Antwerp: Chocolate, Waffles, Beer, Jazz, and Flashmobs

For a very long time, I have very much wanted to go to Belgium. My first plan involved going to an incredible bed and breakfast called La Balade des Gnomes, which is in Durbuy, Belgium. The entire bed & breakfast is chock-a-block full of fairy-tale themed rooms. Everything from 1001 Arabian Nights, to a gnome/fairy-themed room, it is firmly fixed on the list of things I must do before I die.

Here is a link to their website - sorry, it's only in Dutch or Flemish, but you can still look at the pictures of the rooms. I just think it would be SO COOL to stay there. So, well, hopefully I can do that someday in the future.

For now, on my budget, I decided to visit Antwerp with my friend Clement. It was a good weekend. Not everything went perfectly, but seeing Antwerp was really awesome.

I went with a set list of things I had to do and/or try while I was there. On that list were visiting a chocolate shop (a NICE one, not a poo-poo normal one like I could find in Ohio), eating authentic Belgian waffles, and french fries (which were supposed to be different in Belgium - they weren't. We'll cut that story short and save you the details), and having a good Belgian beer. It is significant that all of these things have to do with food. Belgium, you're delicious.

Upon arriving at the Central Station in Antwerp

The Central Station as seen from the outside. Majestic, no?

When we first arrived in Antwerp on Saturday, Clement and I hauled our stuff to the hotel we were staying at, and then we went for a walk to a big market in the northwest of the city.

At this market, a friend had told us we could buy some of the best authentic Belgian waffles to be had in Antwerp, at a little stand called "Waffles from Grandma (in Flemish, of course)." I think it was called, "Waffeltjes van Boppa," or something.

There were no Grandmas when we got there. But there was a long line of hungry, eager people, and two young folks making and flipping waffles as fast as their skinny arms could go. And the waffles....They had double chocolate - chocolate waffles with chocolate chips, Speculoos waffles (waffles made with peanut-butter-like paste made from gingerbread cookies), plain waffles, waffles with raisins, waffles with cinnamon and apple, and waffles with chocolate chips. We got our waffles (a selection of all of the above) warm and toasty, and went walking around, eating them and looking at the market in general. I absolutely LOVE markets. All kinds. I could just walk around a market for hours, considering buying this or that, just to try it. The best markets are the kinds that feature a lot of baked goods, cheese, sausage, home-made crafts, artwork, and little street-food stands. If I could have a request for my ideal heaven - it would be a giant street market. Mixed with Harry Potter. So, like, Diagon Alley on steroids with a bit of Mediterranean and Arabic Market thrown in for good measure. Also Hogwarts. Also the ability to fly. THAT would be awesome.

Sausages. They were pretty good. They had cool flavors - a really spicy one, one made with thyme, one made with blue cheese, one made with walnuts, etc. I liked all of them. Well, the one with blue cheese was a bit off. I just don't understand why you would eat cheese that is moldy. Purposefully moldy. It baffles me.

We walked around for a bit, munching waffles, and then decided we wanted to find something more substantial for actual lunch. I spotted this busy-looking Turkish stand, which was making, as fast as they could, flatbread wraps, with olives, grilled peppers, stuffed grapeleaves, feta, and honey. They. Looked. FANTASTIC. So, naturally, I got in line. Clement and I both bought a wrap, and we also got a chicken pocket thing, made with basmati rice and cumin, and wrapped in filo dough. We also got two steaming glasses of Turkish tea, which was like sweet mint and clove tea. The tea was also delicious.

I don't know how to describe to you how good that wrap was. Imagine warm flatbread, recently off the grill, with creamy feta, spicy olives and grilled peppers, with a sudden tang of sweetness from the honey - I've looked into it, and I can re-create it from places that sell the right ingredients on my street. It's on my to-do list, perhaps for next weekend.

After eating our delicious flatbread wraps, we went walking once again, this time to the end of the market, through the shopping district, and towards the large cathedral and the river that are some of the more structurally striking parts of Antwerp. We stumbled upon a chocolate shop (yes, a legitimately nice one, conveniently located in Napoleon's old kitchen) on our way, where we saw the following hilarious display:

Yeah, okay, it's in Dutch. But this is indeed a "Poop sack" of chocolate poo. WITH a roll of cheerfully colored toilet paper. Now, really. What could be better than THAT?

There was also, in the back room, a chocolate-making kitchen. Yum.

My face, watching chocolate be made. The delicious, delicious glory of chocolate.

The front chocolate shop. I ended up buying a little sampler (three chocolates), which included a chili chocolate, a praline chocolate with white chocolate glaze, and a peanut chocolate. They were very, very good.

My little box of chocolates!

We had a coffee in the courtyard of the chocolate shop, and resumed our wandering.

There was this cool statue underneath the cathedral in the main square of Antwerp - the man who built the cathedral was apparently well known as a famous builder (as I understand it).

The large, intricately carved front doors to the Antwerp Cathedral.

Kelli and Umbrella.

In a square with a beautiful statue and fountain - outside the municipal building.

A view of the cathedral from the "Green Square"

When we got down by the river there was A) A Tai-chi convention going on (I kid you not), and B) A Castle.

I don't know how well you can see it, but right above the main gateway, there is this little square plaque - it's from the 1200's, and is a woman-figure, supposedly symbolizing fertility. According to a nice leetle plaque by the entrance, women would stand under the archway, looking up at the plaque, asking for babies. You can rest assured, I did not linger underneath this thing.

Then we sort of stumbled on this very quiet, peaceful courtyard (not inside the castle but rather down the road from the castle).

It featured this, which I take to be the side of a church that must have burned down - there are burned timbers inside and around the wall. It reminded me of the place in Ever After, that the prince goes to think, where he meets Danielle after she's been whipped by her horrible step-mother, and she's wearing that pretty red dress, and she can't tell him who she is...I love that movie. I'm going to go watch it right now.

Movie has been watched. What a fantastic film. After our walking tour, we looked for a dinner spot. I was hankering for a burger. So we went to an Irish pub, but it was closed. In the end we decided on Italian. We even got a student discount. This is my creamy salmon pasta. Oi. So good.

We went back to the hotel for a brief respite, and then decided we wanted to go back out and see if we could find some live jazz music. Apparently Antwerp is a hotbed for jazz. Who knew? We did eventually find some live jazz, but it was really terrible, I'm afraid to say. It was a jazz band made up of what looked like high school students (they were certainly beard-less), playing sort of "Look-at-me-I-am-so-awesome-I-play-jazz-and-I'm-only-16" kind of jazz. In other words, we didn't stay too terribly long. We had a few drinks (some delicious dark Belgian abbey ales and a disgusting raspberry-flavored beer that I immediately regretted ordering) and then we went on our way back to the hotel.

On Sunday, we woke up, had a tasty breakfast, and decided to go walking towards the central station, to rent bikes. It was at the Central Station (capitalized? Not capitalized? A mixture?) that I discovered something truly profound. 

It's me! Or half of me. I have been cut in half and can be found in the middle bottom of this photo.

Inside the main entrance of the central Station (see what I did there?) - it's quite grand, yes??

Grand stairs.

Grand facade at top of stairs.

Grand Kelli-on-stairs.

Now, if any of these pictures are sort of tickling at the back of your brain, and you can't quite figure out why, I have something wonderful to share with you, and I literally almost peed my pants when I realized where I was standing.

Here is the wonderful thing. It is a Youtube video:

Now, A) Isn't that AWESOME? and B) Isn't it so cool that I got to go where this was organized?! Ahh, nerd-heaven. After my freak-out moment, we finally went and got bikes, for ease of cruising and distance-covering.

Nize umbrella.

Naturally, about five minutes after we hopped on the bikes, we found a new, different market in the same place where the one we went to on Saturday was. But this one was bigger, and had a whoooole bunch more stands and stalls. Including this one, which was selling about 10,000 types of birds - in boxes, cages, and bins. I've never seen so many birds in such a small area before. It was kind of sad.

We walked on, out of the market. It started raining, which was really extra lame. In the downpour, however, we found this Buddhist Stupa-like statue, randomly:

 And then I decided I needed some tasty hot things to drink, so we went to this cool looking pub/cafe, and sat in this balcony/overhang area, watching all the people being happy below:

 And I got this amazing, delicious, incredible Chai Latte. Now, a chai latte is most definitely not something I allow myself to have on a regular basis. But I was on vacation, and on the rainy afternoon that it was...It was perfect. The perfect drink. It was hot, and spicy, and creamy. Mmm. And then, when I was halfway done, I was inspired to document this wonderful drink for everyone, so I took this terrible dark picture of it. Looks appetizing now, right?!

When we left the cafe, the rain had stopped, and the sun had come out, which I take as a sign from God that we were supposed to get a delicious Chai Latte. Right? Right.

Then, if you can believe it, we found yet another Sunday market. This one was full of antiques. So I browsed, and bought Rachel's aunt some post-cards with writing on them, from the early 1900's (she collects written, stamped, antique post-cards, which I actually think is a nifty hobby). I'll be sending those along to Rachel as soon as I remember to bring them with me to the post office.

We wandered up the, apparently, only street that has shops open on Sunday, and had a good time mingling with the crowds and looking into some of the more unusual shops. I bought myself a totally awesome birthday present that will make an appearance at Jonathan's graduation. Hooray!

Sunday night we went and saw the Avengers, which, while a bit loose on plot, was exciting in that it combined numerous favorite superheroes into one film. And it was funny - laugh out loud funny in several instances, with all the Belgians giving me weird sidelong looks, like, "Who in the blazes is this crazy chick who keeps laughing like a dying horse?"

Monday Clement and I split up - him to go look at historical things, and me to go, I admit it, shopping, at Forever XXI. Look. They don't HAVE Forever XXI in the Netherlands. And I LOVE Forever XXI. So I bought myself a belt and a pair of earrings, and wandered around a wee bit more, before heading back to Utrecht. On my way out, in a sheer fit of "I'm leaving the land of chocolate!!" I bought a GIANT rice-krispie treat, except it didn't have marshmallows holding it together, it had dark Belgian chocolate. It was...amazing. I should make some when I come back to the states and give them away as like, house-warming gifts or something. They were like small bricks of chocolate and rice krispie. In other words, it was like eating a piece of heaven.

One of the last things I saw before leaving was this adorable family, playing music and singing as street performers. It reminded me of the Lupas-von-Trapps, so I decided to snap some pics.

Anyone want to inform what in the blazes this thing is? Anyone?

When I got back to Utrecht, Queen's Day, the day celebrating the Queen and her Queenliness, was in full-swing on my street, so I nabbed some excellent Moroccan street food, got an adorable black sweater for a steal, and a pair of awesome black pumps for 5 euro, which is insane. I was thrilled.

Note: Queen's Day is like one giant garage sale. Everyone in the country goes orange-crazy (The ruling royal family is of The House of Oranje (Orange)), there's a crap-ton of drinking, and everyone is allowed to sell anything, just for one day, practically anywhere. In Utrecht, this manifests as a massive overnight market, that goes from Sunday night till early Monday morning - and, on Monday, tons of other, smaller markets that pop up just about everywhere. Basically: It's a little paradise for Kelli. And would be for Kelli's mom and Kelli's sister, too, I imagine. I missed the overnight market, but I was glad to get back for some of the day market activities.

And that is all for the story of Antwerp, methinks. Till next time, readers! I'm not quite sure what the next post will be about - I imagine a compilation of my birthday, going to Keukenhof, the giant tulip garden, etc. Many beautiful pictures to come! Cheers!

Clotted Cream and a Dutch Tire

On my last day (it was a Monday) in London, I decided to do something...out of the ordinary. I had a little extra money left, a fair amount of time, and I really, really wanted to have a classic British Afternoon Tea.

So, first, I took a walk. I decided to go to Harrods, the giant, famous department store.

It was overwhelming. For one, it's like a giant burrow in there, with high ceilings and a confusing layout. For two, there were about 6,000 options for everything. Everything. From chocolate to shoes. It was incredible. So, I bought myself a chocolate.

It was, I think needless to say, very, very good. Then I wandered to the baking area (notice that I went to the department store and spent the entire time looking at the food areas?).

I bought myself a loaf of honey walnut apricot bread - it sounded a lot better than it tasted. It was dry and a bit burnt. I will attempt to make it myself sometime, and it will be much better, I think. On a side note, I tried something for breakfast in London that I've never tried before - it was a muffin-scone looking thing, and it had hot apricot preserves inside. It was crusted with sugar. It was incredible. I have no idea what they're called, but wow.

After touring Harrods, I went to Hyde Park, ate a tasty sandwich, and watched people running by, adamantly hoping one of them would be famous British actor, and trip in front of me, and then we could have this great moment where I helped him up, and we talked for a bit. You know. Because that happens all the time.

Then I wandered over the Lanesborough Hotel, made reservations for an Afternoon Tea, and rushed home to get a decent outfit for tea on. By the way, the Lanesborough is THE nicest place you can go in London to get afternoon tea. I mean, we're talking, men in tails at the front doors, with top hats, opening the doors for you, asking if they can help you with anything, etc. I was intimidated. And then I was like, "Ohyesthisisglorious."

I got changed (into a cute blue with white polka dots dress), and went and sat in Hyde Park, which is right across from the Lanesborough

 Then, I went and had tea. It was a singular experience, to be sure. I swear, there were at least four people assigned to me. And, as I was the first person to arrive for tea that afternoon (NOT a singular occurrence) they sort of hovered for the first fifteen minutes of my tea. I wish I could have taken pictures of everything I ate. But, I guess that's weird or something. In any case, I hardly dared to take my camera out just to get a picture of myself.

Hello! Kelli & Kindle. A match made in Heaven.

Here are some of the incredible things I ate:

Several pots - I would say at least three - of lemongrass and ginger tea. I mean, the place boasts employing the most noted tea sommelier in all of England.The tea was incredible. And my cup was constantly full, thanks to the hovering men pouring me my tea.

Little sandwiches - with red onion and grape, grilled chicken with cumin, cucumber and cream cheese - all delicious

A light caramel raspberry "palate-cleanser" - it was a sort of light cream thing, served in a wee little glass.

Two small cakes - one white chocolate with lavender, and one dark chocolate with Belgian chocolate.

Pastries - a cherry covered in chocolate, on a wafer thing caramel crisp, for instance.

Two scones and two biscuits with an orange glaze, clotted cream, raspberry preserves, and lemon curd.

It was a lot of food for just one person. But I packed it in. And by the end of the tea, I was literally in pain from all the food. But it was the good kind of pain, where you think, "If I could eat this forever and not get fat/full - YES."

So, that was my traditional Afternoon Tea in London. It was a really, really excellent way to end my time in the U.K.

I took the bus back to Utrecht at 10 that night - it was a much better, I will say, but still. It is murder to take a bus overnight with multiple stops/wake-up points along the way. Phew.

Now, about my bike. First, she had to get a new chain, because, somehow miraculously, her chain was way too long, and make a horrible clanky, whirring, crunchy sound every time I tried to ride the bike. I say "miraculously" because it only started after I got back from Christmas. What, was she hiding an extra piece of her chain before Christmas? I just don't understand it. But there you go, I had to shell out 20 euro to get a new, shorter, silent chain. Once I had it, though, I was much happier. It's so awkward to get stared at around the city because your bike makes a bad noise. Well, a worse noise than most. In a country where there are two bikes for every person, even the babies, there are a lot of bikes that make scary, sick-sounding noises.

In any case, the chain got fixed, and I breathed a sigh of relief at my new, happy bike. Naturally, days later, I noticed my tire getting flat. I figured it just needed air. So, full of trepidation, I took it to the basement bike-park area at the hospital, where they have a super fast bike pump. Unfortunately,  the super-fast-bike-pump is next to the Nasty-Nazi-of-Bike-Repair, also known as the mechanic who runs the bike shop in the basement of the hospital. He is classically, infamously mean to anyone who doesn't have a brand-new bike, which is like, everyone, because if you have a nice bike, it basically only means your bike will get stolen faster.

So Mr. Bike Nazi is fixing a bike, and I go down and start to try and put air in my tire. I know my tire is complicated...but I had no idea how complicated.

A normal bike tire, if you will imagine with me for a moment, has a little valve for pumping air into the tube inside the tire. This little valve is round, and has a little black cap. You unscrew the cap, and stick your pump on the metal bit, and pump. All is well.

My tire did not have a nice little valve like this. Oh, sure, the front tire did. But the back tire had this funky-looking little valve that tapered to a point. No black cap. Just a little cone-looking stick of metal coming out of my tire.

So, I wiggle it. I untwist it a bit, and air starts rushing out of my tire. I immediately screw it back on. However, my instincts were not quick enough. Now, I have a completely flat tire, and a mysterious metal tube with which I am somehow supposed to fill it.

People walk by. One girl tries to help me and starts furiously pumping the tire, stops, feels the (still flat) tire, and says, "Yep! I think it's full now." I thank her for her completely useless and also idiotic help.

I am quickly coming to a sinking realization. I do not know how to fill my damn bike tire. And I'm going to have to ask the Bike Nazi for help.

Damn.

I walk into his shop area, and say, "Hi, can you help me, I just need you to show me how to fill my tire. I'm so sorry, I know it's so stupid, but I just need like, two minutes of your time." Predictably, he turns around slowly, and gives me this hard look like, "Jesus. Why do I have to work with a seething mass of idiots and incompetents?"

"Look," he says. "If I just took "a couple of minutes" for everyone who comes into this shop with a problem, I would be broke. Maybe you just need to fill your tire. But maybe something is wrong with your bike. I need to keep it here overnight, and you need to pick it up by noon tomorrow. When you come back tomorrow, if I fix it, I can show you what I did."

Well, folks, guess what. I'm not leaving my bike with this man, and hoping that I can get it back tomorrow, for some insane amount of money, when all I really need is for someone to show me how to fill my stupid tire. I thank him for his time, and tell him I will think about it. Right. I will think about what an idiot he is the whole time I'm riding my bike (on a flat tire) to the bike shop I actually like going to in the city.

Well, I did manage to get my bike to the bike shop - it's called Fietspunt (Bike Point) - in the city.I made it with a combination of biking and walking, and it didn't take quite as long as I thought it would, though I was tremendously worried about hurting my bike the whole time. I went into the shop, and the owner, a nice, Dutch/maybe Turkish guy, who doesn't really speak English, came over and looked at my bike. I said, in Dutch, "Look, I just need to learn how to fill the tire. Please, please just help me." He smiled at me, and looked at the tire. "Okay. I will show you, and do it once for you, and then you do it for yourself in the future, yes?" I was so grateful, I almost fell over with thanks. He flipped my bike quickly over, rotated the tire to the valve, and looked at it. He got out a little pair of pliers, and said: "Okay, so there are two parts to this valve. The bottom part screws the valve into the tube. This top part here (he points to a miniscule little round metal piece at the tip of my cone-like valve) is what you unscrew to pump up the bike. (He unscrews the miniscule top metal bit). "You push on it (He pushes), and air comes out. In your case, you want to put the pump on (He puts a pump on over the now unscrewed miniscule metal bit), and then push down. This opens the valve for the bike."

He filled up my tire. I would say the whole interaction took about five minutes. He didn't charge me, he just smiled and said to keep the tire full.

He has become my hero. Every time something goes wrong with my bike nowadays, I immediately take it to his shop. He's always fair, he always gives me a good price, and he's always calm and nice. It's amazing, compared to Basement Bike Nazi McSillyPants.

It turns out I was unscrewing the bottom metal piece - the one that holds the valve into the tube - to try and fill my bike. Which was why it wasn't filling, just deflating. It was like I was taking the entire valve out of the tube and then trying to blow into a giant hole. Yeah, well. Now I know better, huh!?

Here is a lovely instructional video about Schrader versus Presta valves. A normal bike/car tire has a Schrader valve. My bike tire had a Presta valve. Who knew?! Who knew. The Dutch. This is going on a long list of the things that have baffled me about this land.

This post will, hopefully, be quickly followed by another, about Antwerp, and then one about the Keukenhof, and then one about this weekend, during which I went to an old-fashioned sea-side town called Volendam, and saw a ton of windmills/clog making at a place called Zaanse Schans. Tot dan, mijn lieves!

I am (happily) in the process of putting together a new blog post - I promise! I have done several exciting things recently, and I still have to tell you about my last day in London (mostly about my epic tea party), and pumping my Dutch tire, which was an adventure in and of itself, rest assured.

I have been to Antwerp:

They make chocolate in Belgium. Perhaps you've heard? Also beer. Also waffles.

I had my birthday:

It was a really good cake. Unfortunately, I sacrificed a toe to make it.

While making my birthday cake, I dropped a giant metal pot on my toe (warning, mildly yecky images!):

And then I went and saw some tulips. The tulips were much, much prettier than my mangled foot.

"Oh! I know! I will hide my toe in this ridiculously large wooden shoe thingees! That are clearly here for tourists to take pictures in!"

In the most recent and important news (I will talk about this in more detail later) I have decided to stay in the Netherlands for an extra month, till the end of June. It was a really, really tough decision, but it is to finish my data analysis. We will see if that goal actually gets accomplished, but I have the funding, and I've arranged all the details. Till the end of June then, eh?! Then I will have lived in the Netherlands for over 10 months. And that is not a short amount of time, my friends.

I wonder if it will be hard to re-integrate back into America. New adventures, new adventures. I'm glad I'm coming back in the summer, when people tend to be more free, and the weather is not so dreary.

I am excited to tell you about many things, including all of the adventures listed above! Till later, my friends!