This means several posts about Belgium, sorry (plus an entire albumful of photos).
I'd purchased one of Eurostar's Any Belgian Station tickets. Lasttime I did this you recommended I went to Ghent, so I went toGhent. This time I went to your second-choice option. Cracking suggestion, thanks.
Antwerp is Belgium's most populous city. It's located about 30 miles north of Brussels, very close to the border with the Netherlands. It's a major port, an Olympic host city and the hub of the global diamond industry. In French it's called Anvers, but because it lies in the Flemish half of Belgium the locals call it Antwerpen because that's the Dutch. I got to spend seven hours in the city, which is pretty good for a day trip from London. And I arrived via what's sometimes described as the most beautiful railway station in Europe.
How often do you get to visit a triple decker station? That's properly triple decker, with the lines stacked up on top of each other and simultaneously visible? AntwerpCentral didn't start out that way in 1905, it was simply the terminus of the line from Brussels, but a very major upgrade began in 1998 to allow inter city trains to pass through without reversing. Engineers retained the original glass and steel arched roof, itself hugely impressive, and dug down to create additional platforms at lower levels. High speed trains and connections from Brussels arrive down in the depths, which are admittedly a bit Stygian, but that's where your grand ascent to the surface begins.
The first set of escalators leads to a crossover walkway deep within the station box, then a second flight leads up through the middle of an open atrium. I was in a hurry so took the adjacent staircase rather than queueing for the escalators, but I now realise that this was a rookie error. This particular set of escalators flattens out in the middle then rises again, which is properly unusual, but I have at least consoled myself by watching this video of what I missed. Four platforms on Level -1 host terminating tracks, then it's up again to an admin'n'shopping mezzanine and street-level exit, then up again to six further high level platforms (this being the elevation of the original station). In central London only St Pancras comes close.
Step through the intricately imposing facadewith the clock and you discover... another intricately imposing facade with a clock. The ticket hall is an entirely separate space, complete with marble tiled floor and lofty dome, perhaps more reminiscent of a cathedral or concert hall than a city station. I confess I wowed a little. And the entire Antwerp Central complex is free to explore, even all the way back down to the lowest platforms, because Belgian stations aren't blighted with anything so restrictive as ticket barriers. Just remember to leave and take a look around the rest of the city too, else you'll miss the most diamond-geezer-friendly attraction of all.
Antwerp lies on the River Scheldt, a major waterway navigable from northern France to the North Sea via Belgium and the Netherlands. Almost all of the city lies to the east of the river but a small chunk lies to the west in an area known as Linkeroever (or Left Bank). Originally the only way across was by ferry but in the 1930s, to stimulate development, a proper connection was proposed. A bridge proved impractical because of passing shipping so the burghers instead plumped for tunnels, one for traffic and one for pedestrians. The Sint-Annatunnel opened on 10 September 1933, as did its motoring counterpart, is still free to walk through and OMG the escalators are to die for.
To give you some idea of the distance traversed, the Scheldt here is roughly as broad as the Thames is at Woolwich. But whereas the Woolwich Foot Tunnel is a dank narrow bore through which bikes are discouraged, St Anna's Tunnel is drier, wider and an integral part of Linkeroever's cycling commute. Each side of the tunnel is marked by a substantialbrick building, with no especially obvious signage explaining its purpose and tall enough to house sufficient lift machinery. And yes you could go down into the 'Underpass' by lift, but why do that when there's an original wooden escalator to transfer you to the depths.
Not only are the treads wooden but the sides are too, providing a refreshingly retro Art Deco ambience. Best not think about the fire risk - London Transport replaced all theirs for good reason - so step aboard. You're not required to stand on the right and walk on the left, it's not that busy, plus any attempt at walking is likely to be blocked by someone carrying a bike. I made my Sint-Anna debut during the evening peak and dozens of people were accompanying their bicycles onto the escalators both up and down. It must be quicker than waiting for the lift.
And it's not just one set of escalators it's two. Halfway down you have to step off the first, twist round on a semicircular landing and join the second. Not even the longest escalator on the London Underground goes as deep as we're going, which is 31½m. No adverts grace the walls, only historical photos of the tunnel and the locality. The underside of the treads is painted chocolate-brown to match the woodwork. Intermittent red buttons allow you to press 'Nood' to execute an emergency stop. And assuming nobody does that, you'll eventually glide down to the mouth of the tunnel.
The tunnel proper, to be fair, is dull. For a start it's entirely flat, whereas the Thames foot tunnels slope downwards to the centre providing an ongoing change of perspective. The walls are tiled entirely in white along their entire length, although to their credit the authorities have pasted up a chronological series of posters about the development of the Linkeroever tunnels so it's not as monotonous as it could be. And because the tunnel is over 4m wide the authorities have decided that cycling is permitted, officially with a maximum speed of 5kmh but I don't think I saw anybody sticking to walking pace.
No lanes have been painted so it's a bit of a free for all, especially at half past five in the evening, although I think there's an unwritten rule that you're supposed to stick to the right. All kinds of bikes swooshed past me from sleek racers to cargo bikes, plus young children pedalling furiously to keep up with their parents. Each successive arrival of the lift sent another pulse, but because so many cyclists use the escalators the traffic never died down for long. The tunnel's official length is 572m - I timed my crossing at seven minutes precisely - and then another pair of escalators awaits to take you back to the surface.
Linkeroever on the far side is a sprawling suburb of 15000 residents, so nothing sightseeingworthy, but if you step back to the waterfront a fine view of the Antwerpskyline can be enjoyed across the river. The skyline would have been more impressive before 1944 when the Germans started doodlebugging the port, and generally missed, but it's fine enough. And you could walk back, or catch the free ferry, but I hopped down onto the premetro and caught a tram back through the Brabotunnel. It was a lot quicker, but I really missed the wooden escalators.
