Valikko
11.05.2026
Tekstin Belgian matkastaan osana monimuotoista intensiivikurssia CaseRiver 21 (BIended Intensive Programme, lyhytkestoinen oppimiskokonaisuus, joka yhdistää virtuaalista opetusta ja fyysisen, lyhyen ulkomaanjakson) on kirjoittanut ISYYn hallituksen jäsen Bharath Kannan (Kansainväliset asiat & ympäristö ja kehitysyhteistyö).
Some experiences are hard to summarise. This is one of them.
I'm originally from India, now doing my Master's in Environmental Sciences in the UEF, Finland. When the opportunity came to travel to Belgium for two weeks at the University of Antwerp as part of my Blended Intensive Programme (BIP) course CaseRiver 21, I made one decision early that I wasn't going to fly.
From Kuopio I took a train to Helsinki, then a ferry across to Tallinn. From there, the road trip began — through Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium and France. Long days, unfamiliar places, constantly figuring out the next step. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. Coming from India and living in Finland, travelling through the heart of Europe felt like reading a book I had only ever seen the cover of - the quiet countryside, the small towns, the changing architecture as you cross each border.
Somewhere in the French countryside, I had one of those genuinely surreal moments. Rolling green hills, wide open sky, that exact shade of blue — and it hit me. This is the Microsoft desktop wallpaper. This is actually real. I stopped and grabbed my camera immediately.
That's what green travelling gives you that flying never can. The in-between. The Europe that doesn't make it onto tourist brochures.
CaseRiver21 brought together students from multiple universities across Europe — ecologists, hydrologists, engineers — all thrown together and asked to tackle the River Scheldt together. The whole idea is integration — taking people who see the same river completely differently and asking them to build something together. My group worked on water quality and public health. The first week we travelled along the Scheldt through France, Belgium and the Netherlands, meeting stakeholders and seeing firsthand how a single river touches so many different lives and systems.
The field visit I'll never forget was walking through the Verdronken Land van Saeftinghe in the Netherlands. The mud there has a personality — it grabs your boots and simply refuses to let go. I watched fellow students sink to their knees mid-step, needing hands to pull them free. I somehow found a quick light-footed rhythm that kept me above the surface, which felt like a genuine personal achievement. By the end everyone was muddy, laughing, and oddly closer as a group. The marsh did something a classroom never could.
At the Belgium-Netherlands border, we found the spot where you can stand with one foot in each country. I stood there for a moment thinking about the days it had taken me to travel here crossing border after border and here was one that was completely invisible. The land doesn't know the difference. Something about that stayed with me.
Antwerp itself was stunning. Walking through the old town felt like stepping into a medieval painting — the kind of architecture that tells a story centuries deep. For someone from India living in Finland, every corner of this trip was a reminder of how layered and varied this world really is.
But honestly? The best part was the people. From the very first day of travelling I kept meeting people from all sorts of walks of life — and then came the students from the course itself, from different countries and disciplines, all brought together by a shared curiosity about what rivers can teach us. Some of those people are now friends I expect to keep for a long time.
Flying to Antwerp would have taken a few hours. I chose the long way instead — and it shaped everything about how I arrived. By the time I reached Belgium, I hadn't just moved geographically. I had travelled through eight countries, heard different languages spill out of café windows, eaten food I couldn't name, and watched the landscape shift from Baltic coastline to French countryside. I arrived with context. With stories already forming.
Green travelling is slower. It takes more planning and mental energy. But it gives you something a flight cannot — the actual experience of the distance you've covered. For someone studying Environmental Sciences, it also felt right. Not performative. Just consistent with what I believe.
If you ever get the chance to do a BIP course — take it. And if you can travel there without flying, do that too.
You won't regret a single muddy step.
Bharath Kannan — Master's student in Environmental Sciences, ISYY Board Member for International Affairs as well as Environment and Development Cooperation