Europe’s relaxed attitude toward nudity makes American travelers uncomfortable

by Laurel Miller on

While the image of a naked Rick Steves getting a rubdown in a Turkish bathhouse might be a bit TMI for many of us, the seasoned traveler, guidebook author, and travel show host makes some excellent points in a recent CNN article on Europe’s cultural tolerance for nudity.

According to Steves, who starts the piece with a flashback from a 1978 trip, “if you can leave your inhibitions at home, you can better appreciate some of the amazing experiences Europe has to offer.” Like, perhaps, ogling soapy boobies on a Belgian billboard, or admiring “sunbathing grandmothers [with] no tan lines,” in southern France. Or visiting museums.

Actually, Steves himself admits to being “uncomfortable” when confronted with all the nekkidness Europe has to offer, but he’s quick to point out that the trend is often rooted in a historical, sociological context. Turkish baths, for instance, were partly designed as a gathering place, where Muslim women could socialize, celebrate the birth of a child, or search for a suitable bride for their sons (and you think your mother-in-law is bad). And, he adds, he likes “a continent where the human body is considered a divine work of art worth admiring openly.” Cheers to that.

[Via Tribune Media Services]
[Photo credit: Flickr uses historic.brussels]

Around Antwerp – strange and wonderful sights

by Annie Scott on


Walking through Antwerp is like walking through a gothic storybook. The colors are bright, but rained-upon, the cobbled streets are haphazard with marble-tiled crosswalks and lined with buildings which seem to lean left and right. The river has a graffiti-emblazoned concrete walkway leading to a castle-esque fortress, and of course, De Kathedraal (below/next page) is an astonishing sight to behold. From museums (with secret gardens) to high fashion and art to super-concept shops and diamonds, there’s a lot to see and do in Antwerp, Belgium.

Yes, I was surprised.
%Gallery-90174%I must admit that, as a traveler, Antwerp was not really on my radar. Because of this, I was pleasantly taken off guard as I rode in on the train and saw the stunning architecture to my left and right — both the decorative columns on the railway itself and the city beyond, dotted with cupolas and giant clocks.

There’s fine dining at restaurants like Dome — Dome is actually a trio of one fine dining restaurant, a more relaxed but similarly elegant cafe with fish in the wall (below), and a bakery — and Le John, where if you’re nice to your host, he might give you a taste of some fine aged Guatemalan rum. Zuiderterras offers a solid menu with killed views of the river, and cheaper options include the market down by the student pavilion and any kind of Belgian frites or Belgian chocolates you can imagine.

Antwerp’s legendary diamond district features more than just great deals on ice: a Diamond Museum as well as Diamondland (my preference), where you can learn all about the diamond trade and how diamonds are made and cut. There’s also a zoo, a World Heritage Site printing museum, The Royal Museum of Fine Arts, which features 20 Rubens and Jacques-Louis David’s The Death of Marat, the De Koninck brewery and countless art galleries and monuments. East of the city center, right in the heart of the Diamond District is Central Station (below), a stunning building built between 1895 and 1905 with bling money. Walk south from the city center near the river and you’ll come upon a number of swingin’, happy clubs — keep walking and you’ll hit something that looks like the Sydney Opera House; it’s the courthouse.

All in all, I would say that Antwerp is a wonderful place for those who fall in love with old European cities. There is a strange, common juxtaposition of perfectly manicured buildings and those which look condemned or out of a Tim Burton movie, as well as all the gothic architecture and rainy romanticism a Europhile craves. I didn’t know what to expect from the city of Antwerp, but I now regard it as one of the most charming cities to which I’ve ever been.

My visit to Antwerp was sponsored by Tourism Antwerp and Cool Capitals, but the opinions expressed in the article are 100% my own.

Hotel Julien – Comfortable minimalism in Antwerp

by Annie Scott on


One of the great things about Antwerp is how walkable the city is. For that very reason, make sure you stay at a hotel that’s right in the middle of the action — such as Hotel Julien, which is located at Korte Nieuwstraat 24, just a hop and a skip from tons of local attractions including De Kathedraal and plenty of bars and restaurants, and about a 15 minute walk from the train station.

The mood at Hotel Julien is very Zen. The peaceful Flemish setting includes a comfortable sitting room with a fireplace, an uncomplicated courtyard and an unmistakably homey front desk lined with bookshelves. The service is friendly and helpful, but I found it strange that when I mentioned I’d be leaving for my flight in the early AM, they insisted on checking me out the night before. Nevertheless, the nice touches shone through, such as their readiness with maps and the slip detailing the next day’s weather left on my pillow at night.

The decor in the rooms is minimalist and chic with pale wood and whites and greys making the whole thing very light and cool feeling. Everything is hidden, from the TV to the toilet paper, which comes magically out of a side slot in the sink stand. Wifi and a delicious breakfast are included in your stay, and as with any city-center hotels, convenience stores are nearby in every direction if you’d rather not raid your minibar.

I’d recommend Hotel Julien to travelers who want things to be easy and relaxing at the hotel — but don’t intend to spend a lot of time there. The downstairs feels very much like a home, but the rooms, while lovely, offer very little to look at. Prices at Hotel Julien start at approximately $250 and include breakfast.
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My visit to Antwerp was sponsored by Tourism Antwerp and Cool Capitals, but the opinions expressed in the article are 100% my own.

Drinking before noon at a Belgian brewery

by Annie Scott on

On a recent trip to Antwerp, I toured the De Koninck brewery, then did some darn fine pre-noon drinking with a couple of Belgians to increase my knowledge about drinking in Belgium. You can do this too, albeit not before noon; just show up at the De Koninck brewery at 3:00 PM on a Saturday and you can get a tour and tasting for €7.50.

Brewery of the Hand

De Koninck was originally known as “Brewery of the Hand.” Back in the 1800s, one had to pay taxes to sell goods in Antwerp, and the hand was the universal symbol for “pay up.” There was an actual stone statue which looked like this hand at the border of Antwerp and Berchem.

Though the beer is now called The King (that’s what “De Koninck” means), the hand is still used as their logo. I rather like this. Instead of saying “I’m going to go for a beer,” I think I’ll start saying “I’m going to go pay the king.”

My tour guide at the brewery was none other than CEO Dominique Van Den Bogaert, a third generation brewer of De Koninck with a family history of brewing that goes back as far as five or six generations. The Bogaerts, who were brewing in Willebroek, helped reopen De Koninck after World War I.

Basically, Van Den Bogaert was born into beer.

He showed us around the charming brewery and talked some shop, but it was when we got to the bar next door that I started to learn what drinking in Belgium is all about.
%Gallery-89309%Drinking in Belgium

In Belgium, the bars never close. My hosts explained that this actually prevents public disorder. “There’s no ‘drink up’ time,” said Van Den Bogaert, adding that Belgium has less trouble with teen drinking than the United States, even though their drinking age begins at 16. And here’s an interesting, possibly related linguistic fact: Belgians don’t say drink a beer, they say taste a beer.

The word Belgians use to toast is Schol! — which is not a Flemish or French word. It’s actually an old Scandinavian word for skull. Viking warriors used to drink from the skulls of their defeated enemies as a (moderately uncivilized) way of celebrating their victories.

The proper thing to drink De Koninck from is not a skull (surprise). It’s a bolleke, or small ball; one of those fancy stemmed beer glasses (above right). There’s also the prinske (little prince, above left), a smaller-looking glass which was created for women so that they would look more ladylike. It holds the same amount of beer.

After drinking several De Konincks (the blond was my personal favorite — it’s light bodied and vibrant) from our bollekes and prinskes, we also had a traditional snack: meat and cheese from West Flanders. Both were served with mustard.

I think Unnecessary Mustard would be a good band name. (But not a great one.)

You’ll actually find a lot of bars without food in Antwerp, because smoking has been banned in establishments which serve food. However, as my host explained: “When in Belgium there is a law, there is always a way to avoid.” Bars where you can smoke will often allow you to bring food in — or even go as far as to serve you food outside and let you bring it in.

I think what I really learned at De Koninck was that Belgians are better at both brewing and drinking beer than most other countries. I have no idea why this is so, but it certainly makes Belgium all the more fun to visit.

Related:
* The 24 greatest cities in the world for drinking beer
* 15 more great cities for drinking beer
* The 25 greatest cities in the world for drinking wine
* The 20 greatest cities in the world for foodies

My visit to Antwerp was sponsored by Tourism Antwerp and Cool Capitals, but the opinions expressed in the article are 100% my own.

Worst travel mistakes of the 2000’s: Diplomatic Dipsticks

by Andrew Evans on


As we take time to count our travel sins of the past decade, I get all teary-eyed and indecisive. Where to begin? Couldn’t we just say “Iraq” and be done with it? And are we including food mistakes? ‘Cuz I got some real doozies: how about shrimp ceviche from a quaint Mexican beach cafe or fresh cut watermelon in India? Uh, those would be travel mistakes, no? But like, since we’re trying to refrain from the scatological (are we?), I choose to relate the following story of which I may or may not have played a small cameo role:

Once upon a time, there were two young men working in Brussels, preparing to embark on a business trip to poor, struggling, deprived Eastern Europe. Filled with kindness and goodwill, the two decided they would add a charitable purpose to their journey by driving across Europe in their vehicle–a beige, 1975 Mercedes with a good 250,000 km under her belt–and filling it with used office computers to give away to the lesser half of the digital divide.

in order to ease their way through the red tape of certain notorious Eastern European countries, the boss of the young men lent them a pair of expired diplomatic license plates, which (in Euro-capital Brussels) tends to grant you permission to do whatever you want: park on the sidewalk, speed a little bit, drive like a maniac, etc. So, the young men screwed on the two red license plates and set off on their grand cross-European adventure.

Feeling confident with their special diplomatic status, the young men parked in the city center of lovely Budapest for a break. They wandered about for hours sightseeing and upon returning, discovered not one, but TWO parking tickets fluttering from the car’s windshield wiper. As they wrung their hands with worry for this small misfortune, a Hungarian policeman approached them, pointing out the fresh car ticket and asking for additional information. Immediately after that, a second Hungarian policeman approached from the rear, pointing to the second parking ticket.The young men stood back and watched with awe as the two Hungarian policemen began to argue with each other. Both policeman had issued parking tickets, both wanted glory for punishing the foreign offenders and yet, upon closer look, they had in fact issued tickets to two different cars. The pair of diplomatic license plates were actually different number plates gleaned from different cars, and each cop had recorded only one of the numbers on the ticket. It was also soon revealed that both were expired plates. The young men could not respond to the policemen’s inquiry as to the actual registration number for their car. This led to the car getting towed to the outskirts of Budapest and a thorough search being conducted during which time, a dozen computers were found stashed in the backseat and trunk of the car.

To make a long story short, it was something of an international incident that required some top-level EU intervention to resolve. Anyone who traveled in Central and Eastern Europe in the early 2000s will remember the huge stolen car rackets that pervaded and made it nigh impossible to rent a car. After this little glitch, it was a miracle that the car was eventually released back to the young men and they were able to drive back to Brussels.

And so the moral of the story is: When in Budapest, make sure your back matches your front. Always.