As we drive near to the port of Antwerp, a few houses come into view, lonely structures in the midst of the Polder plains. We turn right into a solemn street. Our light-hearted conversations abruptly halt and we continue driving in silence, for we have entered Doel, a small town near Antwerp.

It once counted over a thousand inhabitants, but now a mere twenty inhabit the ghost town. The fate of the village has been in limbo for decades, threatened with demolition due to the expansion of Antwerp’s port. While surrounding towns were quickly swallowed by the port of Antwerp, Doel managed to survive. Over the years, plans changed, inhabitants put up an admirable fight, and the government was never able to execute any of the plans drafted up for the seemingly doomed town.

Bezoek Doel

Lonely chair in Doel Belgium
Graffiti Doel

Street art Doel Belgium

Now an empty shell remains, with the last who stayed holding onto a glimmer of hope that Doel might survive – but at a significant cost.

The street is eerily quiet. It isn’t the emptiness that unnerves me, but the weeds sprouting from each crack, the unmowed lawns, once lush manicured grass, now wave untamed in the cool air. Grand houses show a glimpse of the former lively town. Graffiti adorns its walls, and slogans remind visitors of the town’s struggles.

We park our car by the church, one of the few buildings the government maintains in the village. The illusion of a deserted town is quickly broken by a parked bus. Doel attracts many types of tourists these days. Urbex photographers, as well as film students and the curious tourist walk the streets of this abandoned town. The bus leaves shortly after our arrival and we are alone, once again.

Street in Doel Belgium

Visitors in Doel Belgium
Doel spookstad Belgium

Doel Spookstad

Occupied house in Doel
Empty room in Doel Ghost Town Belgium

Sofa in house Doel

An elderly lady is sweeping the front porch of a house, and I notice the building is void of broken windows or graffiti. She stops and waves at the passing bus before continuing to sweep without a care in the world. I wonder what the inhabitants think of all these visitors.

I quickly put my camera away as I pass her on the other side of the street. I feel embarrassed, a shameless intruder satisfying my curiosity of all things decaying on my visit to Doel, her town… her home. After walking a few hundred meters, I look back at the woman. She was still sweeping as a young photographer approached her. She doesn’t avoid him, instead, they start a long conversation… Maybe they don’t mind the visitors after all.

Ghost Town Doel

Broken toilet in Doel spookstad
Sofa in Doel spookstad

Broken Doel

Street art on houses Doel
Doel street art Belgie

abanoned house Doel

As we make our way through the empty streets, we encounter many signs warning against entering the buildings. Out of respect, we never do. Through the broken windows and open doors, we catch glimpses of the abandoned homes –a home where families made memories – now reduced to a few chairs, pots and pans, and rubble strewn around the floor…

We walk up to the dyke, usually a serene place where one can enjoy nature around you. Instead of a peaceful scene, the port of Antwerp greets us. As the second largest port in Europe – and one that can accommodate the largest container ships in the world – it has a constant need for expansion. Even if that expansion comes at the price of the surrounding villages and the families who have lived there for many generations.

Doel power plant Belgium

wind mill Doel spookstad
Lonely bench in Doel

Doel kerncentrale

The sunny weather is in stark contrast to my feelings, which are turning more sombre with every step I take, with every house I pass, with every slogan I read. I need a moment to myself as I leave the dyke and walk back to the car.

On the side of a house, I spot a paragraph neatly written in white paint. I stand in front of the text, for seconds, no, minutes, maybe five, or closer to ten. I read the words over and over, which plunge me deeper and deeper into sadness.

In time, when the many beautiful memories
Have taken the place of my grief,
I might be able to express in words
What I can now only tell with tears.

7 COMMENTS

  1. Gosh what a place to explore. I was intrigued by the windmill with the power station in the background. The old lady you hid your camera from would probably have welcomed the company. It sounds a lonely place to live. Fascinating.

  2. Wow, I’ve never heard of this amazing little ghost town! I definitely want to add it to my trip while I’m in Brussels. Thank you!

    Natasha T.

  3. wow so sad had to look in to why this town is empty. unfortunately its getting to be like this all over the world . Seems as if no on cares about us the ones who they need to thank and not hurt and run off, if not for us they would not exists . Bless you all in your times of need!

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