Category Archives: do & go

things you should do, places you should go

Know your Masters

24 Sunday May 2020

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Lockdown seems eternal. We are allowed to go out for some particular reasons, but none of it is much fun. Shopping in crowded cities with masks on, having to wait in line, being attentive not to come too close to others, wiping your hands with gel so often the skin bursts. That’s not really relaxing nor fun.

A guest in FOMU

Whatever we want to do we need to think ‘is that allowed?’. The rules are so complicated and there are so many exceptions and discussions that one would doubt just about anything. Can we take the bike in the car to drop us off somewhere far off (within Belgium, of course)? Can we go for a walk in the city when the stores are closed? Can we go for a ride with no destination without leaving the car? Etc. How on earth do you fill up your Sunday with something fun??

But then we found something!

Stephan Vanfleteren in FOMU

While zipping our coffee this morning we thought that maybe a visit to the museum (=allowed) might be a fun option. We need to make an online reservation and we imagine them all fully booked. But no! Just one look on the website showed us that we are not too late! The first museum I checked still had loads of availability, and a couple of clicks later we have the entry ticket on our phones. We’re off to Antwerp.

Stephan Vanfleteren FOMU

The roads are fuller then before, but still quite empty. So empty you can’t even rely on WAZE anymore. It’s a dark gloomy day, ideal for a visit to the museum.

We parked in front of the FOMU, where the exhibition of Stephan Vanfleteren has been extended, due to Corona. We have seen the exhibition already, last year. It was so popular that we could practically walk on the heads. Too crowded to read the names and info on the little tags next to the photographs. Those were the pre-corona days where tons of people could be packed in 1 room. Thinking about it now already makes me feel dizzy.

Stephan Vanfleteren FOMU

Now it was more than perfect. It was us, and maybe 4 or 6 other people, so we had all the time in the world to look at the work of one of the best Belgian photographers ever, time to enjoy, to reflect, to read, to think.

A museum visit we combined with a walk on the shores of the river, (probably not allowed), where in normal circumstances, the cold wind would have chased us into a bar to have a hot chocolate or a coffee. But not today. The new normal send us back to our car to drive home and have our drink there.

One of my favorite works… one you have to see live!

But still, it was great. It was a welcome diversion of what seems to be our new life -for now-. Enjoy our master! This a perfect to do tip!

If you haven’t seen the exhibition yet, you still have time, but now the time is perfect! Buy your tickets here; Extended until September 13. Waalse Kaai 47 in Antwerpen.

Spa-see-ba (thank you)

20 Tuesday Dec 2016

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The other day I had lunch with my mom, I don’t know how we got to this, but she mentioned that she thought St. Petersburg is the most beautiful city she has ever seen. And she has seen a lot. Of course, St. Petersburg has been on my ‘to see’ list since forever, just like Paris and London is on most peoples lists, but for one reason or another I never checked it out. Probably because it has always had the reputation of being very expensive. 
But nowadays our lives have changed. Information is at everyone’s reach and while waiting for the soup to boil, out of boredom, I started to check prices on my phone, and less then 24h later, pleasantly surprised by the what I had found, I had my trip booked. 
And then I was overwhelmed. 
I just couldn’t believe it. 
St. Petersburg, Russia, here I come!


Russia has always been present in European history. The tsars. Peter the great. Catherine the great. Alexander II and Napoleon. World War I and II. L’hermitage. Tolstoy and Dostojevski. Communism. Lenin and Stalin. St. Petersburg, Petrograd, Leningrad and then again St. Petersburg. RASPUTIN! Winter palace. Cold. Snow. East front. Cold War. Faberge eggs. Alexander III. Anastasia. Did she survive or didn’t she? Russia speaks to our imagination. It always has and always will. 
We know a lot and at the same time we know nothing. I had 10 days -the time needed to get a visa- to get informed and I decided on reading Montefeori’s ‘the romanovs’, which had been on my to read list for a while. 300 years of history and I don’t know how many tsars in only 700 pages. I should have known it would leave me with my hunger. 
So I am still overwhelmed. There is too much to know, about Russia in general and St. Petersburg in particular, and I know so little. 
Our first quick walk through town, through a beautiful street with an unpronounceable name, overwhelmed me even more. My gosh it is beautiful! Never did I see such beautiful Christmas decoration, such a beautifully illuminated city. So European and still so foreign. 
So I started learning, at the bottom, starting with the basics, like a silly tourist, by asking the waiter how you say ‘thank you’ in Russia. Repeating it 10 times, only to realize that when he brought the next glass of wine, I had already forgotten it. I feel silly speaking English. 
St. Petersburg. I am overwhelmed. I need to get to know you. I already know now that I won’t have enough time and I know I will have to come back. 
St. Petersburg. I love you already. 

Every King wears a Crown

06 Wednesday Jul 2016

Posted by in Belgium, do & go

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As we all know, every king wears a crown… Although I do know it has become a bit out of fashion ; apart from maybe the British Queen, who still wears one?  I have never seen our king with a crown, and I even wonder if he has one. But still, the Belgians have an official Coronation Feast, even though it has nothing to do with our Royals, and everything with Saints. For this you must go to the city of Tongeren, Limburg, every 7 years.

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So that is what I did. I drove down into the deep Limburg, close to the boarder with Wallonia (our French part), close to the German Belgian part (yes, we do have a German part in Belgium, and German is an official Belgian language), and the Netherlands. It is so far away from where I am staying (close to Bruges and Ghent), that is seems like another country. The language spoken is a strong Limburg dialect that sounds so odd to me that I was doubting wether they were speaking Flemish or German, and I had to constantly ask people to repeat what they said as I didn’t get it the first time. It is about 150km from where I am staying. A mere 1:30h drive. This is Belgium. 

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Tongeren is small town in the south east of Flanders, with an oversized basilica (build in the 13th C and UNESCO heretage). It has played an important role in history. We have all heard of Ambiorix and the Eburones, who angered Ceasar by ambushing his army and thus killing about 9000 of his men. This Caesar, enraged and humiliated, then extinguished the whole tribe and gave another Germanic tribe, the Tungri, permission to settle in the area, and thus Tongeren was created.

Because of its strategic position it got the status of Municipium and Civitas, but the glory didn’t last. After the Roman era it came into decline and although importance went up and down over the centuries, it never returned to its former Roman status of importance. Today it is known for its Gallo-roman museum, for its statue of Ambiorix, and for the septennial Coronations Feasts.

From the 14th century on, every 7 years for the duration of 2 weeks, the relics of the church were put on view for the pelgrims to see, until it was abolished by the French in 1790. It wasn’t until 1890 that the Coronations Feast, with procession like we know it today, came to life, after the bishopric of Luik received permission for a Canonical Coronation of ‘Our Lady Mary Cause of our Joy‘, by pope Leo XIII.

Unless there was a war going on, it has taken place every 7 years ever since, and is today at his 18th edition. People from Tongeren date events from before or after a Coronation, and tell each other which one was the last one they saw. It is an important event in which 3000 of the 30,000 inhabitants, from newborn babies to elderly in wheelchairs, and all ages in between, participate in the procession. The others helping behind the scenes or standing in the streets watching the story telling procession pass. It shows several events in Marys life, and of course the statue of Mary herself joins the walk through the town. And afterwards, just to get a good view on things, you can see the whole story replayed during an evening open air play.

It is a 1 week event, with 4 processions, followed by an evening play and other events; including an photo exhibition. So now that I have put Tongeren, Limburg on the map, hop in your car and drive over. There are 2 more processions on the way (Friday the 8th and Sunday the 10th of this month), and hurry up, if you miss it you must wait another 7 years to get another chance. It is a nice area, and a cosy little town. Make it a day trip, and visit the photo exhibition and the Teseum. You can either reserve a ticket for the procession or take your own chair and sit where ever alongside the roads, but you will need to buy a ticket if you want to see the open air play which, unfortunately, is sold out.

For more details, check their website.

 

 

 

 

“I kiss her on the mouth…

19 Sunday Jul 2015

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no matter her stinking breath” (Stephan Vanfleteren about Charleroi) 

 

It is a dark and gloomy day. One of those that are typically Belgian, although, ever since I got here -it already seems months it is just weeks- we have had none. A day we decided was ideal to visit my grandmothers city of birth. City of birth, although her real roots can’t be found there : apparently her parents just happened to be there when she was born.

Charleroi, an old cole mining city in the south of Belgium. In ‘those days’, it was the 3th richest area of Europe. Cole mines and heavy metal factories were so blooming that they had to import ‘hands’ from the Flanders, Italy, Spain and Greece. That was probably the only reason why my great grandparents were there before the first world war, and why my gran had ‘Dampremy’ on her birth certificate.

Since then it has changed a lot. The mines are closed, so have the factories. And apparently, for the last 50 years nothing significant has been done to restore economy, to re-school the unemployed, no reconversion at all, to bring life back to this deteriorating place.

To us, Flemish, Charleroi has a bad reputation : we see it as the example of all that is wrong in the southern part of our dear country. It is poor, dangerous, dark and gloomy, and corrupt (‘Palermo by the Samber‘). More then 1/4 of the population is unemployed, and has been for years. It is also known as ‘the ugliest city in the world’.

Charleroi is obviously not the most logical tourist destination. But we went anyway.

 

Driving past the center towards the Musée de la Photography made us think, just for a minute or so, that it might not be that bad. Beautiful city villas and mini castles, dating from the 19th and beginning of the 20th century, one next to the other, not all in ruins, witness some of the prosperity the city once had. Only to be put back into reality by the photos of Stephan Vanfleteren -my favorite Belgian photographer- : Touching, dark, hurting and depressive at times, if not always. Confirming our expectations.

Stephan Vanfleteren has a way of getting to people on the edge of society, and to express what he sees in a different way then most photographers. Over the years, he has spend weeks, days, nights, wandering through the town, which he learned to love, meeting with its people. Although poor and unemployed, the Carolos (inhabitants of Charleroi) are extremely friendly and hospitable. And although the situation is still extremely bad, some changes and improvements seem to be coming. Slowly.

 

But also the words in which he describes the city are as catchy as the images.

‘The unemployment numbers are shocking. Nowhere in Belgium the numbers are visually translated into reality. You see it in the streets, the houses, in the bars, the gambling houses… There is a name for it : degradation. You can not only read the misery off the streets, but off the peoples faces. The face of poverty is pale, gloomy, stupefied, it has broken teeth. In the past pneumoconiosis caused early death, today it is alcohol and nicotine that break the adult bodies.’

We had lunch in the center. It had started to drizzle, it was darker and gloomier still. Not the most glamorous way to see any city. It was crowded with people going to the Sunday market, lots of fruits, nicer and fuller then on the market in my town it seemed, and other food, plants, clothes… We didn’t stay long enough to feel the poverty and misery Stephan Vanfleteren found, but honestly, we weren’t really looking. I am no Vanfleteren wannabee, nor am I what we call a ‘disaster tourist’ (ramptourist), enjoying photographing other peoples misery and then quickly go home to forget all about it. I am glad to have seen the exhibition, and what better location could it have been than in the town that is its subject. It certainly is a place with potential, and I can only hope that the situation gradually improves, and thad one day, we can see Charleroi again in its full glory.

If you can’t make it to Charleroi (you should at least try), buy the book :

‘Charleroi, il est claire que le gris est noir, mais Charleroi sera blanc, un jour’, Stephan Vanfleteren. 

exhibition until dec 6, 2015

photos : one of the main square of Charleroi, in front of the ugly church, the others images of the exhibition. 

NB Charleroi is also known as ‘Brussels South’, the Ryan Air hub. It is 50 km from Brussels.

Lists

01 Wednesday Jul 2015

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I think everyone has a list of places he or she wants to visit in his or her life. Historical places, see the land where your favorite tv show or movie was filmed, hear say : about everyone you know has been there and loved it. London Paris New York, New Zealand, Patagonia, Bora Bora… 
I am quite sure that Scotland figures high in many a list. It is a country rich in history : you could stay in the same place for days and visit castles around you, or travel around and see one every single day. Its nature, at least in the north, is mainly unspoiled and in a way it resembles some parts in Patagonia, but then without the sun and the wind. Several places have definitely been used in various movies. It is full of water, lochs or seas, so plenty of opportunity to do water sports. And if you enjoy some Scottish heritage that tastes good, there are plenty of whiskey distilleries to visit. 
If only the weather were a bit more cooperative, but then I would imagine it way too crowded to be fun. Many a time we told each other that this is probably a great place in summer, until we realized we actually are in summer. The wild landscapes go perfectly with low dark clouds and the sun coming out just occasionally, but it’s the lack of agreeable temperatures that withholds you from getting in a true summer spirit. Temperatures between 7 and 14C are more like Buenos Aires winter temperatures then what we expect in summer. On the over hand, days are so long it hardly gets dark at night, so however cloudy it is, you are sure to get enough light in a day. 
While Europe is suffering and sighing under a terrible heat wave, temperatures towards 40 and more, tennis players almost killing themselves on the main court in Wimbledon in 40 degrees, northern Scotland will get a mere 22 degrees. A perfect place for heat haters. 
But whatever the weather, Scotland is Scotland, and actually should be on everyone’s to do list. Lots to see, lots to do, good food, and great people (if only you understand what they say).

Although my biggest disappointment being not having seen any of the William-Lawson’s-whiskey-commercial men in quilts. Do they only exist in dreams? 😁
William Lawson’s whiskey commercial men in quilts

Coincidence

05 Friday Jun 2015

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Finally.

The Belgians are very patient people. For days, for weeks even, the weatherman has been promising summer temperatures (whatever is above 22°C), which -the same weatherman- has been postponing and canceling, time after time. Some Belgians don’t mind the cold, and with average temperature of 13,2°C in May, they wore summer clothes anyway, (light short dress or shorts, bare legs, sandals), after all, it is spring, isn’t it? Only looking at them caused me to get goosebumps. Many others were just like me wearing layers of warm clothes and boots, just patiently waiting until the weatherman finally stood by his promise and gave us some heat.

To the Belgian, the ultimate summer experience is sitting on a terrace, having a drink with friends, dinner even, much more even then let’s say, a dip in the pool, or a day at the beach. As soon as the sun comes out, and even before the earth heats up, all of us are pulled towards the ‘terraces’. Each restaurant and bar that has the slightest possibility to put some chairs and tables out, does so. Many of them even put heaters to attract early courages people in, or rather, out. Some hand out blankets.

We call it ‘terrasjesweer’ (terrace weather) and we even have a verb for it ‘een terrasje doen’ (to do a terrace).

Today is real terrasjesweer, for the first time this year. It must be around 30°C. Just for the day. Thunderclouds are supposed to be packing above us in an hour or so. And exactly today, one of the major Belgian newspapers De Morgen, publishes an article ‘the 19 best terraces in Belgium’. Of course this isn’t a coincidence. They probably had this article ready since Easter.

But just check out number 16 on the list. Well isn’t that ’t Oud Gemeentehuis? Isn’t that where you can see my #urbancars collection? There is no room for coincidence here. This is just great. So please have a good look around when you enter the restaurant and enjoy it all, the summer weather, the terrace and especially the photos!

Article in De Morgen, restaurants’s website, the #urbancar collection

E.U. avant la lettre

23 Saturday May 2015

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Long before (almost) all the European countries united in the European Community, now known as European Union (E.U.), the Europeans had this one yearly event that united them more then ever. The Eurovision song contest. It all began at the beginning of international broadcasting, (1956) which nowadays seems as natural as rain that falls. In those days TV was still something, and broadcasting over the boarders seemed like science fiction. Many people probably still remember the first European Eurovision Contest. For me, this contest has always existed. As far back as I can think, I was allowed to stay up late and watch. It was a big feast : it was the only night I could stay up late, and very often I could invite a friend to sleep over so we could pretend we were voting from out of our sofa.

In those days the singers had to sing in their native language, there was a big orchestra, everyone had to bring their ‘conductor’ who even got a seperate applause, and there was also a limit in people that could go on stage, which meant there was no room for dancers and complicated choreography. And it was prohibited to play the music on the radio beforehand. Whatever you saw and heard, you heard it for the first time.

But then the Iron Wall fell down and all the Eastern European countries and even Russia started to participate, and everything changed. First of all it became necessary to split up the contest in semi finals and finals, because there were just too many countries (40 this year). Ever since that day Belgium only got through the semi’s twice. Well, even before that day Belgium did not exactly have a history of winning or sending in strong candidates, usually one of the bets we made was if we would end last, or one but last, but at least we knew we were participating.

Where as the contest usually had the same typical quite boring ‘Eurovision-songcontest-style’ -say Abba, Celine Dion, Johnny Logan…- with the coming of the Eastern European countries the style has become very bombastic and theatrical. The more shocking, the more provocative, the better, it seems. Participants can now sing in whatever language they chose, which usually means English as that language sells better. The orchestra has been exchanged for recorded music, the stage is bigger and more impressive then ever, which makes the performers seem to disappear in the total extravagance.

The ‘European boarders’ do seem to have expanded over the years. Israel has been participating for years, Azerbaijan is a member, and this year even Australia will be participating.

We used to record the songs on tape, and listened to it for weeks afterwards. I remember my aunt having the full collection as a piece of pride in her cupboard. Very often we bought the winning single. But now the whole show seems too big, too commercial, too many countries I don’t even know, too much of everything, that I am not even sure if I will watch.

But one is certain, tonight I will not bet that Belgium will end up last. Loic Nottet, the 19 year old Walloon, who ended 2nd in The Voice 2014, will certainly not embarrass us.

Go Belgium Go!

The Oldest House in Town

21 Thursday May 2015

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I am told that there has been a lot to do about the oldest house in Antwerp, also known as the city hall. Living abroad means I usually miss out on this kind of news, so when I am visiting I totally rely on friends and family to get me updated.

This year Antwerp is celebrating the 450th birthday of the city hall, which is already ‘dressed up’ with 67 flags, and they intend to fully take advantage of the opportunity to organize exceptional tours, visits, and a small exhibition. If you are lucky, Bart De Wever, the mayor himself, who seems to be passionate about history -after all, he has got a history degree- and even more so about his town and its town hall, might be the one guiding you.

The exhibition shows the history of the town hall, with interesting video messages telling different aspects of history, the work of the mayor, how the town council worked etc, and there is also a lot of information about the restorations.

The city hall was inaugurated in 1565 after some financial troubles in financing the construction, only to be burned in 1570 by the Spanish Soldiers, a fire that destroyed the interior and the roof. Only 2 years later they started the reconstruction.

Even though the a guided visit should definitely be on your to do list, tours are fully booked until mid October 2015, although I am told that during the period of the festivities (until february 2016), you can have an unguided visit to the city hall in weekends. For all those far away or not able to get a ticket, you can always console yourself by taking this virtual tour in the City Hall, although this might make you feel bad for missing it.

But if you have no ambition to get inside, you should come to the Grote Markt to admire the outsides where, from June 4 until June 13, the area will change into an oasis of green, when the ‘flower power’ takes over. A flower carpet will be put into place, which can be visited from the 4th onto the 13th, the last will be harvest day, the day you can take some of the flowers home.

tickets for the guided tours, festivities end in February 2016

Folklore Junkie

14 Thursday May 2015

Posted by in Belgium, do & go

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Where ever in the world I am I look up Folklore,  but when in Belgium it seems folklore has to come to me. I always seemed to think that there was no such thing as folklore left in this country. And although I had heard of the Procession of the Holy Blood in Bruges, it had always seemed too far off and inaccessible. Until my friend took me to Bruges today.

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It is the count of the Flanders, Diederick van den Elzas, who brought a crystal flask containing Christ’s’ blood from Jerusalem in 1150. The first known Procession dates back from 1304, the oldest known program booklet dates from 1722, and in 2009 the Procession of the Holy Blood became UNESCO Cultural Immaterial Heritage. About 1700 people participate in this big parade through town. Most participants participate every year, some characters go from father to son to grandson. Some groups are so traditional that it is difficult to get in. But there are also ‘new’ participants, schools help out, youth clubs, all volunteers, and for many this is the event of the year.

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Also city officials and church representatives are present. The procession shows scenes of history of the city, and religious and biblical scenes. It all has a very medieval touch and style, costumes from that era, wagons pulled by the big beautiful Flemish horses, only the spectators are from today.

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Not that I saw all this in person. After checking out how they were all getting ready in a big hall, putting on their beautiful, perfect costumes, some ready to go and having a beer while waiting, others still on the big catwalk-style stage to get a thick layer of make up, or waiting in line to get the final approval before the processions starts. A lot of old people but as many young and even small kids. Boys and girls. Sheep, horses and camels. It promised to be a perfectly organized magnificent folklore show that parades through out the city of Bruges.

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I was so ready, so I went back into the street looking for the perfect chair that would give me the perfect view on the coming -perfect- procession. Guarded with camera, raincoat and even an umbrella -you never know in Belgium- I finally sat down waiting while the crowds were arriving and taking their seats. It started ; a typical Belgian style fanfare came from the opposite direction, on its way to pick up the beginning of the procession, when just before my eyes, they were stopped by a police car, literally 5 minutes before the due start time, telling the people through a microphone that the Procession was canceled due to bad weather, and there would be no refund of the tickets (the 5€ you had to pay to sit down, or the more expensive places on the tribunes).

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Disappointment was big. Lots of people just held on to their paid chair, long after every one else had started to move. Last time it got canceled was in 1997 and it all seemed so surreal! I started walking around town, looking for the Holy Blood, which surely was going to be brought back to the chapel, when I was told that the expense of drying the whigs and costumes is so high, that they can’t and do not want to risk getting wet. The whole Procession is now postponed to … next year.

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beat queens

hold on to your paid chairs

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The Procesion of the Holy Blood takes place on Ascencion Day in the city of Bruges. Put it in your agenda check out their website for details. The best way to get there is by train. You can pay for a ticket on the tribunes, or just pay a few euros for a chair on the sidewalks, or stay standing. The Procesion takes 1:30h. Canceled when raining.

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Horrid Place

03 Sunday May 2015

Posted by in Argentina (home), do & go

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If you know just something about soccer, you know Boca. Probably the most known, maybe even the most famous team. I cannot say I am a fan, nor that I am not, without getting being scolded at, as it is not the only team here. And here, soccer matters. You are a team : Boca, River, Racing,… Me, I am lucky enough to be excused for not supporting one team or another, only because my foreign accent.

Soccer often makes me smile, like this afternoon. You don’t have to watch the news or have the TV on to know there is a game on. Nor to keep up with the scores. Neighbors all around, mostly men I am afraid, come outside on their terrace, or just open their window, to shout their lungs out ‘goooooooaaaalll!!!!!’. Depending on the importance of the game they repeat it once or twice, or they keep on shouting for a minute or longer, cars start honking their horns, and I start to doubt if that counts for one goal or if there has been another one : today ‘they’ (my neighbors) won with 2 goals, and the game was pretty important.

But apart from the soccer team, the name also refers to the neighborhood where the stadium is. Or rather, the team has got its name from the neighborhood. It is said that the first Buenos Aires settlement (Fuerte de sante Maria de Buen Ayre, 16th C), was in la Boca. But this settlement was abandoned shortly after. It was only in the 19th C, between 1830 and 1852 that the huge influx of Italian immigrants shaped La Boca in how we know it today : little houses made of wood and corrugated iron, divided into even smaller places in order to house more families mainly coming from Genova, Italy. All painted with boat paint, in different colors as they didn’t have enough of one color to do a whole wall. A colorful shanty town is what it was. It used to flood with every heavy storm, living conditions were not exactly good.

Nowadays it is a still horrid place, but for different reasons. It is only 3 streets big, although nowadays you can wonder off a bit, providing that you are careful. Today the 3 streets are full of terraces and people trying to force you to open your wallet. Bringing your camera close to your eye is enough. Each bar and restaurant has their own tango dancers, and a team of aggressive waiters is set about to make sure you don’t take a picture without sitting down and buying something to drink, and after paying the check, not forgetting the 10% tip, the dancers come round with their hat and ask for more. Or the dancers follow you trying to win you over for a dance, or just to take a picture, not telling you they ask $100 for a 1 minute show. On the house’s walls are now horrid colored statues imitating fat short people hanging out of the windows and waiving at you. There have always been Maradona look-a-likes, now, of course there are several Pope Francisco’s.

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But it is and will probably be tourist place number 1. It is, unfortunately, how Buenos Aires is shown to the world and sold by travel agencies, the colorful houses with tango dancers, although to me, it is not what Buenos Aires is. It is a neighborhood I go to, over and over again, when I have visits from overseas. Or this one time, very early, before the waiters start working, before the shops open their doors. Peaceful, it seems, but to me it seemed even more desolate, sadder still.