Okay, everyone: we’re going to France! Major news flash: we’ve been in beautiful Belgium this week, but because of the London bombings we’ve been diverted to Le Havre in Normandy. Naturally, everyone’s in an uproar (both positive and negative); the faculty are running around trying to find out how to teach about France. It’ll be no problem for me: Debussy and Ravel and Satie are all instant and easy choices, as is Algerian rai music, so I hardly need to prepare at all. Of course all of us called home immediately to share the news. A number of people are upset about not going to London at all, and of course there are people who are ready to see the negative in every little thing. We are not that kind of people! Vive la France! And I can speak French, un petit peu… We’re just taking note of the irony that Russia and Poland proved to be perfectly safe, and that England would turn out to be the unsafe port for us on this particular voyage. As far as we know, our plans to visit Ireland and Spain remain unchanged.

Things are moving very quickly in terms of teaching these days, because we have only a day or two between each port, during which time we have to teach everything we have about those countries. It’ll be a challenge: one day for France? One day for Ireland? Two days for Spain! I was excited to talk to my students about the Flemish Renaissance, but even with all my excitement about it, it’s hard to get them into it. I taught them some Dutch (some of which is easy: dank u needs no translation), waved my arms around and paced, and played Josquin des Prez’s gorgeous Pange Lingua mass, pretty much to no avail. Hmpf. They seemed to brighten up when I taught them to play a Flemish polka on their pennywhistles. One good thing is that the large group of parents and extended family members of some of the students have now left the ship. They were only on from St. Petersburg to Gdansk (two weeks), but it felt like forever. I’m sure their sons and daughters were happy to have them here, but it was difficult for the rest of us (and I’m quite sure that it made the other students homesick and wish their own parents were here). Some of the parents were accustomed to living a very (very) wealthy lifestyle (think private jets to and from), and made their “needs” known to all. The faculty let out a cheer when the last parent had left the ship. We also let out a cheer when one of our law colleagues brought out two sacher tortes that he’d picked up in Vienna during a UN conference over the weekend!

On Monday we threaded our way through the narrow Kiel Canal in Germany, allowing us to bypass Denmark altogether. We had a short presentation by “Eddie the Navigator,” who informed us in his driest British way that when we went past Denmark the previous week (seeing Hamlet’s castle Elsinore early on the morning of the 4th of July, etc.) there was only one meter of water underneath the ship! That got all of our attention. The Kiel canal has been around for over a hundred years, and was one of the strategic places controlled by Germany prior to the beginning of World War I. It’s got locks on each side, and we entered it at about 7 am. I woke up when we were in the first lock and was very surprised to see men and cargo right outside our window! It was very hard to concentrate all day as we went zipping through the canal with people cycling and picnicking on both sides, waving to us. There was also a large number of boats and ships passing in the opposite direction, so of course we needed to wave to all of them, too. It was startling to fly past fields of grain and little villages here and there, with cars piled up on ten-car ferries all along, just waiting for us to pass. It was really fun, and quite different from anything else we’ve done so far. At the Elbe River end, we were also thrilled to watch the pilot boat (a catamaran) come straight toward us at a very high speed as if on a collision course, then whip around at the last minute to pick up the pilot who had guided us through the canal.

It was quite a surprise to see the low countries so soon after leaving the Kiel Canal; we could see sandy beaches, large condominiums, and many breakwaters by Tuesday afternoon. We also saw what I took to be islands; however, they were simply monster ships that seemed to take up a huge amount of sea space! Coming in to Antwerp was so beautiful; instead of arriving at 6 am, we arrived at 11 pm, which meant that we were all on deck to watch it happen. From the friendly space of the faculty/staff lounge on the seventh deck we watched as the ship threaded its way along the twists and turns of the long river that comes out from Ghent (further inland from Antwerp). We made our way along the river through 37 miles of oil refineries, high-tech three-pronged windmills, and brilliantly lit petrochemical factories; we also watched the nearly full moon rise over a couple of nuclear cooling towers. Strange! Later into the evening the distant spire of the Antwerp cathedral – all lit up – came slowly into view, and that’s when everyone poured out onto the decks to watch. The wind was blowing and it was cold, but we didn’t care as we drew closer and closer to downtown Antwerp. We’ve been berthed a long walk or a bus ride away from the downtown area in each port, and here in Antwerp we’ve been berthed only about 200 yards from the main square!! We can’t believe our luck! The cathedral is absolutely dazzling at night with the lights on it, and now that we’re far south enough so that it actually gets dark at night, we can all appreciate how fine it looks.

Antwerp is lively, fun, and has a large portion of the city (20%) free of cars. It’s got a significant Moroccan and Congolese population (though more Congolese people live in Brussels). It is apparently a terribly rainy city. It was just fine for the whole time we were there (mostly cloudy, sometimes dark grey clouds), though we got a bit of drizzle on the second evening. But I’ve heard that raincoats and umbrellas are part of the Belgian national costume! We took the usual city orientation tour on our first afternoon and found ourselves in the magnificent cathedral of Our Lady. It is huge. Oh, and I found out that a cathedral has a bishop, whereas a church does not. I didn’t know that. The cathedral has major paintings by Pieter Paul Rubens (a native son of Antwerp), and it was particularly interesting to see his attention to the musculature of the body. And no sooner had I learned about who St. Christopher was and what he was said to have done than I heard that his status had diminished considerably due to the fact that he in fact was only a legendary figure, not a real person. Anyway, we walked to Rubens’ house and saw where he lived and died, as well as his fine gardens. When his first wife died of the plague, he married a 16-year-old girl (he was 54!) and had five children by her before dying himself within nine years. I’ve got a problem with that age difference. I did love the gardens, though.

In the evening we went back to the cathedral for an organ concert. They have a new organ for baroque and contemporary music (built in 1993) and one for romantic-era music from 1891. The organist has been performing there since 1963, and just retired as the master organist in 2003. For the first half of the recital (set up just for my group from the Semester at Sea) we gathered in the center of the cathedral, where the new organ was, and listened to about half an hour of gorgeous music. I mentioned to the people in my group that Europeans don’t applaud at organ recitals until they’re finished, so we sat like mice (reverent mice). Then the wonderful organist (Stanislaw Daedecker) took us all to the back of the cathedral and up the back stairs to see the magnificent old 19th century organ (about half a dozen couldn’t or wouldn’t climb the 43 stairs, and some were angry about it – but those who climbed appeared to be thrilled). We saw the pipes up close, and he gathered us all around the four manuals (four different keyboard levels) and showed us how the stops worked for trumpets, flutes, oboes, etc. Then he played another several pieces for us, with all of us watching in rapt attention all around him. His English was excellent, so he was easily able to respond to questions. A number of my music students were on that tour, so they will be able to use it for one of their fieldwork assignments. I bought one of the CDs.

On Thursday it was our wedding anniversary (21 years!), and we went to Brussels, where Belgium’s National Day was being celebrated in grand style. It’s a speedy train trip if you take the intercity (Amsterdam to Brussels), but we got on the local and it took an hour. Oh well! All the shops were closed, as we knew they would be, but it was only 1 euro to get into any museum (instead of the usual six to eight euros). Hooray! We went to the Musical Instrument Museum, housed in the dazzling art nouveau “Old England” building. You can’t miss it; it’s covered with curvaceous wrought iron and has fanciful windows, and the interior has stenciled walls and a dramatic, centrally located old-style elevator. What fun! They hand you a set of headphones when you walk in, and you can stand in front of an exhibit and hear a selection of music that a particular instrument would play. The first floor was all mechanical instruments (pump organs, music boxes, etc.). The second floor was world music instruments, including long zithers from Asia and Africa (ones I’d never heard!), instruments for Chinese opera, an East Javanese gamelan, hurdy gurdys, horns, dulcimers, bagpipes, dozens of flutes and oboes from all over the world, and various drums. One of the things that surprised me the most was the huge variety of instruments found right here in Belgium (bagpipes, dulcimers, zithers, indigenous flutes, drums, etc.). I had no idea. And of course there were plenty of things that I could identify immediately by the timbre or the styles of the music being played, but I was startled to see how few instruments from Europe that I recognized. I was impressed with the sound quality of the selected cuts that we heard, and my only disappointment was that the museum did not have CDs of those cuts for sale. Too bad!

On our way out of the museum gift shop we could tell that the National Day celebrations were heading into full swing: Morgan spotted a cloud with the Belgian colors on it, there was a major flyover show of military strength, thousands of people had gathered, and there was a busy parade going on. We saw many people in period costume (some marching with axes and tools, others milling through the crowd); we also saw many giant puppets parading through the crowd (including a surprising set of devils). In the central square at the top of the hill people were demonstrating traditional farming tools (including a hay baler run by a horse climbing a steep treadmill). People were carrying balloons, and eating fries and waffles by the thousands (these are the two “national dishes” – fries and waffles, both of which the Belgians claim to have invented). It was noisy and festive and full of brass band music. I was amazed to see one of my students in the densely packed crowd with her Flemish relatives. We stopped in at the Royal Museum of Fine Arts, but many of the things we wanted to see were closed, so we just wandered through and enjoyed what we could in the short time we had. As we headed out toward the train station we came upon a Congolese brass band in full military dress. From a distance it sounded as if they were playing the Belgian national anthem, but then I realized that it must be the Congolese anthem instead. As we got closer, the music began to get livelier, and then it began to swing! This was absolutely Congolese brass band music, not Belgian, and it was fantastic. Competing polyrhythms, a time line going on in the percussion, you name it. They had shifted seamlessly into it. The musicians were swaying, and many in the audience were as well. Morgan and I started dancing. It was joyous. And there were plenty of Congolese people listening and moving.

We caught the speedy train back to Antwerp, and within minutes we were seated at the Roeden Hood (“red hat”) restaurant, eating green olives with herbs and garlic, drinking our special Belgian beers (Cary’s was light and almost lemony; mine was amber-colored and more savory; Morgan had sparkling water), and waiting for mussels to arrive. It’s mussel season! Every café and restaurant is advertising them. For about twenty dollars you get what seems like a giant bucket of them (half a gallon or more), along with a bowl of fries and mayonnaise. This dish, moules et frîtes, is THE local dish of Antwerp. Morgan had plain mussels (which nonetheless came with onions and greens and a luscious broth at the bottom); I had mussels made with beer, and Cary had Thai-style mussels (with green curry). It was just wonderful, including the broth, and we were stuffed. We did indeed find a few tiny crabs inside some of the mussel shells. And the fries were delicious. Speaking as someone who never eats fries at home, I was very happy with them. The mayonnaise was the genuine homemade local stuff, and it was terrific. For dessert we split a lemon tart with frozen yogurt on top, surrounded by a few tiny fruits: raspberry, loquat, dried orange slice, and red currants. Of course I will remember all of it (I really do remember special meals), but particularly liked the beer!

On Friday we went off to Brugge (aka Bruges) for the day. We had a special day-pass from the train company that allowed us entrance to museums, a city orientation, drinks at a local café, and round trip tickets. This time we remembered to take the inter-city train instead of the local train! In no time at all we were there, and wandered all over the place in this gorgeous medieval town with its cathedral, fine town hall, many canals and many bridges. We also visited a beguinhof, where medieval women who were widowed in the Crusades could set up women-only compounds without being nuns. It was fascinating! They are now being run by Dominican nuns, and the compound we went to was rich in atmosphere and feeling. We loved it. We also saw swans (including one big clumsy grey cygnet), richly colored flowers in baskets spilling out over the canals and streets, and fine-looking horses pulling carts all over the cobblestoned streets. It was a lively and crowded city, and it seemed as if there were chocolate shops everywhere we turned! We found fabulous bread at a shop that translates as “Daily Bread,” stunning local cheese, and a set of chocolates; who could ask for anything more? It was so much fun to eat!! It turns out that the Beurze family was one of the first money lending families in the area, and we get not only the word “bank” from them, but the word “bursar,” “reimburse,” “disburse,” etc. My computer’s dictionary disagrees with me, but that’s just too bad.

We went to two very good museums, both quite “manageable”. The first contained works of Belgian artists from the 14th to the 20th century, including a wonderful special exhibit of Memling portraits from the 1400’s. There were, several stunning Van Eyck paintings which Cary had studied in the art history class he’s auditing. The second museum (The Memling musem) was notable for its setting, a restored 12th-century hospital for which Memling had been commissioned to create paintings and a reliquary.

Going into the chocolate shops is a delight; you just point and they select each one with their white gloves and place it in a box for you. Whee! We rushed back to the train station to catch the 6 pm train back to Antwerp, and once we were on the train we broke out the chocolates. We each had a third of each chocolate. The first one we had was a thick ganache (like a truffle) center, covered with white chocolate. The dreamy aftertaste seemed to go on forever! The second one was dried lightly sweetened coconut covered in very dark chocolate; it was crunchy with long-lasting flavor, and was unquestionably the freshest version of that combination that I’d ever had. Another one was chocolate covered caramel, which I normally don’t care for, but knowing what a fine chocolatier made it, how could I not try it? Well! You could tell that it had probably been made that very morning; there were tones of cream and brown sugar and vanilla and whatever else goes into caramel. The fourth one was a hazelnut layered chocolate square; creamy and luscious and very gentle on the hazelnut flavor. Our fifth was a stunner: it tasted sort of like chocolate covered blue cheese! Morgan was shocked. I took a bite and I was shocked. Cary took a bite and he was shocked. We still have no idea what it was; whatever it was, it was strange and absolutely unlike any other chocolate I’ve ever had. I’m sure there was no real blue cheese, but who knows what it really was?? To change the flavor, we had a plain hazelnut covered with chocolate. Fresh hazelnut! I feel like I’ve been eating stale hazelnuts (and almonds, and walnuts, etc.) my whole life. This was very, very fresh. What a blissful experience! Half a pound was about $10. A couple of days later we had pistachio marzipan covered with dark chocolate (!!!), more hazelnut, a kind of white chocolate covered butter brickle, and an intensely fresh minty center with dark chocolate on the outside. Whew! And that was just the Van Oost chocolates! I’ve always worried about See’s chocolates; you never know when you’re going to get some nasty syrupy cherry thing. These have been glorious.

On the way home from the train station we ran into some friends who told us about the rumor of a change in plans (going to France instead of London); we were still a little hungry so we got some Belgian frîtes with mayonnaise and split them among the three of us. Then the rumor was confirmed, and we went to the phone and called our parents (along with every other person on the ship). On Saturday – our last day in port – we visited a Tintin shop and found a couple of things to buy (a deck of cards, a rare English-language version of the very rare Tintin in the Land of the Soviets, and a couple of “Snowy” pencils). Tintin, my favorite comic book character, comes from Belgium, so every town seems to have a Tintin shop. Hooray! Oh, and I bought a Polish-language version of Tintin in America. Fun! Considering that I bought nothing in Poland, this sort of stands in as a Polish souvenir. The same shop had Tintin in Tibet written in Tibetan! Cary led us to Marcolini, Antwerp’s finest chocolate shop, and we picked up half a pound of chocolates there (a bag of flat chocolate pieces and pieces that were from specific bean-growing areas in the world – Venezuela, Ecuador, West Africa, etc. – so that we could taste the differences between them). Then Cary went to the grocery store and Morgan and I couldn’t resist visiting a third chocolate shop (Neuhaus) and getting half a pound of chocolates from them as well! The lady there was very helpful, explaining that all the best chocolate shops make similar things, but that each one has its specialties. Naturally, I wanted the specialties!

Have I told you about the Hard to Fathom Boys? It’s one version of a faculty band: myself, the academic dean Ron Linden, law faculty Rick Lorenz and Harry Flechtner, and Cary. We’ve performed on several occasions, usually in some comedic situation as in a couple of weeks ago, when we did a satiric version of “Hats Off to Larry” with funny lyrics about the first Global Perspectives exam. I had also asked them to sing a sea shanty when we first hit the open ocean, so everyone knows us now. On Sunday morning we had originally planned to sing an English drinking song called “John Barleycorn.” However, since we weren’t going to England after all, we devised a scheme whereby we start singing it, and the spouse of another faculty (who happens to be fluent in French) interrupts us in angry French (wearing my black beret), berating us for singing in English and we end up singing the last chorus with a bad French accent. (I explained afterward that it had a sort of je ne sais rien quality to it, which exactly four people out of the crowd of four hundred “got”). The whole thing was much, much funnier than it sounds on the page, really! We also did a second satire (based on the folk song “Today”) on account of the second Global Perspectives exam. It’s been fun.

So, on to Normandy now! We’ve got the beginnings of some ideas of what to do (my plans do not include overwhelming Morgan with the Louvre; the glorious Hermitage was quite enough for one trip). We may visit Mont St. Michel (the island monastery on the west coast), Rouen and Giverny (for the Monet connection – he was born in LeHavre), and possibly Chartres. Paris? I’m not sure. Half the ship’s passengers will be in Paris. I was worried enough about London being a giant city, but we’ll see how we feel about Normandy and then decide what to do. Oh, and I did try to use an internet café, with its odd European keyboard (letters are in very strange and unintuitive places!). It took me 45 minutes to chip away at various tasks (deleting spam and reading urgent messages), and I couldn’t write a decent message to anyone without taking forever and actually looking at the keys! I’ll try again in France.

On our last night in Antwerp we went out to dinner at the Hippodroom (pronounced “Hippo-drome”), an elegant “modern style” restaurant with sparse décor: blacks and whites and greys. Cary had a filet of lamb (absolutely tender) with potatoes and carrots and a very nice sauce. I had a lightly grilled ahi tuna and a dill-and-mustard-greens salad that had been sautéed for about one minute, then covered with shoestring potatoes. Whee! Oh, and we had shrimp croquets for an appetizer, and Morgan had gazpacho with a fresh pasta cannelloni filled with lightly grilled vegetables. Yum! Incredibly, we weren’t interested in dessert because we knew we had chocolates at home waiting for us. When we walked out of the restaurant (right across the street from the fine arts museum Cary had explored earlier in the afternoon) we crossed the street and went to the most extraordinary carousel we have ever seen. It was small, with about two dozen creatures on it. Every creature was an original creation of wood or metal: a fish (blowing actual bubbles) with a chair suspended from it, an ostrich with a moving head and legs (covered with genuine ostrich feathers!), a winged Icarus with moving wings and head, a stag beetle that reared up, an iguana with eyes that moved independently and a head that wagged back and forth, a flying goose that periodically “flew” out from the carousel and flew back, a boat that wobbled and pitched (with nearby moving waves and leaping dolphins), a steam engine with actual steam that poured out, etc. Up above the creatures on the carousel there were a number of surreal photographs (like a man onstage taking pictures of an opera house audience, with a giant lizard emerging from the balcony, or camels in line at an indoor train station). Everything about it was hand-made, perfectly whimsical, and at least partly manipulatable by the children riding the creatures. Some of it seemed to include cobbled together spare wrought iron and bicycle parts. The upper age limit, tragically, was 12, so we couldn’t go on it! But we invited Morgan to ride twice (once on the stag beetle, once on Icarus) – it was just fifty cents. The music was our favorite thing about it; it was composed precisely for this one carousel, and it fit the whole scene perfectly. We were absolutely enchanted by it.

We made our way back to the ship and waited to leave the dock until during Global Perspectives class this morning (right, in fact, at the moment that the Hard to Fathom Boys were performing). I taught impressionism and Debussy to my first class and French-Algerian pop (including how to dance to it) to my second class. So here we are, headed to Normandy without any genuine plans. FUN!