JS

A rant about the local fear of water and the drowned potential of the country's seaside.

I like Belgium. Beautiful cities provide a wealth of programming for the public, the trains have high standards, cycling here is cool, the climate is moderate, it is a good place to work, and I met fine people here. There are also pretty natural features to be found. The local hills do not match more mountainous regions, but they can still be charming, and there are some magnificent bodies of water.

Yet, enjoying open water in Belgium is an afterthought, perhaps best demonstrated next to what could be the crown jewel of Belgian waters: the North Sea.

The Belgian seafront suffers from some puzzling sea and land use decisions. First, because the cities form a homogenous concrete wall when viewed from the sea, it would be welcomed if the seaside zones between the built-up areas provided peaceful natural landscapes to offset it. Alas, a lot of what could serve as such has been converted to a broad highway, which is anything but peaceful.

It's not that there wouldn't be any other way to get around; see the rails in the image? They belong to the longest tram line in the world, which can transport people along the entire Belgian seaside. However, since the highway also runs along the coast and has abundant free parking, it is so convenient for anyone with a vehicle that they can't be bothered with the alternative and clog the coast into what might as well be the longest parking lot in the country. All the space devoted to cars leaves little room for nature and decent bike paths. Cities feature greenways near the sea, but the moment you leave the urban areas, you have to join the highway if you want to stay close to the shore. Granted, the highway has a bike lane, but aside from a few exceptions, it's a pathetic one surrounded by speeding traffic and parking. The region's official tourism website says that they are "crazy about cycling" [1], and while one can find some excellent cycling paths inland, you'd never guess it if you'd only see the coastline.

The seaside area that wasn't claimed by the cities or the highway features dunes. Finally, they offer pleasant vistas. However, while there are a few walking trails, most are explicitly forbidden for bikes. It could seem reasonable, so pedestrians have enough space, but that perspective holds only before realizing all the space wasted by the highway. As it frequently is, the highway isn't the best for outlooks, so you often can't see the dunes or the sea when you cycle (or drive) on it. Meanwhile, the Netherlands, despite having a higher population density, offers cycling paths through its dunes:

It is not only about getting around; the bike paths in the Netherlands can also take you directly to the sea, which is limited on the Belgian coast outside the cities. As such, Belgium robbed itself of experiences like this:

Now, compare the environment pictured here with the highway. Both images show comparable dune areas near the North Sea, and a road that helps people to reach places. Which one motivates you to visit the coast more?

But my biggest gripe lies with the authorities' approach to the open water. Swimming in the sea is forbidden without the coastguards' supervision; much of the water is only decorative.

Thankfully, the Belgian seaside has 84 lifeguard posts [2], which is a great asset to the coast. However, because fewer than 60 legal natural open-water options exist elsewhere in the country [3], many Belgians cannot legally bathe in a lake or river where they live and must travel to do so. Since the few freshwater legal zones are afflicted by restrictions of size and availability similar to those at the seaside, and most have paid access as a bonus, people might as well travel to the sea, and the 84 posts quickly become inadequate. So, let's look at the restrictions and examine how they work.

First, it's the availability. While a few lifeguard posts are staffed during limited days between mid-May and mid-September, most are operational only in July and August from 10:30 to 18:30 [2], sometimes less if the guards feel like it. I can appreciate that it's when most families go to the sea. But then, if I want to go for an after-work swim in the summer evening, I am out of luck, no matter the long and warm days. Same story if there's a 30°C weekend in early May or late September. Second, the size: even when the guards are present, the area they oversee can leave much to be desired.

Since the legal zones are pretty narrow and many people go to the water for play or to cool down, the ability to swim near the shore is often restricted; one has to go further to have a bit of room. It tends to be while I can still stand on the seabed—not too far, in other words. Yet, I had occasions when the guards came with a boat to tell me I was beyond what they consider acceptable. I stopped swimming and stood up, with my shoulders outside the water, but it did not matter. "Closer to the shore!" I was ordered. It always felt excessive and frustrating, considering that it's not that there wouldn't be more room; outside the legal swim zones, the beach has maybe a 500m buffer, and then it sits empty, including the sea.

I asked locals how they feel about the restrictions and whether they are enforced. A few told me they got a fine, up to hundreds of Euros, for unsupervised swimming. That is quite a discouragement, and it explains the empty beaches even at the height of summer. Others, on the other hand, praised the ban as a good safety measure.

I understand that water can be dangerous, and I also want people to be safe. In 2022 (the latest available data), Belgium reported 75 people dying by accidental drowning [4]. That is 75 too many. However, the dangers of swimming can be accounted for by acting responsibly, in the same way that one has to be responsible while doing other potentially dangerous activities, which Belgium (and any other country) is full of. Cycling, for example: 100 cyclists died on Belgian roads in 2022 [5], yet Belgium did not outlaw cycling while wearing clothing as protective as a swimsuit, and drivers can legally overtake those cyclists at 90 km/h at places. It is a personal responsibility. Alcohol consumption can also be dangerous. In 2021 (the latest available data), Belgium attributed more than 4,000 deaths to alcohol use [6], but it also legally allows anyone as young as 16 to drink as much beer as they want. It's down to personal responsibility. Even if the alcohol deaths dropped by a thousand in 2022, it would still be over 40 times deadlier than swimming. Still, god forbid you take a dip in an unauthorized open water!

Those advocating the removal of personal responsibility from swimming might say that the number of drownings being so much lower than the alcohol deaths is because the ban is in place. However, unsupervised swimming is perfectly legal in Scotland, where the seas also have currents and tides; moreover, the water temperatures are generally colder. Scotland reported 45 accidental drownings in 2022 [7]. If we adjust that number for Belgium's population and coastline length, we'd get approximately 0.33 deaths per year—roughly one every three years [8]. That number would be even smaller if we accounted for all the inland waters. The ban does not make Belgium safer to swim, and I'd argue that enforcing it does the opposite. The limited opportunities to practice led to generations of less confident open-water swimmers. Belgium could have gone a similar way to Scotland. They could have installed "At your own risk" signs around the coast informing people about the potential dangers and swimming tips, which would educate people about the amazing resource that water is. Instead, they spent the money on the abundant "No Swimming" signs, which teach people nothing but to fear water. For a seaside country, I think that is ridiculous.

---

The Belgian coast is close to being fantastic. The entire area has great accessibility; there are even ferries taking people and cyclists across the ports in Oostende and Nieuwpoort free of charge. The coastal cities organize festivals and boast seafront promenades with loads of cafes. The seaside has playgrounds for kids and a wealth of public sculptures, further boosting the destination's attractiveness. The sculptures range in size, themes, and, arguably, quality. As such, I could find one that subsumes how it feels to witness the good qualities being let down by butchering the user experience through the inability to swim except for the restrictive zones, and prioritizing car visitors at the expense of others:

---

Sources (tap to view):

1. 1. Visit Flanders: Cycling in Flanders: a marriage of sport and tradition
   2. IKWV: Locations
   3. There are 36 legal natural outdoor swimming areas in Flanders (Outdoor Swimming), but three (Antwerpen, Brugge, and Overijse) are closed as of the writing of this article. Valonia has 33 legal outdoor swim zones, but eight are closed (ODWB). Brussels has none (Outdoor Swimming).
   4. Eurostat: Causes of death - accidental drowning and submersion per country
   5. Statbel: Road accidents
   6. For a healthy Belgium: Burden of alcohol use
   7. WAID Scotland 2022 Summary for Water Safety Scotland
   8. The Scottish seaside is about 18,743 km (marine.gov.scot), while Belgium has 65 km (Kustportaal). The 2022 population in Belgium was roughly 11.6 million (Statbel) and 5.4 million in Scotland (Scotland's Census).

All accessed in Aug.2025