All About Antwerp

The name Antwerp comes from "hand werp" which means "hand throw." Years ago, when residents of this country could not pay their taxes, they were taken to the center of town and their right hand was chopped off and thrown in the Scheldt river. I suspect snorkeling at the bottom of that river isn't a great deal of fun.

The Great Scheldt river as it is often referred to is very important to this city. Thanks to this waterway Antwerp has become the second-largest harbor in Europe (after Rotterdam), and the fourth largest harbor in the world.

Antwerp for all of its medieval history and folklore is also quite literally a city within a city. I say this because several hundred years ago, the Schedt river swelled and flooded every square inch of Antwerp. Once the flooding subsided, residents found their beloved city in ruins. Some courageous and industrious "Antwerpians" began rebuilding, this time on top of the old city. We found this out when visiting the old St. Paulius Church. Portions of the original church can still be found in the underbelly of the magnificent structure that now resides above it. Tourists are invited to visit the remnants of the original church and a boat ride through the narrow canals provides a tour of the old city as well. Besides being a breathtaking building, the St. Paulius Church is an amazing collection of art work. Years ago, many if not all paintings were commissioned by churches which was the only way 16th, 17th & 18th century painters could afford to paint. The church houses many of the works by Peter Paul Rubens, Belgium's favorite son who lived in Antwerp and painted here most of his life. The stones that make up the floor were brought to the church by Belgian women who collected them in Jerusalem and brought them to Antwerp.

Our next visit was to Waterloo, or as it is also referred to "Napoleon's Last Stand." Waterloo was only the first of many bloody battles that would happen on Belgium soil and won Belgium a victory over the short little Frenchman who threatened to run and rule Europe. At the time of the battle (1814) Belgium was still a part of the Netherlands. After winning this war, Belgium also won its victory and became a country onto itself. I don't think the Dutch have ever forgiven us.

Bruges was our next stop. Called, "the Venice of the North" Bruges (Brugge) was founded in the 9th century by Vikings who settled here at the end of the little river 'de Reie'. Canals wind their way through this medieval town and past the small brick homes that are built on the rim of the many waterways that feed the city. Tourists can take a breathtaking voyage on narrow boats through these ancient canals and a trip to Bruges is not complete without it. Swans grace the waterways, drifting aside whenever the boats pass. Baskets of colorful flowers spill from windowsills and planters and even portions of the old wall that once protected this city can still be seen in various areas around the city.

As ever, I love this country and the people and ok, the food and of course the family. My mother comes from a family of 11 (parents made it 13) and my dad is from a family of 15. I suspect I have enough 1st and 2nd cousins to fill a stadium. For any of you who grew up in a small town, you know what I mean when I say they are colorful characters, each and every one of them. I could write tomes about these people and never tire for material.

Usually by day three once I have sufficiently recovered from my jet lag, my uncles take turns visiting with their families. These initial visits serve two purposes actually. The first is of course the visit, the second is matchmaking. Since I am single and my family worries about me being "alone" no single male within 75 kilometers is safe. If they own a bit of land and at least one cow, they are cajoled into visiting "the girl from the States." It's a painful visit and I have about as much in common with these suitors (and they with me) as I do with an African fruit fly. Bless their little fuzzy clog wearing hearts, most of them have never heard of email (and there is very little that compels me to milk a cow). I suspect if one of them spent more then 3 hours with me in the throes of my technology they'd flee my presence, certain I was an alien life form from another planet. Perhaps I am, I do live in California after all...

Biking is a big pastime for any Belgian and when I'm here I spend a good deal of time on one myself. Whenever we go biking, it is usually for a four to six hour ride through thick wooded areas, past gentle fields. Often times we'll see bunkers and forts, remnants of WWI & II. Belgium is mostly flat, making it a perfect biking spot. A typical ride will include 4-6 people, usually Aunts and cousins of mine. Halfway through the bike trip we spot at a cafe and stop to drink beer. This may seem odd to some, but to Belgians it's quite the norm. Belgium does, after all, boast over 350 different kinds of beer. One in particular, Trappist, is made by the monks near the city where my parents live. It's dark beer, and is usually accompanied by a splash of grenadine to cut the bitterness. Besides beer, Belgium is also known for waffles (if you're ever in the area, try the sugar waffles, they're out of this world), chocolate, French fries (guess what folks, the French didn't invent these) and smoutebollen (a kind of a donut that makes Krispy Kremes taste like roof shingles). Come for the biking, stay for the food.

My folks live on 1/2 acre land which is planted every spring. It's green and colorful and more beautiful than you can ever imagine. Right now it's filled with new potatoes, beans, peas, lettuce and tomatoes. For the most part, our meals come right out of our yard. In fact, I've been eating so healthy I think I'm getting a rash. I may need to crack open a can of something chock full of preservatives to keep from keeling over.