Places in Antwerp


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Snooker Point

De coninckplein, one of those shabby squares in Antwerpen where every week at least one bar gets sealed because of adrug raid. Although things are better than they used to be, still most of the bars don’t give you that welcoming feeling. Most of them have their windows covered so you don’t have a clue of what’s going on inside. I always get these images of mobsters doing some shady business deals behind the curtains. But sometimes you are horribly wrong andSnooker Pointis one of those places, which you’ll leave surprised. It was Friday night when some friends and I entered the place, instead of mafia business men drinking whiskeys on the rocks, there were people were drinkingbutter tea, playingcarom, an Indian air hockey-like game and enjoying Asian video clips on a big flat screen. We were wondering what kind of place we entered until we sawthe Dalai Lamaagainst the wall. Snooker Point is one of thethree Tibetan barsat De Coninckplein. Zomsa Café, Tibetan Art Café and Snooker Point are sort of a gathering point for theTibetan communityin Antwerpen. People help each other out, especially if it comes to Belgian paperwork saysPemma, owns the bar with her husband. She has been in the same situation as many other Tibetans and that’s why she wants to help out. She had fled from Tibet herself when she was sixteen and came to Belgium to get a better education. She knows how hard it can be fornewcomers. When you’re at Snooker Point you really get the feeling entering ahidden community. Beers are exchanged for butter tea and instead of a croque monsieur you can getShabale, a samosa like snack, or aTibetan stew. But be prepared to make a long toilet visit if you’re not used to thespices! If you are tired of all those brown Belgian bars and want to try something else, this one’s for you. Grab yourself a beer, or even better a butter tea, talk with the regulars and before you know it, you’ll be dancin’ on aTibetan weddinghand in hand with the bride.

Ganzenrijden In De Polders

This is a yearly traditional event intowns in the Kempen (Lilo, Stabroek, Zandvliet,...). In short some drunk guys riding on a horse in farmer’s clothing trying to pull off the head of goose hanging on a stick. In these villages it’s a battle between menbecoming King or Emperor. Why would they do such thing? First of all it's a tradition. People do stupid thingsif it comes totraditions right? We wrote a small reportabout our visit the ganzenrijden in Stabroekand some things you should know about this absurd folklore! Read about here.


An apocalyptic town situated next to a nuclear power plant

Lint City

Lint is lovely shitty town 20km from Antwerp where you can still find real farmers and shitty hobby clubs. Visit the Pigeon Club to talk about pigeons. When you get thirsty, go to the Horse Club to drink a fresh glass of horse milk, maybe you even get to milk the horses yourself. Or maybe if you enjoy fishing you can easily spent your afternoon in the park of Lint, where the Fishermen Club fishes and never even catch a damn thing, but that’s not important, right?Lint also has the smallest roundabout in Belgium and right there on a corner you can find the oldest bartender in Flanders, Lucienneke, she is now 91years old! Her shitty brown bar has cheap Duvel and other beers. Lucienneke is also famous for the best drafted 'bolleke', the world famous Antwerp De Koninckbier. Notice: Lucienneke passed away 9th January. A monument has passed. RIP and may the bollekes be with you.

RAFC Den Antwaarp and Den Beerschot

Antwerp football at it's best

Bar Venetie

If you're tired of clubs and you want to party in a place where the bouncers doesn'tmind you look like a bum Bar Venetië is your sweet spot. Based in Borgerhout near the end of the Turnhoutse Baan Bar Venetïe isn't what you expect it to be. From the outside it looks like some shady bar but once inside you can go to the back where you can find the dancehall. Ona Friday nightchances are high you'll find 500 people sweating their asses of on some experimental electronic hipster gay music. This is definitely not an insult 'cause it will probably the best party going on in Antwerpen that very night. Not kidding! Gay people are the only people who really know how to party. During weekdays there won't be much going on here. You could have a chat with Angela, the Romanian barlady, who would maybe offer you a Palinka (Romanian schnaps) if she's in a good mood.


After standing in front ofthe blinking ‘paradise’ sign for half an hour, we decided to get in. We heard stories about this club at the Rooseveltplaats and were too curious to let this chance passby. We walked through the entry hall into a room which could be best described as an arab neon strip club, but without the strippers. The club was nearly empty. There were some shady characters lurking on their shisha in the back and to our biggest surprise, there was a live band playing. Distorted arab synth lines were dominating the club and the singer was giving the performance of herlifetime. Berber wedding auto tune at its best! According to the waitress they were a famous Moroccan band on tour in Belgium and this night exclusively in Antwerpen. We ordered two beers and went to the top floor to enjoy the view below and take some pictures of the live performance. A couple of moments later someone who was sitting at the back of the stage was throwing hand gestures at us. He definitely didn’t want to drink a coffee with us and shouted we had to come downstairs. We went downstairs to check what they wanted to say. The security, Popeye on steroids, came to us and told us the boss wanted us to leave. This was not a request and a split second later the barlady gave us the check for the beers. Fifteen euros?! For two beer bottles… (they weren’t even cold). We didn’t want to get stabbed and end up in a white antwerp 60l garbage bag on monday morning so we just payed the bill and decided to leave. The security took us by our neck and the moment we were out he locked the door. We were out and happy to go home. Good night!

Central Station & Leo II's startup called the Congo

A brief history of the Central Station and Leopold II