Antwerp...Meh.

Antwerp wasn't much of a thrill for me. I don't know why.

The museums were uninspired and the city was pleasant enough but not necessarily distinctive.

Although, in a way, it reminded me of Toronto: so multicultural, strong underground scene, and in the neighbourhood where I was staying, tons of Hasidic jews running around. So that was kind of cool.

The hostel I stayed at was fantastic though. It was really small and cozy, like staying at a friend's place. That was nice after so many big, comparatively impersonal operations.

The streets were fun to walk around, lots of cool little shops and interesting architecture:





I love how this fountain spouts out to the surrounding cobblestones instead of a pool:


Cool little candy shop with erotic chocolates like kama sutra and of course the requisite chocolate genitalia.


This little spot in the center of the city is a legal graffiti zone:





I was however, monumentally impressed with the chocolate (surprise, surprise).
And I got a sweet (no pun intended) deal on a perfect souvenir t-shirt.


With less external stimulation than I'd expected, I withdrew into my book, my journal and my thoughts. It was comforting to retreat for a little while. I thought a lot about the people in my life that really mean a lot to me.

In case there are moments in your day when you wonder where I am or what I might be up to:

* maybe I'm standing in line in a dutch mini-market buying that long-life crap that passes for milk here.

* maybe I'm sitting on a park bench listening to the myriad languages being spoken, chattered, sung and whispered.

* maybe I'm marveling at the beer selection and taking forever to decide, as usual.

* maybe I'm chatting with some Aussie chicks, Mexican guys or fellow Canadians at the hostel bar.

* maybe I'm between locales, zooming through towns and countrysides that, if I ever see them again, will never be the same.

* maybe I'm laughing, or maybe I'm somber and reflective.

* maybe I'm in a bookstore, judging books by their cover in hopes of finding the next literary work to affect me, shake me, soothe me.

* maybe I'm sitting in the corner of a crowd, alert and engrossed with people's displays and especially their subtle gestures when they think no one is looking.

* maybe I'm freakin' livid and for lack of someone to vent with, I just seethe on the inside until something cool distracts me.

* maybe I'm realizing that I'm comforted by the fact that a fellow Canadian asks if she can turn the "big light" off. If shared language provokes a sense of belonging, it goes double for slang and regional sayings.

* maybe I'm sleeping, dreaming about you at the exact moment you're thinking about me, and waking up wishing you were here.