Running out of place to bury people is never a good situation. In 1866, a cholera epidemic swept through Brussels and swiftly killed more than 3,000. Well, that was a bit of a problem. Quickly, the Cemetery of the Dieweg got created to palliate overflowing morgues.
Belgians being obviously deficient in cemetery planning affairs, the new death venue got rapidly saturated. After 1945, inhumations grew rare. In 1958, it closed down. Slowly, nature took over.
The crosses became one with the trees.
Ground cover swallowed the stones.
Sporadic light piercing through forests of trees gave the graveyard an eerie feel.
The neighbourhood of Uccle where the cemetery is located is home to most of Brussels bourgeoisie. Some of the tombs lie adorned with impressive monuments to the glory of the great families. Some say we are all equal in death but, I’m sorry, some tombs are way better than others.
On one hand, gigantic statues, on the other, little Jesus with no legs. Equality? Come again!
Walking around, you wonder whether you are experiencing the ultimate romantic interlude,
Or whether when you reach the end of the “Sematary”, you’ll stumble upon the “deadfall.”
While absolutely unable to deal with death on any levels, I dig cemeteries. The Dieweg graveyard falling into the category of crazy weirdness, it rates second on my top ten list. It is no wonder that Herge, Tintin’s creator, obtained a special derogation to be interred in the closed down venue.
It is only closed to the dead people, the living are most welcome to visit.