Antwerp

For some reason, I have this notion that Antwerp is a big, Europeanish city with famous things and a rich history, somewhat on the same level as Athens or London or Moscow. For reals, it is the center of the diamond industry, has a huge black hat Chasidic community, was home to Peter Paul Rubens, and boasts the second largest port in Europe. (Rotterdam in the Nederlands is the first.) HOWEVER, no one sets their wall clock to "Antwerp" time. But I just can't shake the feeling that I am in Paris. (I have never been to Paris.)

We walked around the center of Antwerp, past a lot of diamond stores, past two more Black Hats, past the Vlaamse Fritas stand Jabba Dabba Doo that no longer exists. (Sad Day.) We lunch (Parisians "lunch" as a verb) at a fantastic health food restaurant. I get a delicious, creamy pumpkin soup and my mom gets a "delicious" leek soup.

We don't actually do much in Antwerp, because it is Monday and that is the day all of the museums are closed. All of the famous art and architecture museums I was so looking forward to seeing. Instead we see another Rubens-filled cathedral, the central market square which is lined with medieval and Gothic guild houses, and lots of tourists.

The train station is lovely, a beautiful Art Deco / Classical colorful facade. Also, our train conductor has a very serious mullet, that is pretty fucking awesome. On our way to Rotterdam, we woefully outnumber the seats on the train. I sit on the floor and gaze at the American guy sitting on his suitcase right next to me. For pretty much the whole time.

omigod, I am exhausted.