The familly went for a day-trip to Antwerp today. The city is nicer than I had recalled. Not that my recollection of it wasn’t good; it just wasn’t quite as good as the reality.
We had lunch at this great little place called Kookaburra, which served up one of the best lasagnas I’ve eaten in years. Highly recommended.
It was bloody freezing — literally — and I’d forgotten to bring a jumper, so I was rather cold, to say the least. We walked around town, but didn’t really have time for major excursions, such as the zoo. That’s for another trip, I suppose.
By the end of the afternoon, the snow had started to come down in earnest, so we headed back to the car for the drive home, but not before we’d visited the spectacular Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekathedraal, which dominates Antwerp’s skyline.
Of course, no trip to Belgium is complete without loading up on epicurean chocolates, so we bought a couple of 500 g boxes at two different shops. Those will make our TV-filled evenings extra cosy.
The car feels like it’s truly christened now. It has more than 500 km on the clock and has been abroad (having been manufactured and shipped from Germany didn’t count). It performed admirably throughout. At the risk of sounding like one of those obnoxious men’s men — you know, the kind who bang on about male subjects like cars all the time — I do really like driving this thing. I’ve never owned anything so expensive or luxurious. I must admit: it is a very pleasant experience.