Awfully Beautiful - Antwerp and Brussels

Oct 22 – 28, 2006

Collecting baggage, running to three counters to change rail tickets, getting past immigration and customs and finally running to the railway station all in a span of 28 minutes is always not the nicest way of entering a city. When I arrived at Schipol International airport (Amsterdam) at 1245 and had to make it to the train to Antwerp at 1313 I was almost sure I would miss the train but the daily running routine helped me somehow make it to the train. I did not want to miss the training session the next day, the main purpose of my visit.

The halcyon countryside, the little Dutch villas and the perfectly chilled air made me sad to disembark at Antwerp Berchem station but had made up for the missed heartbeats. By 1600 when I arrived at the hotel it was almost dark, which normally depresses the life out of me. So I called on my good German friend Annika. Armed with a map of the city I set out to find a place in a strange town. The old preserved buildings and the squares gave it such a strong European flavour. And over pasta we spoke of life in Antwerp and how disarmingly charming the city is.

Next day we strode through the city center. And it is typically European with the town hall, a statue of Brabo-the legendary town hero, the main Cathedral and the merchants’ offices. The place is enlivened with the mellifluous sound of the church bells or a musician on the violin entertaining people eating and drinking in the outdoor eateries. Rubens, also the father of industrial printing was the architect of most of the city. And hence he has been suitably honoured with statues and even a museum to his name. Then we went through the main shopping area agog with shoppers since they shut shop by 2000. Finally we went through Central Station, which is a monument in itself. Walking always gave a broader perspective of the city, so we decided to be stingy and did not take a cab. However this did prove to cost us some trouble as it began to pour and we had no option but to get drenched as getting a cab on the street is not child’s play. Upon arriving dripping wet at the hotel the pretty receptionist actually did ask ‘Is it raining outside?’ for which I had half a mind to say ‘Have you never tried taking a shower with your clothes on?’

Being a very socialist state, everything in the city closes latest by 1700. So I did miss going to some museums and parks. One evening our good colleagues who told us all the right things about the city gave us a guided city tour. We walked through a 16th century street and chilled out in a medieval style pub where there is no trace of modernity in the cavernous sitting area, the candles or the appropriately dressed waiters. The theme however was not extended to the bathrooms, which was definitely a relief to many.

Walking by river Scheldt, the life giving river of Antwerp was memorable. It is very close to the city centre where the affluent merchants had their offices and watchtowers to overlook the cargo coming in to the city. A very sturdy castle guards it. The entrance has the mythical giant who allegedly collected a river tax for those wanting to cross the river and punished the defiants by chopping their hands and throwing into the river. Story goes that Brabo, a brave fellow chopped the giant’s hands and threw it the river. Hence the name ‘Ant werpen’ or hand throwing.

One evening we took the train to Brussels. At the end of 45 minutes we alighted at the heart of the city. It was love at first sight. The well-preserved history of the place and Gothic architecture was simply enchanting. Brussels is more upbeat than Antwerp. It is the seat of the European union and the NATO. All we needed was a map and an open eye to follow the sign boards that it made it so navigable. We walked to the main Cathedral and then the intertwined roads with typical houses not more than 5 storeys tall. Then we went to the City Centre (Grand Place), which is one of the most vibrant yet historical places I have seen. The buildings were baroque, classical and neo classical at the same time.

Then we saw the lovely La Bourse or the Belgian stock exchange and Mannekan Pis. It was a strange sight to see people scrambling to take pictures of a little boy pissing. Strangely enough we did just that. Then we strolled by several squares. Later we passed by a little market place. It is a narrow binding street with several little eateries and the strong aroma of hot food is gripping. Restaurateurs were clawing at prospective customers like birds of prey. We did not want to walk into any of their aeries. So we walked out and with one powerful exhalation went back to the Central Station hoping to have seen more, but still happy with was there to see.

Belgians love their cartoons as much as they love their history. It is the land of great heroes like Asterix, Tintin , Lucky Luke etc. There are tributes to them in the city. They are also possessive of their fries that the American called French and are making up by calling it ‘Freedom fries’. The chocolates of course are the ‘too sinful to eat, more sinful not to eat’ variety. Above all they love their beer.

And it was time to go back. We experienced the warmest October night Belgium ever had at 20 Deg C. However the warmth of the people made all the difference.