[By Jeroen Janssen in Doel] I'm going back to Doel again and again. For there is no bus anymore, I sometimes make the whole trip (60 km.) by bike.
Though the plans of the Flemish Government to demolish the village and to enlarge the port of Antwerp have not yet been approved as a result of legal proceedings by the inhabitants of Doel, the port management already acts as if the last remaining houses (even the inhabited ones) will be pulled down soon. Contractors enter the gardens, unannounced, to measure the volume of the future rubble to be cleared up, while Marina is ironing Guido's shirts in the kitchen. And the government and police turn a blind eye to the vandals who already demolish the abandoned houses, by day and (particularly) by night.
Abandoned houses. Since five years I've seen the villa above in every color of the rainbow. The house below was a flourishing bus company, one or two years ago.
Sometimes, amongst the ruins, you see yet a pretty, inhabited one. Like the one below, inhabited by Frank, who seems not to be touched by the daily street races and nighttime violence. But I am not sure, because I never met him. One day definitely I should talk to him.
Disaster tourists and children on school trip. They all come to Doel. But often, they don't see the inhabitants.
