Our Belgium Adventure: Day Three (13 April)

Today we were again treated to a pretty morning view from our top-floor room.

Accompanied by the tweeting of birds and, when the wind shifted just so, the faintest clanging of bells, it was another idyllic start to the day, made even more so by the breakfast of homemade muesli that greeted us when we went downstairs--much, much better than the storebought version we eat in London!
After breakfast, the four of us drove partway into the city, parked the car, and then took a tram the rest of the way. So far, our experience with Belgian public transportation is that it's reliable, clean, and very cheap. For example, our tram rides cost €0,20 each (£0.14 or CAD$0.30) for something that costs £1 (€1,47 or CAD$2.25) in London and CAD$1.80 (€1,18 or £0.80) in Vancouver: definitely a bargain. We began the day at Antwerpen's beautiful Centraal Station, where the city's symbols, the Steen and a pair of open hands, can be seen in the coat-of-arms:
Walking down the main shopping street, the Meir, was an exercise in history and economics, as Jan pointed out various buildings along the way (most of which are now exclusive shops) and told us about each building's history. His refrain for the day was, "In my youth . . ." followed by a detailed account of a building's original use, which made for a fascinating walk which seemed a bit surreal as Jan told us about history as shoppers buzzed all around us.
This building was one of my favourites: In Jan's youth it was the headquarters for the electric company; now it houses a department store. Our next stop was St Jacobskerk (St James's Church), which contains the tomb of Pieter Paul Rubens, the artist son of Antwerpen, as well as an organ once played by Mozart:
Appropriately, our next stop was Rubenshuis (Rubens's House), which was Rubens's home and studio from the age of 34 until his death. The home itself is beautiful, but interior photography wasn't allowed, so all I can show you is the lovely exterior:


Bob and I posed for a photo in the garden,
but our pose was rather boring compared to Jan and Vera's (or should I just say Jan's?):
We went into the public areas of the Bourla theatre building, decorated with statues of Apollo and the muses as well as busts of literary and musical greats (including Mozart and Shakespeare),
and marvelled at the areas we were allowed to access inside. By now it was a very warm day (it felt more like June than April) and we were all a bit tired from walking--the perfect reason to sit in a shady courtyard over lunch. Jan and Vera chose a wonderful restaurant which prepared all their food with care and imagination, and shortly after we ordered, we were each presented with a complimentary smoked-salmon starter:
Jan had the most amazing-looking prawns,
Vera and I both had the goat cheese and prosciutto salad (this is the "small" version!),
and Bob had a curried seafood pasta. I get teased sometimes for taking so many photos of food, but don't you think those were worth seeing? Food is art too, after all . . . After a lingering lunch, we took our renewed walking energy to the streets, where Vera and Jan ran into the son of one of their friends, who recently opened a shop across the street from the most amazing house:
The best part about the building is the decoration on either side of the door:

What are they exactly? And what does the lettering on their bodies mean? I forgot to see if Jan could provide some insight; nevertheless, I found the figures very compelling. Our next stop was the Plantin-Moretus Museum, a very interesting printing museum housed in a mansion that belonged to the Plantin-Moretus family when they were the largest printer/ publisher in Belgium, some 400 years ago. The foyer's light hangs from an eagle, several stories up a lovely staircase.
Museum admission included an audioguide and when Bob and I listened to our English ones (Jan and Vera had Dutch guides), the narrator mentioned that we could ask for the key to the dining room near the bottom of the stairs where we were standing; the room was unique since it has been kept exactly as it was in the seventeenth century when the mansion belonged to the family. Jan asked at the front desk and the very businesslike woman told him that she was sorry, but the room was not available for viewing at this time. Ready to admit defeat, Bob and I began to head up the stairs, but Jan spotted another museum employee, got a mischievous grin on his face, and asked this man the same question. The man paused, and although we couldn't understand what Jan said, we did catch the word "Canada"--which led us to believe that Jan was using the fact that we had come alllllllll the way from Canada (even though of course it was nearby London we were coming from) to make the man more sympathetic to our desire to see this dining room. Well, the pause ended, the man disappeared, Jan smiled, and the man reappeared with a key to the dining room! The room itself was amazing in its unrefurbished splendour--and we felt lucky to have been able to see it. I told Jan that he reminded me of my dad--neither gives up when it comes to someone saying "no" and their creative charms seem to get them what they want. The rest of the house was incredible
and the courtyard garden was wonderful on this summery day. (Notice Bob is continuing to listen to the audioguide in this picture--he really liked the audioguide!)
A recurring symbol throughout the mansion was this compass, whose symbolism was explained by (who else?) Jan: one compass point remains steady and firm, unmoving at the centre, while the other moves around the centre to create, so the compass represents the family's core values of strength and movement, drive and creativity. I think it's a beautiful, rather poetic symbol, and was grateful for the explanation. Parts of the house were used for the work of printing and we wandered through rooms filled with loose type, formes set with type, workstations, and presses, as well as the finished products of all that hard work.


By the time we finished the museum circuit, it was late in the afternoon and we didn't want to miss seeing the interior of the cathedral, so we began heading that way. Jan specifically chose Vlaaikensgang as the most scenic, atmospheric approach to the cathedral and we soon found out why it was worth searching out this narrow, winding path to Antwerpen's most prominent attraction, as the street was filled with tiny, hidden restaurants
and beautiful postage-stamp-sized courtyards. This one belonged to a man renting a flat whose front door is just beside the bench on which Jan and Vera are sitting:
He was just an everyday sort of guy, young and renting a flat from an artist landlord who wasn't in town all the time. He may have been everyday, but his flat's location certainly wasn't! We arrived at our destination, just minutes away:

The approach to the cathedral (Belgium's largest in the Gothic style) through small, winding streets was breathtaking and the interior more than lived up to the beautiful exterior:
The outer panels of the two Rubens triptychs in the cathedral are painted on both sides so that the more important panels (seen here)
can be protected by closing the "lesser" panels over them, if so desired. Although we spent about half an hour in the cathedral, we could have easily spent a few hours wandering around, taking in everything.
The confessional booths were beautiful,
the stained glass glowed on this very sunny day,
and everywhere we walked, we needed to look up and around at everything around us. From the cathedral, we wandered over to Hendrik Conscienceplein, a peaceful square anchored by a nearby church:

We decided to stop somewhere for a drink before heading home for dinner; along the way, Bob and I both liked this sign:
Once we sat down, I had coffee
and everyone else had beer.
Although we didn't sit there, Jan pointed out a place whose interior was completely filled with icons,
so close to the cathedral.
By now we were all getting tired and we decided to head toward our tram. Along the way, we spotted an Antwerpen specialty that we had seen in several shop windows: a hand-shaped biscuit, often given as a symbol of friendship:
We passed through Grote Markt again,

some puppies bade us farewell,

and the beauty of Antwerpen just wouldn't stop!

After our quick tram and car rides, we arrived home, where Vera prepared another delicious supper for us. Once again we started with a delicious soup (tonight's was pumpkin-based),
and our main course was very fresh, very tender trout, a fish whose flavour always reminds me of all the fun camping trips I went on as a kid with my dad in the Canadian Rockies.
Bob enjoyed his dessert, as usual,
and Vera and I talked about how Bob (in the above photo) and Jan (in the earlier photo, gleefully hoisting his beer) were like two primary-school kids that we had somehow got stuck babysitting for a very long time . . . After dinner we did something really unusual for a four-day visit to Belgium--we went to an observatory (which happens to be a few minutes' walk from Jan and Vera's home, and which hosts free viewing sessions on Friday nights). Jan talked with the woman at the front and once again the only word I could make out in their conversation was "Canada" and the next thing we knew, the woman told us that we were going to get a private tour. "But, why?" I asked. "Because you have come from Canada!" was her reply. While we waited for her to finish up what she was doing so she could take us on our tour, I noticed this cute no-smoking sign
and then she led us outside, behind the building, and demonstrated two telescopes which were housed in a giant shed.

We then returned to the main observatory where the man working the telescope showed us a double star and Saturn, the only objects that could clearly be seen in the (unfortunately) mostly obscured sky. While the double star was very interesting, Saturn was spectacular--just like all those textbook photos! Its funny to think that we came to Belgium to see Saturn, but that's one of the joys of going elsewhere, I suppose: a new perspective!