape was just beginning to turn purple. The heather was coming into bloom, spreading soft patches of colour across the plains and hinting at the full transformation that would arrive later in the month. There’s something magical about watching the heath shift into its summer colours — subtle at first, then suddenly everywhere, as if the whole landscape exhales into violet.
Great for walking and cycling, the Strabrechtse Heide invites you to slow down and simply move through the landscape at your own pace. The wide sandy paths, open heath, and gentle transitions between forest and fen make it a place where every route feels effortless and rewarding — whether you’re exploring on foot or gliding along on two wheels. We had parked our car in the visitor car park at Natuurpoort bij de Schaapskooi, a welcoming gateway to the Strabrechtse Heide. From there, the landscape opened up almost immediately — wide heathland, sandy paths, and that unmistakable sense of space that makes this area such a joy to explore.
What makes the Strabrechtse Heide so special is not only its beautiful surroundings, but also the rich history woven into the landscape. Its roots reach deep into the past, with evidence of human presence dating back to prehistoric times. From mysterious burial mounds to traces of ancient settlements, the heath carries a quiet sense of timelessness — a place where nature and heritage meet, and where every path seems to whisper a story older than memory.
On a hot afternoon in May, Elche felt as though it had been quietly waiting for me. Having cycled that day from Almansa, the journey into Elche felt like a gradual unfolding of landscapes and moods Tucked just inland from Spain’s Costa Blanca, this sun‑soaked city blends ancient heritage with an easy, modern rhythm. It’s the kind of place where you wander slowly, look up often, and let the scent of palm trees and warm stone guide your steps. The moment you arrive, the Palmeral of Elche steals the show. It’s more than a park — it’s a living, breathing oasis of more than 200,000 palm trees, a legacy of the city’s Moorish past. Walking through the groves feels almost otherworldly, like stepping into a desert garden crossed with a Mediterranean dream. Within this vast sea of palms lies the Huerto del Cura, a garden that naturally slows your pace. This intimate botanical haven feels like a world apart — cooler, quieter, and softened by filtered light. The palms seem to murmur above you, their shadows shifting gently across the paths. Trails wind between ponds, cacti, and towering date palms, each turn revealing something unexpected. At its heart stands the Imperial Palm, a rare seven‑armed marvel rising like a natural sculpture. Standing beneath it, you can’t help but feel a flicker of awe — it’s graceful, improbable, and quietly moving.
But the town itself is stunning too, its old quarter full of character and quiet charm. The Basilica of Santa María rises above the rooftops, its blue dome catching the afternoon light like a beacon. The basilica is one of Elche’s most iconic landmarks — a Baroque masterpiece built over the remains of a former mosque, a reminder of the city’s layered past. Its ornate façade, square towers, and striking dome make it the natural focal point of the old town. And if you happen to visit in August, the basilica transforms into the stage for the Misteri d’Elx, the city’s UNESCO‑recognized sacred drama — a tradition unlike anything else in Spain. The stone walls seemed to hold centuries of stories, and the soft echo of footsteps inside made it easy to imagine the generations who had passed through before me. The cool interior, dimly lit and scented with incense, offered a welcome pause from the heat outside. It’s one of those rare places where history doesn’t feel distant — it feels alive, breathing quietly through every arch and chapel.
Strolling further through Elche, I found myself drawn toward the river, where the Palau d’Altamira rises in warm stone. The fortress feels like a quiet guardian of the city’s past — solid, understated, and deeply rooted in its medieval history. Once part of Elche’s defensive walls, this Moorish‑style stronghold now blends heritage with culture, serving as both an architectural landmark and the home of the MAHE Museum. Stepping inside, the atmosphere shifts. The museum’s galleries unfold through the restored fortress, weaving archaeology and architecture into a single narrative. Exhibits trace Elche’s evolution from Iberian settlement to Roman colony to Islamic medina and beyond. Pottery, sculptures, and everyday objects sit alongside multimedia displays that help you imagine the city as it once was — vibrant, layered, and constantly changing. One of the highlights is the section dedicated to the Lady of Elche, the city’s most iconic archaeological treasure. The original bust may be in Madrid, but the MAHE’s beautifully presented replica still carries the same sense of mystery and artistry. Standing before it, you feel the weight of centuries and the quiet brilliance of the Iberian world.
Along the route, i paused to admire the Torre dels Vaïllos, which sits quietly along Avinguda de l’Alcalde Vicente Quiles. Modest in size but beautifully preserved, the tower is a subtle reminder of Elche’s defensive past. Once part of a network of watchtowers protecting the surrounding countryside, it has a sturdy, almost stoic presence. Its pale stone walls catch the sunlight, and although it isn’t a grand monument, it carries the quiet dignity of something that has stood watch for centuries. Today, the tower has been restored and occasionally opens to visitors on weekends, offering a small but meaningful glimpse into the city’s rural and military heritage. There’s a sense of continuity in Elche — layers of Iberian, Roman, and Arab history woven seamlessly into everyday life. That feeling is especially strong in the Raval district, one of the city’s most atmospheric neighbourhoods. At its heart lies the Plaça Major del Raval, a square that invites you to slow down. Shaped by centuries of coexistence between Christian, Muslim, and Jewish communities, it still feels slightly removed from the busier parts of the city — a gentle pocket of calm where daily life unfolds at an unhurried pace.
Not far from this serene square is the Museo Paleontológico de Elche (MUPE). Inside, you wander past dinosaur fossils, ancient marine creatures, and geological treasures that tell the story of life long before Elche’s palm groves existed. The displays are thoughtfully arranged, making it easy to explore at your own rhythm, and there’s a playful, hands‑on spirit throughout — perfect for families or anyone who enjoys tapping into a sense of curiosity. What makes MUPE especially endearing is its balance: scientific enough to spark fascination, yet welcoming enough that it never feels overwhelming. Guided visits and interactive activities enrich the experience, and the staff’s enthusiasm adds a warm, personal touch.
A short stroll from the heart of the old town brings you to the Museu del Betlem, one of Elche’s most charming and unexpected cultural stops. Dedicated entirely to the art of nativity scenes, the museum feels like stepping into a miniature world where craftsmanship and tradition meet. Inside, delicate figures, intricate landscapes, and beautifully crafted dioramas reveal how deeply the belén tradition is woven into local culture. Some scenes are classic, others imaginative, but all are filled with tiny details that invite you to lean in and look closer. It’s a small museum, yet it carries a quiet magic — a reminder of how storytelling, artistry, and community come together in even the most modest corners of the city. A little further along, tucked close to the Town Hall, stands the Lonja Medieval d’Elx, one of the city’s most understated yet evocative historic buildings. Its stone arches and sturdy Gothic lines hint at centuries of civic life — a place where merchants once gathered, deals were struck, and the pulse of medieval Elche quietly unfolded. Today, it serves more as a cultural space than a marketplace, but the sense of history lingers in every corner, offering yet another glimpse into how deeply the past is woven into the city’s present.
Another historical landmark nearby Elche's town hall is the Banys Àrabs, the old Arab baths. Tucked discreetly beneath street level, they’re easy to miss — yet stepping inside feels like slipping through a crack in time. The cool stone chambers, once used for ritual cleansing during the city’s Islamic period, still hold a hushed, almost sacred calm. Soft light filters through small openings, illuminating the arches and vaulted ceilings that have survived for centuries. It’s a compact site, but its atmosphere is powerful; you can almost imagine the sound of water echoing through the rooms, the rhythm of daily life in medieval Elche unfolding just beyond the walls. Another reminder of how deeply the city’s past is woven into its present. Elche may sit only a stone’s throw from the busy Costa Blanca coast and the city of Alicante, but it deserves a place on everyone’s itinerary. This is a destination that rewards curiosity — a place where history, culture, and quiet beauty unfold at every turn.
On a warm day in May, I rolled into Requena after cycling through the vineyards that surround the town. Requena and wine go hand in hand—this is the heart of Utiel‑Requena country, where centuries‑old cellars, sun‑drenched vineyards, and the deep, fruity character of Bobal define the region’s identity. Requena is a town where history and wine culture blend effortlessly. Perched on a plateau above the surrounding vineyards, it’s a place of narrow medieval streets, sun‑worn stone houses, and quiet plazas that seem unchanged for centuries. The old town, La Villa, is a maze of archways and hidden corners, with underground wine caves carved into the rock beneath—reminders of the region’s long tradition of winemaking.
For the night, I stayed at Hotel Doña Anita, right in the heart of Requena on the Plaza de Albornoz—a perfect base for exploring the old town’s winding streets, wine caves, and evening atmosphere. After a refreshing shower, it was time to visit some of Requena's tourist attractions. My first stop was, of course, Plaza de Albornoz. Located in the heart of the town, this charming square is lined with historic buildings and is the perfect place to soak up Requena’s relaxed, timeless atmosphere. Next on my wander through Requena were Iglesia de Santa María and Iglesia del Salvador—two impressive Gothic churches that anchor the old quarter. The doorway of Iglesia del Salvador is especially striking, its carved archway so detailed and elegant that you can’t help but stop and admire it.
Walking around La Villa, Requena’s beautifully preserved old town, feels like stepping back into another century. Its narrow lanes, stone houses, and hidden corners create a quiet, medieval charm that invites you to slow down and explore at your own pace. The Underground Wine Caves are another highlight—centuries‑old cellars carved deep into the rock beneath the town. Once used for storing wine, grain, and even as shelters, many of these caves are now open for tours, offering a fascinating glimpse into Requena’s long winemaking tradition. The Wine Museum of Requena is the perfect place to dive deeper into the region’s winemaking heritage. Housed in the historic Palacio del Cid, the museum brings together centuries of tradition, from ancient tools and clay vessels to exhibits explaining how the Bobal grape has shaped the identity of Utiel‑Requena. It’s a quiet, fascinating stop that adds real depth to any visit—especially after wandering the vineyards or exploring the underground wine caves beneath the old town.
Requena Castle sits quietly above the town, a reminder of the centuries of history that have shaped this region. Though only parts of the original fortress remain, wandering up to the castle offers a lovely sense of stepping back in time. From the walls, you get sweeping views over the rooftops of La Villa and the vineyards stretching across the plateau—an easy, rewarding stop that ties together Requena’s medieval past and its winemaking landscape. The Cañada Real de San Juan runs just outside Requena, a historic drovers’ route that once guided herders and livestock across the plateau. Today, it’s a peaceful path through open countryside, lined with vineyards, gentle hills, and wide skies. Walking or cycling along it gives you a real sense of the landscape that surrounds Requena—quiet, spacious, and shaped by centuries of rural life.
Requena isn’t your typical touristy destination, and that’s exactly its charm. The quiet streets invite you to slow down, wander without a plan, and enjoy the feeling of having a beautiful medieval town almost entirely to yourself.
On a wet February day, we visited Trim Castle in County Meath, its ancient silhouette rising through the mist. Below us, the Boyne River was thundering, swollen with winter rain as it carved its way past the fortress walls. Trim Castle, Ireland’s largest Anglo‑Norman fortress, sits in the town of Trim in County Meath, just 45 minutes northwest of Dublin. When visiting, you can wander the castle grounds for free, taking in the sweeping views and atmospheric ruins, or pay the entrance fee to explore inside. The 13th‑century gatehouse is especially striking: once the main point of controlled entry, it still bears the defensive features of its time—arrow loops, murder holes, and thick stone walls that whisper stories of watchful guards and long‑gone battles.
At the heart of Trim Castle stands its massive three‑storey keep, an unmistakable silhouette against the Meath landscape. Built in the late 12th century, the keep is a rare twenty‑sided design—an architectural quirk that makes it one of the most distinctive medieval structures in Ireland. Climbing through its narrow stairways and echoing chambers gives you a real sense of the fortress’s scale and the lives that once moved through its stone corridors. Just beyond the keep lie the remains of the Great Hall, once the social heart of Trim Castle. It was here that feasts were held, visitors were received, and the daily life of the medieval lordship unfolded.
Walking around the grounds, we admired the massive stone defensive walls, their weathered surfaces telling centuries of stories. We were lucky—on this particular morning, the sun finally made an appearance, breaking through the grey after one of the wettest Januaries and Februaries the area had seen.
The castle is managed by the Office of Public Works, which oversees many of Ireland’s most important heritage sites. And for anyone who follows our adventures, you’ll know by now that we have a soft spot for heritage sites—they’re always the first places we seek out.
Visiting Nationaal Park De Maasduinen on the hottest day of the year felt like stepping into a sun‑soaked world where every dune, pine tree, and stretch of heathland shimmered in the heat. The air was thick and still, carrying the scent of warm sand and resin from the forests that frame the long, narrow ridge of dunes. Even the lakes looked sleepy, their surfaces glassy and unmoving. Having parked up the car nearby “De Sluis” car park, we left the comfort of our air‑conditioned car behind and headed into the vast landscape of dunes, heather, and pine forest that makes Nationaal Park De Maasduinen feel so wild and remote. The trails were quiet with the exception of a few cyclists and hikers, each of us moving at our own slow pace in the heavy heat.
Nationaal Park De Maasduinen stretches along the eastern edge of Limburg, right up against the German border. What makes it special is its long, continuous ridge of river dunes—the longest in the Netherlands. These dunes were formed by the interplay of the Meuse River, glacial winds, and drifting sands, giving the park a landscape that feels almost otherworldly on a hot day. While walking along the edge of Reindersmeer, a beautiful lake tucked into the heart of the dunes, we eventually arrived at Speelbos De Boskoel — a playful corner of the park filled with wooden structures to climb, balance on, and explore.
The pond is crossed by pulling a steel cable across, a simple hand‑powered ferry that adds a bit of playful adventure to the walk. Even in the heat, we couldn’t resist giving it a try. Gripping the warm metal cable, we inched our way over the still, blue water, the raft gliding slowly while the dunes and pine trees shifted behind us like a moving backdrop. It was hot, and the five‑minute effort felt like a full workout under the blazing sun. From here, we carried on with our walk, but decided to be smart and head back towards the car park as the heat was becoming unbearable.
At the car park, we visited Brasserie “In de Sluis,” where we ordered a round of refreshing drinks and some well‑deserved snacks. The cold glasses felt heavenly after hours in the heat. What makes the brasserie even more interesting is that it also serves as a small museum, offering a glimpse into the history and nature of De Maasduinen. While cooling down, we wandered through the displays, learning how the dunes were formed and how the landscape has changed over time — a surprisingly enriching way to end such a scorching walk.
Every young school kid in Belgium visits Bokrijk at some point, and I was one of those children about 40 years ago. It was one of those classic school trips — wandering past old farmhouses, watching traditional crafts, and feeling like you’d stepped straight into another century. Returning now, decades later, brings a mix of nostalgia and discovery: the familiar charm is still there, but the park has grown into something even more impressive, blending history, nature, and modern experiences in a way that feels both timeless and fresh. The Open‑Air Museum is located in the province of Limburg, and it remains the heart of Bokrijk — a place where history, craftsmanship, and nature come together in a way that feels both authentic and wonderfully immersive. Within the park are three distinctive regions: Haspengouw, Oost and West Vlaanderen and de Kempen. Then there is also the 60s area, but more about each of these in a bit.
Bokrijk is big, so make sure you bring a comfortable pair of shoes — you’ll be doing plenty of wandering through forests, historic villages, and open fields as you explore everything the park has to offer. The park is wonderfully interactive, with actors bringing the past to life in the most charming (and sometimes surprising) ways. Don’t be startled if you bump into the village priest scolding a mischievous local, or spot a group of women bleaching their laundry in the sun as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. These little encounters make the whole experience feel authentic, almost like you’ve slipped through time.
Let's have a look at the three areas now: Kempen: The Kempen is the first area you enter when visiting Bokrijk, and it immediately sets the tone for the whole experience. With its sandy paths, rustic farmhouses, and traditional long‑gabled buildings, this region captures the simple, rural life of the Kempen countryside. It feels warm and welcoming — a gentle introduction to the slower pace and old‑world charm that defines the Open‑Air Museum. As you wander through the courtyards and workshops, you get a real sense of how everyday life once unfolded here, from farming routines to local crafts that shaped the region’s identity. The schuur Mol-Sluis (shed Mol-Sluis) is a play shed where you can find loads of games to keep the kids and young at heart entertained. In the village square, you find further fun activities. One of these is the stilt walking, a simple but surprisingly entertaining challenge that kids (and plenty of adults) can’t resist trying.
Oost en West Vlaanderen: The East and West Flanders sections of Bokrijk each bring their own flavour to the Open‑Air Museum, showcasing the rich agricultural traditions and distinctive architecture of these regions. As you wander through the farmsteads, barns, and village squares, you get a sense of how life once revolved around craftsmanship, trade, and the fertile fields that shaped daily routines. These areas feel a little more open and spacious, with wide courtyards and sturdy brick buildings that reflect the character of Flanders. In each building, you stumble upon little surprises. Some houses feel alive with activity — someone baking bread, another person doing the wash, or a craftsman demonstrating a skill that’s almost vanished from modern life. Other buildings are quieter, offering carefully curated educational displays that reveal more about the region’s history and culture. In the Schuur Zuienkerke, for example, we learned about the famous Belgian painter Brueghel, with exhibits that connect his work to everyday rural life. It’s these unexpected moments that make wandering through Bokrijk so rewarding, because you never quite know what story the next doorway will tell.
Haspengouw: The Haspengouw area is one of the most charming corners of Bokrijk, capturing the gentle, rural character of the Haspengouw region in eastern Belgium. This part of the Open‑Air Museum is dotted with whitewashed farmhouses, orchards, and traditional half‑timbered buildings that feel wonderfully peaceful and authentic. As you wander through the courtyards and gardens, you get a real sense of how people lived and worked in this fertile agricultural region.
One of the most unique parts of Bokrijk is the Sixties district, a colourful, retro neighbourhood that transports you straight back to Belgium in the 1960s. It feels like stepping onto the set of an old film: vintage shopfronts, classic advertising signs, old cars, and interiors that look exactly like the homes our parents or grandparents grew up in. You can wander through a recreated supermarket, peek inside a typical living room from the era, or explore the old school building that brings back memories for anyone who’s ever heard stories about chalkboards and wooden desks. It’s playful, nostalgic, and surprisingly immersive — a perfect contrast to the centuries‑old villages in the Open‑Air Museum. And although I’m a 70s child, it’s fun to spot so many items we had in our house when I was growing up.
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About the AuthorWe are Peter & Dolores De Bie. We love the great outdoors, discovering new parts of the world and writing about our adventures along the Wild Atlantic Way and further afield Categories
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