A weekend in Ghent
Belgium’s beautiful Flemish port city puts a contemporary spin on its journey from medieval success story to industrial powerhouse to lively university city. These are the highlights of A Trip Up My Sleeve’s recent relaxed visit
Checking in: 1898 The Post Hotel
When Belgian ‘punk’ Plastic Bertrand’s vintage hit Ca Plane pour Moi struck up we knew we’d found our perfect Ghent address.
The A Trip Up My Sleeve team were drinking the first Belgian beers of the weekend on The Terrace, 1898 The Post Hotel’s chic open-air bar, which spills its tables on to Graslei harbour. This is widely agreed to be Ghent’s most idyllic waterfront spot. And since Belgium’s third largest city was established on the meeting point of two rivers, the Scheldt and the Leie, there are plenty to choose from.
In front of us, glowing in the late-August sun, lay a chocolate-box view of gabled guild houses. They were built in the medieval era when the manufacture of luxurious cloth made Ghent one of Europe’s wealthiest hubs, second in size only to Paris. Tourist boats chugged by and groups of students chatted by the river's edge.
And then suddenly toes were being tapped to this oddball, three-chord Belgian song from 1977 about drunken shenanigans, a cat called Splash and an ugly relationship break-up - and the atmosphere shifted gears to embrace humour and a bit of grit, too. Would Ghent be offering more of this? Spoiler: yes, happily it would.
1898 The Post Hotel is part of a grand-scale conversion of the city’s neo-Gothic post office, which was built in… well, it doesn’t need spelling out. And it now delivers first-class style in its own idiosyncratic way. There isn’t a main entrance. You either slip up stone steps from The Terrace, or use your guest card to open a discreet door off cafe-rich Korenmarkt square.
Inside, lofty proportions and stone staircases lend an atmosphere of almost ecclesiastical calm. Our moody-green ’Letter’ category room (right) was a little quirky. A duplex with two-storey-high windows, its toilet, basin area and shower were scattered over two levels. We loved it though. It was instantly cosy, and the bells of neighbouring St Nicholas Church barely penetrated the double-glazing. Soon we were pottering up and down stairs, getting the espresso maker on the go and making full use of the addictive Le Labo toiletries.
1898 The Post Hotel isn’t full service - a couple of Reception staff do the heavy lifting (not literally; we were on our own with our bags). It’s more B&B&B with the final B standing for ‘bar” . There’s not only The Terrace but also a clubby-natured cocktail bar The Cobbler, which gained momentum from late afternoon onwards. The name comes from the 19th-century cocktail featuring shaken, semi-crushed ice, and it’s a happy play on words given that central Ghent is mostly a cobblestone landscape. My Friday evening gambit - a Cognito, based around the Italian artichoke-y digestif Cynar - was delicious and potent. There was a mighty Belgian beer menu too with young, enthusiastic staff itching to talk us though it.
In the morning, The Cobbler serves breakfast. Despite the beckoning smell of toasting waffles, we just grabbed pineapple and melon from the supermarket that’s also part of the conversion and headed out into the city.
Because it’s the location that makes 1898 The Post Hotel perfect for a short visit. Not a moment’s wasted. You emerge at the epicentre of pedestrianised Ghent, where beautifully restored medieval buildings lie all around. Within a minute or two you’ll be weaving through packs of Instagrammers’ on viewtastic St Michael’s Bridge or admiring the 14th-century dragon that roars from the top of The Belfry.
Photographs: Ghent’s old post office, now 1898 The Post Hotel and De Post shopping centre (with handy supermarket and a Pain Quotidien cafe); a pigeon carrying a letter carved on to the hotel’s exterior wall; The Cobbler bar.
Friday night in Patershol
The flower-dotted lanes of Patershol, Ghent’s medieval quarter, straggle out from the walls of Gravensteen Castle. This is the super-stern 12th-century fortress home of the Counts of Ghent. By day, an array of torture equipment and a ‘horrible histories’-style audio guide draw tourists in droves. But now it was closed and silent. The whole area was a pioneering work of gentrification in the late 1970s when it was essentially a post-industrial slum. Now you lounge on the same lamplit corners as 17th-century tapestry weavers while nosying through elegantly-dressed windows into art galleries and cafes.
Oudbert - ‘restaurant street’ - proved a good spot to wing it without a dinner reservation. We slipped into De Bompa (Grandma’s House), a welcoming, nostalgic space that served Belgian comfort food. It was a hearty "ja” to their cod Ostend-style (a beurre blanc sauce with mussels and prawns) and stoofvlees (beef stew). Then we wandered random lanes and squares admiring Ghent’s artistic Light Plan, which highlights the city’s architectural nooks. On Vrijdagmarkt we came across a statue of 14th-century statesman Jacob van Artvelde pointing towards England. It’s a tribute to his role in safeguarding the city’s 14th-century wool trade, on which much of the Flanders region’ wealth was based. Like the city’s other statues, it fades into gloom at midnight in deference to 21st century eco-conscious priorities.
Industriemuseum (The Museum of Industry)
The grimy story of how Ghent became the Continent’s first industrialised zone is an HBO series waiting to happen. It all revolves around a dastardly spy - or local hero depending in part on which side of the English Channel you live.Ghent-born engineer Lieven Bauwens arrived in England at the very end of the 18th century to learn the secrets of how our Industrial Revolution could improve his business prospects. He took the task literally. Having bought a Spinning Mule (Samuel Crompton’s invention which mechanised cotton spinning),he dismantled it and smuggled it out of the country in 32 separate journeys hidden in bags of coffee and flour. Back in Ghent, Bauwens set up two cotton mills, and lured British engineers across the Channel to get it all working. And suddenly Belgium’s textile industry roared from home-based craft to mill-centred powerhouse, The change mirrored England’s story of huge wealth for a few, misery for many and filthy, polluted streets for all. The atmospheric Industriemuseum, which is converted from a red-brick five-storey cotton mill, holds much of the city’s original machinery. Intimidating, hulking pieces include the 24 metre-long Self Actor (above right), which was kept constantly moving, forcing barefoot child workers to dice with danger as they darted underneath to pick up threads. The top floor is a dark, evocative space with huge windows showing Ghent’s cityscape. It was pleasingly empty when we were there so we could monopolise well-produced short films of different ‘workers’ who told their own stories - right up to the young Turks who arrived in the mid-20th century. What happened to Lieven Bauwens? After intercepting a boat of Belgium-bound workers, the English authorities sentenced him to death for espionage in his absence. But of course he never returned. Instead, he became mayor of the city he had turned into the ‘Manchester of Belgium’. We came across his statue on Francois Laurent Plein the next day and raised an eyebrow to his memory.
www.industriemuseum.be/en
Leaving the museum, we used a downloadable map Traces of Industrial Ghent devised by Visit Gent to walk back to the city centre. It points out former mills and factories as well as loading spots on the canal tow path. How fascinating to learn that, in the drive to exploit every inch of city space, the Castle of the Counts built a cotton mill and 50 workers’ cottages inside its walls.
Frites for lunch
Can it really be true that the Flanders region tried to get Belgian frites added to the UNESCO list of cultural treasures? We had ordered them with Flemish stoofvlees at Da Bompa and received an approving “As it should be eaten” from our waitress. The best ones, though, came from Frites Atelier (right), a fast-food cafe launched by three-Michelin-star Flemish-Dutch chef Sergio Herman. Twice-fried and dusted with samphire salt, the frites were delicious. We could have added a few forkfuls of ‘limited edition’ carbonade to our order. But we kept things crispy and ordered a perfectly-cooked cod-fillet burger and a beef croquette instead. Ketchup and mayonnaise were hand made - the latter with Tierenteyn mustard (more about that below). Eating at a sunny table on the foodie hub Groetenmarkt, we may have been at a blatant tourist trap - but with food this good we were happy to be snared.
An hour’s shopping
A few feet away from Frites Atelier lay a local speciality with a guaranteed spot in our suitcase: Tierenteyn mustard. Made to a secret recipe inspired by an encounter with Napoleon (maybe!), it is a favourite of chefs across Europe. But is never exported. If you want it, you need to come to Ghent. Watching the mustard being ladled from a large wooden barrel into a jar then beautifully wrapped (above) in the herb-scented shop that has served customers in just the same way for 150 years was a perfect five-minute experience.
After that, we pinballed from often-quirky independent stores to artisan chocolatiers towards foodie, fashionable East District, There was just time to pop into into fashion designer Essentiel Antwerp and chic super-grocery Slageirj Aulaas, which had a joyful pavement vending machine dispensing strawberry panna cottas and Braziian vanilla puddings.
Many of Ghent’s shops are closed all Sunday and Monday am.
An architectural river walk
We’d already spent time on the Leie river, and now we were walking part of the Scheldt to discover a few architectural hotspots. Our map was heavily splashed by pink marker pen courtesy of a helpful man at the Tourist Information Centre, itself a striking building formed from the Old Fish Market. First stop was student favourite De Krook, a modernist library with the look of a steel mille-feuille. It’s part of a spirited conversation about how to add a 21st-century layer to Ghent’s cityscape. The chat continued at Klein Begijnhof, a walled enclave of 17th- and 18th-century houses built to protect beguines.These were women who lived independent, devout lives without male guardians or taking nun’s vows. Now new, wealthy occupants were moving in. “They’re a million euros for a 65-year-lease. “ explained a smiling woman who emerged, pushing her bicycle, on to Lange Violettestraat. “You can’t leave them to your children, but they’re a wonderful way to enjoy the city’s culture.” Along the waterfront, we saw signs that other Ghent residents were living their best lives - dangling balconies, lush gardens and a wonderful moored barge with hot tub.
De Krook: photo by Wernervc, Creative Commons
A beer in a ‘brown’ pub
A laidback beer in a traditional ‘brown bar’ is an essential Belgian experience. We seized ours when we stumbled across Trappistenhuis, on Brabantdam, a peaceful side street on the walk back to the centre. As it was only 4pm we thought we’d try alcohol-free beer. La Trappe Nillis, a caramel-y, malty Trppist beer, and light, refreshing Ramon (pictured) were recommended by a barman who confided that he had sampled more than 100 beers from the menu, and were well worth half an hour of our time. And the company on the bar’s pavement tables was genial: a scattering of chilled-looking locals checking their phones and laughing together at the appearance of a preposterous ‘beer bike’, which blasted oompah music as it trundled past.
Saturday night at LOF Restaurant
Ghent’s most raved-about restaurants tend to be tiny, and getting a booking can be tricky. We struggled even a month in advance, but got lucky with a friend’s recommendation for LOF. This elegant, softly lit restaurant is set into a Louis XIV-style ‘manor house’ that’s now Pillows Hotel. The choice was confined to tasting menus devised by Hannes Vandebotermet. We were happy to let a lengthy list of artfully combined ingredients, from herring to asparagus to sea buckthorn berries, drift to our corner table accompanied by attentive waiters armed with carefully-scripted descriptions. A delightful experience from start (a sparkling cocktail made with roomer, Ghent’s own elderflower liqueur) to - “well, maybe just one more coconut marshmallow” - finish.
Sunday morning flower market
The bagpipes were a surprise. Most Sunday mornings a flower market accompanied by a free concert - brass or big band - takes place at the Kouter. This 19th-century square, where the bourgeoisie promenaded and showed off their wealth, was a charming backdrop for pots of gerbera and eupatorium. Friends had tipped us off about De Blauwe Kiosk, which sells champagne and oysters to enhance the music. But our luck was out. As the Flemish Caledonian Pipes & Drums kicked off with I See Mull, a dark raincloud appeared and let loose its cargo, and we scurried off to find a cafe.
Museum voor Schone Kunst (The Fine Art Museum)
Ghent artists flooded out of the smoggy city in the late 19th century. A collection of their romanticised paintings of nearby villages and farmland caught our eye here, particularly De Tutigny by Jenny Montigny, below. This came after an engaging stroll through earlier Flemish art from Hieronymus Bosch, Pieter Bruegel and Anthony Van Dyck.
The museum is set in Citadel Park, and a walk here helps to understand that Ghent as we see it today was actually modified and ‘framed’ for us 120 years ago. Ghent was given the role of hosts of the 1913 World Fair - these were huge events which drew visitors from all around the globe. The theme Ghent had pitched was the culturization of an industrial city. In preparations, medieval buildings were renovated and ‘beautified’. Graslei harbour was a particular beneficiary. And squares were improved and even created - Korenmarkt were built for the Fair. The gothic-style post office - now our hotel - was part of the design. The icing on the Belgian bun was St Michael’s Bridge, which was constructed to give visitors the best view possible of this new romantic, idealised version of medieval Ghent.
St Bavo’s Cathedral
Our final stop-off before we headed to the train station was St Bavo’s Cathedral. This was by way of an apology to artists Hubert and Jan Van Eyck since we hadn’t found time to view their 15th-century masterpiece The Ghent Altarpiece aka the Adoration of the Mystic Lamb. Behind the cathedral, this monument to the brothers (which was also erected for the 1913 World Fair) was buzzing as children raced around an attractively-planted play area that brought medieval Ghent into the modern, thriving city. Next time!
How to do the trip
Buy Eurostar tickets via eurostar.com. An Any Belgian Station ticket includes onward travel from Brussels Midi/Zuid station by Eurostar. It was very straightforward to hop off Eurostar and on to a Ghent train. The name of the station that appears on information boards is Gent St Pieters and there were several trains an hour. Leaving the station at Ghent, we walked ahead to the No1 tram stop and bought 2.5 euro tickets using Contactless at the stop. We got off at St Nicholas’ Church. It couldn’t have been easier.
Hotel reservations: 1898thepost.com.
Tourist information: visitgent.com.