Honestly, if I take the word “Vallonia Sights” in my mouth, most think of a sleepy village that has barely more than one sign and a few old houses – I understand the hype about the tranquil land life, but this is more than just a postcard motif. Vallonia was founded in 1818, shortly after the First Indian War, and has since survived more war recruitments than some major cities have their annual festivals. The whole village is located in the heart of Driftwood Township, which in turn is part of Jackson County – a bit like the Russian Matroschka puppets of the Middle West, only without the craftsmanship.
I came by train to Indianapolis and then grabbed a bus to Seymour, from there a short drive by car – the country roads here are a poem of straight lines and occasional field paths that almost let you forget that you are even on the road. As soon as you cross the old bridge over the White River, you can feel the flair: a small cemetery that tells more stories than any museum, and a café that serves the best apple pie wide and wide (no joke, this is almost cult).
A short detour to the nearby Jackson County Courthouse makes the story even more tangible, and while you are standing there, you notice that the “Vallonia sights” are not only made of stone and wood, but of the people who live here and find new reasons to celebrate the old village.
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The first stop I put to every new man's heart is that Hoosier National Forest. I once spent a rainy afternoon exploring the Hickory Ridge Trail – a bit musky, but the view over the gentle hills was worth it. Parking is usually easy, except for the weekends when the families with their caravans flood the few pitches.
A short detour to Brown County State Park feels like visiting the Indiana equivalent to the Rocky Mountains – with fewer elites and more squirrels stealing your nuts. I rented a mountain bike there and I raided over the famous single track tracks; the adrenaline was really great, but the steep climbs reminded me that I am no more 20. The park is about 30 miles south of Vallonia, so a short trip if you don't want to use the engine too much.
If you have enough of trees, the path continues to the Blue River, which is close to Bedford. I have rented a canoe there and I have swept down the river – no joke, the water is crystal clear and the flow is just strong enough to keep you awake, but not so wild that you suddenly land in the swamp. Fishing is a popular pastime here, and the locals like to give tips where the pike bites are best.
A short trip to Brownstown brings you to Jackson County Courthouse, an imposing Italian-revival building from 1872. I made a guided tour there with a somewhat too enthusiastic history teacher who wanted to talk more about architecture than about the actual court proceedings – but hey, this is part of the charm. Parking directly in front of the courthouse is usually easy as long as you are not there on Friday night when the entire town comes together to the “Friday evening beer meeting”.
A bit further south, almost like a secret tip for romantics, stands the Nashville Covered Bridge. This wooden beauty from 1882 has survived more renovations than I have relationships, and it is a perfect place for a quick photo that you can post later on Instagram to show that you are looking for “authentic” Indiana experiences. I made a picnic there, while an older couple chatted quietly in the background about the good old times – a picture you don't forget.
For those who want to combine a bit of luxury and history, the French Lick Resort is a must. The old casino once visited by famous Hollywood stars has a modern spa and a golf course that offers more green than my entire neighborhood. I spent an evening in the restaurant that supposedly served the best steak throughout the state – I don't understand the hype around the casino, but the steak was actually fantastic.
Last but not least, a detour into Jackson County Historical Society Museum in Brownstown. The collection is small, but it contains some real treasures, such as an original 19-year-old cowfighter tool and a diary of a civil war veteran from the region. I've learned more about local history than I've ever experienced at school – and that while I was sitting on a shaky chair that snarred more than my old couch.
So, if you drive the next time across the country roads around Vallonia, don't forget that the environment has more to offer than just the small town itself. From dense forests to historic bridges to luxurious resorts – the region is a kaleidoscope of experiences that surprise and enjoy every modern traveler. And that's exactly what makes Vallonia Sights to an incomparable adventure you should not miss.
I must confess that my favorite place in Vallonia is not what the guide brochures award in bold letters – it is that Vallonia Historic Village, a collapsing museum of wood and stone that has more charm than a whole weekend in a hipster café. I came there on a rainy Thursday afternoon because I thought a bit of history could brighten my mood, and was immediately greeted by an old, crunchy court shed that seemed to tell more stories than my uncle at family celebrations. Parking is usually easy, except on Saturday night, there will be a real problem because then the annual autumn festival blocks the road and you have to hit between pumpkins and a horde children with bright eyes.
A short walk leads you to old Vallonia Courthouse, the heart of the village, which today serves as a museum. I don't quite understand the hype for old court buildings – who wants to read about old legal disputes? – but the massive wooden bench on which judges once sat has something calming, almost as if they remind you that life is not always a race. By the way, there is a small sign explaining that the building was built in 1845; I almost overlooked the sign because I was too busy opening the cracking door that refused to cooperate without a loud squeak.
Just a few steps further old school housea tiny building with a table that still carries chalk stains as if someone had forgotten to wipe them. I once experienced a spontaneous class meeting with a few locals who remember how they solved their first math tasks here – and I noticed that the sound of squeaking chairs in an empty room is almost hypnotic. If you ask yourself if the school house is still used, the answer is no, but that doesn't mean that you can't inhale a bit of nostalgia while you sit on the sticky wooden floor.
A short detour leads you out of the village into the Vallonia State Forest, a forest area larger than one would expect from a place with less than 1,000 inhabitants. I spent a weekend camping there because I thought a bit of nature would heal my city tiredness. The trails are well marked, the parking at the main exit is almost always free, and the noise of the trees is a perfect counter sound to the squeaking wooden doors of the village. Once I tried to ignite a campfire, I almost turned into an improvised bear attack – not because a bear came, but because I caught the wrong wood and produced the fire more agony than flame.
Back in the village, you can old Methodological church building not overlooked. It is a simple brick building with a small bell tower that is ringing every Sunday at 9 a.m. – a sound that I would personally call the “Alarm Clock of the small town”. I took part in a church service there, only to establish that the church was discussing more about the weather than about the sermon, which gave me a slight snare. The church is always open, so you can walk in at any time to find a little silence if you have enough of the loud cars on the main road.
Another highlight that I cannot leave is the old prison cell on the edge of the village square. Yes, you've read right – a small, rusted prison that serves as a museum today and where you feel almost like a Western movie when you open the cracking door. I took a photo that now hangs in my living room, because I find the picture of myself, as I sit in the cell, too good to delete it. Practically there is no parking, but a short walk from the main road is completely enough.
If you ask yourself what else you can see in Vallonia, just look at the Vallonia Sights that are exhibited in the small shop windows of the local shops – this is not the most elegant way to get information, but it has a certain charm because you feel that the city itself offers you a bit of its heart blood.
Finally, a little hint I almost forgot: the old town hall square, where the city meetings were held earlier, is now a quiet place with a bank that is perfect for eating an ice cream and watching people go by. I have often sorted my thoughts there while I heard the quiet sum of the grills – a sound that almost seems too loud in a city that is so small. And that's it from me, at least for now; if you like, you can convince yourself if these places are really as special as I describe them, or if you just want to spend some time in the dust of history.
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