The Termite Hill of Europe

I found myself in a decaying industial town. You young workers had clearly departed and the tourist guide was full of utter gibberish. I moved through the steets, noting a couple of vaugly interesting buildings but ultimately axious to move on.

But after all it was the meeting of the river Meuse and the Ardennes forest that had drawn me here. It was, however, the town that set it all off, reaching upwards to the South through layers of defensive walls, constructed in the French era by Vauban, I found gardens, concert spaces and restaurants offering magnificent vantage points over the confluence.

I sat watching the broad toungue crawling through thickly forested hills interspersed with mixed housing and industry. A moist haze settles in the distance where the flow disappeared around a gentle cliff urging me to follow it up stream deep into France.