“Many wars” is an exaggeration, you think. Here are some of just the past few hundred years: The Thirty Years War, the Napoleonic Wars (there were seven), World War I and World War II... In fact, Dinant has been burned to the ground four times. Its sole bridge has been destroyed four times.
Today we are starting in Brussels and then heading southeast two hours by train to Dinant, Belgium. It’s a beautiful little town on the Meuse. I think Rommel crossed the Meuse there in 1940.
There are many trains. We use the last two slots on our 10 journey ride pass we bought the other day. Seat yourself. Our first train is to Namur. At Namur we wait a few minutes and then are on the train to Dinant. The voyage is lovely. The Meuse River starts at the North Atlantic south of Rotterdam as one of those giant fingers of water of a massive delta whose base is the ocean and whose top is to the east. The river then moves east and makes a giant curve to the south before finally starting to semi-straighten out and point south at Namur. In other words, it makes the shape of a backward question mark.
Had we more time, we would have visited Namur. It is a very historical town and has a famous citadelle. Also between Brussels and Namur was Waterloo. That too will have to remain for a future visit.
The Meuse is powerful, but I suspect I could swim it if I really had to. It’s also semi-constrained by the occasional lock permitting barges and tourist boats to navigate this and other rivers and canals that form an extensive network that perhaps reaches into France, Germany, Holland, etc.
We cross a bridge and, as I’m now facing backward, the Meuse flips from our left to our right. The bridge is square, low, riveted metal. Perhaps wartime issue. And at the end of it is a square dark gray concrete blockhouse, a permanent souvenir of the many wars that have affected this area.
“Many wars” is an exaggeration, you think. Here are some of just the past few hundred years: The Thirty Years War, the Napoleonic Wars (there were seven), World War I and World War II. Each was far more devastating than the American Revolution or the War of 1812. Each might be analogous to the US Civil War. In fact, Dinant has been burned to the ground four times. Its sole bridge has been destroyed four times.
Our train eases into Dinant station. It’s a simple two story yellow brick building a block behind the Meuse. In between are three or four story buildings: residential on top, commercial on the bottom floor. The architecture looks typically French. No guilder homes in sight.
We have our two suitcases. They roll well, and we walk about a mile, first crossing the Charles de Gaulle bridge toward the center of town.
Dinant’s contributions to the world are two darn good ones: Adolphe de Sax. You’ll never guess which musical instrument he invented. (Hint: it rhymes with axephone.) And its culinary specialty is the hard as a brick giant cookie that dates from the 15th or 18th century. It’s called the Couque de Dinant. More about this indelicate delicacy later.
Charles de Gaulle bridge has two or three graceful arches and wide sidewalks. Every 30 feet or so stands a giant ceramic saxophone. Each is decorated differently and has been decorated (and perhaps sponsored by) a different country. They include the UK, Slovenia, Spain, Austria, etc. The whole effect is lovely, and it’s a nice way to honor Adolphe de Sax.
In World War I, French and German troops fought intensely for Dinant, the French to help their Belgian allies, the Germans to defeat them. About 2,700 died in combat. The Germans decided there were Belgian snipers that had shot at them. In reprisal, they executed Dinant’s citizens all over the place: 672 to be exact. Firing squads killed babies a few months old all the way up to a lady who was 82. I’m tired of cruelty, killing, hatred and intolerance anywhere around the world.
Charles de Gaulle was famously wounded here. Dinant’s bridge is now named after him. The bridges were laid every 30 kilometers, says our tour guide. This was judged to be the distance a man could ride his horse. So initially there were ferries every 30 miles. Then inns were added. Then slowly toll houses, which was followed by communities and eventually towns.
We’re in the Francophone part of Belgium. Thank God or Dinant’s name, pronounced “Deen-ahn”, would be a less mellifluent Dingroeneonburg or something like that.
Previously I had mentioned the Couque de Dinant. Astute etymologists might connect “couque” with the word “cookie”. I know I would. In any case, it’s beautiful, but rock hard and presumably was invented to ward off invaders and break the teeth of unknowing invaders who picked them up. The Couque de Dinant even comes with instructions on how to eat it without breaking your teeth. But it’s a great dipping biscuit. Buying one should come with a complimentary cup of coffee, hot chocolate or an extra tooth or at least a coupon to the dentist’s office that is next door to each local boulangerie.
Fairytale lovely Dinant has several nicknames: “We’re not Bruges, but we’re pretty darn magical too” and “Chattanooga of the Meuse”. The town is a small version of Heidelberg, Prague, Mainz, Salzburg and other cities with a citadel on a dark grey cliff promontory overlooking a river plan. Its evolution was forced by the similar factors: military, trade, etc. The citadel evokes Masada, only lower, newer and smaller and more Catholic. Still, it’s impressive and a wonderful way to pass a couple of hours.
So we have a literal Sophie’s choice: look at Dinant's architecture or look at the cookies.
So we have a literal Sophie’s choice: look at Dinant's architecture or look at the cookies.
Template
