THE BENELUX REGION -- BELGIUM, NETHERLANDS, LUXEMBOURG (CONTINUED)

(AMSTERDAM)

One day down and 134 to go.  After a 9 hour flight from Seattle to Amsterdam – which included free liquor and four free movies (almost the perfect anesthetic): Gravity, August: Osage County, Walter Mitty, and The Book Thief – I had a most efficient and unexpectedly rapid journey through the customs and baggage sorting area at Amsterdam’s Schiphol (pronounced “Ski-Pole”) International Airport.  A means of quickly sorting out the way to the Hotel Mozart was arranged, and due to early arrival was only able to store bags in the lobby office area.

Immediately ventured over to the Van Gogh art museum prior to 9:30 AM area.  Due to the popularity of the great artist’s work in both private collections and museums worldwide, there were not as many paintings to view as one might have ordinarily expected.   I was struck by the fact Van Gogh never sold a single painting during his lifetime, and that he was only a practicing artist for 10 years -- from 1880 to 1890. His inspiration was found in Holland, and in Paris and Arles in southern France.  In practice his technique evolved from dark moody pieces, typically landscapes at first, to colorful splashes of contrasted colors.

This was often characterized by rounded dabs, short dashes, and eventually swirls in his own famous take on the “Pointelism” style.  In seeking to discover his painting “voice,” Van Gogh seemed to use virtually every imaginable canvas material and texture.  His paint went from homemade, to purchased, to thick and sculptural, and then thinned multi-layered washes.   His subject matter focused on craftsman and laborers.  Some of Van Gogh’s most famous works involved wheatfield laborers and potato harvesters.  His diversity of subject matter,  variety of techniques and contrasting use of color combination are what seem to stand out in Van Gogh’s brief tenured career but he proved to be highly influential to other artists that followed and was considered one of the forerunners of modern art.

While not expecting to immediately get much out of a period following an overnight flight and lingering jet lag, the first day also resulted in an opportunity to visit the gloriously steepled Westkerk  Church, first built in 1620 and  the “inspiration for more songs and more stories than any other church in the Netherlands.”  A talented and affable artist I met there, Ron Licher, discussed his family’s history as a survivor from a long line of Huegenots escaping French persecution in the 1600s.  His ancestors had come to Holland as refugees, but had laid down roots there.   Many had lived on the same nearby street for over 350 years.

The next intended destination was the Ann Frank museum.  Along the way Amsterdam (“The Diamond City”) was proving to be a delightful walking destination, rather like Dublin but organized around a charming spider-web type arrangement of canals and reclaimed land.  Not too large to bore you, but small enough and personal enough not to wear you out.   As a first time visitor,  I was struck by the number of bikes everywhere.  Due to the number of two wheelers, at no time during my two days here did I see anything remotely resembling a traffic jam.

The city was also scrupulously clean.  It also had almost as many coffee shops as Seattle, and the characteristic smell of ganji (weed) floating over the streets in many parts of the city.  It was the first sunny day of what appeared to be an early end to winter, and everyone was outside enjoying the weather at waterside clubs and cafes adjacent to the city’s numerous canals.  It looked as if it was Paris in the spring along the Seine.  All I encountered were friendly and helpful in every way possible, whether their assistance was requested or not. 

Ann Frank was a Jewish girl born in Frankfurt, Germany June 19, 1929.  Her parents had decided to leave Germany after Adolf Hitler came to power.  In May of 1940 Germany invaded The Netherlands and began its four year occupation of Holland, systematically continuing the eradication of Jews that had been initiated in Poland and other conquered countries in previous months.

On July 6, 1942, Ann Frank and seven others from her family and a few close friends went into hiding in a two room annex their father Otto had added to his fruit and jam business.  Anne was given a diary to record her experiences, after being encouraged by a British Broadcasting Corporation radio message from the Dutch exile government in London to record the details of their occupation by the Germans.  For over two years, Ann kept that diary.  Often it was the only way she had of expressing herself emotionally in what proved to be very trying circumstances

.

On August 4, 1944 her family was betrayed by informants (it was never revealed who had turned then in to the Gestapo).  All eight were sent to Auschwitz.  Otto Frank was the sole survivor after the war, along with several business associates who had helped feed and care for the family over that two year hiding period.  Frank’s associates utilized a series of local vendors, black market sources and food ration coupons supplied by Dutch resistance fighters to keep the family supplied.  The area around the store room for his fruit and jam business was naturally blacked out as light adversely affected the spices which went into their product.  As a result, suspicion about the annex and its purpose did not immediately present a problem for the family.

Stress, nutrition shortages, lack of light, fresh air, and lack of exercise all affected the group’s help however.  The family and their close friends could speak very little for two years, and had to be careful when to turn on their water and flush their toilets.  Often these simple acts were timed to coincide with the ringing of nearby church bells.  Writing was Ann Frank’s catharsis from all this deprivation.  She passed away from undetermined circumstances one month before the Allies liberated Auschwitz in the summer of 1944.

After the war, Otto took his daughter’s diary and papers and organized them.  They were first published in 1947 as Ann Frank: “The Diary of a Young Girl.”  Over 35,000,000 copies were sold since, making it one of the world’s greatest bestsellers ever.  It has been described as “the finest example of the persecution of innocence ever written.” The book was translated into over 70 languages.  I was personally struck through my tour of the museum (which is made up of the office and annex/hiding place for the Frank family) by the fact eight people could go so long undetected and facing such austere conditions.  Also an Otto Frank statement, made all the more ironic by his very tight living situation with his daughter for over two years : “I didn’t really know Ann that well, given what I learned about her from her writing … It turns out most parents really don’t know their kids.”

Afterward, abused by the jet lag after having been up all night on my flight from Seattle, an orbit of the city was continued to visit “The Market Area” with the city’s primary shopping, churches, pubs, and  red light district.  Even the ladies (both Dutch and foreign) tour this latter area for its amusing display of scantily clad women beckoning from huge glass windows to each wanderer in offer of their services, their bodies, and their imaginations.  Later, following a brief nap (after actually checking in to the now prepared hotel room), the nearby restaurant row area of Leidsegracht was added to the tour.

Virtually every nationality of cuisine was available – with a surprising emphasis on Asian food.  But the prices … My God!  Even a starter or an apertif salad might cost upward of 14 Euros (approaching $20 US).  I settled on a Greek place called Waves recommended by an Italian (each always a preferred standby for me, along with Mexican).  The simple and light meal of lemon rice in fish broth, a Greek dinner salad, and dolmathes (prepared rice rolled in cooked grape leaves) proved to be a great antidote for flight fatigue.

I asked our waiter about the current Muslim tension in Amsterdam.  Five years previously, a film producer named Theo Van Gogh (a distant relative of the painter) had been shot on the street for allegedly blashpheming the prophet Mohammed.  It exacerbated already tight relations between the native Dutch and the immigrant (Arab) minorities.  It was generally felt the Muslims coming to the Netherlands were under educated, did not bring much in the way of job skills with them (and were thus under qualified to compete in a modern European economy), would not learn the language, wanted the utilization of Sharia (or Islamic religious law) in to their own affairs, and would not assimilate into Dutch customs or culture.  Locals feel Muslims immigrate in to the Netherlands therefore to take advantage of the prosperity and social safety net offered by a liberal European democracy.

A consensus between my waiter and restaurant owner indicated that while the Muslims have unrealistic expectations around their rights and responsibilities within the Netherlands, and that they frequently lack in cash or resources, are too insular an  inner grouping and make little attempt to mix with the Dutch, nevertheless if treated with respect usually did not cause problems.  It was hinted strongly that the Dutch police had done much to exacerbate whatever problems were extent within this ethnic divide due to consistently unfavorable treatment given the Muslim minorities.

(BRUGGE, BELGIUM)

The actor Colin Ferrel, as a bored hitman named Ray, is forced to hang out in a Belgian town he did not care for while waiting for his assignment in the 2006 film “In Brugge.” Feeling somewhat repentant near the end of the film, he exclaimed: “Hell is having to stay in Brugge forever.”  Luckily, the rest of the world would clearly disagree with him.

My journey begins with a Hertz rental car pickup at Schipol Airport.  The procurement was made online through a third-party intermediary, with e-mail follow up for clarification purposes.  These people are more adept pillagers than Genghis Khan.  No, I did not get the $33 daily rate promised in all the promotional come-ons.  You find this out when you actually pick up the car and find your paperwork “is not complete.”

In addition to the daily rate, which probably goes  directly into the primary marketer’s retirement fund, they hit you at the counter for an additional 79 Euro fuel deposit, a 73 Euro (about $1.40 to the  dollar as of this writing) airport and road use tax, 25 Euros daily for collision insurance, and 21 Euros daily for the GPS system.   I know we flummox outsiders in Seattle with this sophistry.  That is how we paid for two half-a-billion dollar stadiums (each) within a decade of each other.  But these reprobates have raised the art of theft to banker level.  I take off, mindful of keeping my distance from other cars, and  praying I don’t get involved in even the most modest of accidents.  My annoyance is only overcome by the pleasure of once again driving a manual six speed, and knowing I will later be on freeways or autobahns with an unlimited speed limit.

Brugge has something for everyone.  It is first defined by a four mile water perimeter, outlined by a pair of concentric  and still navigable canals that encircle the egg-shaped city.  Other smaller canals branch off from these primary watercourses to penetrate the city like a series of  bare winter branches. Picturesque hilltop Windmills and protective fairytale gatehouses – remnants of the defensive wall that used to surround the city -- punctuate the perimeter route.  Massive steepled churches pierce the interior skyline.  Each is completely different (and recognizable).  One navigates by looking UP in Brugges, not at street signs.  The buildings are made of multi-colored stone and brick in the Flemish style, with triangular- tiered red tile rooflines and richly colored facades.

All walking paths, narrow alleys, shop-lined cobbled streets and bike paths lead to the central Market Square. 

The square in turn is dominated by the massive 83 meter Belfry Tower.  It takes a 366 step effort to reach the top, through narrow, tightly spiraled stone steps.  But the effort is worth it.  Along the way, at various rest stop rooms, the history of Brugge is explained in multiple languages.  At one time, when the population was up to 40,000 (today it stands about half that, with 130,000 in the expanded city outside “The Center”) the beautiful city was considered “The New York of its day,” with one of the largest populations in Europe.  It was the financial center of Europe – long before Florence or Rome or Paris or London came into such prominence.  Merchants and aristocrats and craftsmen grew ponderously rich on the goods produced, imported and exported from the city.  Guilds controlled the quantity and quality of items, keeping reputations and prices high.  Taxes and duties further contributed to the city’s wealth.   Artists proliferated here, including the famous Flemish Master Jan Van Eyck.

The Belfry Tower which dominates Market Square has one of the world’s greatest clock mechanisms.  In addition, it features a carillon arrangement of 47 bronze bells.  In former times, these bells were hand rung.  In modern times they are mechanically actuated in an ingenious system of pushrods that denote the time with various tones or musical medlays on the quarter hour, half hour, and hour in full.  When viewing the multi-story mechanism up close, you wonder how the Belgians got this heavy equipment up into the tower, given its elevation hundreds of feet above the ground, the solid masonry of the belfry itself, and the narrow stairwells that are the only means of ascent.

With its meandering watercourses, Hobbit-sized masonry homes and picturesque stone arched bridges (softly lit, of course, during the evening for lovers to enjoy a romantic stroll) Brugge is not as rumored one of those places that “rolls the sidewalks up at five o’clock.”  When not otherwise engaged in candlelight inclinations, there is plenty more at night to draw the eye.  The dining is varied and well sited for great views.  The pubs are proudly mindful of the city’s history, and go to great lengths to lay out some sort of story of how their particular location fits into a larger picture.  The walkways stay lit for hand-in-hand twilight wanderings.

 

Local pride and regard for Brugge history shows up once again in the fabulously intricate oak framed infrastructure of the Musea Brugge, which – though built like a castle or a Renaissance Church – was actually the largest hospital in Europe (Sint-Janshospitaal).  The primary feature here is the exquisitely delicate marble carving of the Portal of Iconography of The Virgin Mary.

 

In the nearby Church of Our Lady of Brugge (Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk), is prominently displayed “The Madonna and Child,” an endearing marble sculpture created in 1504-05 by the world famous Italian renaissance artist Michaelangelo Buonarotti.  This piece was one of the few Michaelangelo ever allowed to leave Italy during his lifetime.  It was one of the pieces targeted by the Nazi aristocracy for transport back to private and hidden art collector lairs in Germany during WW II.  As such, it was highlighted in the recent film “The Monuments Men.”

Also worthy of mention is the cavernous and yet copiously adorned, block-long building historically known as “The Water Hall.”  This huge warehouse of sorts acted as both customs hall and storage place for goods both coming in and going out of Brugge. From the canals, it was possible to move cargo out of the weather’s rude influence and directly into storage as a result of elevated first-floor ceilings and dockside landings sited directly over a major canal terminus.   The building fell out of prominence as Brugge’s economic influence declined in the 16^th century, and was eventually destroyed.  It’s modern replacement no longer has water egress but is still favorably located immediately next door to the Belfry Tower.  Today it serves as a civic meeting place,  town hall, post office, series of restaurants (and pubs), and  museum.

(BASTOGNE)

As a confirmed history buff, I had always wanted to visit the scene of the last hurrah of the German war machine in World War II – the December of 1944 surprise counter attack by massed armor through what was otherwise thought to be an impenetrable Ardenne Forest,  resulting in a 70 mile puncture of Allied forward lines that famously came to be known as “The Battle of The Bulge.”  American troops putting up a fierce resistance to the numerically superior Nazis came to be known as "The Battling Bastards of Bastogne."

American units were initially cut off and surrounded by a crushing German advance.  Poor weather prevented the assistance of Allied army air superiority.  Shortages of food, ammunition and proper winter clothing hampered the American defense.  And yet, when asked for the surrender of his hopelessly encircled position, American General Anthony McAuliffe gave the German command pause with his curt and challenging reply: “Nuts!”

Try as I might, given so little time before a necessary return to Amsterdam, this excursion proved to be a major disappointment.  I drove the battleground – both at dusk and in daylight, trying to find major landmarks and museums that might explain the battle.  But the best museum, the Bastogne Military Barracks, only gave tours at exact times.  I arrived ten minutes late.  They would not allow latecomers to jump ahead and catch up.

Curiously, those meeting me at the front gate were Spanish troops.  Decidedly non bi-lingual ones.  I don’t remember reading much about their participation during the war.  We bantered back and forth, an attempt to negotiate by me really, but I learned nothing about the battle nor did I succeed in getting through to the tanks, artillery, equipment, or battle diagrams now being enjoyed by fellow military buffs arriving only ten minutes earlier.

The Bastogne Ardenne Museum was still being constructed.  Several others were closed for the season.  And the much sough after 101^st Airborne Museum (representing the paratroopers so humanly portrayed in HBO’s 10-part mini-series “Band of Brothers”) managed to keep itself hidden with poor signage and sad indifference from locals as to how to locate the place.  It was with great reluctance that I motored on to enjoy the breathtaking landscape of Luxembourg and my next target, the cathedral city of Cologne.

(COLOGNE)

European drivers are much more considerate than Americans.  You don’t have any DWAFs (Driving While Asian Female), barely able to peer over the steering wheel, yet insistent upon hogging the fast lane and going 10 to 15 miles per hour less than the traffic stream.  That won’t be tolerated here.  Otherwise you get a Mercedes approaching your bumper with frightening rapidity.  They swoop in suddenly from behind like fighter planes banking in out of the sun for the kill.  The effect is about the same as your first gasp at a horror movie. There is no speed limit – at least on the autobahns (superhighways).  But there is a hard and fast rule: Get Your Ass Over To The Right After You Have Passed Whatever Is In Front Of You!

So between the efficiency of the system and the combined beauty of the rolling hills of Luxembourg and Germany on the way to The Rhine River, it makes for a very pleasant and unhurried afternoon.  Huge wind towers dominate the landscape.  Not by the thousands, as exist near the North Sea northwest of Hamburg.  But enough to make one wonder why we are not copying the Germans in the United States.  It is obvious, also, that there is great prosperity attendant here.  No such thing as an old car, or an old house not already in the repair stage or already elegantly remodeled.

In a somewhat amusing manner, navigation can also be a bit of a problem for the unprepared.  Signs in Amsterdam and southward direct you to “Cologne.”  In Belgium, various spellings are used.  Same with Luxembourg.  In German however, it becomes “Koln.”  I thought myself off route many times and perhaps lost, until the proverbial gas station attendant alerted me to the proper hometown spelling of my target destination.

I wanted to visit Cologne Cathedral for many years, after learning it had somehow survived Allied massed bombing in World War II.  Some amazing photos exist, of the Cathedral standing tall and proud still (if a bit wounded), while everything around it had been decimated and existed in shell form only.  Another driving factor was the reality that this was the tallest cathedral in the world.  And you could walk to the top.  I am told about 2.5 million tourists visit the Cathedral yearly.

My ascent of the 533 steps in the Cathedral’s south tower is more labor of love than arduous task.  You get the unique vantage point as you walk up the dimpled (from so many years of foot traffic) and tightly spiraled stone risers of the fine and close-up details of countless statues, delicate coronets, spires and latticework, gargoyles, ribs, gables, buttresses, windows,  lead roof, and so much more.  You wonder how men working more than half a millennium previously could have accomplished such marvelous craftsmanship, given their limited tools and such incredibly exposed positions.  Halfway up the climb is the Bell of Peter (cast in 1923), at 24 tons the largest free-swinging bronze bell in the world.

Some mind-numbing facts about this architectural wonder simply demand announcement.  Among those would be: a length of 474 feet, a width of 283 feet, a roof ridge of 201 feet, floor area of 7374 square yards, window area of 11,960 square yards, roof area of 14,950 square yards, space within its interior of 532,337 cubic yards, and finally a dizzying height of 516 feet (both towers)!

You can see this amazing construct from 20 miles away.  Sooted still, from the days of the Industrial Revolution, this twin-towered Gothic style behemoth nevertheless stands in stark testament to the vision of man in the uplifted reaches of his loftier nature.  I had seen the Vatican up close and personal.  That took 250 years to construct.  And the modern Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, which has taken 130 years and is only 70% finished.  But Cologne surpasses all of them in the same commanding manner that the UCLA Bruins used to dominate college basketball.

A church of some sort has existed here since it was a single meeting room of approximately 2500 square feet in the 4^th century..  In the 6^th century, the church’s chapel was expanded and rebuilt into the shape of a cross.  This was further expanded in continuous phases until being destroyed by fire in the middle of the 9^th century.  Replacement was immediately begun on a substitute known as “The Old Cathedral,” which essentially retained the shape of its predecessor.

On April 13 of 1248 plans were presented for a new, expanded Gothic Style Cathedral.  Thirteen days later, the old Cathedral burned down once again.  The first stone for the new cathedral was laid shortly after on August 15^th, taking care to incorporate what existing portions of the Old Cathedral as could reasonably be preserved.

Relics began to play an important part in the Cathedral’s history, and growth.  Included were the Gero Crucifix of 976, the oldest remaining monumental crucifix in the western world.  In 1164 the Cathedral Bishop transferred from Milan the “bones” of the Three Magi, and a shrine was built to house these relics.  As a result, the Christian Faithful came from all over Europe and the Cologne Pilgrimage became one of the largest of the Middle Ages.  The prosperity engendered by this influx of worshipers helped bring about the bold planning for the present day construction marvel.

Construction continued – especially in the vertical element of the Cathedral – but haltingly at times, due to finance shortages.  At long last, on October 15 of 1880, the last stone was laid in the southern component of the Cathedral’s signature twin towers (begun in 1360)..  Overall construction had taken 632 years and two months.  The relative pace of construction near the end (the towers “only” took 17 years) was enhanced with monetary help from the King of Prussia and a very successful Catholic Lottery.

The previously mentioned bomb damage from World War II collapsed a total of 14 vaults, and much of the side windows above them.  This was heaviest on the Cathedral’s west side.  The explosions caused the north transept to collapse, a large west window to be destroyed, and a massive buttress pier on the north side of the west façade resulted in a potentially catastrophic cavity which had to be immediately shored up with bricks.  As a result, the church was not usable again marginally until 1948, and fully usable in 1956.

However … construction continues.  This is necessary due to the effects of deterioration from wind, rain, and now pollution.  Currently, approximately 100 full-time employees and a number of contracted companies are retained to see that damaged parts are replaced, roof and rain troughs are kept in working order, rusting metal is attended to, wall and glass paintings are restored, and all parts are maintained.

It can therefore be safely predicted that nobody living today, will likely ever see Cologne Cathedral without scaffolding and protective netting of some kind draping its noble exterior again.  As a local saying so stoically notes: “When the Cathedral is finished, the world will end.”

(Next: Capetown, South Africa)