waffles, wonder & one weird hand.

Hello peeps!

To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect when I booked four days in Antwerp, Belgium. A diamond or two? Yes. Some waffles? Absolutely. But what I got was a little architectural romance, a few chocolate-fueled revelations, and a city that somehow balanced grandeur with quirk like a fashionista on a cobblestone runway. Here’s how Antwerp sneakily became my new obsession.

day 1: trains, cathedrals & that first fry high.

I arrived at Antwerp Central Station, and no exaggeration — my jaw dropped. This was not a train station. This was a palace masquerading as public transit. I stood there, neck craned, mumbling “Is this allowed?” like some underdressed tourist at a royal ball. Honestly, if I missed my train connection forever, I’d die happy staring at that domed ceiling.

From there, I wandered toward the De Kathedraal District, the heart of old Antwerp. It's one of those places that feels like walking through a storybook — cobbled lanes, gabled rooftops, cafés perched on every corner. And then bam — Cathedral of Our Lady rises like a gothic mic drop. Even though I planned to go inside another day, I stood there for a solid five minutes pretending I was in a historical drama. (In this version, I was wearing something much more elegant and eating fewer fries.)

I checked into a quirky little hotel tucked away down a quiet side street — the kind with eclectic lighting, fancy ID and the wannabe green-sustainability hotel. Instantly declared it “home” and took a nap that was, quite frankly, Olympic-level.

Dinner was fries (of course), hot chocolate (when in Belgium), and eavesdropping on a group of stylish Belgians having a very passionate debate about mayonnaise. I didn’t catch much, but I felt it.

day 2: rubens, runways & ridiculous amounts of sugar.

Started the day at Rubenshuis, which, in case you didn’t know, is where Peter Paul Rubens — the man, the myth, the curly-haired Baroque legend — actually lived and worked. His house is now a museum, and it’s so elaborate I briefly wondered if it was rude to touch the doorknobs. (I didn’t. But I wanted to.)

Then, with the maturity of someone who skipped breakfast, I headed straight to The Chocolate Line — a place that takes chocolate so seriously, there are pralines infused with wasabi, basil and apparently one inspired by Napoleon? I bought six. Ate five on the way out. No regrets.

To double down on sugar, I made a quick pit stop at Philip’s Biscuits, where the scent of butter and caramel made me question whether I'd ever really lived before this moment. Bought two packs of Antwerpse Handjes — shortbread cookies shaped like hands, which ties into a legend I still only half understand but fully support. (More on that later.)

Next stop, MoMu — the Fashion Museum of Antwerp. It’s sleek, it’s sharp, and it made me very aware that I was wearing grandmother Sketchers that looked like they’d fought in a war. Antwerp takes fashion seriously. Even the mannequins look like they’re judging you. I loved it.

In the late afternoon, I walked off my cookie-induced euphoria at the iconic Museum aan de Stroom (MAS). This museum is a red-brick-and-glass marvel and climbing its escalators feels like ascending through time — each floor a chapter of Antwerp’s identity. The top floor? Panoramic views of the city that made me clutch my chest like an old-timey widow. Antwerp, you beautiful skyline minx.

day 3: coffee, canvases & chocolate confessions.

Breakfast at Nordica 31 was everything. Scandinavian-style interiors, perfect coffee, and a croissant that melted my cynicism. I sat there pretending to journal, but mostly just stared at people who looked far more awake than me.

Then, it was museum time. First up: Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA). Recently reopened and absolutely stunning. I saw works that made me emotional and one painting of a bicycle that looked suspiciously like my childhood bike. Art does things to you, man.

Next, the Museum of Contemporary Art Antwerp (MHKA) — which, unlike me, knows exactly what it’s doing. It’s bold, weird, and refreshing. I left full of thoughts like, “What is perception?” and “Should I go bald?”

Feeling fancy and philosophical, I rented a scooter (after a brief but passionate battle with the app) and zipped toward the Nieuw Havenhuis, designed by the infamous architect Zaha Hadid. This futuristic, angular building looks like a spaceship landed on top of a historic fire station. It’s basically Antwerp’s way of saying, “Yes, we have architecture. And yes, we’re that cool.”

Then… I gave in. I went to Chocolate Nation — Europe’s largest Belgian chocolate museum. It’s part history lesson, part sensory overload, and entirely delicious. You walk through an immersive cocoa journey and taste things at every stop. I don’t remember much after the third tasting, but I think I proposed to a praline.

Naturally, I ended the day shopping for chocolate. Like, real shopping. The kind where you tell yourself it’s “for friends” but you know 80% of it is never leaving your suitcase.

day four: books, scooter & heading back with a suitcase of stories.

It’s my last day in Antwerp, and I can already feel that weird emotional cocktail of satisfaction and mild mourning. You know, when your body’s like, “We should go home,” but your heart’s like, “Or… we just live here now?”

Determined to make the most of it, I rented an electric scooter and pedaled along the Scheldt River, catching glimpses of cranes, joggers, and one man playing the accordion like his life depended on it. Looped through Park Spoor Noord, waved at a dog (who ignored me — classic), and mentally bookmarked about five cafés I didn’t have time to try.

One last cultural hit: the Plantin-Moretus Museum, which sounds niche but is weirdly captivating. This place holds some of the oldest printing presses in the world, and the vibe is pure historical ASMR — creaky floors, shelves of ancient books, and that intoxicating smell of ink, leather, and secrets. I wandered through, fully convinced I’d have thrived in the 16th century. (Assuming I could still have Wi-Fi.)

Lunch was at Normo, a sleek café where people actually look cool drinking filter coffee. I tried to blend in, but my “I’m leaving town soon” energy betrayed me. Spilled some oat milk, laughed at myself, and soaked in one last moment of Antwerp café calm.

Then it was time. Back to the train station — my old friend Antwerp Central — suitcase heavier (thank you, chocolate), heart fuller. The train pulled out of the station, and just like that, I was heading home to Rotterdam, staring out the window, already replaying the highlights in my head like a slow montage. (Queue Emir’s travel playlist.)

Cathedrals. Fashion. Museums. Waffles. Random moments of awe. That statue is throwing a hand. (Still not over that.) Antwerp gave me everything I didn’t know I needed: a mini adventure, a full camera roll, and a reminder that sometimes the best trips aren’t about ticking off landmarks, but letting a city surprise you one sweet, cobbled step at a time.

Antwerp is the kind of city that doesn’t scream for attention — it just exists, confidently and beautifully. One moment you’re sipping an espresso in a café that looks like a design magazine, the next you’re in a 400-year-old room staring at Rubens' brushstrokes or dodging cyclists with suspiciously good hair.

There’s chocolate everywhere, stories in the streets, and architecture that makes you feel small in the best way. I came for the waffles and left wondering if I could pull off living here part-time. (Dear Belgian immigration: call me.)

If you’re looking for a city with history, style, soul, and dangerously addictive biscuits shaped like hands, Antwerp is waiting.

Just… pack stretchy pants.

Until next adventure!
EMIR xx