Watercolour by Amarie, the city of Antwerp
City life has always been familiar to me: I was born there, raised there, and drawn
to its old buildings—sometimes worn, yet always full of character. My family lived right in the centre between the police office, the city hall and the church of St Nicholas in perpetual renovation. Our house was facing the belfry, with its carillon diffusing folkloric melodies every 15 minutes Those ancient streets
and stones were both my shelter and my horizon. The steeples
and towers, the sound
of bells, the rumble of
traffic, the yellow trams ringing as
they came closer,
sometimes throwing sparks
from the rails,
the hungry pigeons circling over the squares, and
the constant stream of hurried
pedestrians all formed the backdrop of my daily life. The old post
office, the courthouse, the station, the many churches, the prestigious cathedral with the world-known triptych of the Van Eyck brothers and the bridges created
a sequence of memorable city views. The parks offered
quiet places of escape, where we walked our
pinscher, and the city garden, which my father shaped
like a little paradise, was the
kingdom of my childhood.
At its centre
stood an old weeping willow,
whose branches
held the swing that carried my wildest dreams. Nearby, a
small shelter protected us on rainy days, beside
the vegetable patch where picking ripe vegetables
delighted us with
their scents, colours, and
flavours.
Yet those places
of childhood disappeared
with the city’s rapid growth. Today, I recognise almost
nothing, and it seems
that the vivid,
picturesque landscapes of the past
have been erased by modernity.
Among the finest cities in Flanders, I would name Antwerp, Bruges, and Ghent. They too
have surely
changed over time, sometimes for
the better, sometimes for
the worse. I know Antwerp
only a little, but I am certain that, like my hometown, it contains
places of remarkable beauty. Curious
readers might turn to the book written
by our Prime Minister, whose many
anecdotes make it both lively and enjoyable.
Bruges, however, is more familiar to me. I shared many
happy moments there with my
children while they attended the
city’s leading
schools, where they
formed lasting
friendships. Bruges is a city
on a human
scale, threaded with canals
and filled with almost unreal
mediaeval vistas. Throughout the year, it welcomes
visitors from all over the
world who come to
admire the city
rightly known as the
Venice of the North.
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