There are 15 resorts dotted along the dunes that line the entire coast, and as Belgium has been out of confinement since 8 June, everything has pretty much reopened.
Restaurants have also reopened, and the only reason to book is to ensure a table, capacity having been reduced to ensure social distancing. During an hour-long ramble I meet just one man, walking his dog. The reserve is free to enter, there are no boundaries or rangers, and several paths lined with thick heathland gorse and a kaleidoscope of sea lavender, wild thyme, evening primrose and pansy of the dunes, criss-cross the rolling dunes.
Walking back into town I pass the Sportstrand, a kilometre-wide beach where people are racing up and down on high-speed sand yachts β basically go-carts with sails β a sport invented here in De Panne. In town the weekly Saturday market is in full swing. Recent laws made face coverings compulsory in shops and museums.
I buy provisions for a lunchtime picnic β local cheeses and home-cured ham and salami β and walk over to the beach. With brightly striped windbreakers and retro bathing huts, it resembles a Victorian seaside postcard, with rented sunbeds and deckchairs laid out to ensure each group has their own bubble.
Families are having all the usual fun: building sand castles, playing beach tennis, paddling, swimming, and wind- and kite-surfing. I notice that we are also being monitored from above, with helicopters checking crowd levels.
