Mindful Trails

Tag: slow-travel

  • Cycling Slow in Belgium: Family Adventures on Two Wheels

    Cycling Slow in Belgium: Family Adventures on Two Wheels

    Last summer, we discovered just how perfect Belgium is for slow travel. Not by train, or by car, but by bike. With flat landscapes, well-marked cycle routes, and a network of charming towns and pop-up bars, it turned out to be the ideal place for a family-friendly cycling holiday. The pace was gentle, the beer was local, and the chocolate and waffles were heavenly.

    Why Belgium Works for Cycling Travel

    We based ourselves in the Flanders region, which is known for its flat terrain and gentle routes. It’s ideal for new or returning cyclists and especially well-suited to family travel. It was also connected to the Kempen Route which stretches between Antwerp and Maasmechelen, offering plenty of variety, winding through woods, across expansive stretches of heath, dunes and lakes as well as heritage mining areas.

    For those looking for a bit more adventure, Belgium also offers more challenging terrain, particularly in the Ardennes region, where hilly landscapes and forest trails await more experienced riders.

    Belgium’s infrastructure makes it incredibly accessible by bike. The terrain is mostly flat, meaning even the youngest riders or new cyclists can manage longer distances with ease. Designated cycling networks, like the well-known Fietsnetwerk are clearly signed and easy to follow, reducing stress and allowing you to focus on the joy of the journey.

    These routes link towns, parks, forests, and cultural landmarks, with plenty of rest spots, bike-friendly cafés, and surprise pop-up bars in the summer months. It’s the kind of place where the cycling experience feels effortless and welcoming.

    A Family-Friendly Freedom

    We travelled every day by bike, often with no firm plan, just heading to nearby villages, cafés, or markets. Our children gained so much confidence through daily cycling, learning to navigate, ride further, and enjoying the independence it offered.

    For us as parents, it meant slowing down enough to really notice where we were, from golden wheat fields to steam-side paths and having time to stop, paddle in streams, or simply enjoy a shaded bench under a tree.

    Renting vs Bringing Your Own

    You could bring your own bikes over (especially easy via Eurostar or ferry), but we chose to rent locally and we’re glad we did. The rental bikes were far more comfortable than our own mountain bikes at home. They came with wide seats, upright posture, and baskets which were ideal for picnic supplies or market finds. For longer days or family rides, it made all the difference.

    Bike hire was affordable and widely available, with many shops offering family-friendly options, including kids’ bikes, trailers, and e-bikes.

    Slowing Down for a Local Beer

    Belgium is, of course, famous for its beer and many of the towns we visited had open-air summer bars or taverns right on the route. These relaxed stops became part of our rhythm: a morning ride, a midday beer or lemonade, and an afternoon meander home.

    It was the perfect balance of movement and pause. Travel not just as a way of getting from A to B, but as a way of experiencing a place with all the senses.

    But a word of caution! Some of the brews are very strong.

    Reflections on Travel by Bike

    There’s something quietly powerful about arriving somewhere under your own steam. Travelling by bike invited us to engage with the landscape more deeply, moving at a pace that allowed for noticing. The way the light moved through the trees. The call of birds. The smell of warm summer fields.

    In many ways, this was one of our most memorable family trips, not for the sights we ticked off, but for the way it felt. Free, connected, and delightfully simple.

    Final Thoughts

    Belgium reminded us that adventure doesn’t need to be dramatic to be meaningful. Sometimes it looks like smooth cycle paths, a basket full of picnic snacks, and just enough sun to warm your back.

    Whether you bring your own bikes or rent locally, Belgium is ready-made for slow, mindful family travel on two wheels.

  • The Evolving Flâneur: From Urban Streets to Mindful Trails

    A Brief Stroll Through History

    The flâneur first appeared in 19th-century Paris, a figure caught between observer and participant, strolling aimlessly through boulevards, arcades and alleyways. Made famous by writers like Charles Baudelaire and later thinkers such as Walter Benjamin, the flâneur was not simply a loiterer, but a thoughtful witness to the pulse of the modern city. A connoisseur of the everyday. A collector of impressions.

    While the flâneur was traditionally a solitary, often male figure drifting through the city with a detached gaze, this role has not gone without critique. His ability to wander freely was, in many ways, a product of social privilege, economic freedom, racial invisibility and gender safety.

    What interests us at Mindful Trails is how this idea can evolve: from the disconnected observer to the eco-flâneur, someone who notices not only people and architecture but also lichen on a wall, the call of a blackbird, or the dew on the web.

    In that sense, flânerie becomes more than aesthetic, it becomes relational. No longer a passive drifting, but a quiet form of belonging. A letting go of the self-as-separate. This has echoes of Buddhist mindfulness: walking not to consume, but to notice. Not to detach from the world, but to realise we were never separate from it in the first place.

    For the flâneur, the walk was the point. The destination was irrelevant. What mattered was immersion in crowds, architecture, shadows, rhythms. This was slow observation as a quiet act of rebellion against speed, structure and productivity.

    Expanding the Practice: From Streets to Streams

    While the original flâneur wandered city streets, the spirit of flânerie can go anywhere the mind and feet are willing to follow. A country lane. A patch of waste ground. A woodland path. A canal towpath. A shoreline.

    At Mindful Trails, we’ve found that this same attentive wandering applies beautifully to natural or hybrid landscapes. Noticing the curl of a leaf. The chatter of jackdaws. The cracks in a paving stone. The worn footpath trodden by centuries of quiet footsteps. This kind of mindful wandering softens the boundary between ‘urban’ and ‘wild.’

    In fact, nature is never truly absent. The moss between bricks, the gull above the car park, the tree pushing up through the pavemen. Flânerie, when approached with mindfulness, invites us to notice that nature is everywhere if we slow down enough to see it.


    Wandering as Resistance

    In a world that values speed, productivity and goals, to walk slowly and observe without purpose is an act of quiet resistance. It reconnects us with our senses. It opens the door to creativity, curiosity and calm.

    The mindful flâneur is not necessarily a romantic figure in a long coat anymore. They are a parent on a slow walk with a child. A solo explorer taking time to watch the light shift through trees. A traveller who chooses to walk between villages rather than rush through them.

    Slowing Into Connection

    One thing I’ve noticed on my own walks is how presence changes pace. The more I slow down, the more my body begins to sync with the rhythm of the place, be it woodland, coast, or quiet backstreet. My feet respond to the terrain, my breath settles with the breeze, and my awareness gently shifts from self to surroundings.

    It’s as if I’m no longer passing through a landscape, but becoming part of it.

    In this way, the flâneur evolves from someone observing life, to someone rejoining it. Moving from a human-centred gaze to a more humble noticing of all life. The moss on the stone. The red kite calling above. The silence between bird song.

    This, for me, is where flânerie meets mindful trails. Where wandering becomes belonging.

    A Mindful Trails Invitation

    You don’t need Parisian arcades or a curated route. You just need time, awareness and a willingness to follow your feet. Whether you’re walking through a village high street the edge of a woodland, or the hinterland of the edgelands a term coined by Marion Shoard, the flâneur mindset invites you to ask:

    What do I notice when I stop trying to get anywhere fast?

    • What do I notice when I stop trying to get anywhere fast?
    • What’s usually invisible but now stands out?
    • What textures, sounds or patterns pull me in?

    At Mindful Trails, we think this spirit of exploration belongs to everyone, children and adults alike. It’s not about covering ground, but deepening it.

    So the next time you go out for a walk, try leaving your destination behind. Wander slowly. Let your surroundings speak. You might be surprised by what you find.

    🌍 Further Wandering: Related Resources


    Slow Ways – A grassroots initiative mapping walking routes between towns and cities across the UK. Perfect for slow, mindful journeys that mirror the spirit of the flâneur.

    Street Wisdom – An organisation offering guided urban walks to unlock insight and creativity through attention and presence.

  • Floating Above the Trees: A Multi-Generational Journey Across the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct

    Before children, before the website, before slow travel had a name in our lives, we took a trip that quietly shaped how we see travel today.

    We didn’t know it at the time, but this slow, scenic journey across the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct would stay with us for years. It captured something we now try to hold at the heart of every trip: the idea that presence matters more than pace.

    The journey

    Our trip took around a week, giving us plenty of time to settle into the rhythm of canal life and let each moment unfold without pressure.

    We hired a narrowboat and set off from Nantwich, a charming market town in Cheshire. From there, we joined the Llangollen Canal, heading toward one of the most spectacular sections of waterway in the UK. The Pontcysyllte Aqueduct, a 19th-century engineering marvel and UNESCO World Heritage Site. Supported by stone pillars that rise out of the valley floor like a Roman viaduct it carries canal boats 38 meters above the River Dee.

    It was a multi-generational trip—grandparents, siblings, and a shared sense of curiosity. Even without children in tow, it was the kind of journey that made us think, “This would be perfect for all ages.”

    Slow Travel in Its Truest Form

    We moved slowly. At around 4mph, everything unfolds differently. There’s time to spot herons and listen to the ripple of the water. The boat becomes a moving home, a shared space to cook, chat, read, or sit in silence.

    We took turns steering and working the canal locks, one of those beautiful bits of travel that creates natural teamwork. There were village stops, riverside pubs, and spontaneous chats with walkers and other boaters.

    We also navigated wild weather shifts. What started as warm spring sunshine gave way to sudden wind and snow as we crossed into Wales. Cosy inside the boat, we watched the weather pass through like theatre.

    And yes—at one point, my dad fell in. He was fine (albeit cold), and we still laugh about it.

    The Aqueduct Itself

    Crossing Pontcysyllte is like floating across the treetops. There’s no handrail on one side, just open air and the narrow boat pressed up against the sky. It’s not fast or dramatic. But it’s unforgettable.

    There’s something symbolic about it: a slow, steady crossing over something vast. A moment of perspective. A suspended breath.

    Why It Still Inspires Us

    Looking back, this trip was a turning point. Not because it was exotic or complicated but because it showed us what travel could be when we removed the rush.

    It was:

    • A chance to be together across generations
    • A reminder that weather can be part of the story
    • A way to connect with nature at walking pace (only on water)
    • A nudge toward reflection, not entertainment

    This trip wasn’t about sightseeing. It was about being there.

    Practical Tips for Your Own Canal Trip

    f you’re considering something similar:

    • We started our journey at Nantwich, a charming market town with good hire options and a gentle start to the canal.
    • Follow the Llangollen Canal to take in tunnels, lift bridges, open countryside, and of course the breathtaking Pontcysyllte Aqueduct. More on the route here.
    • Canal boat hire companies offer a wide range of options depending on the time you have available.
    • No prior experience is needed—you’ll be shown how to steer and work the locks.
    • Plan loosely. Leave space for weather, wandering, and pauses.
    • Go slow intentionally—that’s the magic.

    Find more at: https://www.pontcysyllte-aqueduct.co.uk/business-community/boat-trips-boat-hire/

    Final Thought

    Sometimes the most powerful travel stories don’t begin with flights, bucket lists, or epic plans. Sometimes they begin with a boat moving quietly through a valley, a change in the weather, and a family leaning into the moment.

    We didn’t know it then, but that trip was the beginning of our slowest, most meaningful trail yet.

    And yes our dad still gets teased about the canal.

  • Race to the Isle of Wight: A Phone-Free Family Adventure

    If you’ve ever watched Race Across the World and thought, “We should do something like that,” you’re not alone. We created our own DIY version—a family race to the Isle of Wight, with public transport, a small cash budget, and one big twist: our children were in charge.

    Photo by London Aaga Bits – LAB on Pexels.com

    The challenge

    The rules were simple but exciting:

    • No phones (yes, really!)
    • Cash only—no cards, no apps
    • Public transport only—trains, buses, ferries
    • Two teams, one adult and one child each
    • Final destination: The Needles Chair Lift lower station

    The idea was to encourage confidence, planning, and decision-making in a fun and unpredictable way.

    Planning Under Pressure

    Before we even left home in Farnham, the kids were given just 20 minutes to plan a route with some basic information and a train map. They didn’t know when the trains left or how to get to the ferry ports. They had to ask for directions, talk to staff, and piece together the journey step by step.

    It was eye-opening to see how quickly they adapted. From the very first challenge—finding the train station without knowing the way—they leaned into asking questions, spotting signs, and thinking on their feet.

    Parallel Paths

    Both teams independently chose to head to Southampton, and we even ended up in the same hotel for the first night. That added a cheeky layer of tension as we tried to dodge one another in hotel corridors and breakfast buffets—fueling the playful spirit of the challenge.

    Accommodation wasn’t pre-booked for the first night, so the kids had to ask prices at the front desk and decide what was acceptable. One team even benefited from a lucky room upgrade after chatting to a kind staff member—just one of the many unscripted moments that made the experience so memorable.

    Letting the Kids Lead

    What surprised us most was how confidently the children stepped into their roles as navigators and leaders. They approached bus drivers, train guards, ferry staff, and fellow travellers with questions, soaking up real-world experience in problem-solving and communication. They took genuine pride in explaining the race to curious onlookers—often with a big smile.

    Extend or Condense It

    Although this version was based around the Isle of Wight, the concept could be easily replicated anywhere. If you’re in the southeast of England, Woking or London are excellent starting points with multiple onward routes.

    Some additional reflections:

    • Add an overnight stay to stretch out the fun and reduce stress.
    • Pre-book onward accommodation if you’re travelling during peak times—but keep the journey itself unplanned for spontaneity.
    • Short on time? You can complete the whole adventure in one day, depending on your starting point.

    How to Plan Your Own Family Race

    If you’re feeling inspired, here’s how to get started:

    1. Choose a Final Destination

    Pick a location that’s reachable by public transport and interesting enough to make the journey feel exciting. Coastal spots, national parks, or quirky towns work well. The Isle of Wight was perfect because it required a ferry crossing and had natural waypoints like the Needles to aim for.

    2. Set Simple Rules

    Our ground rules were:No phonesCash onlyPublic transport onlyAdults supervise but don’t lead You could tweak this to suit the age of your children or group size. For younger children, allow limited phone use for emergencies only or set check-in times.

    3. Split into Teams

    Two teams kept things fun and competitive. If you’re a larger family, consider more teams or even joining forces with another family for a bigger challenge.

    4. Add a Surprise or Twist

    We loved not telling the kids the train times. It added a real sense of discovery and required them to interact with the world, not just follow instructions. You could also add a mini-challenge along the way: find a landmark, try a local food, or get a photo with a stranger who’s visited your destination before.

    5. Build in Reflection Time

    Whether it’s a shared meal at the end or a few days staying on at the destination, make space to decompress, laugh, and reflect on the journey. These are the moments that will stay with everyone.

    Final Thought

    In a time when everything is mapped, reviewed, and streamlined, this adventure gave us something beautifully unfiltered and real. It reminded us that not knowing is part of the fun—and that sometimes, the most rewarding adventures are the ones we don’t over-plan.

    If you’re considering your own family race, I highly recommend giving it a try. You might start with a little nervousness, but you’ll end with a whole lot of pride, laughter, and stories to tell.

    And who knows? Your kids might just surprise you—in all the best ways.

    Sometimes the best way to connect… is to disconnect.

    🗂 Download our original planning PowerPoint

    Curious how we set it up? Click here to download our route planning PowerPoint and use it as a template for your own family race

    Race to the Isle of WightDownload