By Eric Deffet
(Le Soir)
The Vesdre is familiar to us, but this Thursday morning, the modest river is unrecognizable. In the heart of summer, it should doze off or barely gurgle from rock to rock, from its source on the Hautes Fagnes plateau to Chênée where it flows gently into the Ourthe. For two days, it has turned into a torrent from Eupen where victims are announced to Chaudfontaine which owes its reputation to its spring waters, a shame, passing of course through Verviers which enjoyed glory and wealth thanks to the course of water, in the days of the wool industry.
We would like to see the Vesdre, but it is practically impossible: banks and banks have disappeared.
Everywhere, access to the bed of the river is made dangerous or even prohibited.
Besides, there is no more bed.
Water has invaded everything: villages and entire neighborhoods, streets, houses, shops and businesses, fields of course.
And the search for an alternative route on the flanks of the
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