You can't go home

Day 5 – Wednesday – Lake Overmere-Donk

Woke up late at the Diamond Hotel. The noise of trains and traffic below no problem evidentally. Across at the Belgie-Lei apartment buildings, a window washer sits in a swing, a bucket and squeegees hanging from his belt, gently swaying to and fro with a dancer’s steady rhythm and fluidity. No movement wasted as he massaged and caressed each little windowpane. Like he’d washed those windows a million times before and could do it in his sleep. Checked out and left Antwerp for our next destination: Vinkt.

Enroute we passed several houses where prostitutes ply their trade morning, noon and night. Like big spiders in a web, each girl presents herself in the big front picture window with special costumes and lights and a chair maybe, waiting for a passing motorist to slow down and check her out, stop, come in, yessir!

Stopped for lunch at Lake Overmere-Donk, which is in East Flanders, where my companion lived until he was about 9.

Before going to the restaurant, we drive the one block (remember, I’m ‘walking’ with crutches) to where his old home still stands. Up a gently sloping hillside, past a manicured privet hedge and behind a glass and wood monstrosity that is now a restaurant, the tip-top of an old house can be seen. It’s hard to tell what style architecture it is, but it's striking because it doesn't seem to be made of brick. There’s a small broad roof and a sharply peaked front façade just visible, and an old whitewashed garage up a long driveway behind the house.

As we sit in the car, he tells me of his boyhood adventures and how things used to be: an orchard in the back yard, ice-skating on the lake. Just across Donklaan Straat – as scenic as it gets - is the longest lake in Belgium, Overmere-Donk. Roses, rush and manicured hedges fringe the visible shoreline. Boats sit waiting to be rented. Close by, a small island, home to a miniature forest, contrasts with a round manmade fountain further out, shooting plumes into the wind, sprays of moisture heading south in the gray day.

As unsightly as the old family house has become as a restaurant, right next door, however, takes the cake for bad – the Wok Palace. A picture worth a thousand words.

Diamond and Dim Sum

Day 4 – Tuesday - Antwerp

Staying at the Diamond Hotel in Antwerp. Straight out the window, a hodge-podge of residential windows and curtains and buildings and rooftops in dull browns. Passers-by across the street six floors below are men with long, uncut sideburns, dressed in black trousers, white shirts and top hats; and modestly-dressed women wearing wigs, pushing baby strollers and holding hands of even more children. Leaning further out the window, directly below, every five minutes a subway train appears briefly, then disappears down a tunnel. A macabre discovery on the ledge outside the window: a hundred years of cigarette butts (including an overflowing ashtray) slowly decomposing, all turned the same brown color as a smoker’s lungs.


We are in Antwerp to visit my companion’s son Nathan and his long-time girlfriend Goshia, and hopefully see their new apartment they are in the process of remodeling. Joining us is Goshia’s cousin Roman [say: ROW-man] who lives near The Haag, but is here working on the new apartment. We enjoy the evening and dim sum at an outside table at Lucy Chang’s, across from a statue of Neptune.

Traffic and driving is crazy in Antwerp, even for a native-born son. I would never have found my way back to the hotel.

Etend en drinken

Day 3 – Monday - Aardenburg

Eating and drinking is not cheap in The Netherlands.

Stopped for lunch at Hotel Restaurant De Eenhoorn in the nice little town of Oostburg. Two salads and two beers for €36.50 (over $50). Another typical little town square where driving cars is discouraged by the inconvenience of not being able to park, and where bicyclists rule.

Spent the night in Aardenburg. There are Roman ruins nearby, dating to after 212 BC, so I think that means this area is above sea level. Out the window from the room, the wind rustles the leaves of an old Ginkgo, doves coo-coo, birds chirp, and church bell type chimes of ‘Frere Jacques’ float up from the little town square.




Later, across the square two beers at Lekens Café-Restaurant, Mossel-en Palinghuis, cost €7.00 ($10). Dinner at the Hotel Restaurant Rudanna Castra was €28.70 ($42), which was a deal compared to lunch, I guess. Once again, fresh flower arrangements abound.

Father & Son

Day 2 – Sunday - Middelburg

A short drive from Middelburg is the small coastal town of Veere, which means ‘ferry.’ Father and son pose with cannon on a cold windy autumn day. The sky is gray. It’s been around a year since they last saw each other. The son’s back is killing him.

There are lots of tourists. Crutching around is hard on the uneven cobblestones. My palms especially hurt. Haven’t seen any handicapped people. Everyone here is in good shape; slim and well dressed astride their bicycles.

Surprising to me, lots of people still smoke cigarettes though, especially at the outdoor cafes. Huge umbrellas with gas heaters underneath prolong the warmth while people watching. Big kettles of steamed mussels are the thing to have here. With beer, of course. And fried potatoes. The buildings are magical and unbelievably old and interesting.

Haven’t seen any homeless people or beggars.

When researching what the heck to say about Veere, I came across this youtube link on Veere’s official web site. It’s good. Watch it. Laugh. Toss your hair over your shoulder.

Middelburg and Real Plates

Day Two – Sunday - Middelburg

Awoke late to a serenade of church bells. Ten minutes left for the hotel’s free/included breakfast at the restaurant downstairs. Threw on clothes and rushed down.

Beautiful vases of fresh flowers surround the diner. First along the breakfast buffet was the stainless steel industrial coffee-making machine (the size of a bathtub) with different buttons for coffee, espresso, café, mocha, or cappuccino. And naturally, there's six kinds of little cookies, and cream and sugar, and chocolate to go with the coffee. There’s croissants, assorted breads, eight kinds of chocolate sprinkle spreads in little boxes (stuff a few in your pocket for later), butter, little jars of jams, and eggs scrambled or hard-boiled, bacon, and soft slices of komijn (fennel seed cheese) round out the protein.

What was missing? Throwaway containers. Throughout Holland and Belgium, every order of coffee, tea, beer etc. comes with a full serving of set-the-table. Stainless steel utensils and glass glasses, ceramic plates, cups and bowls. Coffee always comes in a cup with a saucer, on a tray with chocolate, cookies, cream, sugar and sometimes even a little glass of water. All arranged artfully on a square or rectangular platter.

And on garbage day, in front of each house, a small bag (made from decomposable material, I’m told) sits out on the curb for collection.