The Price of Water in Finistère by Bodil Malmsten.

I'm in my garden in Finistère filling out change-of-address cards.  It's an afternoon at the beginning of September 2000, a  soft haze over the countryside.  The Atlantic is breathing tides and seaweed, the reassuring sound of the warning buoy like an owl.

I live in Finistère because I've moved here.  It wasn't by chance; for a woman of experience there's no such thing as chance.

Sleep with open eyes and you shall find.

... In the same way that there's a partner for every person, there's a place.  All you have to do is find your own among the billions that belong to other people, you have to be awake, you have to choose.

Extract from The Price of Water in Finistère by Bodil Malmsten.

Who could resist a book with an opening like that ...

I'm a reader who loves to fall in love with the opening paragraph.  I found this book today, by chance, in my favourite secondhand bookshop here in Belgium.  And fell in love.

I began reading it while waiting for the metro, read it as we slid through the underground on Tram 5, and will read it whenever I have a moment spare. 

It's beautiful so far.

 

View from the MAS Museum, Antwerp

I went out into the city searching for beauty today.  It had started well this morning ... there was blue sky and sunshine but I moved too slowly and voila, by the time I left the house, it was grey.

A few weeks ago, I had made one fast family visit to Antwerp's relatively new MAS museum and had found myself wondering whether the top floor might not feed my need for a view.  It's not bad but, by crikey, it's flat here. 

And then I found something beautiful ... De Veer van César

I left the MASS Museum and walked back through the grey city, carrying my heavy camera bag, wondering why an earth I had taken it out on a such a dull day.

I stopped to look through the window at my favourite art gallery here in the city.  It's the place where I consistently see art that appeals to me ... which is no mean feat.  And it's easy to pass-by, located in Maalderijstraat, between the Cathedral and Grote Markt.

Anyway, I decided I would blog about it and so asked Minske if she spoke English.  Of course she did.  Most Antwerpenaars speak English.  I asked if I might take a photograph of the gallery and share it with you here but  then ... I got distracted.

I asked Minske Van Wijk how she had ended up with the gallery and somehow, we kept talking and it turned out she had also made a short film titled De Veer van César.

I was curious to know more and, at some point, realised this film might be 'the beautiful thing' I was searching for in the city today.

And so it was.  I came home, organised my little world here, then sat back to watch.  It's delicious!  It has English subtitles (and French too), and it gives a delightful sense of this place.  A behind-the-scenes glimpse.   Oh I need to write of this in a better way but for this first taste, you only need to know that it is poetry, and beautiful cinematography, and wonderful animation ...

You can find out where to buy your own copy of the DVD over here.  Meanwhile, the trailer is below ... without subtitles.

Winter in Belgium, 2012

So ... Gert tells me, the last time we had more than 14 days without the temperature rising above zero degrees celsius was ... 1-17 January, 1941.

Tomorrow we hit Day 14 under zero celsius.

Back in 1987 and again 1997 there were 12 consecutive days under zero.

Zero celsius = 37 farenheit.

More often we've been down around -10 -14 celsius these mornings (converts to 7- 14 farenheit), and there have even been a couple of -20, when you factor in wind chill factor (-4 farenheit).

Nothing much in the way of snow but, by crikey, it's been cold here in Belgium lately.

Winter ...

Today, meanwhile, is a day of editing.  I have 2 big projects and a third smaller project to work through.  Miss 7 needs picked up from her new school way across the city and I foolishly just checked out the temperature.  It was -10 celsius at 9am.  The sky is grey, the ground in the backyard is white ... but more because the snow of a few days ago has frozen and frozen and frozen again.  They're talking of more today snow ... we kind of hope so because it pulls the temperature up. 

I rarely take off my thermal underwear in these days, and it's all about multiple layers when stepping outside.  The only question is whether to wear the leather and sheepskin coat, the one that weighs about as much as an adult polar bear, or the long black boiled-wool coat, with a polarfleece underneath. 

And then there's the hat, and scarf, the good gloves, and hiking boots, and woollen socks too.  Did I tell you it's cold here?  So very cold. 

But ... the days are getting longer!  We're hanging onto that.  The shortest days fell in the mild days of winter.  Now it's all down and dirty, weatherwise, but we have more light.  It makes things more bearable.

To work.

These Freezing Days in Antwerp ...

Wiinter has finally arrived.  I've been trying to ignore it, despite preferring that the seasons come and go in a natural way, however ... minus 20 celsius is simply rude.

And I wouldn't know about -20 celsius (reached due to a -11 frost the other day and combined with windchill factor) but I sometimes get to do the 2 hour-round-trip that is getting Miss 7 to school this year.  4 trams and some brisk walking.  A trip that involves a leather and sheepskin coat that weighs as much as an adult polar bear (my estimate in terms of weight) and multiple layers, with hiking boots, hat, gloves, and a scarf.

Tomorrow we have to be out the door by 7.30am and this morning, the radio weather people predicted a temp of -20 celsius.  I'm not excited about this.  I arrive home completely drained by the freezing cold bleak cityscape.  As I write this, at 9.31am, I checked in on my old blog and the weather there ... it's still -11.

I phoned Gert.  He works in one of the old guild houses in the city ... the pipes are frozen there.  They

have no water.  He's a bit glum too. 

However,the sun is shining. The heaters at home are working.  I did pick up my camera in an attempt to ward off thinking of the fact I have to race across the city later this afternoon.  I did see some nice light outside.  It's the view out the window behind me, here at my desk. 

Yes that is snow. 

Yes really, many Belgian home owners don't clear snow from the pavements outside their house.

Yes, walking anyplace here at the moment is increasingly treacherous as it freezes and freezes.

Well yes ... Monday is feeling kind of challenging, actually.  I'm here trying to write myself into a better mood.  It's not working, is it :-)

My very first newsletter is due out tomorrow.  If you would like to take a look, leave a comment and I will forward you a copy.  The first is going out to Everyone I know ... just that one time, then you are welcome to subscribe if it seems like something you would like to continue receiving.

And now ... to work.  Tot ziens.

An Everyday Scene at the Stadsfeestzaal on the Meir, Antwerpen

Antwerp has 165 different cultures living within its city limits, and mostly we all do okay. 

I love the vibrancy of the cultural mix ... riding the tram is like wandering the world. To me, this foreign creature who found herself living here ... being Belgian stands for so many things but on the good days it’s all about a this tribe of people who have a huge degree of tolerance and acceptance of the other. 

Our Garden in Antwerp

The temperature rose unexpectedly today ... unexpectedly because I had imagined summer was done and autumn was here.  It’s at least 23 celsius as I sit here in the garden, as per instructions from Gert.  He told me to take the laptop outside and work in the sun, using the small table he bought me for precisely that purpose.  He said ‘rest’ and so here I am, sure that my neighbours, the ancient man and his lovely wife, are wondering what on earth I am doing out here, with all of my gadgets.  I brought my camera gear too ... just in case.  The garden has poppies and sunflowers and all kinds of other things tempting me.

It was painful moving everything out here and I processed the sunflower image without really being able to see the screen.  The roofers are a bit noisy just a few doors ... or rooftops away, although their music is good.  Blaringly loud workman-style music, the same the world over I suspect, as the sound of it surely takes me back to the sound of my dad working as a fibrous plasterer or wallpaperer,out on a job.  God only knows what toxins I’m breathing in as they weld their way across that rooftop but even that is the nature of Antwerp.  You can be 110% sure you don’t want to know what you are breathing in in this city situated on the crossroads of Europe ...

Gert finally found one of our black garden toads the other day, so I guess its wondering what I’m doing out here too.  We hadn’t seen them since the autumn but there he is, making his home in the compost heap Gert is developing up the back of his garden.  The birdfeeder has been left empty since spring, as if we could have saved the elderberries from the wickedgreedy pigeons who have spent the summer gorging on them anyway. 

And clearly I’ve made the delighttful discovery that I have wifi out here in the garden.  I’m less happy about spiders, wasps and toads when it comes to gardens and more about wine, the laptop and flowers.  Although today it will become more about painkillers or red wine sometime soon.  I read that red wine really does ease arthritic joints and my joints have been honouring the high-impact motorbike crash back when I was 18 ... they creak on the stairs and ache in the cold.  What’s that about then ...

Anyway, a little snapshot in words and image from this summertime day here in Belgium.

Het Internationaal Schutterstornooi - a toast

Sometimes, lovely friends pull you into the most magical experiences…

Dank u wel, Jurjana, for a day full of ancient wonders and beautiful photographs.

This photograph arrived, via Jurjana, just now and it made me smile.  It’s rare that I am ‘in’ a photograph but I had to post it.  There I am, in the midst of the archery guild members while they make their ancient toast, in the very old City Hall here in Antwerpen.

Photo credit goes to Tom Meeus.

The View from Antwerp Town Hall ...

On a good day, with a telephoto lens, this is the view from Antwerp’s town hall ... a beautiful ancient building here in the city of Antwerpen.
They say that it is clear that it was built by a city at the height of its power and wealth.  It was finished in 1564 by architect Cornelis Floris de Vriendt and the interior decoration dates mostly from the 19th century, or so I am told.  It was a good day.

 

New Zealand Guests

I just had the most delightful weekend with Leonie and Nick ... surely two of the loveliest New Zealanders living in London.

More stories to follow, I just need permission to blog some photographs.  Meanwhile, here’s one that Leonie spotted and I stepped back a bit with the telephoto lens and shot over her shoulder.

Thanks guys, I’m still smiling over spending time with you both.

 

Gumboots and Muffins and Ruth

My life is busy ... it’s kind of action-packed.  And if it’s not action-packed, then my mind in one of those really really busy ones.

Mostly, I believe, my life is like this because I like it that way however there are days when I just run in the brick wall of tiredness & confusion.

My body goes along with me for so long and then, voila ... it just gets cross with me. 

So yes, I can zip over to Ireland, drive for the first time in 7 years, traveling over 500kms from east to west and then back in 4 days.  Go fishing, go boating (and find out I'm not good on boats), climb up the side of a small mountain to visit an extraordinary church, and spend those few days in a house full of delightful Scottish people ... and their accents.

I can have an Australian Blue Heeler dog run into my legs at the speed of sound and I can attempt to walk the resulting pain out but ... I believe it was about there that my body started rebelling.  The ankle swelled, it was painful all the rest of that day.  Less painful on waking, it continued with the attention-seeking swelling.  I ignored it.  It persisted.

Brussels Airport taught me a lesson about asking for help, when perhaps it was too little, too late.  So the ignored swelling went crazy and made me quite the miserable creature, with nothing but that long corridor in front of me.

Yesterday I did stuff I don’t remember ... but I did stuff.  Really.  There was laundry and dinner and answering emails and stuff.

Then came today, and I had the most hilarious appointment.  I do love my Belgian friend, Ruth.  She’s a writer who has just finished her first book (which went on to win the Gouden Meeuw award in 2011) but more on that when she has copies for sale.  Anyway, there was this thing she needed me to do today ... this thing that I can’t write of without smiling .  She needed a photograph of herself.  She had a plan.  She needed me to photograph her up on a roof with a book.  Not her book but anway ...

I couldn’t resist.  I started taking photographs the moment she got on the ladder, wearing her cute little gumboots pictured below.  Then there was this moment ... captured while she was between the ladder and the roof. 

And later, when she was climbing down, I’m fairly sure I would have stopped taking photographs in time to catch the ladder as it fell ... had she not stopped it with her feet. 
Yes, I’m sure I would have.

We recovered over coffee and her delicious homemade blueberry muffins.  I left the house with far more than I arrived with, including a signed copy of her book!  Dank u wel, Ruth, for picking up my tired self, making me laugh, then filling me up with delicious food and good coffee. 

Meet Ruth, or some of her.

Trains, Friends and the tiniest mention of my Nespresso Machine.

I’ve been busy and I have had no idea how to write of it all. 

Perhaps I should blog a story of each day because I know I have missed telling some beautiful stories along the way. I saw it begin to happen back in the Genova.  I dropped the ball when it came to some of the every day beauty of people and place.  There was the time I wanted to save the story of eating at Chichibio with Stefano until I could tell it beautifully ... but it slipped away in the cascade of the life I lived there.

It’s not too late though, and if you are ever in Genova and want someplace where you can enjoy exquisite food in elegant surroundings, I would suggest you hunt down Chichibio at via David Chiossone 20R.  You can phone for a reservation on 010 247 6191.  Not to be missed.  And, as always, I followed Stefano’s advice when ordering and had not one single regret. 

Grazie, Stefano ...a long overdue grazie.

Then, on Thursday, I was up and out the door with Gert.  Well, that was the intention however, he did ask me if I had my 10-ride train ticket for the big trip to Leopoldsburg and perhaps I didn’t ...

So I set out again, scarf and train-ticket packed, arriving in plenty of time to board my departing-hourly train and blogged my fabulous Wednesday from the train.  Destination reached, my lovely lovely friend, Judy, met me there with her car and over coffee we agreed, Maastricht was the destination.  I had heard rumours of book stores ... rumours whispered to me by Judy, who just happens to love books as much as me, if not more.

We started out in Selexyz Dominicanen, which has to be seen to be believed.  It is housed in a most unexpected space, a cathedral full of books, with a coffee-selling cafe up the back ... seemed like heaven to me.  I was disappointed with their selection of English books but then again, I’m not the easiest reader to please and have been spoilt by De Slegte, my favourite secondhand bookshop in Antwerpen.  It seems the English-reading Antwerpenaars and I are compatible.

After exploring Selexyz Dominicanen, Judy and I wandered off into the streets of Maastricht, making our way to the secondhand bookshop, De Slegte, Maastricht ... hooray.  And it was there that the wheels fell off Di’s Intention to be a Good and Frugal Wife.  No really huge crimes were committed.  There was a beautiful book titled Venice is a Fish, a sensual guide by Tiziano Scarpa - a Venetian poet, novelist, playwright, and essayist.  And a couple of others.  Under 20 euro altogether ...

If books are my heroin, then I think we could view this visit to my ‘supplier’ as hopeful in terms of managing my addiction.

It would have been more positive were I not currently intent on roaming the ‘Roads to Santiago with Cees Nooteboom.  A beautiful book ... exquisite.  I think you might really enjoy this one Shashikiran. 

But back to Thursday ... so Judy took me over to the river Maas, after book-shopping, to a beautiful little cafe on the edge of the water.  She wanted to show me that Maastricht really wasn’t in Luxemburg, Germany or Austria (silly kiwi girl), and it takes its name from the River Maas.  This river Okay? 
Okay ... I get it now.  Mostly.

Happy, we drove back across the border and into Belgium for dinner, where we devoured the most excellent pizza I’ve had in a while.  Dank u wel to Judy ... it was a lovely day in a lovely place with a lovely person.  And the pizza, a thank you to Willy too. 

Back in Antwerpen, and waiting for a very tardy tram 10, on the very day that Belgium was having its coldest 14 July since records began back in the 1860s.  It was an unexpected 12-14 celsius, with rain.  No one else there at the city tramstop was prepared for the summer plunge.  We were all very sad and grouchy.

Friday came along and was a slow day, where I caught up on housework and photo-processing.  There was a wee Nana-nap in the afternoon, some lovely Chianti in my evening ...

4.30am Saturday morning. 
I should have been sleeping.  I wasn’t.
I tried but no, that was me, still awake when the alarm went off at 6.30am. 
A mad dash, my bag packed (more or less), running from the house at 7.15am.  I was on my way to Brussels to visit with a lovely family ... or two.

I’ve been enjoying my recent adventures to parts of Brussels I’ve never been in.  Yes, it’s less compact than Antwerpen, difficult to navigate in some ways but those little villages within the city, like Ixelles and Stockel are so very worth visiting.

I was at Paola’s by midday and off on whole other adventure.  An international group of sculptors, a presentation of their work to the city ... champagne, red wine, lovely nibbles, excellent company and enough space in the big open-sided tent when the heavens opened and the rain poured down.

Evening came and it was a girls night in ... a multi-national private event with excellent conversations.  Oh, and the most delicious selection of food, accompanied by yet more champagne and red wine. 
Bliss ... just the 4 of us.

I arrived home today, using that first class train ticket that only costs 4euro more return on the weekend. I love first class.

Now I’m just waiting for tomorrow morning ... for breakfast and a Nespresso. 
I love my Nespreso machine.
Tomorrow ... the story of the machine.  You might want to find someone else to read, just in case I lose myself in Gollum-like mutterings ... my precious, my precious, drool, and etc.

Oh ... and I had the pleasure of spending quite some hours hanging out with this sweet little man this weekend.

A Delicious Day here in Antwerp

Note to reader: The words ‘delicious’, ‘delightful’ and ‘lovely’ are used often in this post.  Just so you know …

Yesterday was one of those delicious days I don’t want to forget but today finds me train-traveling to Leopoldsburg, with no time to sit down and savour my yesterday howevere I have packed my tiny blue travel laptop and so, here I am, writing from the train.

But perhaps it didn’t begin yesterday.  It began months earlier, when a woman called Karla wrote me a note enquiring about family photo-shoots.  It didn’t work out then but later it did. 

And the shoot was so much fun.  There was the pleasure of meeting the loveliest family, photographing the baby with the bluest eyes, hanging out with a friendly black labrador … stuff like that.

We stayed in touch, worked out a date for the photographs to be picked up and voila, we arrive at my yesterday.

Karla came over, toting her beautiful blue-eyed baby, accompanied by this lovely Irish woman who brought her very own chuckling bundle of delightful baby boy.  Really chuckley … I can’t emphasise how delicious his giggle is.  I’ll photograph him one day, it’s written all over his face when he laughs.

We sat down at my kitchen table, with tea and coffee, and talked, in that intense and delicious way that strangers sometimes do and voila, my marvellous yesterday had begun.

We looked through the photographs first, we learnt something of each others lives, I was introduced to my very first colour therapist and did I mention … we TALKED.

The babies played while we toyed with new ideas for each others lives and businesses.  There was that delightful click of like-minded souls meeting, it’s something that always amuses me.  While right-wing populist politicians work at making us fear ‘the other’, there we were, as is more often the case, finding connections across 3 different cultures and histories.

Karla and Marcia didn’t really know Antwerp at all and so we wandered into the city for a lunch.  I couldn’t resist and despite rain, I introduced them to my most favourite square here … Hendrik Conscienceplein … created by the Italian Jesuits, it soothes my soul sometimes.

We stopped in at the soup cafe, Comme Soupe, and I can’t recommend it highly enough.  It’s tiny but the soup is a truly satisfying work of art.  I should have taken a photograph but I will return there, I promise. 

Tiny cafe + two pushchairs meant that we didn’t like to stay longer than need be but afterwards, we crossed the small space to the Cupcake Cafe called Lojola Coffee and Cake, at Hendrik Conscienceplein 14. Oh my, if in Antwerp, you must pop in.

We chose divine little cupcakes to compliment our coffee and we were happy.  Delighting perhaps, in the dollhouse-like playfulness of that little cafe.  Mmm, photographs to follow.

And it was almost 4pm … so suddenly. 

We said our goodbyes in the city, and off I wandered on my next big adventure.  The buying of the Nespresso coffee machine.  Just the espresso part … inspired by a desire to avoid future pain when searching the city for good espresso. Genova and her beautiful coffees ruined me.

I felt childlike but I don’t think they knew in the shop.  Remember that feeling of having that birthday money clenched in your hot little hand as you marched off to buy that thing that you really truly wanted, forever?  It was like that.

I chatted with the woman in the busy Nespresso store, staffed by many.  She had been in Australia.

You know, the more years I am away from New Zealand, and realising both my brothers are married to Australians and living there, the more I feel that we downunder people are fairly similar and there is no insult in mistaking me for an Aussie.

Beaming, and still feeling like a small excited kid, with my coffee machine bagged up and in my hand, I boarded a tram home and had this nice looking guy beckoning to me, wanting me to sit with him.  Gert and I had managed, quite by chance, to find the same tram to ride home.

Well yes, he did have to suffer quite some Chitter-Chatter by Di on the way home.

I didn’t dare caffeinate myself after dinner.  Chitter chatter on a tram after work is one thing, he can do it … just.  Chitter-chatter at 3am, of the over-caffeinated kind, is something else.  I had my first little espresso this morning and it was good.

Lately, life has been all about intensely good friends and meeting lovely people.  Thanks guys.

Anyway, you see it, yesterday was a very good day…

 

Cafe Stanny, Antwerp

I had passed by Cafe Stanny on the train as I travelled to and from Brussels city, and I have slid by it via the Number 8 tram so many times but I had never quite managed to step off and visit its red and welcoming friendliness.

Today, I had no destination in mind, I was simply escaping a really bad day and so there was nothing to lose as I climbed off Tram 8 with my small travelling laptop.

Cafe Stanny’s lunch menu is diverse enough to offer something for everyone, with soups, breads with a range of fillings and things I can’t quite remember. I chose a most divine bacon and onion omlette for lunch and it came with a soft brown heavily-grained bread that was delicious.

The music indicates good taste (an important criteria when wandering, laptop in hand). The atmosphere, now that it is summer, is open door with benches both inside and out. The staff were friendly and the decor lovely - appealing and a tug on the strings of memory for this kiwi so far from home. A deep blue bar/counter with stools, and stools along the high tables at the two large windows in the front.

Back in winter, I remember being attracted to the warmth of Cafe Stanny’s red exterior and the promise of its fogged up windows, clients bicycles piled up outside calling to me in but I was rushing, always rushing through that stretch of the city between here and there, I never made time to detour a little.

Cafe Stanny’s is lovely, a new favourite of mine but come see for yourself.

It’s at Stanleystraat 1, 2018 Antwerpen, located on the Tram 8 line and close to Berchem Railway Station ... seen from the train on the left side as you pull into the station (I think).
You can’t miss the red.