Beaufort is Flanders’ ultimate art parcours. The outdoor triënnale runs up and down the Belgian coast, clear from the tippy-tip in the north to the deep south next to France. It’s well attended and easy to take in over a weekend – for one reason: the coast tram. If the coast tram didn’t exist, it’s very possible that Beaufort – a unique platform for extraordinary international artists – wouldn’t exist either.

That’s because the coast tram – the only De Lijn tram line outside of Antwerp and Ghent – has shaped both structural and cultural development of the coast in ways never considered when it was inaugurated 125 years ago.

To celebrate this anniversary, Ostend hosts Tram in zicht! (Tram in Sight!), an exhibition dedicated to the coast tram, one of the earliest tram lines in Belgium and, at 67 kilometres, the longest single tram line in the world.

In the 19th century, Belgium became a leader in transport infrastructure, causing the French transport company Colson to exclaim that Belgium had solved the problems that plagued the organisation of secondary railway networks in Europe. Although Britain and the US had a few short-line trams in use, Belgium created the first infrastructure to link several rail stations with the low-weight and limited framework of tram lines. Not only that, it built tram lines from Bruges and Veurne to cheaply transport labourers from their homes in the Polders to the coast – an unprecedented system.

It was on 5 July, 1885, when the very first tram rode along the tracks from Ostend to Middelkerke. Powered by a steam engine, its appearance was not terribly different from the major steam locomotives. (This was Belgium’s second steam-powered tram in fact – the Antwerp-Hoogstraten line was already in use.)

The thought behind the coast tram was mostly to transport industrial and agricultural goods, but it soon became apparent that residents of the cities would use the trams to get up and down the coast – and to inland communities.

As additional lengths were added, more and more travellers began taking the tram. Within two years, so many tourists and residents were onboard that more than twice the number of initial carriages had to be added. Soon tram lines were built between Veurne, Bruges and Ypres to the coast.

Labourers and schoolchildren could buy low-cost passes to ride the tram, but it’s clear that the transport agency Nationale Maatschappij van Buurtspoorwegen (NMVB) saw the financial advantages of tourism. Individual tram riders had to pay per mile in first class, but only for a minimum of the equivalent of €0.20. The figure dropped to a minimum of €0.15 in second class, but you had to pay extra for luggage – and your dog (who, rather fairly – or perhaps unkindly – was always charged second-class rates).

The tram was paid for by the Belgian state, together with the province and local municipalities. By 1895, competition reared its ugly head and the state contracted a British company to build its first electric tramline, between Ostend and Middelkerke. Travellers clamoured for more, and electric trams began to replace the steam-powered ones. Eventually, the NMVB bought the electric tram lines and further developed them along the coast. The entire coast was electric not long before the First World War.

The steam trams had run along existing roadways, but as the electric trams replaced them, more thought was put into where to place the tracks. Tracks have been moved through the decades and now take passengers along the main arteries, dipping into city centres. The coast tram has, for instance, brought new life in the beautiful centre square of Nieuwpoort, a 30-minute walk from the sea, but only five minutes by tram. The tram has also had a major impact on coastal development, with new hotels and restaurants vying to be located on tram lines and businesses already in place seeing a surge of business.

The NMVB was broken up in the 1990s into Flemish (De Lijn) and French-speaking (TEC) parts, and De Lijn has been responsible for the coast tram ever since. The tram lines between polder cities to the coast have now been uprooted, leaving the coast tram as the only “vicinal” – or noncity based – tram line left in Flanders. It was nearly wiped out in the 1950s by the advent of the automobile, but it struggled along until, ironically, it has now become the celebrated saviour of riders looking to escape coastal traffic jams.

Tram in sight

The Tram in Sight exhibition has wisely attempted to keep technical and historical information at the accessible level so that casual visitors will not be overwhelmed with engineering concepts or development politics over the years. (However, for those who are interested in such facts, the exhibition book, The Coastal Tram, published in English, Dutch and French, will keep you entertained for hours.)

After the entrance of dozens of model trams and trains seemingly hanging in the air – which is both informative (for train lovers) and artistic (for the rest of us) – you’ll find information on the history of the coast tram and a great, metres-long satellite image map of the entire line. Tram maps, schedules and signposts from different decades place you in the past until you reach several rows of old tram seats with headphones. Put them on to hear stories (in Dutch) from tram riders, workers and others for whom the coast tram has some kind of meaning.

In a room all on its own (befitting its visual import), a beautifully restored 19th-century tram car shows the velvety plush first-class passengers were used to. This plush is also visible in the paintings of Paul Delvaux, who lived on the coast for many years until his death in 1994. He was famously obsessed with two things: female nudes and transport, reproducing accurate engineering aspects of both in his surrealist work, nearly always in the same painting. You’ll find just two of his works here, which will leave you wanting more.

Work by the famous outsider artist Willem van Genk is also here; both artists surround objects such as large train models and a huge metal credenza of file drawers once used in an old NMVB office. Open them up to find ancient documents.

The end of the exhibition, though, just might be the most intriguing. Video screens play interviews with Brussels-based visionary architect Luc Schuiten and Georges Allaert, professor of urban planning at the University of Ghent. Coming from different perspectives, they eloquently reach the same conclusion: cars are killing us; get on the tram.

Schuiten additionally has provided drawings of his “Neptunus Plan”, a series of extremely small and light-weight tram cars. They are designed for one or two people – hop in and tell it exactly where you want to go. Tracks would be located in all major streets and most small ones. Readily available everywhere and at all hours, the tram cars would effectively replace the automobile.

It sounds too idealistic, but compare it with the “utopian” vision for the coast tram line of the 19th century, displayed earlier in the exhibition. It all came true in less than 100 years.

http://125jaarkusttram.delijn.be