Antwerp, Anvers, Antwerpen...where the F are we, or the home of some kinda naked

We had a really good day here in Belgium, manifold readers, and I'll try to recapture some of it.

After being up late (for old people -- the bar two doors down was up till after 3 doing what one does in a bar till 3, loudly), we slept in and got a "late" start.

The place around the corner, Sil'eau (you figure it out), is a breakfast and lunch place with good reviews on Yelp. Which is to say, who knows? But it turned out be pretty good.

But first, the title of today's bit: there was a discussion of Thursday's post (on Kambridge) & the geezer of the group wondered what NSFW meant.  The kid of the group explained, with the definition "you expect to open and get some kinda naked."  ROFL ensued.  How much naked is some kind?  It was decided that we were going to Rubenshaus where we expected to see quite a bit of "some kinda of naked."  :)

We start food porn today with this: Sil'eau's version of a latte --

And this was Meg's "extra" -- egg on toast with greens and avocado --

Then off to the city.  Our driver took us a circuituous route -- we decided its a center of a tourist city thing, maybe it's legit, maybe it's not -- and dropped us out front of the Rubens museum.

Rubens designed the building for the museum.  It has gold leather wallpaper on the walls and hand painted tiles on the walls in the kitchen looking space and around two fireplaces.  Yes, back in circa 1610 he was doing that (he was the most successful painter of his time, ICYMI). 

I'll drop a couple picks in that I took just to get a feel -- the collection has other local masters, including his friend Van Dyck, too -- of the place.  It's a great collection for an 8€. 

This is the best and most famous self portrait.

 This is Moses leaving Egypt -- with his Egyptian wife. !!! 

The garden.

There was a painting of the cathedral, so we decided to go there next.

It is a RC cathedral (Belgium is a Catholic country, unlike The Netherlands, from which this part separated in 1830). 

It has more paintings, and less statuary than we are used to seeing -- including a host of Rubens's.
Here's the most famous (sorry about the sunlight on it -- it was a hot sunny day).

Then we walked around a bit, visiting the Grand Platz nearby, which is a bit grander than the cathedral -- I can't find that picture (this will be a recurring theme here)...

But EH and I noticed the mashup of languages -- even the signs outside the restaurants wouldn't agree on what to call mussels -- moules, mosselen, or mousselen...and we weren't even trying to find things.  I think the local beer is oddly named: Trippel d'Anvers.  Anvers is the French name of the city...trippel is...Dutch/?  Of German language group descent.

On the later tour, the group was going in Flemish, yet most of them were from The Netherlands; one of my new friends told me that it was like a dialect of Dutch, with only a few words different. 

Then an afternoon gnosh --

K's mocha

We also had a selection of locally made chocolates.  That picture is stuck in the inter-ether.

As we stood there, I said "that's terrible...they not only serve dog, they have lots of different ways on the menu"

Another walk to a small house EH found -- not two blocks from the cathedral.  Built in 1533, it was one of 12 houses on the block built at the time, named after the apostles, this one was Matthew's. 

We had an address and Google maps.  We got to a T in the little street and the blue dot on the map was just past it.  Where was it?  Finally, we found a sign three doors back, but it appeared to be closed.  "What's Plan B?"  as we stood there wondering, a guy came out of a storage closet to have a cigarette.  So I asked him where the museum was...he said "here" and we followed him, through a tiny hallway (smaller than the one at our flat) and through the hallway of a bar, then pointed us up a circular stairway with a very low ceiling.  On the first floor, in a tiny room, were congregated three groups about to start a tour.   There was banter about coming in late, of speaking English -- the guide said his English was neither American nor British but Antwerpen...and the fellow next to me tried to take all of Michael's 50€ note for a 3€ price!  I asked where HE was from and he said "Holland."

The place was, by any modern, American standard tiny.  In the 1530s, eight people lived there.  Just off the kitchen, where we started, was the "living room", which included the parental bed.  There was a fireplace in both rooms.  We got a talk about 16th c potty habits -- there was a chamber pot, which had to be tossed out before 10 AM daily, and there was a basket of mussel shells.  You know what they used them for?  Yes, there was no toilet paper back then.  Ouch.  Oooo...it's good to live in contemporary society. 

On the next floor was bedroom two, with 2 beds, which held six people.  And they weren't no king-sized beds. 

There were live chickens (the family had a bunch back then), and a rabbit cage and beehive in the attic room.  All reached by essentially ladders.  It was hotter than heck (it was like 85 here today and very humid -- the average temperature for today is 65). 

On the way to the Hard Rock, we came across this obscurity, and Michael and I were both shocked!

B&M always get a souvenir in cities they visit with Hard Rocks (ironically, we got them one at the HR in Atlanta, which was inconveniently right across the street from our hotel; it still is laying, 7 months later, on our bedroom dresser)(strum a guitar).

EH decided she hadn't had mussels yet and we should have those for dinner.  After an abortive attempt to turn a building into a palace (it was...maybe...once...or a fake one...) and to find a souvenir for KG, we ended up in a place with a 4.5 rating on Yelp (we should know better, but is the strategy just to try the 2 star places and never be disappointed) we find that, though they have a picture of mussels on their Yelp page, they only serve them in July!!!  We had something else -- 4 of us had croquets.  This is my demi-demi -- one cheese, one shrimp. 

Okay, the picture of those has disappeared, too!!! 

We ate.  And came home. 

The taxi ride home was a different adventure -- his English, which he tried too hard to use, was rough.  He made sure we all got his card.  He made sure we knew where his favorite pub was.  He made sure we knew that Dutch and Flemish were different languages (a song came on the radio in Dutch...I pointed out to us all that one was finally in Flemish and he corrected me -- the song before it was early Michael Jackson!  Almost all the songs on the radio have been in English.  The driver yesterday said any Belgian rock star wouldn't record in Flemish, the money was in English.) . But we made it back.

We've sort of figured out the itinerary.  We leave for London around 2...via Brussels.  Rah rah. 

Good morrow, wise Reader.