Dear Readers, the Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp is the largest Gothic building in Benelux, and so today, our 25th wedding anniversary, we decided to go and investigate. Napoleon referred to the inside of the spire as being like lace, and the interior of the cathedral has an ethereal quality which is very uplifting.

The building of the cathedral started in 1325, and although the first stage of construction finished in 1521, it was never truly finished. The cathedral was supposed to have two towers of equal height, but one only got up to the third ‘storey’, where it has remained.

The big draw for many people is the art: there are a number of paintings by Peter Paul Rubens, which have a muscular physicality which makes them both impressive and difficult to look at.

The Descent From the Cross by Peter Paul Rubens (1612-1614)

This was an interesting piece, however…it shows the artist, Belgian sculptor Jan Fabre, at lifesize, balancing a cross on his hand. It was chosen by parish priest Bart Paepan, and is the first new piece of art installed in the Cathedral since 1924. Here’s what Paepan had to say:

“A man bears an enormous wooden cross on his right-hand palm. He is not a prophet, nor an apostle, a martyr, or a saint. He is someone who does what we invite every visitor of the cathedral to do, regardless of his background or his convictions. Take the cross in your hands, a token of the God that is celebrated here, a token of his love for the whole of humankind, a token of the engagement that he asks from all his followers. Take up the cross and balance it. Perhaps you will not succeed in holding it upright. Perhaps it is too heavy or too difficult. Perhaps you should try again later. Perhaps you don’t like it. Just let it down then. Who knows—you may succeed and feel right. Then it could be that you have found a goal and a meaning in your life.” (from here)

The Man Who Bears the Cross by Jan Fabre (1958 – ) Photo from https://www.dekathedraal.be/en/man-who-bears-cross

Another extraordinary feature was this pulpit, carved in wood by Michiel Van der Voort the Elder in 1713. At the top, an angel is announcing the word of God, while birds, cherubs, fruit and leaves decorate the rest of the carving. It came originally from the Abbey of St Bernardus in Hemiksem, a province close to the City of Antwerp, and includes carvings of the four apostles.

What an extraordinary place! And its peace and serenity were just the thing, after one of ‘those nights’. In succession I was awoken by:

• A bit of ‘urban vibrance’ aka some drunken students singing in the street
• A delivery of some building materials at circa 2 a.m
• A tom cat serenading his beloved
• A very aggravated blackbird
• Waste being picked up at circa 4 a.m.
• The builders on the adjacent hotel extension starting work at 7 a.m.

It seems a bit strange that it was all so busy on an innocent Monday night, but there we go…no doubt I’ll sleep like a log tonigh!

Well, Readers, after seeing Meerkats in the wild in South Africa just over a week ago, here they are again in Antwerp Zoo, enjoying the sunshine with minimal risk of being eaten by jackals or eagles. The Zoo is a very leafy spot right next to the Central Station, and I was impressed by the size of some of the London Plane trees.

The cafe is right opposite the Flamingoes, who have had two chicks this year…

And then there were some Markhor, mountain sheep from the Himalayas and the national animal of Pakistan. What a wise old face!

I suspect that, much as at London Zoo, Antwerp Zoo struggles with some of its architectural heritage, such as the extraordinary Egyptian pavilion. It was founded in 1843, and the pavilioin was built in 1856. I’m never quite sure how I feel about zoos, but there are lots of bright and airy outdoor spaces here, and I suspect that there has been a real effort to make the most of a smallish urban site.

But the big new aviary, which I would say is twice the size of the Snowdon Aviary in London, feels like a huge success, with a wide range of birds flying around, nesting and exhibiting natural behaviours, and sparrows even breaking in for a bath.

When we left the zoo, we headed back to Central Station, to have a proper look. Blimey.

It’s more like a cathedral than a train station.

The overall effect was somewhat marred by this, but it’s nice to have somewhere to get a sandwich I suppose…

The very helpful man in Tourist Information told us that the marble used in the station is Belgian marble, which doesn’t exist any more, possibly because it was all used here. It’s very fine indeed…

And here is a photo from the outside…

Photo by By Fred Romero from Paris, France – Antwerpen – Station Antwerpen-Centraal, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=76862517

We hadn’t had the best impression of the station as when we arrived on Saturday, one of the up escalators was broken, which meant we had to hump our suitcases up three steep flights of stairs. I wasn’t much help, what with my walking stick and all, so John carried both of them, and a lovely middle-aged lady offered to help John carry them up which was kind but not good for the ego. Goodness knows how someone with a pram would have coped, as the lift was out as well. Never mind, this is a truly spectacular spot, well worth a visit even if you don’t have a train to catch.

And tomorrow we may well visit the real cathedral, seen here on the right….

Dear Readers, about 10 years ago I visited Antwerp with my husband. On the day we arrived, we went to visit the Scheepjes Museum – not, as I hoped, a museum full of sheep, but one that was about the maritime history of the city. We were both a bit tired, and so we decided to have a coffee and a rest instead. Alas, when we went back the next day, the Scheepjes Museum was closed. For five years.

Well, it’s our 25th Wedding Anniversary on Tuesday and so here we are, visiting the Scheepjes Museum. Only, it isn’t just about ships anymore. MAS (Museum an de Stroom)  is now about all aspects of Antwerp’s history, but it does have a whole floor (the sixth, since you ask) about Antwerp’s history as a port. And so off we went, but not without stopping to admire the building itself.

The building is based on the old warehouses that are typical of the dockland site, but each ‘warehouse’ is stacked with a quarter turn, so the building is a spiral. You get great views from each floor, but there is an open panorama on the top, from which you can see the whole of Antwerp.

The facade is red Indian sandstone, and the symbol of Antwerp,  a hand, is repeated in each block.

Well, John said that the section on ‘Freight’ and the history of the Antwerp docks was worth the visit all on its own, so my work here is done. However, me being me I was very interested in Antwerp’s flora. They have several avenues of very skinny London Planes – not sure if it’s how they’ve been pruned, or because they’re relatively young.

And around by MAS there are lots of ‘wild’ flowers, which I suspect have been planted (or guerrilla gardened) amongst the cobblestones.

But then we decided to walk on for a bit. And look! This bridge opened to let a ship through, and very exciting it was too…

Incidentally, Antwerp has really embraced the bicycle/scooter since last time we were here – I was very struck by the number and variety of people on bikes when we visited Copenhagen a few years ago, but here in Antwerp it’s a lot more anarchic. The taxi rank at Centraal Station is next to the bike lane, for example, which makes getting into a cab with all your luggage rather more of an adventure than it needs to be. But of course, getting people out of their cars and onto a bike is a good thing. If only pedestrians didn’t so often feel at the bottom of the pecking order!

Anyhow, we’d come to have a look at the Port of Authority building, which was famously designed by Zaha Hadid. We couldn’t summon up the energy to get any closer today, but maybe later in the week.

The glass and concrete ‘bit’ towers over the traditional port authority building. It’s very striking, and I shall report back when I work out how to get a bit closer. Antwerp is clearly embracing modern architecture in an exciting way.

The Kattendijkdok, which we wandered down, has some very interesting buildings and gardens alongside – the old dock storage buildings have been turned into restaurants, cafes and artist studios.

All very atmospheric, and good for pollinators!

So, after a rainy start the skies have cleared, and we look well set for a good week. Let’s see what tomorrow brings….

The Bomber Oak (Woodland Trust/PA Media)

Dear Readers, the shortlist for 2026’s ‘Tree of the Year’ has just been announced, and this year it features trees which have survived great tribulation. I think my favourite is probably the ‘Bomber Oak’, which had its top taken off by a Lancaster Bomber in 1945. Then, decades later, a water company wanted to lay pipes in the field, destroying the tree in the process. Fortunately, the local community, including the farmer in whose field the tree lived, rallied in its defence, and the tree, now 180 years old, lives on.

The Bendy Tree, County Down (Photo Michael Cooper Photography)

Another favourite is the ‘Bendy Tree’. from County Down. No doubt about the prevailing wind direction on this seaside site! The tree is a native Wych Elm, which has also survived the ravages of Dutch Elm Disease. Furthermore, the tree was once part of a row of trees, planted to protect the main street from the wind – all the rest were cut down for redevelopment in the 1980s, so this tree really is a survivor, being at least 150 years old.

The Crowhurst Yew, Surrey (Photo by Lee Cooper)

The Crowhurst Yew is the oldest tree on the shortlist, being possibly up to 4000 years old. When a cannonball was found lodged in the tree in 1820, it was discovered that the tree was used for target practice by Oliver Cromwell’s troops during the Civil War. The tree was hollowed out to be used as a parish meeting room back in 1845, complete with a table, benches and the door that you can see in the photo. Then the roof of the ‘room’ collapsed following a storm during 1845, The tree, which stands in St George’s churchyard, is still going strong today, an amazing feat of survival.

Culmstock Church Tower Yew, Devon (Photo by Lee Cooper)

And my final favourite, the Culmstock Church Tower Yew. At least 200 years old, no one is completely sure how the Yew tree got to such a precarious position – some suggest that a seed was accidentally included in the mortar during roof repairs, whilst others think that the seed was brought by a bird. Another theory is that the seed was planted during the ‘topping out’ ceremony for the church in the 1300s – Yew was thought to guard against evil spirits. However the tree arrived, it has survived on the sand and lime mortar, with occasional watering, for an unspecified number of years, and was recently described as healthy and thriving.

So, what’s your favourite? There are lots more to choose from on the shortlist here.

https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/press-centre/2026/07/tree-of-the-year-shortlist-uk-toughest-trees/

Able Seaman Just Nuisance 

Dear Readers, while we were in Simonstown (close to Cape Town) our guide told us the story of Just Nuisance (1937-1944), the only dog to ever be enlisted in the Royal Navy. Just Nuisance was a Great Dane, who was originally owned by Benjamin Chaney, who worked for the United Services Institute. The dog became a great favourite with the naval ratings, and soon spent a lot of time following them back to their moorings and to the dockyard. His favourite resting place was the gangplank, which earned him his name ‘Just Nuisance’ – stepping over a huge dog who measured over six and a half  feet tall when standing on his back legs was presumably no easy feat.

Then Just Nuisance developed a liking for train travel – he would sometimes ride the train into Cape Town, a distance of 22 miles, in the search for his favourite sailors. The train company used to throw him off the train, but he’d just wait for the next one. I’m not sure what harm he was causing, but the train authorities got very agitated, to the point of threatening to have him euthanised. However, as an enlisted sailor he was entitled to free travel, and so he became ‘Able Seaman Just Nuisance’. His trade was listed as “Bonecrusher” and his religious affiliation as “Scrounger”, although this was later altered to the more charitable “Canine Divinity League (Anti-Vivisection)”.

Our guide told us that if Just Nuisance noticed that a bed in the barracks was empty, he would take the train into town, and look into each pub until he found the missing sailor. He would then ‘accompany’ him home. However, the dog’s service was not without blemish – he once lost a week’s bone ration for sleeping in the Petty Officer’s bed, and he had a great hatred of small dogs, killing several, and once destroying a complete official buffet table full of food in the process.

At one point, Just Nuisance was ‘married’ to another Great Dane, Adelinda, and the ‘couple’ had five puppies, two of which were auctioned off for the war effort.

Alas, in 1944 Just Nuisance developed a thrombosis, and had to be put to sleep. He was buried with full military honours, including a gun salute and the playing of ‘The Last Post’.

Just Nuisance’s Grave (Photo By Andrew massyn – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10116613)

What a remarkable dog, and what an amazing story. There’s a statue of Just Nuisance in the main square in Simonstown to this day. I imagine he brought a lot of fun, amusement and love into the lives of many who served in the Navy during the Second World War. How we love these tales of dogs and their almost-human behaviour! I sometimes think that they remind us of our best selves.

By Danie van der Merwe – https://www.flickr.com/photo_zoom.gne?id=357496321&size=l, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1654784

Well Readers, after a couple of decent night’s sleep I’m ready to launch myself back into London life. Except, wait! It’s my 25th Wedding Anniversary next week, so in less than 48 hours I’ll be on the Eurostar and heading for Antwerp via Brussels. In the meantime, though, here are a few thoughts on my South Africa trip.

• Don’t leave the Cape without at least trying Bobotie and Malva Pudding. Every restaurant and café seems to have a different version, but they’re all delicious. And Malva Pudding often comes with custard. What’s not to like? Bobotie varies in spicing from very mild to blimey, that’s hot. Personally, I love the combination of fruit and spice and savoury.
• When you get to the Cape of Good Hope, it can be a bit overwhelming, especially if you’ve spent weeks in the relative quiet of the Northern Cape. There are queues to take photos with the iconic ‘Cape of Good Hope’ sign, but there are also toilets and a gift shop and a restaurant. If you’re not desperate to say you’ve been there, I’d probably give it a miss.
• Don’t miss Lambert’s Bay though, the Cape Gannets are endlessly interesting, and views of them are excellent without causing them any stress.
• Kirstenbosch Gardens is every bit as magnificent as everybody says. We were there in the pouring rain and it was still stunning. The Protea garden is an absolute must.
• 
• It’s worth reading up a bit on the ecosystems and plants beforehand – there is so much variety here, and so many unique and unusual plants that it can be a bit overwhelming. Who knew that there were fields full of species Pelargoniums, or tiny rock plants peeping out from the quartz fields? This is a land full of wonders.
• I really appreciated how well done Boulders Bay, where the penguins are, was done. It’s the people who are restricted, rather than the penguins, and they’re clearly doing very well. It’s a full-on sensory experience – penguins are smelly little critters, and noisy to boot. All in all, well worth risking the crowds for.

• The people that we met were all hospitable, straightforward, kind and helpful. Our South African guides had the patience of saints as we forgot what they’d told us, got lost, tripped over (not me for once!) and generally all had our idiotic moments. I salute them all!
• As with anything in nature, nothing is guaranteed – some people on our trip were very disappointed that the vast fields of orange and yellow annual daisies, that feature in so many promotional posters for Namaqualand and the Western Cape, had already finished, due to the early rains. But there is an enormous amount to admire and investigate in this area, and if you have an open mind and a sense of curiosity, there will always be something to delight and amaze. Now I just need to cross-reference my plant photos and work out what on earth I’ve seen.

This week I needed to post a South African poem – and this work, by Kukuma Putuma, contains  so much. It really needs to be read out loud, to feel how the sound builds and recedes, much like the waves. You can hear Putuma read her poem here.

Water by Koleka Putuma

The memory of going to the beach every New Year’s eve
Is one I share with cousins and most people raised black
How the elders would forbid us from going in too deep
To giggle, to splash in our black tights and Shoprite plastic bags wrapped around our new weaves, forbid us from riding the wave,
For fear that we would be a mass of blackness swept by the tide
And never to return
Like litter.
The elders forbid us as if the ocean has food poisoning
I often wonder why I feel as if I am drowning every time I look out into the sea
This and feeling incredibly small
And I often hear this joke
About Black people not being able to swim,
Or being scared of water;
We are mocked
And we have often mocked ourselves
For wiping our faces the way that we do when we come out of the water-
Compare it to how they do it all bay-watch like
And how we so ratchet-like with our postures and kink.
Yet every time our skin goes under
It’s as if the reeds remember that they were once chains
And the water, restless, wishes it could spew all of the slaves and ships onto shore
Whole as they had boarded, sailed and sunk
Their tears are what have turned the ocean salty,
This is why our irises burn every time we go under.
Every December sixteenth, December 24th and December 31st
Our skin re-traumatises the sea
They mock us
For not being able to throw ourselves into something that was instrumental in trying to execute our extinction.
For you, the ocean is for surf boards, boats and tans
And all the cool stuff you do under there in your bathing suits and goggles
But we, we have come to be baptised here
We have come to stir the other world here
We have come to cleanse ourselves here
We have come to connect our living to the dead here
Our respect for water is what you have termed fear
The audacity to trade and murder us over water
Then mock us for being scared of it
The audacity to arrive by water and invade us
If this land was really yours, then resurrect the bones of the colonisers and use them as a compass
Then quit using black bodies as tour guides or the site for your authentic African experience
Are we not tired of dancing for you?
Gyrating and singing on cue
Are we not tired of gathering as a mass of blackness?
To atone for just being here
To beg God to save us from a war we never started
To March for a cause caused by the intolerance for our existence
Raise our hands so we don’t get shot
Raise our hands in church to pray for protection
And we still get shot there too
With our hands raised
Invasion comes naturally for your people
So you have come to rob us of our places of worship too
Come to murder us in prisons too
That is not new either
Too many white people out here acting God
Too many white people out here doing the work of God,
And this God of theirs has my tummy in knots
Him and I have always had a complicated relationship
This blue eyed and blond haired Jesus I followed in Sunday school
Has had my kind bowing to a white and patriarchal heaven
Bowing to a Christ, his son, and 12 disciples
For all we know
the disciples could have been queer, the holy trinity some weird twisted love triangle
And the Holy Ghost transgender
But you will only choose to understand the scriptures that suit your agenda
You have taken the liberty to colonise the concept of God
Gave god a gender, a skin colour and a name in a language we had to twist our mouths around
Blasphemy is wrapping Slavery in the Gospel and calling it freedom
Blasphemy is having to watch my kind use the same gospel to enslave each other
Since the days of Elijah We have been engineered kneel to whiteness
And we are not even sure if the days of Elijah even existed
Because whoever wrote the bible did not include us
But I would rather exist in that god-less holy book than in the history books that did not tell truth
About us
For us
On behalf of us
If you really had to write our stories
Then you ought to have done it in our mother’s tongues
The ones you cut off when you fed them a new language

We never consent
Yet we are asked to dine with the oppressors
And Serve them forgiveness
How, when the only ingredients I have are grief and rage

Another one (who looks like me) died today
Another one (who looks like me) was murdered today

May that be the conversation at the table
And we can all thereafter wash this bitter meal with amnesia

And go for a swim after that
Just for fun.
Just for fun.

Dear Readers, today I’m heading home, so just a quick post – here are some of the photos that I’ve taken during this botanical tour of Namaqualand and the Western Cape. I will try to work out some identification when I get home, but for now, here’s a chance to revel in the sheer diversity of plants in this area, many of them found nowhere else.

Dear Readers, we are approaching the end of my trip to South Africa, but it wouldn’t have been complete without a visit to Boulders Beach, home to a colony of endangered African Penguins, plus a large number of rock hyraxes. Previously, these small furry animals had been glimpsed at the top of rocks, or seen galloping across the road, so it was quite a shock to get up close and personal with thism.

However, the main attraction here is the penguins. From just two breeding pairs in 1982, the colony has grown to nearly 3,000 pairs, largely due to banning trawling in False Bay, where the penguins breed. There are boardwalks which take you to the beach, and you can watch the penguins feeding their young, chatting away to one another and waddling about from sea to beach.

It was a joy to observe these birds, and even more of a joy to observe the people who were there – many were dressed in their Sunday best, and I’m sure we must have looked like a bunch of miscreants, what with our dusty walking gear and assortment of unusual sun hats. But this was a great way to finish up what has been a busy but rewarding trip.

Dear Readers, apart from our first day in South Africa, we have had absolutely stunning weather since our arrival, however today featured grey clouds and rain. But the West Coast National Park is stunning whatever the weather, and in some areas there were the sheets of yellow flowers that they show in the promotional literature..

Plus there are stunning sea views -and lagoon views –  sometimes you can see whales from the viewpoints, but apparently it’s the wrong time of year for the Right Whales to be passing.

There was a really friendly Grey Tit near the toilets – you can see their close relationship to our Great Tit.

And we actually saw some large mammals – a Gemsbok, a herd of Zebra and this stunning Bontebok. This species was hunted almost to extinction, but was brought back from the brink from a group of 17 individual animals. Today there are approximately 3,000 Bontebok. The one in the photo wandered over and passed our minibus with immense confidence.

And then we started the long journey back to Cape Town, but not before popping into a final bird hide, where two swallows were nesting. This bird was happily flying in and out of the hide.

The rain set in, and we headed back to Cape Town for the final days of our holiday. And we got our first views of Table Mountain – you may remember it was so grey that we couldn’t see it when we arrived.

Tomorrow, more botanising and bird-watching, and the chance of some penguins!