Today is the day Antwerp all comes together. Mark this day. 14 October, 2000. I find two things that matter to me... Leysstraat. The Antwerp Stadhuis. Now, I've reluctantly concluded that I may not be related to Hendrik Leys, the artist. But for a long time I liked to think I was. I still feel a strong kinship towards him. I mean, Leys, Antwerp, it's gotta be. Right? Well, perhaps not. Though it is still unproven, one way or the other. Now, Leys is not all that common a name. Perhaps as a result of that, whenever I got my hands on an appropriate reference source, primarily an encyclopedia I hadn't seen before, but phone books and other things as well, the very first thing I would do would be to look up 'Leys'. See if there were any references. And, as you might expect, I've done that with the web, as well. I'd just about always strike out. Just about always. But back when the Encyclopedia Britannica was more informative, they had an entry under 'Leys'. The reference was Hendrik Leys. Didn't say an awful lot about him, but it said that he was an artist and created frescos that were in the town hall of Antwerp. That encyclopedia entry may have had much to do with my thinking that I could be artistic. (Course, my thinking and being are different things entirely.) The entry also said that the city of Antwerp made him a Baron for his contributions. For a long time I thought that made me a Baron also. Ah, youth. But I've done what I can to find out about Hendrik. It's been hard. And I haven't found out much. In reality he's hardly even an artistic footnote to artistic history. I mean the Britannica eventually deleted it's entry on him. Probably used the space for an entry on yo-yo's or something. But Antwerp named a street in his honor. They named a street for Hendrik and me. Now that I'm in Antwerp, it seems they named a street, or maybe a piece of a street, for everyone who ever set foot in Antwerp. But I find our street and it's different. I find it on 14 October and it's different. It's blocked to automobiles. Today it is just milling with people. The sidewalks on both sides of the street, and the street too. There are miscellaneous musicians scattered around. And just a jumble of people.         Two sightings of my street sign, and the sign itself...

People and musicians...

And, when I continue on down it, and to the street with a different name it becomes, I find the Stadhuis. I find it several crooked streets to the right.         Part of the route, two views of the Stadhuis...

And when I find the Antwerp Stadhuis, I look at it for a while. I look at the people and activity around it. Then I find the public entrance around the side and go in. Inside is a woman standing at kind of a counter talking to a few people nearby. It seems that she might be selling entrance to the Stadhuis, so I ask her if there is an entrance fee and pay it. Thirty Belgian franks. About sixty-seven cents. I've paid my entrance fee, and there are only a few people talking to the woman at the counter. I see an elevator, and push the button for it to meet me. I've paid my entrance fee. Time to enter. I get on the elevator and take it to the first floor. And get off. Did I expect to see a few people on the first floor? Yes. I see no one. There is absolute silence. There is no one around. I think "how cool" and start poking my head into some of the offices I find, which look like they are used for normal civic purposes throughout the week. I really like how once a person has paid the fee, they just let a person wander at will throughout the building. A building initially completed in 1565. I see an open area up ahead of me. It is a balcony around a grand staircase down below.

I take a few photographs of the staircase down below, when I discover that I need to put fresh film in my camera. I am doing that when a tour group enters below in the vicinity of the staircase. I take a few more photographs and think, "perhaps I am not supposed to be here." No one seems to see where I am and I think, "perhaps I am not supposed to be here." I find my way back to the elevator, take it down, and tell the woman who now seems to be alone at the counter "I think I have made a mistake." I explain what I have done, how I went to the first floor. She briefly raises her eyebrows, says a brief "No, no" and tells me where I can meet the tour group. Me and Hendrik have probably both been alone and free to wander in the Stadhuis. In my mind, this building is almost a cathedral. I meet the tour group in the Leys Room. No one seems to notice that I have just joined them. We continue on to the Small Leys Room. In each room, the guide gives a description in Dutch (probably Flemish, it is only right), then English, then French. He occasionally refers to a small guide book he is carrying to refresh his memory. But he has three languages to juggle, and possibly a fixed amount of time, and is good natured, but seems slightly harried.         A panel in the Leys Room, a dark room and my flash doesn't really help...

In The Small Leys Room,         the gold laurel wreath the city gave Hendrik...

In The Wedding Room, panels by Victor Lagye depict weddings through the ages.         This is an Ancient Belgian ceremony...

Secular stained glass...

The Militia Room, and with an occupation by tourists...

The Antwerp Council Chamber,         not a place we were allowed entry...

Finally, back to the door to The Leys Room...

After the tour, I ask the woman at the counter if they have any of the guide books in English for sale. She says that they are out of the guides in English, then says "Oh, wait" and rushes off. She come back, says "Wait just a moment" goes off another place, then hands me a guide book in English. It cost me 20 franks. This woman might have recalled that I had been wandering, unconstrained, around normal civic offices, and she works to produce a guide book in English when her initial thought was that they were out of them. I have had difficulties in Antwerp, may have more, but there are things I really, really like about this Antwerp, about its inhabitants. Here's another. I go for dinner at the Carlton Hotel for my second time, it has been a good day. The waiter that was there the previous time sees me enter the dining room, rushes over to me to shake my hand and bids me to enter his restaurant... I begin to ponder the possibility of living out my days here. I could easily do that.