Discover the Kempen

The older I get, the stronger my connection to the Kempen becomes. Not out of nostalgia, not as a romantic glance backwards, but as a slowly growing appreciation. For the landscape, naturally. But just as much for the people who live here, work here, and stay. You only truly get to know a region once you stop passing through it and start being in it.

I am a Kempenaar. Born and raised on sandy soil. Soil that never gave anything away for free, that demanded labour, perseverance, and above all cooperation. People often speak of the quiet, taciturn Kempenaar, a hard worker, few words, eyes on the ground. That image is not entirely wrong. But it is incomplete. Beneath that reserve lies a deep sense of solidarity and an almost extreme loyalty. Qualities that were not a luxury here, but a necessity. Survival in this region, well into the twentieth century, was only possible together.

That attachment to place and landscape is something I still feel every time I am outdoors. And perhaps most strongly when I am on the water.

For many years I went looking further afield. Wilder, more exotic places. Like so many others, I believed adventure mainly existed elsewhere. Until I began, inspired by the idea of local adventure, to really look again at what lies close to home. At rivers I thought I knew. At landscapes I had cycled through without truly seeing them.

My very first canoe trip, more than twenty years ago, was on the Grote Nete, the small river that flows through my village. Five kilometres to the next town. That was all. And yet it felt like an expedition. Fallen trees, narrow passages, unexpected encounters. I still vividly remember how a startled deer almost jumped into our canoe. Suddenly I was seeing my surroundings from a perspective I had never known before. Lower, slower, quieter.

Not long after came the Kleine Nete. At first, with mixed feelings. For many years the river had suffered. It had been straightened, confined between dikes, marshlands drained, meanders erased. What remained was often a deeply cut channel with steep, eroded banks. From a canoeist’s point of view it was functional, but the surrounding landscape stayed largely hidden. The river was no longer allowed to be itself.

Fortunately, that story has changed. In recent years, extensive work has been done to restore the Kleine Nete. Not superficially, but structurally. Dikes were moved inland, giving the river space again to flood naturally and retain water. This is crucial in times of drought, but equally important for ecology and experience.

The re-meandering at Olens Broek and De Hellekens is the most striking example of this work. Here, the Kleine Nete once again winds its way through the landscape as it always did. The water slows, the banks soften, the view opens up. Reeds, wet grasslands, birds, insects. When you paddle here today, you feel it immediately, this is a living river.

It is no coincidence that the Kleine Nete is considered one of the cleanest rivers in Flanders. You can see it, smell it, feel it. And for me, it has become my favourite river. It moves more freely through the landscape than the Grote Nete, and it reveals its richness to those willing to slow down.

For me, as a canoeist and as a builder of wooden canoes, this matters deeply. A river is not a backdrop. It is a system. And anyone who travels on it carries responsibility. Respectful recreation is not a slogan to me, but a condition. Only in this way can we preserve this place in its current, fragile beauty.

Out of this conviction grew Discover the Kempen. Not a classic event, not a tightly scheduled programme, but a weekend shaped by what this region itself has to offer. I organise it together with Stef Horemans of Charcoal Chef. What connects us is a shared love of being outdoors, of craftsmanship, and of simplicity.

During the day we explore the Kempen from the water. In wooden canoes we follow the rhythm of the Kleine Nete. No rush, no performance. Along the way there is time to look, to listen, to taste. The landscape unfolds slowly. Anyone used to speed will have to recalibrate. But that is precisely where the richness lies.

In the evening, the focus shifts to the fire. Cooking over an open fire demands patience and cooperation. Stef brings his experience and knowledge. We work with honest regional produce, flavours that belong to this landscape. There is chopping, stirring, tasting. And sharing. Literally as well, with a tasting of Kempen wine and gin, products that, like this region, are understated yet full of character.

We spend the night in tipi tents, right in the heart of nature. No luxury, but real comfort. After dinner the fire slowly dies down. Conversations fade. Night takes over. Morning begins with birdsong, fresh air, and a hearty breakfast. A person needs very little more than that.

On Sunday we explore the landscape on foot, guided by a nature guide who reads the Kempen like a book, attentively and with deep knowledge. Spring reveals itself in details. Young green growth, wet soil, animal tracks. It is a quiet conclusion to a weekend centred on slowing down and reconnecting.

Discover the Kempen is not a grand adventure. And that is precisely why it is one. It is an invitation to look again at what lies close to home. At a region often described as quiet, but one that has much to say to those who listen carefully.

Do you enjoy being outdoors? Do you love water, fire, and simplicity? Then I warmly invite you to join us for this weekend. In the Kempen. At the rhythm of the river. Around the fire. At home, yet briefly far away.

More practical information about the programme, dates, and registration can be found here