Stories

Through the Ardennes with the van: our favorite stops

Forests, rivers, and quiet villages. A slow route through the south of the country, at our own pace.

La Roche-en-Ardenne, Luxemburg

By Marie Devos · 12 June 2026

A converted van with an open sliding door at the edge of an Ardennes river valley in the morning mist, with two steaming coffee mugs on a small wooden table and a view of the water and forested slopes.

The Ardennes have something you don't need to explain. You feel it as soon as the road narrows, the stone houses appear, and the first bends force you to slow down naturally. The landscape adapts to your pace. Not with much noise, but very gently. As if it's saying: take it easy, you're here.

We left without a strict plan. That's usually how our best trips begin. No list of twenty things we absolutely had to see, no schedule, no pressure. Just a few days off, a full water tank, some food in the cupboard, hiking boots under the bed, and enough coffee for the road.

We quickly left the highway behind. From then on, we chose the smaller roads. Those roads where you get something different around every bend: an open field, a dark patch of forest, a village with three streets, a small chapel, a bridge over clear water, a hill where the van has to work a bit. That, for me, is the charm of traveling with a van. You're not on your way to a single destination. The route itself becomes the story.

Waking up near La Roche

Our first real stop was near La Roche-en-Ardenne. It was already late when we arrived. Not dark dark, but that blue evening light where everything seems quieter. We found a peaceful spot at the edge of the greenery, prepared something simple, and opened the door for a moment to let the evening air in.

At night, you heard almost nothing. Occasionally some leaves, a car in the distance, then silence again. You don't find that kind of silence everywhere anymore. It naturally calms you down.

The next morning, mist hung between the trees. Not a thick mist that obscures everything, but a soft haze that slows everything down. We sat with coffee at the van door and just looked outside. No music. No phone. Just the steam from the mugs, moisture on the grass, and that typical Ardennes green that remains beautiful even in grey weather.

La Roche itself is, of course, not an unknown place. You have the Ourthe, the hills, the cobblestones, the castle above the town, and enough small streets to wander around. But what I particularly like about it is that you can quickly get out of it again. Within a few minutes, you're back among the trees or along the water. That balance between village and nature makes it a good first stop.

We got bread from the bakery, walked a bit through the center, and then drove on without haste.

Along the Ourthe

When you drive through the Ardennes, water is never far away. The Ourthe kept reappearing. Sometimes next to the road, sometimes under a bridge, sometimes suddenly between the trees. We didn't follow it perfectly, but it became a kind of loose thread through our route.

We stopped where it felt good. A place with a view of the water. A bench on a hiking trail. A small village where time seemed to pass more slowly. That might sound a bit vague, but that's how we prefer to travel. Not everything has to be a highlight. Sometimes a stop is simply good because you can breathe for a moment.

By the river, you also notice how different the Ardennes are from the rest of Belgium. Everything feels less crowded. The air seems more spacious. Even when there are other people, there's still room. You hear water, birds, sometimes a dog in the distance. And if you walk a bit further than the first parking lot or viewpoint, it quickly becomes quiet.

We didn't do a strenuous hike that day. Just a few short stretches. Shoes on, jacket with us, a bit of climbing, a bit of descending, back to the van for coffee. That's the advantage of having your home on wheels with you. You don't have to lug everything around. You walk, come back, dry your shoes, make something warm, and only then decide what the rest of the day brings.

A slow afternoon in Durbuy

Durbuy is well-known, perhaps even a little too well-known. In high season, it can be busy, and honestly, that's not entirely what we're looking for. But outside the busiest times, the town still has a lot of charm. Especially if you arrive early or a bit later in the day.

We parked outside the hustle and walked in. Narrow streets, stone facades, small shops, terraces, flowers, tourists slowly looking around. It's not the wildest vanlife spot, but sometimes it's nice to just be cozy.

We didn't stay long. A coffee, a short walk, some people-watching. After that, we had enough and sought out the quiet again. That's the trick for me with popular places: you don't have to avoid them, but you also don't have to force them. Go look, enjoy for a moment, and leave when it no longer feels good.

What I like about the Ardennes is that you can always do that. You drive ten minutes and the landscape takes over again. Away from the crowds, back to forests and bends.

The most beautiful stops are often unplanned

Our favorite stop of the trip wasn't on any list. It was just a road that narrowed, then a small path to an open spot, and a view over a valley that left us both speechless.

No sign. No attraction. No photo on a travel blog we had saved. Just a place where the light was good and where we arrived at exactly the right moment.

We stopped the van and stayed longer than planned. Chairs out, shoes off, coffee ready. One hiker passed by and nodded kindly. After that, nothing. Only wind through the trees and water somewhere below.

Those are the moments we do this for. Not because they are spectacular, but because they feel like yours. You didn't book them, didn't reserve them, didn't plan them. You just stumbled upon them.

I think vanlife in Belgium often lies precisely in that. We don't need vast deserts or endless mountain passes to find a sense of freedom. Sometimes a small open spot in the Ardennes is enough. A quiet road. A forest edge. A river. A morning without haste.

Bouillon and the bends to the south

Later, we drove towards Bouillon. The road there was perhaps even more beautiful than the destination itself. Bends, elevation changes, stretches of forest, small villages where you automatically drive slower. The van felt completely at home there. Not fast, not conspicuous, just quietly blending with the landscape.

Bouillon has something rugged about it. The Semois, the bridges, the castle above the city, the rocks and the green slopes around it. It feels more southern than you expect in Belgium. As if you're further from home than you actually are.

We walked along the water and left the day open. No big plans. Just seeing what we felt like doing. Eating a sandwich on a wall, taking some photos, looking for a quiet spot for the evening.

The Semois is a different river than the Ourthe. It feels softer and at the same time wilder due to its surroundings. The bends, the viewpoints, the forests around it. If you like to travel slowly, you can easily stay in that region for days without feeling like you're missing anything.

Evenings without needing much

In the evening, a van becomes small. Especially after a day outside. But that doesn't have to be bad. On the contrary. After a day of hiking, driving, and looking around, it's actually nice that everything is close by.

We made a simple meal. Nothing special. Pasta, some vegetables, sauce, cheese on top. Outside, it slowly got dark. Inside, warm light glowed. The windows fogged up a bit, so we opened a crack. Such small practical things are also part of it. Vanlife isn't just beautiful photos. It's also washing dishes in a small sink, letting socks dry, knocking mud off your shoes, and knowing where your flashlight is.

But precisely because of that, it feels real. You live closer to everything. To the weather, to the light, to your belongings, to each other. You notice more quickly what you need and what you don't.

That evening, we heard water in the distance. Occasionally an owl. Otherwise nothing. We sat in the doorway for a while with a blanket around us and said little. Not because there was nothing to say, but because the moment was enough.

Small villages, great charm

One of the things we always appreciate anew in the Ardennes are the villages. Not just the well-known names, but especially the small places you almost accidentally drive through.

A church, a bakery, a few houses against the slope, an old bridge, smoke from a chimney, someone walking their dog and nodding kindly. It's not grand, but it lingers.

We stopped in such a village because we needed bread and ended up staying for almost two hours. Not because there was much to do, but precisely because there was little we had to do. We drank coffee, walked up a street, looked out over the rooftops, and descended back to the van.

For me, that's one of the most beautiful forms of travel. Not consuming a place, but moving with it for a while. Not everything has to be an activity. Sometimes just being somewhere is enough.

Hiking without performance pressure

The Ardennes invite you to hike, but we've learned to do it our way. Not every hike has to be long. Not every route has to promise the most beautiful view. Sometimes you just want to walk through the forest for an hour and come back with cold cheeks and a clear head.

We chose hikes by feel. A sign here, a path there. Sometimes we turned back sooner because it got too muddy. Sometimes we walked further than planned because the path remained beautiful. That's the advantage when you don't plan too strictly.

Always bring good shoes, though. The Ardennes can be slippery, wet, and muddy, even when the weather is good. An extra pair of dry socks in the van is also not an unnecessary luxury. That doesn't sound romantic, but dry feet make a huge difference.

Coming back to your own bus after a hike remains one of the best feelings. Jacket off, shoes aside, water on, something to eat. Outside it may be wet or chilly, inside it feels like coming home.

Our favorite stops on this route

If I were to summarize this trip in stops, these are the places that stuck with us the most.

Respectful travel remains important

Because we travel with the van, I always try to be extra aware of where we are and how we behave. Especially in the Ardennes, where nature and villages are close together.

We leave nothing behind. We don't make noise. We don't spread out as if a place belongs to us. We ask kindly when necessary. And if a place doesn't feel right or is clearly not meant for staying, we drive on.

That's not a limitation. That's just part of traveling. The more respect we show, the greater the chance that this kind of travel remains possible. Especially in Belgium, where space is limited and people can quickly be bothered by bad behavior.

For us, free travel doesn't have to mean that anything goes. It mainly means taking responsibility yourself.

Why the Ardennes keep calling

After a few days, we drove home with mud on the mats, empty coffee bags, wet hiking boots, and a head that felt much calmer than when we left.

That's what the Ardennes do. They are close, but feel far enough. You don't have to cross a national border to feel like you've gotten away. You don't have to take weeks off. Even two or three days can be enough to feel space again.

And perhaps that's precisely why this region fits so well with vanlife in Belgium. It proves that adventure doesn't always have to be grand. Sometimes it's in a winding road, a quiet morning, a river next to your door, and a cup of coffee as the mist lifts between the trees.

We left with the idea of collecting a few favorite stops. We came back with something better: the feeling that slow travel is still possible here, as long as you take the time for it.

Finally

Traveling through the Ardennes with the van is not a race from sight to sight. It's the opposite. It's slowing down. Stopping where it feels good. Walking into a village without a goal. Following a river because it happens to go in the same direction. Waking up among trees and only after the second coffee deciding what you're going to do.

Our favorite stops ultimately weren't just La Roche, Durbuy, or Bouillon. They were mainly the moments in between. The small roads. The mist. The bakery in a village we almost passed. The walk that didn't have to end anywhere. The evening when we only heard water and an owl.

That's precisely why we do this.