Solwaster, Liège, Belgium
We usually plan our outings around good weather. We compare weather apps, hope for that little yellow sun icon, and sigh when clouds appear on the forecast. As if a successful hike depends entirely on a few extra degrees or a clear blue sky.
During an Easter weekend in the Ardennes, I discovered just how wrong that way of thinking can be. We headed to Solwaster in Belgium's Ardennes for our first walk. The sky was grey, the rain fell steadily, and enthusiasm was in short supply. On paper, a walk through the woods is not always the first choice for two teenagers. A walk through the woods in the rain even less so.
But, as is often the case with hiking, the doubts disappear as soon as you set off. We followed a stream through the forest, crossed small bridges, and listened to the constant sound of water rushing between the rocks. It was beautiful. And wet. Very wet.
That evening, we warmed up in our holiday cottage and checked the forecast once again. More rain. Much more rain. I looked at those forecasts the way an investor looks at a stock market crash: hoping tomorrow would be better.
Pushing Through the Rain
The following day, we headed to Xhoffraix. The rain came with us. Not the romantic kind that writers love to describe. The real version. Wind creeping under your hood.
Rain falling almost horizontally. Cold fingers. Soaked hiking boots. And a youngest daughter openly wondering why anyone would do this voluntarily.
Two hours later, when we made it back to the car, we were completely drenched. But also a little proud. Two hours earlier, nobody had wanted to get out of the car. Now we were standing there, laughing in the rain. Apparently, shared discomfort turns into a memory much faster than a comfortable afternoon ever does.
Taking Shelter in Stavelot
That afternoon, we admitted defeat and escaped to Stavelot Abbey. Surrounded by race cars, planets, and photographs from the Hubble Space Telescope, we sheltered from the weather. Yet the rain kept finding us. Every time we stepped outside, it was there again.
Hiking the Hoëgne After Days of Rain
On our final day, it finally stopped. Or rather, it stopped just enough. We drove back to Solwaster for a hike along the Hoëgne, considered by many to be one of Belgium's most beautiful walking trails.
The official access point required crossing the stream. After days of rain, that stream had transformed into a raging torrent. I looked at the water, looked at our car, and decided that a car is still not a boat. So we parked a little farther away and started walking.
It was not our first time on this trail. We thought we knew exactly what to expect. That turned out to be a mistake. After days of rainfall, the stream had changed completely. The Hoëgne was no longer flowing through the landscape. It was commanding it.
Water crashed down small waterfalls we barely remembered noticing years earlier. The stream churned between rocks. Tree roots disappeared beneath foaming rapids. Everywhere, the same sound filled the forest. Moving water. And then it finally clicked.
All the rain we had spent three days fighting against was precisely the reason this hike had become so extraordinary.
Berliner doughnut to celebrate
We had seen the rain as an inconvenience. Nature had seen it as an architect.Some experiences are not memorable despite the challenges. They are memorable because of them. Without the rain, we would never have seen the Hoëgne like this.
Along the way, we stopped for a simple picnic. Nothing gastronomically remarkable. Just an oversized Berliner doughnut on a bench beside the water. Exactly when our legs were beginning to feel tired. Some memories are surprisingly simple.
When we returned to the car after nine kilometres, nobody said much. That is usually a good sign. Wonder rarely arrives loudly. It slips in quietly. Between muddy hiking boots, wet forest trails, and photographs that can never fully capture what you have seen.
Perhaps we spend too much time trying to optimize the conditions. For the perfect hike. The perfect holiday. The perfect day. When in reality, some experiences become special precisely because the conditions refuse to cooperate. Because they force us to see things differently. The Hoëgne was not more beautiful despite the rain. It was more beautiful because of it.
Our journey doesn’t end here. ❤️
From African wildlife to Asian adventures and the incredible landscapes of Canada, we’ve collected quite a few stories along the way.
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