for filled stomachs and loot.
The city with the mostest
gave us memories of the very richest.
The moment we stepped out of the railway station, this nice old man came up to offer us directions and give us suggestions on places worth visiting in the whole mish-mash of a city that is Antwerp. I could have sworn he was planted there by the tourism office, but he really was an angel.
Olv Kathedrale. Here, I wished I had a camera lens wide enough to photograph the entire entrance in its carved spendour.
The nice old man pointed us towards a market which according to him was "an exotic market", but all in all it was just a huge food-cum-chapalang market. Which of course is totally fine by us, since all we seem to do is look for flea markets everywhere we go. And food is probably at the top of our mutual priority list.
Quite possibly the best churros I've ever tasted. Or maybe I've been too deprived of you char kway (dough fritters) so everything that tastes like crisp fried dough is heaven in my eyes.
Told you we eat everywhere we go.
Does this look like we're in the middle of March? Al'Fresco dining is coming 2 whole months prematurely in Belgium, and it's not a bad thing too. More sunshine, less prozac, innit?
And it was St. Patrick's Day when we were there too. Which explains the men in skirts kilts and the droves of revellers decked out in green all ready for an overdose of Irish brew.
I think the only official touristy thing we did was visit Rubens' House. Ruben being Peter Paul Ruben, the most famous painter Belgium has ever known, and also the late owner of the house which is probably the most inadequate museum you could dish out 4Euros to visit. It must have taken us all of 20 minutes to complete a full walk-through.
And unsurprisingly, we ended our little day-trip with yet another food-related adventure. And this particular episode saw us tirelessly hunting down what the Use-It guide hailed as the best hot chocolate in the whole of Antwerp. The Witzli Poetzli cafe could really use a discernable sign instead of a nude-coloured plaque with beige wording spelling out its famed name.
The hot chocolate was nice, but not nearly the best I've tasted. Sprungli's in Zurich still owns my universe; but if Witzli Poetzli's version can make theboy smile like this, then it will have to do!
And of course we did not end our day there. Us being us, we just had to make a detour to Brussels in the faint hope of catching the Anderlecht game even though the website said they were totally sold out. Sometimes, good faith does see you a long way.
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