Sunday, 9 April, Antwerp: walking and eating

Written 17 June 2023

As soon as we sat down to dinner in Rotterdam, the ship cast off and headed for Antwerp, Belgium, arriving during breakfast this morning. The building shown at the left was across the river from us, but I never learned anything about the cartoon bicyclist painted on the side of it.

And as soon as I took one look at the breakfast buffet, it was clear that something drastic had changed in the kitchen. Maybe the chef got the day off for Easter or something. Up to now, every morning, the salmon station featured a side of smoked salmon (Viking must order them by the shipload) sliced on a sharp diagonal into elegant thin slices and little dishes on each of which a slice was curled into a little rosette accompanied by a generous quenelle of cream cheese, a few capers, a fat lemon wedge, and a chive. At the right, you can see what we got on Easter morning: a side of salmon hacked into haphazard chunks.

Each of the little dishes bore a few of the salmon chunks, a thin decorative (but unsqueezable) slice of lemon, a pea-sized squirt of cream cheese, and of course, the capers and chive.

But because it was Easter, little bowls were everywhere piled with chocolate eggs and bunnies as well as actual boiled eggs dyed in vibrant colors. Also new on the buffet was a small braised ham. It was excellent, but it never reappeared—just an Easter thing, I guess.

I took the opportunity to photograph the 24/7 coffee station outside the lounge (one of two identical stations a few steps apart), mostly because I was curious to see the interior of the new coffee machine, which was laid open for cleaning and refilling.

At the right, is the milk reservoir, set aside while its receptacle (the white-lined void in the left-hand photo) is cleaned. To the left of it, the bottles of caramel and hazelnut syrup, fitted with pump tops; above it the array of sweeteners, tubes of honey, and pouches of lemon juice; and behind it thermos pitchers of skimmed milk, whole milk, and half-and-half.

Above the sweeteners was this array of tea bags, together with take-out cups and lids (other shelves held ceramic cups and glasses)

In the right-hand photo are the goody baskets, usually stocked with croissants and muffins in the morning and a couple of kinds of cookies in the afternoon (sometimes different every day, but running heavily to chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin on this trip). Plates and napkins available in case you wanted to take a few to the lounge back to your stateroom.

Here, at the left (photographed later, when it had been recombobulated) is the new coffee machine, and at the right a closer view of the choices offered.

I was disappointed not to find hot milk among the new choices—I like to bring instant decaf along and make café au lait by adding hot milk to it. I tried the thermos of warm milk provided at the oatmeal station, but it was barely tepid. A pretty good substitute, though, was a decaf cappucino or, even better, a decaf latte machiatto with a couple squirts of caramel syrup in it.

The folks who opted to do the bus trip to see the "Best of Brussels" left right after we docked, and a little later, we joined the leisurely version of the Antwerp walking tour.

The bus brought us to the same parking lot as before. Here's a better photo of the tower by the river (with the seafood restaurant on top) and its rather incongruous elevator tower.

In the parking lot, our guide told us that the location where our ship is docked it the first one built that could accept tankers and barrels of oil. The Red Star shipping line brought American oil here, in barrels. The first shipment was 40 barrels, but demand was such that that quickly rose to 40,000 drums per shipment. A third of U.S. oil production came here via Antwerp.

Rather than leaving their ships empty as they sailed back to the U.S. for more oil, they took passengers. The Red Line oil ships took 2.5 million people from Antwerp to New York on such return voyages, including Golda Meir, Irving Berlin, the grandparents of Barbara Streisand, on several occasions, Albert Einstein (he was the only one who traveled first class).

Now Antwerp is the the largest in area of any port in Europe. It is the biggest importer in Europe of coffee, tropical fruit, and Coca Cola. The largest ships now carry over 23,000 containers per load.

The oldest cranes on the site worked on water power driven by steam turbines ashore, but those have long since been replaced by more modern equipment.

In the right-hand photo is the low cement wall that separates the parking lot and immediate river bank from the bike path, sidewalk, and street. The wall itself is painted black and has white lettering on it—you can see a stretch of it running off into the distance just above the patch of grass. The bright orange-red section between the black wall and the opening through which we're about to walk is a sliding gate.

When the river rises (remember that it's tidal, and some tides are higher than others), that gate is slid shut, and it and the cement wall keep the water from flooding over the street and into the town. The immediate shoreline is flooded. Unfortunately, the wall is no longer quite high enough, so construction is underway to raise it and in the process to turn it into a grass-covered walkable dike.

We once again walked along the long row of 1880 hangars being converted for use as an open market, and when we came to it, I got a better photo of the remaining part of the Stone Castle, where the mayor lived in the 1200's. You can easily see the difference between the medieval parts and the new construction dating from addition of the cruise terminal.

The 1962 statue at the right (by Albert Poels) is Antwerp's "other" giant, the Lange Wapper. He's a shape-shifting water sprite and trickster who (among other things) appears to drunks and miscreants and scares them straight.

On the way up from the river bank to the Grote Markt, we passed two other interesting statues. At the left here, on the terrace of a pub, is a life-size equestrian John Wayne. Unfortunately, he's lost his hat, his right hand, and the bridle of his horse but is apparently beloved of the locals nonetheless.

At the right is a 1950 statue by Constatin Meunier), labeled "Work, Freedom" commemorating the dockworkers of the city. During most of WWII, while Antwerp was occupied by the Germans, it suffered little damage, but after it was liberated in 1943, it was vital to the allies, who needed the port to deep supplies flowing to allied troops fighting their way across Europe toward Germany. At that point, the Germans began a heavy bombing campaign, trying to disable the port. The dockworkers of Antwerp braved that constant bombardment to keep unloading the ships and keep the supplies flowing.

I sort of wonder whether the dockworkers themselves would quite approve of the sinuously sensual Italian contraposto stance in which Meunier portrayed them, but I guess it's the thought that counts.

We reached the Grote Markt while it was still early, and the delivery trucks were out. I was delighted to get this shot of a van giving the Flemish names of cuts of beef. We were still walking, so I didn't get a chance to go around the other side to look for the hindquarters.

I did get a better shot of the city hall, though, with the statue of Brabo in front. (Brabo's first name, according to Marÿke, our guide, was Silvius.)

The walking route of this tour was almost the same as the one we took earlier on our progressive lunch, but the information supplied by the two guides was sometimes quite different. This guide went into more detail about the façade of the city hall. For example, it was built in 1565, but the date at the top of the tower says 1564 because in those days, New Years was celebrated at Easter time.

Statues representing Justice (left) and Prudence (right) appear on either side of Brabo, and just about on a level with him. Note that Justice lacks a blindfold; justice wasn't blind, because you had to stay on the good side of the Spanish to get it. Prudence holds a mirror (truth) in one hand and a snake (lies) in the other.

Above them, in the center, just above the hand Brabo is about to throw is the Virgin Mary. According to the guide, there used to be "butt-nekid" man up there, but the Catholic Spanish didn't like that and replaced him with Mary. In fact, the Spanish didn't like the reformation either; they brought the inquisition here to push the protestants out. The Netherlands broke away and became protestant; Belgium stayed with the Spanish and stayed Catholic.

The Spanish then blockaded the Scheldt (the previous guide said the Dutch blocked it to keep the Spanish out of Antwerp; I guess they were actually trying to keep them inAntwerp). At that point, Amsterdam prospered and Antwerp declined (remember Bruges's golden age was the 15th century, Antwerp's the 16th, and Amsterdam's the 17th.

To either side of Mary, between her and the green pinnacles, are centaurs with huge clubs beating on what look like horned lions.

In the 16th entury Antwerp was already an international trade center. For a week, twice a year (April and October), they would have annual markets. People from all over Europe would gather in this square to arrange business. Guilds would decide details, like the butchers would set the amount of salt it took to corn meat and how thick a steak should be. The guilds also negotiated with the mayor; if all the butchers complained and threatened to go on strike, things could get done.

From the Grote Markt, we moved on to the cathedral square (the one with Nello and Patrasche using the pavement as a blanket), where I finally found an angle from which to photograph the wrought-iron superstructure of the well of Quentin Matsys. That's Brabo on top, this time dressed as the Roman soldier he supposedly was.

Nearby, this stone relief on the wall of the cathedral commemorates him. At the left is a collection of painters' equipment and at the right an anvil and blacksmithing equipment. The guide added that a bar named after him is the oldest in the city.

Written 18 June 2023

In front of the cathedral, a group of Asian young people, clearly a troupe of gymnasts or dancers, were taking photos of Nello, then took turns posing for photos of each other. At the left, two of them pose in front of the cathedral doors. My photo isn't very well framed, because they took me by surprise. Other members of the group off to my right as I took the first photo were doing synchronized handstands on flat-topped concrete street bollards!

According to our guide, in the cathedral, they say mass in English each day at noon, and the cathedral is open to public 1 pm to 5 pm; show your Viking room key for free admssion.

She also pointed out notable eating and drinking establishments, for example bars with punning names, like Baret (beret) and Barok (baroque). She said that a place she pointed out that had Delirium umbrellas out front was the place to go for ribs.

We noticed several Irish pubs, and the guide told us they have so many because the best pipefitters in the world are Irish, and the city brought over a bunch of them to handle the piping for the oil port.

At the left here is the front of a breakfast restaurant—I didn't think to check whether it's only open at breakfast time or whether they'll serve you breakfast all day.

At the right is De Peerdestal (The Horse Stable), which serves classic French food, among which they feature "our famous horse steak."

Next we passed through Hendrik Conscience Square, which many consider the most beautiful square in the city. In the 1600's, when protestants were expelled, the Spanish invited religious orders from all over the world to come and built Catholic churches here. The baroque Saint Charles Borromeo church, at the left here, fronting on Concience Square, was the Jesuit contribution, built in just six years. (Back when I took Art 100, I thought I liked baroque, but since then, I've definitely come to prefer Gothic.)

In those days, the lower classes spoke Flemish, and the higher classes spoke French. Philosopher Henrik Concscience started writing books in Flemish, saying that, if you want people to become properly educated, you have to educate them in their own language. The city library now faces the church across the square.

Actually, German is now a third official language in Belgium; our guide speaks Flemish natively but is also fulent in French, German, and English.

At the right are more of the ubiquitous traffic markings. Apparently this street is too small to hold them all, so they had to add a stand-up sign. Among them somewhere is one that means "residential area; drive slowly and watch for children."

More things our guide told us between stops and while strolling back to the ship for lunch:

• Most of the pollarded trees in town are lindens. The heartshaped leaves made linden the symbol of women; oaks are the symbol of men. Traditionally, a linden was planted when a girl was born, an oak when a boy was born.
• The city's population is about 1 million, and half a million commuters come in every day from elsewhere.
• Officially, the town is about 800 years old.
• The people across the river are legally part of Antwerp but are still regarded as outsiders. The Scheldt was the boundary between Germany and France back when Charlemagne's empire was divided. No bridges were built, because they were the enemy over there. When times changed, it was too late to build a bridge because of prior development, so in the 20th century, they finally built a tunnel.
• Anywhere in Belgium, if you say, "I live in the city," that's understood to be Antwerp.
• In the 19th century, steamships found the city inaccessible because of sandbanks in the river. That's when they straightened the river and dredged it, wiping out, in the process a church, the old city hall, a couple of streets, some medieval alleys, and half the stone castle.
• The white footbridge beyond the ferris wheel leads to the pedestrian tunnel under the river. The curved ramp up next to ferris wheel leads to a river-view belvedere.
• The Brabo fountain was built in 1830, when Belgium became an independent country.
• After Napoleon said the smelly canals should go, the city let people pay to over them, and in return, they could then have that property to build on.
• The Flemish term for the red brick and white sandstone stripes on buildings like the butchers' guild is actually "bacon layers"!
• In German, you count ein (eye'n), zwei (zw'eye), drei (dry); in Flemish, it's één (een), twee ("zvee"), drie (dray).
• St. Paul's church, at the foot of blood mountain (i.e., downhill from the butchers' hall) is on the square the gallows was located.
• It's down by the river, where the sailors hung out, and therefore near the red-light district. In 1968, at 2 am, lightning struck St. Paul's and set it on fire. The only people awake and ready for action at that hour were the working ladies of the red-light district. They stormed the church and rescued all the artwork and the contents of the treasury (including the Rubens, Van Dyke, and Jordaens paintings, the relics, and all the gold objects). It's been rebuilt since, and the guide implied the priests are still rather embarrassed that they owe so much to that segment of the labor market.

The building in the left-hand photo, down on the edge of the river, is the old house of the river pilots. It's out of use now, and I think the guide said there would be a food court and other commercial space there. We're looking at one end of it rather than its broad fa&mccedil;ade, but when I blow the photo up, I can make out the statue of Brabo on the roof (greenish, silhouetted against the sky just to the right of the base of the steeple), brandishing Antigoon's hand.

The photo at the right shows the harbormaster's complex, consisting of the older building at the bottom and the ew addition, the amazing diamond-shaped tower on top, supposedly an allusion to all the diamonds that pass through the city. We're looking at it end-on in this view—it's much longer front to back that you can see here, and it has more facets that are out of sight. Just Google "harbormaster building antwerp" (without the quotes) to see better views.

I started lunch with the cauliflower soup, which like all the soups was quite good. To the left of it, you can see a couple of the fine-print appetizers: a salad of small white beans with bits of ham and bean sprouts and, surprisingly, the vitello tonnato we had on the last cruise, garnished with a caper berry. I say surprisingly, because I assumed that the cold vitello tonatto was made from the leftovers of the wonderful rosy roast veal we had had the previous night on the last cruise, and we haven't yet had the roast veal on this cruise. But as I thought about it, I realized that the roast veal was probably preprepared, sous vide, and was reposing in the coolers, still sealed in its airtight plastic, waiting to be reheated and served as roast veal. All the Easter chef had to do was take out one of the roasts, slice it thinly, and serve it with premade tuna sauce.

The main courses didn't look auspicious—two of them contained avocado anyway, and a third was the stir-fried beef I hadn't thought much of on the last cruise. So I tried the always-available chef's Niçoise salad. Only okay. The tuna was good, as were the greens, eggs, and tomatoes, but the potatoes were entirely missing, the cheese was wax, the dressing was bland, and the olives were those dreadful, tasteless water packed ones that come in a can.

I should have gone with the pasta all'arrabbiatta that David ordered. He said it was too spicy but otherwise good.

For dessert, I had the île flottant again, even though I knew it would be sprinkled with pistachoes rather than drizzled with caramel, but it was just what I expected, and I ate it before remembering to take the photo.

In the afternoon, we had a choice between the basic walking tour we had just done (repeated for the benefit of those who had spent the morning in Brussels) and one called "Delicious Antwerp," so of course we went for that one. For those not interested in the tours, Viking ran hourly shuttle buses back and forth to the center of the city.

It turned out to be the same itinerary, and the same tasting, as the "Flavors of Antwerp" we had done back on 3 April 2023, except that, because it wasn't intended to be a meal, the meat-and-potatoes course was omitted.

Actually, the itinerary wasn't exactly the same, because we didn't go to all the same establishments. We started at the Rooden Hoed (the Red Hat), where we tasted the same three beers we'd had at the Engel, but this time served with fries (we were skipping the meat, which had come with fries, and in a Belgian food tour, you couldn't very well omit the fries!)—we were probably there because the Engel doesn't do food, so we couldn't have gotten the fries.

The chocolate stop was also at a different establishment, Elisa Pralines. Again, the wares were exquisite, but perhaps a narrow shade less exquisite than the ones on the earlier tour.

We passed through the same little network of medieval alleyways as on the previous tour (apparently it's the only one left in the whole city). At the left is the view down a little side branch to a tiny courtyard filled with plants, lanterns, and two loung chairs draped with shaggy fake-fur throws.

At the right is the staircase down to Estro Armonico grill-restaurant. Its bulkhead doors were closed when we passed by the last time.

Back out on the street, we passed this sign advertising the amazing "signature" ice cream cone of the Amorino gelato shop, which seem to have a macaron stuck on top of it!

At the right is the window of the shop (the same one as last time) where we tasted the Elixir d'Anvers. To the left of it, bottles of Advocaat brand bottled eggnog, 14.9% alcohol. The elixir is 37%.

While we tasted, I took the opportunity to get some more photos through the windows of the neighboring lace shop. At the left are bookmarks, at the right rose and lily-of-the-valley motifs and what seem to be placemats.

The bookmarks are only 6.50 euros each, so they may be machine-made. The rose is 13.50, the lily-of-the-valley 10.00, and the placemats range from 56.00 at the bottom to 145.00 at the top.

Once again, we got little hand-shaped butter cookies on the walk back to the ship. They originated in 1934 in a competition won by a Jewish baker. Since 1952, they're everywhere.

More stuff we learned as we walked around and on the way back to the ship.

• The city currently has one pedestrian tunnel, one bike tunnel, and 2.5 car tunnels (two working and a third half built) under the river. The Scheldt is the only river in the world with no bridges at all.
• The old city wall dated from 1000, but the Vikings had a wooden palisade before that.
• The most famous Belgian pilsner is Stella Artois; you'll see it everywhere. You can get a Stella for 3 euros, sometimes even 2.
• legal drinking age for beer is 16, for wine and hard liquor, 18.
• Belgian beers range from 3% to 10–12 alcohol.
• University fraternities have a tradition of bringing their song song books to the pub. Someone calls a page number, they stand to sing the song on thag page, should "ad fundum" (Latin for "to the bottom"), chug a whole beer, slam their glasses on the table, and sit down. They have the glasses refilled before repeating the whole process with a different song.
• Some brewers now make kiwi and even banana krieks.
• The Liefmann's brewmaster is a woman, the only one in the country.
• Our guide's top five places to visit in Antwerp:
  • The cathedral, its interior, and the paintings inside.
  • The medieval alleyway we walked through
  • The Maas museum (the red one with escalators) and its viewing platform. Apparently its Michelen-starred restaurant has three stars; it's on the 9th floor, below the viewing platform on the 10th. That would be our first choice for a repeat visit.
  • The railway station (a 30 min walk east of the center of town), a massive structure built around the turn of the 19th century.
  • The zoo.
• The Elixir d'Anvers was first brewed in 1863 as a medication for horse colic. It contains 32 different herbs and spices, most prominently anise, saffron, cinnamon.
• Did I say this earlier? Bruges was golden in 15th century, Antwerp in 16th, Amsterdam in 17th. Also 80% of rough and 50% of cut diamonds come through Antwerp.

Somewhere along the way (in the cathedral square, maybe?), I spotted this little red guy over an arched doorway. It's a "space invader," made of tiles, I think, and not just painted on. You still spot them all over Europe.

I skipped the 5:30 pm enrichment talk on Life in Belgium Today.

Dinner started out well, with the Norwegian gravlax again (and again accompanied by the useless little round of pumpernikel).

But I should have gone with the the regional-specialty beef carbonade (Flemish beef stew with beer), but I ordered the "shrimp sauté Provençal, and this is what I got: a heap of perfectly good plain white rice surrounded by shrimp straight from the sack of frozen cooked shrimp (they did, at least, thaw them), undercooked zucchini slices, and a couple of cherry tomatoes, all drizzled with unseasoned tomato purée. Nothing sautéed about it, and except maybe for the choice of vegetables, nothing "Provençal."

Dessert was good, though: the regional-specialty profiteroles again.

During dinner, the ship cast off, again, bound for Ghent.