I don’t typically write about Belgium, and it is a shame, to be honest. If I may say so myself, my (tiny) country has a lot to offer, and I’m not just talking about chips, chocolate, and beer (though they are ok, I guess). Take those random castles you’ve never heard of, for example. The other day, I was moping around the house in a state of general discontent with the entire human experience, as you do, when Jon decided to get me out of the house for my sake and for his. “Let’s go to the Château de Seneffe”, he said (only he said it in French because that’s what we speak at home).
I’d never seen the castle, which is ridiculous because I grew up about twenty minutes away from there. Located at the heart of the Province de Hainaut, this neoclassical castle was built in the 18th century to accommodate the needs and tastes of a rich manufacturer, Julien Depestre. The Château de Seneffe stands in a 22-hectare (54-acre) domain that also counts a private theatre, an aviary, an orangery, a pond, and an island. Yes. An island. Nowadays, it also has a couple of llamas.
The visit is interesting. The rooms have been decorated as if the owners had just stepped out for a minute. Their son is back from his Grand Tour of Europe and has brought with him all sorts of exotic souvenirs. A hunting party is soon to return, and the table has been set for a light luncheon. And then, of course, the carnival is approaching, so lavish costumes and traditional masks have been hung in the antechamber.
We’ve been given slippers in order not to scratch the floors, which are old and fragile, which resulted in me almost breaking my neck on the stairs at least four times, so it is time for us to see the park. Half of it is made of French gardens, the other half is seemingly a little less orchestrated, but do not be mistaken: every blade of grass is exactly where it should be.
In the small theatre, violinists are rehearsing with the doors open and the music is flinging through the air, reaching every corner of the garden. The parrots in the aviary are jumping lazily from one branch to the other, calling the visitors all the while. Next to a pine grove, Quelqu’un (“Somebody”), a man-size bronze sculpture by Belgian artist Jean-Michel Folon (1934-2005) is standing indefinitely, looking in the distance. Or maybe looking at us. I’m left with a sense of poetry, and the day seems much brighter.
Practical info: Château de Seneffe.