If you have the chance to travel the world, stopping in cities where your families relatives were from is fascinating. I got the chance to do this in Belgium, when I stopped at a few places.

. traveling in Belgium, I spent some time visiting distant family and areas my fathers family used to live in. If you’ve never had the change to visit your family’s homeland, I highly recommend it…

Loncke’s Molen

For my journey, I took a bus from Bruges to Thielt to visit the windmill (molen) that we think my father’s grandmother (Marie Loncke) lived in and where his great grandfather possibly worked. The current owner wasn’t home, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him, but left my email. My dad visited this mill as well several years ago with some friends of family (that I later met in Ghent) and made a connection, so I was hoping to hear back, but never did. It was still cool to see it.

The mill was used for grain. The top portion of the mill has not survived, but the owner is renovating what is left as these old mills are now historical sites, for people to visit.

I was also able to find a link with some history on the mill online. It was called Lonckes Molen. The translation states the owners (although we do not see our family listed here) and shows pictures of the mill intact and when it was used as a checkpoint in the war.

I also found a mill where my great, great, great grandfather, Bruno Loncke, worked (online). That mill no longer exists, but it was pretty cool to see his name in print! It is called Bissegem Mill (or Molen) as that is the town it was in, and where Bruno was born and lived (also in Belgium).

Thielt

When I first got to Thielt, I stopped in a bar to have a cup of coffee before walking to the mill. I am sure I stuck out like a sore thumb in my American attire. The barman commented that I didn’t look like I was from around there…and I laughed…since it was probably pretty obvious that I was not. I tried to explain what I was there for and although the mill is just up the road from the bar, they had no idea what I was talking about. Maybe they don’t recognize it as an old windmill. Actually, I think they thought I was a bit crazy.

The coffee I ordered came with the usual Belgian biscuits and a thimble sized ‘cup’ made of biscuit, dipped in chocolate, and filled with some kind of strong alcohol (creamy/fruity….possibly apricot?). I guess I should have expected that from a bar, but not much was open on a Sunday there and I really needed another coffee.