ANTWERP, Belgium -- Cafe terraces overflow with late-night revelers, a warren of ancient streets glows with gentle yellow lamplight, Latin rhythms escape across the waterfront while the aroma of kebabs, couscous and paella tantalize the taste buds.
Antwerp on a rare warm evening is disorienting. You know you're really in an industrious North Sea port, but somehow it feels the city has drifted to the shores of the Mediterranean.After serving for centuries as one of the great gateways to northern Europe, this city has a cosmopolitan flair that goes beyond the Italian, Spanish, Greek and Moroccan restaurants that compete with traditional Belgian eateries serving mountains of mussels with fries in the old high-gabled Flemish houses of the old town.
Antwerp's southern feel is historical. This was once a Spanish city, part of the 16th century empire that stretched from Madrid to Manila, Mexico to Belgium.
That legacy can still be found in the baroque flourishes of the city's churches and the nickname proudly borne by local citizens -- sinjoren, a reminder of the aristocratic "senors" who once held sway here.
One thing the Spanish didn't leave behind was their weather. Although Antwerpers love to make the most of their few hot summer days, the Atlantic drizzle and the northern winds blowing chill across the Dutch polders all too frequently send them scurrying for shelter in the city's countless cozy beerhouses.
Fortunately, the city also has enough treasures to distract the visitor even when the sun is not shining. This Cinderella city of Low Country tourism is often neglected as just a workaday seaport, but it can rival Bruges for medieval charm, outshine Brussels for style and culture and match Amsterdam for vivacious streetlife.
Antwerp's heart is the Grote Markt, a great triangular market square fronted on one side by the flamboyant renaissance town hall and flanked on the others by merchant houses from the city's golden age, their lofty facades crowned with burnished gold-leaf statues. Looking down on it all is the lacy stonework of the 406-foot tower of the Onze-Lieve-Vrouwe Cathedral, a gothic masterpiece decorated inside with vast religious paintings by Rubens, the city's most famous son.
All around is a maze of cobbled streets and alleyways that lead to tree-lined plazas where locals gather to enjoy a "bolleke" -- a goblet of Antwerp's famed De Koninck ale, a classic in a country that treats beer with the respect the French reserve for wine.
While the old town's ambience and architecture are an obvious draw, much of Antwerp's charm lies in secret treasures. A look into a quiet backstreet church can reveal another spectacular Rubens. An archway leads off a teeming sidewalk into a renaissance courtyard where the air is filled with Mozart and cafe tables are laden with gargantuan servings of Flemish cheese or Ardennes ham.
The Meir is Antwerp's main street, an elegant pedestrian drag bustling with shoppers. Just a few yards and four centuries away is the Rubenshuis, the painter's reconstructed mansion where the cool chambers and classical garden offer a haven of peace.
In the little Mayer van den Bergh museum, a very different artistic surprise awaits. Dimly lighted corridors lead to one of Europe's most disturbing art treasures -- Dulle Griet, or Mad Meg, Pieter Breugel's apocalyptic vision of a crazed woman prowling a war-ravaged landscape.
Antwerp is not all Old Masters. In the 1990s the city has enjoyed an artistic renaissance, led by a new generation of fashion designers. The eclectic creations of Anne Demeulemeester, Dries Van Noten, Walter Van Beirendonck, et al, are acclaimed on catwalks from Tokyo to Milan. They can be found in their hometown in the stylish boutiques around Nationalestraat, Lombardenvest and Schuttershofstraat.
South of downtown, new contemporary arts and photography museums have invigorated the Zuid neighborhood, where avant-garde galleries, trendy bars and fashionable designer stores compete for space. Local architect Bob Van Reeth has stamped his mark on the city with the landmark Zuiderterras restaurant, a glass cube that dominates the harborfront and provides good food to go with the spectacular views of the river Schelde.
The Schelde is the lifeline to a city that is Europe's second-largest seaport, but lies 40 miles from the sea. Farther along the river bank in the old sailors' district around Falconplein, Arab traders sell cheap hi-fis and vodka to Russian seamen. Officially tolerated prostitutes gaze out of neon-lit windows a few blocks from the old town where plaster Madonnas look down from almost every street corner as a reminder of Antwerp's deep Catholic heritage.
Antwerp glitters in the least likely places. The underside of a grimy railroad bridge shines with the glow of a thousand diamond rings from the row of jewelers lining Pelikaanstraat. The little store fronts are just a taste of Antwerp's diamond district. Billions of dollars worth of gems -- two-thirds the world's diamond trade -- are bought and sold behind the discreet facades of the august exchanges.
The diamond trade is the traditional domain of Antwerp's large Jewish community. After a deadly 1981 car-bomb attack on the local synagogue, the center of the diamond district was closed to traffic. Now Hassidic traders fly by on bicycles, their black coats flapping behind when they head off for latkes or choulent at Hoffy's renowned kosher restaurant.
Although its centuries-old reputation for tolerance and openness has been dented in recent years by the recent electoral success of the nationalist, anti-immigration Flemish Bloc, Antwerp has lost nothing of its melting pot effervescence. Its heady blend of ancient and modern, Flemish tradition and southern style should ensure it a place on any Low Country tour.