Sunday, April 29, 2007

The most beautiful cities in the world


Once, the story goes, at a bend in the River Schelde, lived a giant named Antigoon. He was in the habit of stopping ships on the river, and demanding extortionate tolls. If the ship's captain wouldn't pay, Antigoon cut one of his hands off. Then, one day, Silvius Brabo, a passing Roman warrior, thought this a rather unsatisfactory situation. So, he slew the giant, cut his hand off and threw it in the river.
In Dutch, the throwing of a hand' is hand-werpen' and this, they say, gave Antwerp its name.
This story is often recalled after dinner in Antwerp, when small, sweet hand-shaped biscuits, called handjes, or little hands' are passed around. Chocolate handjes are also available.
However, there are some who like to spoil good stories with facts, who say the name actually comes from aanwerp', a mound on the riverbank. The aanwerp was removed to build the present quayside; to see how the river looked before, walk along the quay to Hangar 15, a former dockside warehouse.
This could be the first call for first-time visitors. Normally, you might consult a guide-book or a street-plan; in Hangar 15, you'll find Miniatuurstad, where a team of dedicated model-makers have constructed a scale model of the city in painstaking detail.
So, a conducted tour' of the city and the port is possible, without leaving your seat! Other displays show Antwerp's development from an Iron Age settlement to today's busy port and trading centre.
If you're interested in history, Antwerp has plenty. If you're not into art galleries and museums, there's still something for you. The city is famed for its fashion houses and its vibrant nightlife. Antwerp knows how to party and, more importantly, knows how to party without annoying anyone else; here, fun isn't the sole prerogative of the young.
Walk anywhere in the city centre, and you'll see and hear entertainment. Buskers are almost everywhere. I only heard one bad busker in Antwerp, outside the house of artist Peter Paul Rubens. But, when I entered the courtyard garden, his discordant bawling was left in the street, and a blackbird sang.

by Keith K.
Antwerp, Belgium

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