Antwerp

The train station in Amsterdam is a very hectic place and it took awhile to get our tickets. The machines wouldn’t take our credit cards, so we had to go to the main counter where the lines were long and excruciatingly slow. Everybody spoke English so it made things a lot easier, and navigating the multi-level station was pretty straightforward, but it was still a bit stressful. Trains leave every 30 minutes and the trip to Antwerp takes a little over two hours. That’s assuming you go economy class (second class) and take the regular train that stops along the way. It costs about about $80 per person one way. If you take the Thalys bullet train, it takes half the time and costs twice as much. We weren’t in a hurry, so we went with the cheaper option. First class have nicer seats and are separated from the herd. Other than that, there didn’t seem to be any difference. We went second class and found the ride enjoyable as we passed through farm land and small towns filled with sturdy, red brick homes. Sprawl does not exist in Europe. You are either a farmer or you live in a town. There is no suburbia. So, once the train left Amsterdam, we were traveling through the fertile Dutch countryside where we spotted windmills and tidy farms. It was flat as a board and reminded me of the Eastern Shore of Maryland.

Antwerp is a city of half-million people. The Antwerpen Centraal Train Station station is one of the grandest in Europe. But once you walk outside, it’s all a tad rundown and the people look rough and seedy. White folk are definitely the minority, which seemed odd in a white bread country like Belgium.

Once again, I booked a room close to the train station so we didn’t have to schlep our bags after what I figured would be (but really wasn’t) a confusing trip on the train. The Park Inn is a modern hotel with all of the amenities located in a busy square that resembled a transportation park. There were buses, trolleys, and cabs going round and round the park at all hours of the day while people laid on the grass and lounged on stone benches. It was immediately obvious that the pace of life in Antwerp was way slower than Amsterdam. The place seemed almost sleepy.

We were staying for two nights, so we unpacked and then hit the town. The weather was still cloudy and cool, but it wasn’t raining. The Old Town was about a mile away along a broad pedestrian boulevard that led us through the Diamond District and the Meir Shopping District that were lined with shops and restaurants. At two o’clock on a Sunday, nobody seemed to be doing either.

The first thing I noticed was there were a lot less bikes. The next thing I noticed was there were a lot more Arab-looking folks. I’m not Donald Trump, and I have nothing against Muslims. And besides, I was the immigrant. But I really have to say that I find women wearing head scarves and burkas to be demeaning and misguided. But everyone was friendly in a sort of medicated way.

The only building that really caught our eye as we walked toward Old Town was the Paleis Op De Meir (Royal Palace), which is now a restaurant, high-end boutiques, and the city’s premiere Chocolate Shop where you can watch them make their award-winning confections.

And this is where I made a huge tactical error. I ate a chocolate with bacon and another two with weed. But I wouldn’t realize my mistake for a few hours. The day was still young.

Rather than head straight into the heart of the city, we walked around the edges, past the Botanical Gardens and other quite attractive places.

The Toneelhuis City Theater

The Hollandse Synagogue

The statue of some famous old dead white guy (Paul Rubens)

Spacey public art in the Greenplaats

The Art-Deco Farmers Tower, Europe’s first high-rise and for many years its the tallest building.

Inna has a nose for fish and she sniffed out the best restaurant in town, Fish A’GoGo, a little hole-in-the-wall joint where they served incredibly fresh seafood in their restaurant with just one big plastic table by the counter and a few cushion seats and stools outside.

I had my first Belgian beer of the trip, Omer and Ichtegem’s. They only served those two beers and they were the best I tasted in Belgium.

We started off with their gambas in lemon grass (mega-shrimp) that were out of this world.

And more beer.

Then some lobster that they killed with a big butcher knife right in front of us.

Then more beer.

At some point we ran into Peter and Brigid, some locals who dine at the Fish A’GoGo once a week. They joined us at the plastic table for some tasty squid and …

… a few more beers

Then Inna ordered the fresh Razor Clams.

And you guessed it.

And then a big hug for the owner and head chef.

After that, our new friend Peter took us to his favorite beer cafe, Gollem, on the Grote Markt, the city’s Central Square, where they served genuine, certified, A#1, Trappist beer (9% alcohol).

And that’s all she wrote. If you look carefully at my face in the photo below, you will see a man about to crash and burn. In a major way. I won’t go into the sordid details other than to say it wasn’t pretty and was quite messy. Inna was my guardian angel and protected me through the whole ordeal. I was horrifically sick and totally out of it. I couldn’t walk, could barely talk, and we were in a foreign land. I’m 63 years old and have required medical assistance several times in the past at my home when I exceeded my limits. But my dear, sweet Inna held me and guarded me from danger. She was always soothing and never pissy. But eventually the owner of the bar said he was either going to call the cops or an ambulance and Inna somehow managed to steer me outside to a park bench. Then she said that she was going to go get help. She magically reappeared in a brand new black Mercedes, which it turned out was a cab. I was sitting in a pedestrian area, but Inna had done her “Russian thing” and convinced the driver that it was an emergency and he drove right to where I was dozing and drooling. At that point I was too far gone to really comprehend what was happening, but I knew without a doubt that I was married to a super hero.

The next day was not pretty. Well, actually, a high pressure system descended over Northern Europe and for the rest of the trip it would be sunny and warm. But I was not a happy camper. And I made a vow to never eat magic chocolate ever again – or certainly not to mix it with beer.

When I lived and played at the Grand Canyon, I learned that the best hangover remedy was to sweat out the poison. So, Inna and I ended up walking all over Antwerp the day after my little mishap, covering ten miles and seeing some lovely sights along the way. Starting with the city’s largest church, the Cathedral of Our Lady, that resembled a white rocket ship.

The inside of the cathedral was mind-blowing, though the plastic seats were a bit cheesy.

My favorite spot in town was the Grote Markt central square, framed by the stunning City Hall that was adorned with the flags from many nations.

We were careful to avoid the nearby Gollem Trappist bar where I had flamed out the previous evening.

In the middle of the Grote Markt sits a large bronze statue and fountain. The statue depicts a young Roman soldier named Silvius Brabo throwing the severed hand of a giant named Druon Antigoon who had terrorized the Flemish people by charging tolls along the Sheldt River and then cutting off the hands of those who could not pay. If you look closely, you can see blood spouting from the hand.

The Medieval Guild Houses representing the various trades of the time rose into the sky like fairy tale crowns.

We headed for the harbor where the city has constructed a seawall to prevent the Scheldt River from flooding the town. This is the first stage of the Sigma Project to deal with climate change and rising sea levels.

And what’s a Medieval city without a Castle?

The statue in front of the castle depicts the badass giant Antigoon messing with the little folk of Antwerp.

The view from the castle, looking back into town toward the cathedral was magnificent.

One of the more intriguing buildings was the old, red and white brick Old Butchers Hall. It was built in 1504, and served as the city’s meat market. We thought that was entirely appropriate in that it looked like bacon. Public housing rings the rear of the enormous complex, along with the block-long Red Light District, where bored young women in lingerie lounged in their little bedroom cubicles, playing with their cellphones. It was the middle of the day and business was slow.

There were a few interesting Medieval buildings that caught our eye, but once we got out of the city center, things started getting pretty sketchy. Inna and I both agreed that while we had seen many captivating and lovely sights during our visit to Antwerp, we couldn’t imagine ever returning. In fact, we could have easily seen the high points in one day. If we had it all to do over again, we would have done it as a day trip from Brussels which is only about thirty minutes south. But then, I wouldn’t have had a chance to make a fool of myself. So, it’s all good.

Inna was tired after our long walk and she headed back to the hotel. I returned to the Meir District for dinner. It was a beautiful evening and the outdoor cafes were packed. I decided to check out the Ellis Gourmet Burger joint to see what a Belgian burger tasted like. It was outstanding! One of the best I ever ate. I was thirsty, but I drank water with my meal because after my debacle the night before, I still wasn’t ready for a beer. Imagine that.