scrapheapstuart3

I have a friend who’s hooked on adventures in far flung countries. His trips are full-on and crammed with exciting, unpredictable experiences. He journeys way out of your average person’s comfort zone. Over a coffee he explained that he actually comes home for a holiday. For him, being at home in his familiar routines is like being on a restful holiday, a peaceful sojourn in between adrenaline-filled trips.

His differentiation between a “holiday” and an “adventure” fascinated me and got me thinking. When I go on holiday, I don’t regard it as an opportunity to rest or recharge my batteries. I have no interest in lying around on a sun lounge or a beach all day. I prefer to be stimulated by exploring new places, being surprised and potentially having experiences that I wouldn’t encounter in my everyday life. For me therefore, a change is as good as a rest. So maybe I too am seeking adventure, though one of a more sedate kind.

Belgium is only a short hop across the sea from Britain but it still has the capacity to surprise and excite because much of it is so different from my British norm. It might be one of the smallest countries in Europe but it consistently punches above its weight in terms of variety and interest. So Belgium was my wife Chris and I’s latest holiday, or was it an adventure? I’ll let you decide.

We flew into Amsterdam from Newcastle, our nearest major UK airport. Then we took a fast inter-city train out of the Netherlands, south east into neighbouring Belgium. Straight away we knew we were in the “low countries” which is the literal translation of “Netherlands.” The land is flat and low lying, and divided up into squares or polders by drainage channels. From the descending aeroplane window we had already spotted vivid bands of colour in the tulip fields below. The Belgians and the Dutch used to belong to one country ruled by Spain. After gaining their independence from the hated Spanish, they eventually split up into two separate nations, partly because of religious differences. Belgium was largely Catholic while the Netherlands was predominantly Protestant.

Belgium today is a intriguing mixture of Dutch and French. It is mostly flat ( except for the Ardennes in the south) and has lots and lots of bicycles. Every railway station we went to had massive bike sheds. It’s a linguistically confusing country. Flemish, a form of Dutch is spoken in the north, while Walloon, a form of French is the language of the south. Brussels, the capital, in the middle of the country, is multi-lingual which can lead to confusion. For instance if you wanted to get a train from Brussels to Mechelen, where we stayed, you also have to look out for signs to Malines, which is the French version of its name. The names on the train information boards alternate at regular intervals. To complicate things even further, part of Belgium even speaks German!

Belgium is famous for beer and chocolate, for Audrey Hepburn and Eddie Merckx ( multiple Tour de France winner), for Rubens and Van Gogh, for Gothic architecture and Art Nouveau. It’s famous for Brussels sprouts of course which I used to hate as a child. Brussels, the capital is often referred to as the capital of Europe as the EU has its headquarters there. The country was only officially created in 1830, and it was supposedly to protect Belgian neutrality that the British declared war on Germany in 1914.

This was my 5th visit but it was Chris’s first. Most people seem to just pass through on their to somewhere else. It’s funny that a country so close is so often taken for granted. A Belgian inter-city express picked us up at Amsterdam’s Schiphol airport. The train station is underground and the trains run through tunnels below the airport concourse. People descend to the platforms on escalators. Actually, we nearly missed our train because we forgot to put our watches forward an hour to get on to continental time. So instead of a leisurely hour and a quarter looking round the airport shops, we had a panicky 10 minute rush to platform 5. The train came in bang on time as they nearly always do in the Low Countries. We never had to worry about Belgian or Dutch delay-repay. We sped south to Rotterdam and then on across the border towards Antwerp. As we were now in the EU’s Schengen Zone of free movement, we never noticed when we crossed from the Netherlands into Belgium. There were no passport or security checks. So far, so good we thought but then, suddenly the train slid to a halt in the middle of the countryside. Everyone was mystified. After an announcement however, explained to us by a fellow passenger, all was revealed. Someone had been smoking in a toilet and set off the smoke alarm. This in turn had automatically stopped the train. The guilty loo was actually in our coach. 3 train managers descended and made a forced entry. I hope the guilty guy had time to pull up his pants before they all burst in!

We arrived half an hour late into Antwerp but luckily our local connecting train was on the adjoining platform so we still managed to catch it. It was a double decker train, something we don’t have in the UK. ( but unlike continental countries we do have double decker buses.) We were travelling on to Mechelen , a town of just under 90,000, halfway between Antwerp and Brussels. Half an hour later we arrived. Unlike on a package holiday there was no guide to greet us and take us to our accommodation and welcome drinks. We had to figure it all out for ourselves. Luckily I had been to Mechelen before and had a good guide book map, so I was able to navigate us to the sanctuary of our hotel after a brisk 10 minutes walk. Checking in was quick and simple as the receptionist spoke excellent English. It was a lot better than our limited French or non-existent Dutch. Our room was clean and comfortable but — shock, horror — had no kettle, tea bags or custard creams! But who cares? We were now on a foreign adventure, where difference and surprise were the order of the day.

The next morning we strolled into a medieval wonderland. Who need Disney? Although it is historical and picturesque, Mechelen still sits under the tourist radar and is relatively quiet and undiscovered. It makes for a more relaxing base than the busy capital of Brussels or the mass tourist mecca of Bruges. Prices are more reasonable too. The town centre of Mechelen is largely pedestrianised though you constantly have to watch out for speeding cyclists. It is arranged round a stunning, cobbled square, book-ended by a cathedral and the stadhuis or town hall. The Grote Markt is lined on 3 sides by 16th century or mock 16th century gabled buildings, all of them different. Old gabled buildings also line the surrounding streets. Even the replicas are over a century old. Former guildhouses or merchant houses, many of them have now been converted into smart boutiques or eating places. Their outdoor tables spill out into the street. Facing us as we walked towards the central square was the 14th century Alderman’s House, Mechelen’s first town hall, now turned into a tourist information centre. Here we learnt about the town’s glory years in the early 16th century, when it was briefly the capital of the Burgundian Empire. The town especially celebrates Empress Margaret of Austria who welcomed many artists and scholars, attracted by the pomp, ceremony and prestige of her court.

Mechelen, although modest in size, became the ecclesiastical capital of Belgium. It is sprinkled with fine, old churches and is dominated by the magnificent St Rombout’s Cathedral, with its soaring tower, built in the later 1500s. The latter is the tallest Gothic tower in the country at 97 metres, even though it was never fully completed. You can climb up its 535 difficult steps to go on a sky walk which offers 360 degree views, as far as Brussels and Antwerp on a clear day. Being increasingly nervous of heights we decided to give the climb a miss and stay safely at ground level. The 15th century Stadhuis is UNESCO listed. It comprises a former cloth hall and the arcaded Palace of the Great Council. A smartly dressed wedding party was gathering as we passed by. It was lovely strolling round the ancient square being transported back in time. The experience was enhanced by pretty tunes played every quarter of an hour on the cathedral’s carillon. This is a feature of any visit to Belgium. The tunes are played on a set of bells. of different sizes. St Rombout’s tower houses Belgium’s finest carillon, a 49 bell affair. Each bell plays a different note. Carillons are technically the world’s largest musical instruments and were originally used as time- keeping devices and to mark special occasions. The bells are triggered by the rotation of a large drum with metal pegs. The pegs pull wires attached to the bell’s clappers. The frequent, gentle tingling of the carillon adds to the magical atmosphere of the town centre.

Our “adventure” in Mechelen wasn’t adrenaline – filled but was full of delightful, little surprises as we strolled the quiet streets. We wandered into a couple of the churches and the cathedral itself, mainly Gothic affairs with high naves, classical pillars lining a tall nave, and ornate, gilded altars. A common feature of all of them is a massive, wood-carved pulpit. These feature saints, angels, cherubs, animals, birds and foliage. You name it, it’s there. They are over-the-top Baroque affairs from the 17th century. The wood carvers then were highly skilled and in great demand, as the Catholic church launched its counter-attack against the Protestant Reformation. There’s more of this extravagant church furniture in Belgium as it was/is the Catholic part of the Low Countries. The pulpit in Mechelen’s St Peter and St Paul Church has a particularly spectacular example. It’s a former Jesuit place of worship and at the time it was carved ( early 17th century) missionaries were spreading the Jesuit message all around the world. Thus the pulpit features a globe and human figures from all the known continents at that time. I spotted a native American with a feathered head-dress. Disturbingly, I also spotted a near naked African who was in chains. The carving was done when the African slave trade was in full swing and was supported by the church. Presumably they believed they were guiding “heathen savages” to Christian enlightenment. The church is beautiful if you can put aside this moral issue. It also features richly carved confessional boxes.

Another feature of old Belgian churches including the ones in Mechelen are large religious paintings, many of them completed several centuries ago. St Rombout’s Cathedral for instance has an Anthony van Dyck’s depiction of the Crucifixion, tucked away down a side aisle. He was Peter Paul Rubens’ star pupil back in the early 17th century and went on to become King James I’s chief court painter over in London. It’s a realistic, graphic affair with muscular bodies writhing in agony on their crosses ( the 2 thieves are also included) and distraught, tearful onlookers. 17th century religious masterpieces like this are not for the faint-hearted. Also in the cathedral is a series of very old paintings portraying the story of St Rombout himself. He came to Mechelen as a Christian missionary from Ireland ( or possibly Scotland) to convert the “heathens” and was murdered for his pains. As a penitence, the conscience- stricken locals, once converted, built this huge edifice in his honour. Christians, especially Roman Catholics, love a martyr and Mechelen has its very own.

The streets beyond the cathedral were very quiet. In fact, we often were the only people there. There were no tourist masses, follow the pink umbrella, queuing for a burger or an ice-cream or posing for selfies. We had the quiet lanes almost to ourselves. We strolled past 16th and 17th buildings undisturbed. One delight of Mechelen is its “secret” walled gardens. We came across 3 quite by chance. One is in the grounds of a grand 16th century house or palace, the Hof van Busleyden, now a museum. It had beautiful displays of tulips and irises. An information board told us that one problem they had back in the 1500s was bulb thieves sneaking in at night. Alright, it was a crime, but it illustrates how highly valued flowers were ( and still are) in the Low Countries. Our next enclosed garden was behind the cathedral and was a more informal affair with blossom trees and bushes, a grotto and a shrine to Mary in the corner. They are the Archbishop’s Palace gardens. Finally, we discovered a Renaissance garden with boxed hedges in the grounds of a tapestry restoration company — De Wit. This was originally the grounds of an abbey built by monks in 1484.

We popped in to Sint-Janskerk ( St John’s Church) to see another incredible wooden pulpit and a series of impressive paintings including a triptych ( 3 for the price of one) of The Adoration of the Magi by Rubens himself. There was nobody there and the caretaker lady seemed very surprised to see us when we wandered in. She was even more shocked when I told her we were from England.

In our meander we were heading for an area called the Groot Begijnhof or Large Beguinage. This too is a World Heritage site. The Begijnhofs or Beguinages ( many things in Belgium have at least 2 names) were communities of religious ladies who devoted their lives to worship, but did not actually take the vows to become nuns. Their charming complexes include a church and collections of quaint cottages, often arranged around a green and surrounded by a protective wall. There are a whole series of them spread across Belgium and the Netherlands. The one in Mechelen merges with the adjoining streets but it is still delightful wandering down its narrow lanes and in and out of little closes. When we were there many of the doorways were decorated with little bunches of fading daffodils and tete a tetes, a reminder that Easter had only just finished. One little house had a special plaque outside it and apparently is a place of pilgrimage. It was here that a visiting Pope stopped to use the toilet back I think in the 1980s. The residents must have been very surprised to find the white clad Pontiff knocking on their door. Its water is now considered sacred by some Catholic visitors.

It was a lovely first full day in Belgium. A quiet, pleasant stroll in the sunshine with little surprises strewn along the way. I suppose it counts as an adventure as we weregoing into the unknown and were pretty tired and foot-sore at the end. We flopped on to the outdoor chairs of a cafe opposite the art gallery and enjoyed a restful drink. We had seen lots of things we wouldn’t have seen at home and had remained constantly interested and stimulated. Our pace had been gentle as befits our age but it had still been a bit of a magical mystery tour which is what we like. However, we enjoyed our rest in the evening as we didn’t want to overdo things. Afterall we were on a holiday!