Gay doctor opens B-and-B in Villa Tinto mega-brothel penthouse

Were you confident that you’d read it all when you browsed my previous posts on legalized prostitution or eccentric, filthy rich gay couples in Antwerp, Belgium? Read on, it just got weirder. [Image courtesy GVA]

GVA, a local Antwerp newspaper [original article in Dutch] reports that Frederik and Hein, a local gay couple (one of them an MD, specialized in botox treatments…] bought the huge, upscale but utterly extravagant penthouse on top of Antwerp’s infamous Villa Tinto mega brothel back in 2006, a Guggenheim style loft that had been vacant for ages. It was probably one of the most controversial penthouses in town, but Dr Hein Knapen found the location “not an issue” when he opened his medical cabinet right on top of the largest high-tech legal brothel in Europe. As there was still some space left, the enterprising gay couple recently started an additional B&B in one of their spare rooms. Dr Knapen proudly mentioned during the interview that one of his first B&B guests was an 80 yo woman who, along with her daughters, “just loved the amazing view”. I guess 50 female prostitutes knocking each night at their windows can be considered a “warm homecoming” experience, especially if you’re a gay ‘botox’ Doctor, renting out your cozy Bed and Breakfast penthouse rooms. Quote: “those red lights create a perfect atmosphere. And the view is just breath-taking”. [Update: this cute couple started a website recently: http://www.villat.be]

I’m speechless. Are you? [If you are, it may be the Botox ]

True Love, airbrushed in gold

If you happen to live in an historic area of a major European city, street artists are probably a common sight.

The area surrounding Antwerp cathedral does pull a rather unusual variety though: artists who go to great lengths trying to become a living copy of the countless statues that have graced this medieval part of town for centuries.

Most use body paint to blend in, but this rather uncommon couple made every effort to stand out.

Airbrushed in gold, they did not try to evoke yet another historic scene, but seemed quite satisfied to portray a tale of unconditional love.

While I just loved the concept of their act, I’ve had my share of street artists in front of my home door.

Imagine carrying partly torn grocery bags on your way home, only to find out that yet another busload of videotaping Japanese tourists is blocking your way passed the cathedral, giving you a determined “no pasaran” look. Having learned from passed experiences, I usually just go with the flow, blend in and start taking snapshots myself. I wonder, how often do you feel like you’re living in an amusement park?

The lost bride

Guess what happened to this distressed “all dressed up and nowhere to go”
bride, smoking a cigarette right in front of Antwerp Cathedral. Most unusual
scene..   Shot taken last Sunday, August 26, 2007 [click to enlarge]

Brainwashing America: FOX-tv attacks Iran

Fight Back against the lies, America: hit warmongering FOX-TV news where in hurts: in their pockets - visit http://foxattacks.com/iran

Quote:

“This is utterly wrong: the so-called “free press” is supposed to be a major check on unbridled government power, not a cheerleader for their worst policies. It shows that the mega-corporations that the Bush administration owes its primary allegiance to - the only players gaining anything from the continued occupation of Iraq - include the media conglomerates, especially Fox.“

Sign the open letter to the major television networks in the USA urging them to not follow FOX’s lead to another war. The video shows the evidence of how they are repeating the same distortions and fear mongering they did before the Iraq war.

Belgium never invaded another country or initiated/ sustained a senseless war. If you’re a US citizen, how do you cope with an administration that feeds on a never ending state of war abroad? Unfortunately, most Americans in Belgium I know personally choose to blissfully ignore whatever the facts may be, frightened to bite the hand that feeds them.

The Gay Clinic?

If you’re a regular reader, you probably know that I’m currently being treated for a spinal injury.
Selecting a clinic from the ample choice available in Antwerp proved difficult, but this photo on
one of their websites immediately convinced me. Just look at the way this ‘patient’ and male nurse
are smiling at each other: when were you last treated with so much ‘adoration’? Little did I know
the clinic paid a Serbian soccer player (left) and a model (right) for this fake PR shot. Reality check:
I’m being treated by Antwerp ‘Helga’ (her name says it all) and many patients arrive in wheelchairs.

So much for my “gay nurse” fantasy. How’s your MD treating you?

Warning: violent storm will hit within five minutes

While waiting for their wreck-diving mother at Arromanches, France, these Belgian 5 year-olds had no idea a truly violent storm would flood this beach within minutes after I took this shot. We had to run for cover. The European summer of 2007 has been unusually wet and chilly.

The speed and direction of tidal currents in Normandy are extremely treacherous: pristine beaches can be flooded within minutes, much to the surprise of visitors. Several wreck dives on sunken WWII vessels had to be canceled due to upcoming stormy weather.  Photo: A piece of the “Mulberry Harbour” used to unload Allied equipment and troops after the D-Day invasion, broken up in +100 huge parts, all still visible in the bay at Arromanches, 63 years later. I wonder, would you ever consider visiting this area?

Terror alert at US WWII cemetery?

Visiting the impressive US owned Omaha Beach American Cemetery (Colleville-sur-mer, Normandy, France) and brand new US government multimedia memorial last Friday, I found it to be a spotless, thought provoking experience about World War II, although the airport-strength security at the US$30 million (video) multi-media memorial (including metal detectors) could also be considered as a sad reminder how paranoid the current political climate in the US has become. Most French/British (and a couple of US) visitors looked with amazement/increasing irritation how they were forced to have their personal belongings checked when entering a US cemetery..

There obviously was no ‘terror alert’, but let’s get real guys: a US WWII cemetery at the French coast doesn’t need to be protected from imaginary terror attacks. Checking all visitors for metal (and explosives?) basically induces needless fear, an emotion most inappropriate at this place of remembrance.

Even the 5 yo children of a couple diving on the WWII wrecks in the bay at Arromanches (yes, I was baby-sitting ) were impressed looking at the sheer magnitude of the site. We handled the ‘dead’-'war’ issue quite upfront and they coped with it without any problems, although I’m convinced they forgot all about it when their mother returned with a smile (and ice cream cones) from her wreck diving trip

The last World War II victim: D-Day Aug 20, 2007

I’m back in town after a most memorable week along the “D-Day” coast of Normandy, France. A coastline where Patrick, an experienced diver from divingschool Albatros became the latest victim of World War II.

No, He didn’t suffer fatal injuries while heroically trying to salvage an Italian tourist who hadn’t got a clue that “trespassing beyond barbed wire” may prove fatal at Pointe d’Hoc. Nor did he try to save his diving buddy Dirk, stuck at -30m in some invasion wreck in the bay at Arromanches, in a desperate effort to find the last hidden treasures that are long sealed behind glass at the D-Day museum I passed daily (but didn’t bother visiting).

No, you definitely won’t see a statute with Patrick’s name embossed in gold platted characters erected along Omaha beach. He will only be remembered as that older, slightly soft-spoken Belgian diver who (of all things) managed to cut his leg real bad at a dumb water tap while changing his wetsuit… He was rushed to the ER of Bayeux hospital late this afternoon.

We won’t even try to laugh. Promise. But you can

Cashing in on D-Day 1944, Normandy, France

I’m typing this post from a French hotel room-with-a-truly-spectacular-sea-view (and unprotected Wi-Fi), almost overlooking what used to be known as Omaha Beach, Normandy, France, way back on that early morning of June 6, 1944. But it’s a sunny day in Aug 2007, and unlike the busloads of tourists flooding the small town of Arromanches, I’m here with a group of divers who are actually diving on the countless wrecks scattered along the most famous part of Normandy. The views and my personal experiences have been just plain awesome, but while some parts of this coast have salvaged the true solemn memories of all those Americans, British and Canadians who gave their lives to free Europe from WWII Nazi occupation, too much of this coastal area has been turned into a cash-cow, a tourist attraction where graves have turned into a money spinning crowd puller. It was a disconcerting sight, watching 12 year olds drop ice-cream cones on WWII graves. In sharp contrast, the impressive US owned Omaha Beach American Cemetery and multimedia memorial was spotless, although the airport-strength security (including metal detectors) could be considered a sad reminder how paranoid the current political climate in the US has become. Let’s get real guys: a cemetery doesn’t need to be protected from imaginary attacks…

Expect several rather spectacular (but more respectful) pictures as soon as I get back home

Please hold

Please hold until I work on my next post, way
too much going on in that busy life of mine

Sex, lies and videotape, part two

This is not going to be an easy write up, partly due to the physical damage ‘m trying to cope with.

To start off with, let me link to the tittle. In the movie “Sex, Lies, and Videotape” (1989), a sexually repressed woman’s husband is having an affair with her sister. The arrival of a visitor with a rather unusual video taping fetish changes everything.

My story is even more bizarre. Unfortunately, Belgian privacy laws prevent me from posting a coherent, comprehensive story.

From the Internet Movie Database files:
“Sex, Lies and Videotape will probably strike the average viewer as irredeemably degenerate, maybe even perverted, since voyeurism is still considered aberrant behavior. But as far as this film is concerned, that’s the appearance, not the reality. Whereas the drama revolves to a certain extent around the voyeuristic masturbation of an impotent man, the heart and soul of the film is an unrelenting, hard driving psychological siege on the biggest erogenous zone of all: the brain.

This film is about sex. But it’s not about the frothy swapping of fluids and feelings. It’s about honesty, without which one can’t have intimacy, which is to sexual stimulation what the water valve is to the hydrant. From beginning to end, we see this theme brought into focus by the dramatic contrast between two different relationships – the one based on lies and deceit, the other based upon honesty. And guess which one wins out in the long run?

In a sense, it’s what your mother and Sunday school teacher taught you all along. But what makes this movie way more interesting than your mother or Sunday school teacher is the level of honesty it suggests is necessary as the basis of a healthy relationship. Ann (Andy McDowell), for example, an acceptably moral person tells the voyeuristic masturbator `You got a problem.’ He replies by adding that he has a lot of problems. But, he says, `They belong to me.’

OK. So I’ve had a long running friendship with ****, my ex-diving instructor who, not really to my sheer astonishment, recently started basing part of our social contact on lies and deceit, as he feels that hiding his profoundly immoral behaviour is the only way to keep our ‘friendship’ intact. I know about his sexually extreme, deviant behaviour, I asked him to stop lying to me about it, to stop hurting the people who ignorantly will be physically harmed by his urges, to get help for his addiction. He won’t move. He’s living a lie, convinced that I’m unable to cope with the detailed, gruesome truth (in all honesty, I’m aware of those details, and it would turn my stomach if I were to focus on them). In a way, we’re both ignoring the utmost unpleasant reality. But he’s the “perpetrator”, I’m the ever more distant, ever more silent witness.

Having been a part of my social life for years makes it real hard to “just cut the cord”.

Quote: “Somehow, the openness about one’s problems renders their bile and poison ineffective. `Lilies that fester,’ said Shakespeare, `smell far worse than weeds.’ “

But if openness failed, where do you draw the line? [my photo: Antwerp riverbanks at night in July, not far away from my home]

The Dutch food massacre

I’m sure we’re all aware that culinary differences around the globe can be astonishing. What some people consider to be a delicacy others wouldn’t feed to their dog. But still, can a 30 mile drive make the difference between really great food (as found in my hometown Antwerp, Belgium) and truly disgusting food, as often being served in neighboring Holland? Yes, it can.

I spent the weekend in blazing sunshine near yet another upscale marina in Southern Holland with some friends from my former diving school. 30°C/90°F after a chilly and wet month of July, perfect company and not too many physical discomforts: the setting for a great time at the truly beautiful Dutch coast. Unfortunately, we were still trying to hold on to the belief at least one restaurant would serve us something decent. We were wrong.

Let me quote the Guardian to set the mood:

The quintessential Dutch food experience is the FEBO snack automat. These are great walls of heated compartments, all clad in shiny chrome, brightly lit and impeccably clean. Drop a coin in the slot and the door of your chosen compartment flicks open, disgorging some lump of tasteless deep-fried mystery-meat apologetically sweating grease into its cardboard carton. Nowhere illustrates better the Dutch love of scrubbed cosiness and efficiency and their total indifference to the pleasures of the palate.

This sense of culinary anticlimax is everywhere in the country. I will never forget buying what I hoped was a spicy pasty in Rotterdam, only to find that it was filled with nothing but white sauce. Likewise the day a Dutch flatmate cooked us what she swore was a delicious traditional dish, then brought in a pan of reconstituted powdered mash, kale and tinned frankfurters. Even the more appealing Dutch treats, such as double-fried chips with mayonnaise, are spoilt by lack of care: the oil for the second frying is often stale, while the mayo is a form of sickly, watery industrial run-off.

Advice from a Dutch native on the expat “Just Landed” forum:
“We have typical dutch food but that’s actually a reason not to visit Holland… However, because our food is so disgusting, we have many italian, chinese, vietnameese, indonesian, greek, turkish etc. restaurants and diners.”

OK, I’m no ignorant tourist, so we all went ‘upscale’ and decided to ignore the price and chose ‘real quality’.

The ‘food’ pictured in my photo above graced my plate after I ordered an “authentic salade Niçoise” near the marina in Goes, Holland: two slices of tomato, parts of an hard-boiled egg, two slices of cucumber, one cherry, all on top of one spoon of what looked like foul smelling blended tuna from a tin.

We immediately sent back the ‘dish’, left the ‘marina restaurant’ and decided to do what all Belgian divers do when visiting Holland: light our own BBQs. At your right: the real “salade Niçoise” from Deliaonline in London. Any advice on finding a decent meal without getting ripped off would be appreciated

Busted

Due to spinal damage I intend to take a few days rest. It’s rather hard to blog with one hand, while manipulating images requires fine motor skills that I’m currently trying to regain.

Yes, I’ve got excellent doctors, and yes, the problem may, but probably will not be partially resolved within the following weeks/months. I was disappointed by the “no show” attitude of many former close ‘friends’ (thanks to those who did not show up at all - for some men, their testosterone can destroy even the closest friendships) and elated to be assisted by those I least expected to. But rest assured: when I’m clear awake at 3am, I will not hesitate to dish the dirt on all the subjects you love reading about