June 22, 2022. Even though it was hot and I hadn’t slept well, we had had a special solstice watching the sunset and I was grateful to be here. Hendrik had set me up with a mosquito net over the bed since due to the heat we needed to leave the windows open. And Katharina had an ingenious solution to the heat – she had set up a tent in the middle of the living room.

As usual I was in search of a good latte, and discovered a great coffee spot in a bike shop called Batia just below Hendrik’s apartment. Batia made really good lattes, and though it took a while, they were worth the wait. There I met Ralph there, an urban planner/architect who shared what he loves about Ghent—how it feels like an urban village with so much creativity. We chatted for a while, and I got his email and sent him a thank-you note later. Turned out, he’d paid for my coffee without telling me. The barista asked if I knew him and I said no—we’d just met. Such a kind gesture. Around 11:30, Hendrik and I set off on bikes for the downtown. For Hendrik and most Ghentians, bike is the main form of transportation at least for local trips.

On the way, we stopped at the remains of an old abbey—destroyed, but the hedgerows still mark the layout of where the church stood. It’s only open on weekends, so I didn’t get to go in, but I liked seeing the ruins and weaving through the hedges with our bikes.

In town, Hendrik pointed out the three famous towers of Ghent: that of St Bavo’s Cathedral, Ghent Belfry, and St Nicholas’ Church. He suggested I do the 40-minute boat trip so I could see the city and get an orientation while he took the fold-up bike back home—he was worried it’d get stolen. The boat guide spoke Dutch, French, and English. Not too much info, but enough—he talked about the old grain storage, the meat and fish halls, and how they used to open the locks to flood the enemy during sieges. Hendrik met me after, and we walked through the beguinage where women once lived in a cloister. Ghent has 3 beguinages, with two, the Old St Elizabeth Beguinage and the Small Beguinage Our Lady ter Hoyen recognized as UNESCO World Heritage sites. We passed the gate where the canal used to continue and ended up in a poorer neighborhood where I stopped at a café run by a deaf man—he kindly let me use the bathroom. From there we made our way back.

June 23. I had a latte at Batia and met Katharina back at the flat around 10:30. We talked for till 1:30 when she left for Brussels to usher at the opera. We shared stories about our fathers—hers had survived a concentration camp, and we talked about the lingering wounds that had left on her and her family. I cried. She told me, “Be comfortable. Don’t be careful—stay as long as you wish.” That meant a lot. I felt totally at ease after that.

Once she left, I headed into town solo and went into the Prinsenhof, the official residence of the Counts of Flanders from the 15th century after the Gravensteen fell into disuse. Completely rebuilt by Philip the Good (1396–1467) who lived there in his youth, and birthplace of Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor in 1500. Today only the postern gate survives. It had been converted into a bar and job-sharing space with hydroponics.

I spent the rest of the day wandering around the old town of Ghent. It was easy to get lost—in the best possible way.

June 24. At 1:30 Hendrik and I arrived at the Ghent City Museum (STAM). I stayed until they kicked me out at 5:15. Katy and Kristof, who worked there, were super kind and told me I could come back if I let their colleague know they’d said so. They were preparing for a lawyer’s Roaring 20s party to celebrate a 20th anniversary—fancy catering and all. They seemed anxious about it.

The museum was fascinating. I learned so much and definitely wanted to return. Afterward, I biked along the canal to the Turkish neighborhood. Got kebabs and chatted with two super friendly Turkish guys who owned the shop—they encouraged me to travel more around the Mediterranean. The conversation lifted my spirits. They even helped replace my cracked phone screen protector.

Later, near the historical center, I bought some baklava. The guy had charged me €9.50, cash only. I changed my mind about the sweet treat as it seemed unusually expensive, but he’d already packed it. Haunted me for days. I got back around 9 p.m. and had a relaxed evening chatting with Hendrik and Katharina. They regaled me with laughter. Katharina was wiped out from her long day in Brussels.

June 25. I hung out with Hendrik until about 1 p.m. before heading to the Museum Voor Schone Kunsten Gent in Citadel Park. The woman at the desk didn’t accept my college/student card—said age mattered with defiance. She proceeded to indicate that half the museum was closed for painting. I inquired if there might be a discount. She barked no.

I left my bag downstairs and started with the Flemish Primitives—Memling, Van Eyck, and others. There were altar retables, religious art, and works laid out chronologically, tracing the influence of the Italian Renaissance, nobility portraiture, scenes of peasant life, moralistic works, impressionism… all the way to some sculpture at the end. It was well curated and carried me through till closing at 4:30.

After that, I wandered through Citadelpark. I learned that it was created in 1875 where the Dutch citadel of Ghent formerly stood, built between 1819 and 1831. The citadel, one of the largest and most modern in Europe at the time, was later used as an infantry and artillery barracks and demolished to make way for the 1913 World Expo in Ghent. Many buildings were constructed for the Expo, the Floralies Palace the most famous.

I wandered around the park, enjoying the follies that remained from the Expo. I continued my walk and stumbled across the Ghent University botanical gardens—a total surprise that they were free and open! I followed some folks into the Victoria Greenhouse, where I discovered tropical and subtropical rooms teaming with all manner of plants, including succulents and carnivorous ones. Out in the garden, I particularly enjoyed the American and Asian sections, and seeing familiar trees like redwoods was oddly comforting. A mother duck and her duckling were hanging out near the pond.

I saw a map showing heat zones in Ghent—so many areas are scorching due to concrete, lack of trees, and dense building. I also noticed a lot of litter, which surprised me. When I asked my friends about it later, they said it’s a big issue—student groups now volunteer to clean the parks because the gardeners have stopped doing it. I wouldn’t have expected that in Belgium… the trash, the environmental disregard. I guess all places have their challenges.