I spent the weekend in Antwerp at Chez Di and Gert, also known as Kiwi Villa. E-Grrrl and I arrived on an early train from Brussels, and we traveled into the heart of the city with Di and Little Miss Two, her granddaughter, for the "foreigners' market," so-called because of all the international vendors.

Di bought spring onions, fresh mushrooms, ripe tomatoes, crusty bread and a hunk of brie while I purchased strawberries and a giant bouquet of sunflowers. After lunch at her apartment, we headed back into the city for a theater program being given by the integration office. Di has worked for the office for quite some time now, photographing immigrants and their businesses, capturing a bit of what makes Antwerp's culture so diverse and colorful.

I had the pleasure of meeting Peter at the theater. He caught me in the act of pinning Di's business cards onto a display of her photographs in the lobby. (Shy Di is a humble New Zealander and relies on her brash American PR consultant to publicize her fledgling business and promote her talent.)

After meeting Peter for the first time, Di and I are convinced he made a deal with the Devil long ago or drank from some secret fountain of youth. My first impression was that he was at least ten years younger than me, when in fact, he's just a bit older. Sigh. Those Belgians men age well. : D

It's not fair. I could be BITTER about it, but Peter was so friendly and amusing, I won't hold his youthful appearance against him. During what was a rather dull program for those of us who don't speak a word of Dutch, Peter, a native of Antwerp, occasionally translated, laughed at my jokes, and assured me that even if I understood every word spoken, I'd still be bored by the city officials being interviewed on stage.  (Not that he has strong opinions about local politics or anything.  ; D)

I'm hoping that even though he had to endure not just one but TWO free hugs from this silly American Grrrl, he'll still be willing to get together again some time.

We got caught in a torrential downpour on the way back to Di's apartment where she fixed a stunning dinner of Persian chicken. When she said it was a "special occasion" meal, E-Grrrl and I high-fived each other since clearly we rated as "special occasion" people and we did indeed feel special. Thanks Di. 

Being a sophisticated woman of the world, I used my extensive knowledge of wine to purchase the perfect bottle of red for Di. Yes, after standing in front of a display for quite some time, I bought the bottle with the most attractive and intriguing label. This proved to be an effective tactic, as the wine was soft and smooth and better than good. California wine did me proud here in Europe.

We stayed up late because we were too tired to go to bed, and then on Sunday afternoon wandered through the sculpture park in Antwerp. I was stalked by some camera-crazed woman who acted like a papparazzi and caught photos of me in various compromising positions. I'm sure the photos will NEVER appear on this blog. Well at least not this minute. I have to give y'all something to look forward to later this week.

June 24, 2007