Antwerp

It was during Mr T’s last business trip to Antwerp that the incident with the boiler took place. Call me paranoid (because I am) but when he said he was off again for a couple of nights, it wasn’t a case of please don’t leave me, but can I come too?

We arrived on Monday evening and the Grote Markt was quiet. Antwerp’s main square is awash with bars and restaurants, in fact I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many bars and restaurants in one place, but we only wanted a drink (we’d eaten before leaving Haarlem, to lessen the time the cat was by himself - yes, I know, I’m daft). The barmaid insisted we sample the chef's sausage rolls - she was giving them away free. Mr T is a sucker for sausage rolls, but this thing was the size and weight of a brick. Even he ended up resorting to hiding the remains under a serviette.

Despite popular belief company wives are not funded on expenses. There was no full English for me and Mr T was up and out of the hotel by eight the following morning. Two whole days to fill in Antwerp – by myself.

Of course by now I’m used to setting off exploring on my own.   Being Belgium of course it was raining, and because it was before noon, everything was closed. No problem, I would just walk, splash through the puddles, and admire the architecture.

I took shelter, as corporate wives tend to do, in a café, and managed to make a mug of very hot, very sickly chocolate last for at least an hour. I stumbled more by luck than judgement upon the Rubenshuis – the home of artist Peter Paul Rubens and managed (just) to make that last another hour. I bought sandwiches to take back to the hotel room, watched Bargain Hunt, and then set out again in the rain for the Fashion Museum. The Fashion Museum presented a conundrum. I found the building, I found what I thought was the entrance, but could I get the door to open? No. There was no door handle, no sign to push, slide or pull. I could see people inside, but they obviously couldn't see me.  I'd like to think I was too short for the automatic sensor, but on the other hand, perhaps the Mode Museum is was just like one of those uber-exclusive boutiques; with my mac,  hat, gloves, scarf and umbrella perhaps I just wasn’t stylish enough to be let in. I’ll never know.

The following day presented more of the same. A morning at the historical museum or the printing museum didn’t really appeal, and I don’t do religion, so while I admired the exterior magnificence of Antwerp’s many churches I had no desire to go in. In typical corporate-wife style I resorted instead to browsing the main shopping street. Two handbags for the price of one? I'm married to a professional buyer - I know a bargain when I see one. After that, I felt I'd exhausted Antwerp's possibilities.

We have promised ourselves to see as much as mainland Europe as we can while we're over here. We've already done Bruges and I'm really not bothered about Brussels, so I think we can pretty much cross Belgium off our list. Bought the chocolates, drank the beer and left the sausage roll. Tick.