Antwerp Art Nouveau- a happy ending!

It was our last day in Antwerp and I knew I had to visit an area I read about in a travel guide. I didn’t know HOW to get there…or exactly what we would find but I knew I wanted to see the art nouveau architecture of Antwerp. To be honest I wasn’t expecting much. As usual, I was wrong. Completely WRONG.

But before we go there, lets talk about GETTING there. It wasn’t easy. We couldn’t figure out how to get a bus ticket and ended up wandering outside of Antwerp Centraal for a long time! Which isn’t bad, mind you. It’s a gorgeous area. See??



The entrance to the zoo is there, too.


The Zoo may provide the explanation for WHY there is a man dressed in a banana suit and another person dressed in a bear suit standing outside Antwerp Centraal. But do we REALLY want to know the explanation for the Rent-o-Kil van??? (I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical DUTCH reason for this name. But I like Rent o kil better.)



But none of this could deter me from my mission. Not banana man, not bear dude, not even the promise of a Zoo—I wanted art nouveau glamour! Ton, being ever so resourceful and speaking Dutch in a Dutch-speaking city, procured train tickets for us. Brilliant!! And we were off to Berchem station.

Zurenborg, the area in question, is one of the most visually stunning and architecturally impressive areas I’ve ever seen. There’s not one house that can be called plain and unadorned. Built in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, the houses, are mainly art nouveau in design, which is probably why Ton and I loved it so very much. There’s only so much one can say, words cannot accurately describe it. Instead, I’ll let the pictures, as inadequate as they are, show you.

Viktor Horta-inspired art nouveau….



Another simply gorgeous nouveau design…


Mucha-esque!


Neo-Classical or Gothic Revival?


And perhaps the oddest thing we saw on the block…A house with what appeared to be wax heads in the window. Every window in a very large house had heads peering out!


Even the water towers were impressive.

Worn out and weary from oohing and aahing, we headed back to Antwerp Centraal and our train back to Amstelveen. Train stations are curious places…everyone is in a hurry and never appears quite sure of themselves. There’s an unease there, an impending sense of, not exactly doom but definitely disquiet. While we were waiting, a man hurried by with his dog. He stopped, tied the dog to a pipe and went to the restroom. The look on the dog’s face mirrored the disquiet so perfectly…he was waiting, worried, clearly not at ease in his surroundings.



The story ends happily, though. Man and dog reunited with a pat on the head and a lick of the hand and they were off, out the door, leaving us to wait another hour for a train that didn’t want to come. It was delayed. And delayed. And delayed. Ton played with the camera. I simply got irritated. He had better results that I did. Antwerp Centraal, after all, the most beautiful train station in the world!





And how can you go wrong with gorgeous models like this?!?



That story ends happily, too. We finally got on a train, albeit an overcrowded one that left Ton standing in the aisle for over an hour of the journey while I sat next to a slightly smelly Eastern European man. He greeted me in French, I apologetically told him I’m only conversant in English. He smiled and said that was okay, he could speak English, too. Turns out, he spoke English, French, and Russian. Most likely some other Slavic language, too. Yes, I felt stupid and inadequate. He didn’t speak Dutch, though, and was afraid he would miss his stop. I was glad I could help him with that at least. We tend to think we’re smarter than the people around us. We make value judgments based on appearances, and yes, smell. Luckily, the world occasionally brings us down a peg. That is the true merit in travel: it forces us to readjust our thinking. We see the world with fresh eyes, but we also see our place in that world a bit differently. The architecture of our world changes just a bit. And that makes it all worthwhile.

The whole set of photos, including A LOT of pretty house photos can be found in the set 10-30-2009 on FLICKR.

And more Antwerp Centraal photos here.

Antwerp twerps! Leaving Brussels behind.

Sorting through the pictures on my hard drive, I came across the last of my vacation pictures from last fall. Including the photos of my favorite place we visited in Antwerp! But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

After our days in Brussels, we headed back towards the Netherlands with a two-day stop in Antwerp. Another Grote Markt! Another grand cathedral! More art by the Great Masters! And yes, more old buildings that make American buildings look like wimpy little pups!!


Speaking of the Cathedral, what can you say about such a gorgeous and imposing piece of architecture? It dominates the skyline and draws you in.


And as you approach it, it grows more beautiful.





Inside there was a special exhibition of the religious works of Peter Paul Reubens. But honestly, the cathedral itself is so spectacular that the works of the great master paled in comparison. I have to admit, I am not a deeply religious person. But the stillness, the heavy blanket of calm that falls upon you when you enter a great church moves me. It moves me more than any religious service, any sermon.








Lots of buildings in Antwerp, especially near the cathedral, feature Madonna and child sculptures. Many of them, like this one, are finely wrought and quite beautiful!


(More Cathedral pictures available here.)

After leaving the cathedral, we wandered to the Grote Markt. And once again, as in Brussels, it is STUNNING. Smaller, more compact than what Brussels offered. A bit less grand perhaps but no less beautiful.








And it’s just as beautiful at night!



We also spent a large part of the afternoon wandering around the city. No definite destination in mind other than finding the Scheldt and seeing the waterfront. What we happened upon was ‘t Steen.


It is the oldest building in Antwerp-- 800 years old! So old that above its front gate is a pagan fertility god. But when the Spanish came, they chipped away his very large penis—the Inquisition would not allow something so obscene and unholy to remain!!



It was closed and rather deserted. But it was beautiful and they had a boardwalk behind to watch the river barges go by. It used to house the Maritime Museum but that was being relocated into a better facility in 2010 but in the meantime was kept next door in a group of open-sided warehouses.



It, too, was absolutely deserted. I can’t imagine that every happening in the States!! A deserted warehouse FULL of boats and no one even noticing or trying to steal anything!

We then wandered back to the Grote Markt, through one of the older sections of the city. I loved the narrow, winding streets, and small doorways. It felt like being on a movie set of a medieval movie.



The road that leads to the Grote Markt:


In a sense, Antwerp is an odd city. The older city center has a heart, a character that appeals. But outside the old city, a modern city sprang up that seems to have lost its spirit. Maybe it’s the diamond trade that did that? The drive of such a hungry, greedy industry has to leave its mark.

(You can see more Antwerp photos here.
One more day in Antwerp. One more chance for Antwerp to wow me!

Transported by cuisine...

Tonight, Dutch and I were out galavanting around the big city of Winston-Salem after finally seeing Sherlock Holmes. Good movie! Really fun. Great chemistry between Jude Law and Robert Downey, Jr. A few things felt very slashy, like they were giving the public a wink and a nudge. I guess you could interpret it as an Odd Couple reference, but where is the fun in that!?!??!?? Watson & Holmes OTP!!!!!!!!!! I had no problems with the movie like some other literary people do. I was never a fan of the books. Holmes was always a bit to smug and perfect. Of course Downey could act out a page of from the encyclopedia and it would be entertaining. I do adore the man.

But a movie review is not the point of my post. It is a review of a different kind! After battling our way through Costco, we required sustenance! I had read a very positive review of the Indian restaurant, Tumeric. We decided we would give it a go. I am so glad we did. Great service! We were seated immediately, and somehow—I have yet to figure out how, the waiter knew to bring my husband water without ice and me water with ice. Perhaps his accent was a give away, since most Europeans don’t like ice. Whatever the reason, he was very observant and gets mega points for that. He also handled the entire dining room by himself, doing it with such grace and skill that no one was neglected. Absolutely impeccable!



I immediately new I wanted to try their Masala tea with spices and heavy cream while Dutch opted for plain, black tea. Both were a bit disappointing—the masala lacked the spice I had hoped for. Ton’s black tea was great by my standards, strong and oily. By his standards it was too strong. He likes the tea leaves to lift their skirts and run through the water. Meh.






We both opted to forgo an appetizer, but I was very tempted to try the vada, a mildly spiced and fried lentil donuts served with sambar and chutney, but I opted not to eat that many carbs in this meal! I was saving up for naan. I adore naan. And at Tumeric it did not disappoint. But more on that in a minute.

For our main courses, Dutch opted for Paneer tikki masala, while I went with chicken tikka masala. A safe choice, I’ll admit, but hey, I wanted comfort food! It was delicious. Gorgeously spiced, not too hot, but with great flavor. The chicken was meltingly tender and the naan…oh, it was warm, somehow crisp and chewy at that same time. It soaked up the tikki masala sauce so lusciously that I would have been content with nothing else. In fact, I ate the sauce with a spoon and would have licked the bowl but there were lots of people (and I could hear the shame in my mother’s voice). Ton’s Paneer was deliciously crisp on the outside and perfectly soft in the center. I’ll definitely try their Saag Paneer next time.



Other than the questionable masala tea, the only other thing I question is the ambience. Tumeric is located in a strip mall, but has a very nice entrance. Once inside, you’re greeted with sagging leather chairs and the cash register. The wall art consists of some nice leaded glass windows that look very elegant but have those rather poorly painted roll-up reed scrolls. In this case, each window was flanked by matching scrolls, in one case it was tigers, another one had elephants, and a third had an Indian dancer. Cheesy green vinyl diner-quality booths are spaced very close together for a definite lack of privacy. The tables were covered in a curry & white checked vinyl tablecloth topped with glass. On the tables were "flameless" plastic candles. Real tablecloths and candles would have helped a bit. But the china was good quality, as was the flatware.



While we were dining, we were surrounded by quite an eclectic mix of people, including a family with several small children. If you’re looking for a romantic getaway, this probably isn’t the place. If you’re looking for good, solid Indian food, it definitely fits the bill. And for that, I can forgive the ambience. Dutch and I will definitely go back.



Tumeric (located in Healy Plaza)
3088 Healy Drive
Winston Salem, NC 27103
(336) 794-8280
(336) 794-8282

Building up muscles in Brussels.

We booked our hotel through a travel company and then promptly forgot about the logistics of travel. What the hell was I thinking???!?!?!? I assumed we would arrive in Brussels and be in the thick of things and have no trouble finding our hotel. Instead, we arrived in a horribly busy central station, in a place where once again I didn’t know the language and could NOT suss out a direction to save my life! We wandered the streets for at least thirty minutes before stopping in at not one, but two, different hotels to ask directions. When we finally DID locate our hotel, we were very pleased. The Hotel Ibis St. Catherine’s was nice and the view from our room was beautiful. We were on the fifth floor, overlooking St. Catherine’s church. Spook, yet very beautiful in its gothic way.



We were also very close, an easy five minute walk, to the Grote Markt—the Grand Square. Which was truly grand, truly awe-inspiring and worth the entire cost of the trip to see it! It is this place that lingers in my head, the throngs of people embraced by elegant architecture that stood as testament to the resilience of the Belgians. In 1695, the French bombarded the city destroying much of the Grote Markt. But within four years, the guilds of Brussels rebuilt their square more resplendent than ever. That is what moves me the most—that such magnificence could rise so quickly because of the dedication of a city’s people. We kept wandering back to this place—it just keeps pulling you back. At night it is alive, vibrant, almost magical.







Ton wanted to get up very early one morning and watch the city come to life. We got up at 5am and started wandering the streets. The main thoroughfares were already busy, but the back streets leading to the Grote Markt were silent. The Grote Markt was virtually deserted, except for the flower vendor setting up his wares and the sweepers tidying up. Slowly more store owners trickled in as the sky started to lighten. It felt like watching a play, seeing a scene that had been acted out day after day for centuries. It is a good memory and one Ton's best ideas, ever.






One of the first things I wanted to do in Brussels was see the world-famous fountain, Manneken Pis. The little boy peeing. There are a lot of legends about this little statue but no one knows the truth of his origins. But if I was in Brussels, I had to see him for myself. After all, there’s a whole museum dedicated to him and his international wardrobe. Since Brussels is a center of international banking and diplomacy as well as head of the European Union, dignitaries from all over the world come here and gift the city with outfits for the lil’ guy representing their culture. All I can say is, after a long walk up some decently steep hills, I would have walked right by this "attraction" if I hadn’t seen three or four people taking photos of something. Turns out that Manneken Pis is indeed a little guy. Tiny. In fact, not more than a foot tall or I’ll eat him whole (made out of chocolate, of course. Available in shops everywhere in Brussels). Talk about disappointing! Ton had tried to warn me that is was small but would I believe him????? Of course not. Still we had a good laugh, and headed on towards grander things.





I also knew that if I was in Brussels, I wanted to see the newly opened Magritte Museum. As much as I love the art of Renee Magritte, I was disappointed in his museum. While they had a variety of his work, and it was laid out in my preferred chronological order, the museum seemed to miss a heart. It clearly did NOT have the best of Magritte’s work on display and the pieces they had, while very nice, were poorly displayed in pitch black rooms that were narrow enough that you could not escape the glare on the paintings. I’m not sorry I went, mind you, but I wanted to find the director and give him a stern talking to!


One of the other key things we wanted to do while in Brussels was find the Victor Horta Museum and take a tour. (Ton and I had stumbled on Horta's work on display in the Drenthe Museum in Assen.) Well, let’s just say that didn’t go as expected either! We thought we knew where we were going. Turned out that we didn’t! We must have walked 12 km that afternoon, looking for that house and asking people for directions in Ton’s rather impressive sounding, if slightly broken, French. We did find a fantastic shawarma/falafel shop though, and had lunch. After abandoning all hope, we stumbled upon the right street! The Rue Americain! We were even early! Ton and I both adore Art Nouveau and Art Deco. This house was incredible and did not disappoint! Horta designed every facet of the place, down to the banisters, the doorknobs, the cabinet hinges…everything. It was worth the walk. We would get our fill of Art Deco architecture later, in Antwerp. The only other side note I can add to this excursion is that we were so tired by the time we were through touring the house we decided to take a tram back. The tram was so full that we had to stand. It’s not unusual to have to do this and you get your “tram legs” fairly quickly. Only this time, my tram legs had another lady’s legs wedged between them so that when she stumbled, I stumbled. Luckily, Ton caught me. Unluckily, not before I wrenched my knee so badly that I didn’t think I would make it back to the hotel. I did. But I popped enough Aleve in the next few days to kill a small horse. Or one very tiny Manneken Pis.

Writing this I realize that time has made Brussels more magical for me. While I was there, it was intimidating. It was large. It was dirty. At times, I felt threatened and not at all safe. The city had more than its share of Eastern European women carrying babies and begging for money with outstretched hands and large, dark eyes. But distance has diminished the dirt and danger. I remember now how beautiful it was, the gentle roll of old historic streets. We were only there four days but we saw so very much that it felt like much, much longer. After all, how could you not love a city where you get waffles covered in chocolate and whipped cream at any hour?



If you want to see the other photos of Brussels, and be warned there are quite a few! Click onward the Brussels (Bruxelles) Set on Flickr.

Edam. It brings out my cheesy nature.

After our day in Assen, we spent the night in Oosterwolde, a small town nearby. The Hotel Zon was a nice hotel and they had a very good restaurant on site, too! Great food, but the wine we ordered was only mediocre. You can’t win them all, I guess.

Oosterwolde photos

Sunday morning, October 25th, dawned bright and cheerful, and we headed to Leeuwarden on our way to Franeker and the Eise Eisinga Museum. Leeuwarden was quiet—not a lot of people out and about. It was here that I saw the most crooked church I’ve ever seen! It leans so far to the left that it rivals Pisa. In fact, it was leaning so far during the building of it, that they abandoned it. Then it was on to Het Princessehof Ceramic Museum. After coffee in the museum café, we headed on to Franeker.

Leeuwarden photos


In Franeker, we walked around this lovely town to the home of Eise Eisinga , a wool carder who built an accurate, working planetarium in his canalside home between 1774 and 1781. It was fascinating to see it—an elaborate and beautiful model of our solar system. Unfortunately, they didn’t allow photos inside, so you’ll have to settle for my photos of the Franeker City Hall, and the surrounding streets.

Franeker photos


Leaving Franeker, we headed back to Amstelveen. This meant traveling across the Afsluitdijk. Something I both anticipated and dreaded! Anticipated because, hey, nothing is more dutch than this enormous dijk. Dreaded because, hey, it’s a DIJK. Holding back a lot of WATER. I get creeped out on bridges over tiny rivers! Luckily, it was nothing as bad as I feared. In fact, it was so beautiful, I forgot to worry about it at all. We even walked a bit along the Wadden Sea, where the wind blew away all worries and fears. It was gorgeous.

Afsluitdijk photos.


Leaving the dijk and the sea behind we arrived in Edam, just as the sun was setting. It was here I fell in love again. Friesland held no magic for me. Groningen had no heart. But here, in Edam, there was a pulse, an air of antiquity, a feeling of home. I would move to this place. I wanted to soak it all in and become part of its history. Why, yes, I do have a flair for melodrama. But after all this time and distance, I can still feel the way I felt on those streets. Perhaps it was the time of day, seeing the city in the gloaming , perhaps it was the stillness and peace of a Sunday evening. Whatever it was, for that one evening, Edam was magical.

Edam photos.

October 24th, 2009. Assen. Or the Ass-end of nowhere.

Saturday, we left Bakkeveen to head into the heart of Friesland. Henk dropped us off at the hotel in Oosterwolde where we would meet up later with Ton's folks. But Saturday, we were on our own! So, we hopped a bus and headed into Assen. It felt a bit more like "Dutch" than Bakkeveen, Roden and some of the other places. And it was market day when we were there. That always adds to the atmosphere of a place.

We opted to have lunch in the market and choose not to have the fish but instead ate lumpia with sambal sauce. Delish! There was also a man with his calliope in the town square. They are very prevalent in the Netherlands and always a joy to see.



However, most of the day was spent at the Drents Musuem. It was open house day at the museum and admission was free! But best of all, there were people in costumes from all periods of Dutch history and there was a re-enactment group in the ballroom doing clog dances. Very fun! The specialty of the museum is the history of Drenthe and the Hunnebedden.

The museum building itself was incredibly gorgeous and housed a fantastic exhibit of Belgian Art Nouveau and Art Deco design. This exhibition would influence our trip to Brussels because of our new-found love of the work of Brussels architect and designer, Victor Horta.







After the museum, it was time to head back to Oosterwolde and have dinner with Ton's parents. Tomorrow would be a day filled with new places: Leeuwarden, Franeker and the dreaded Afsluitdijk.

You can see the rest of my Assen photos on my Flickr page.