Caught on camera

'Twas October's final Sunday. The weather gods were still on their best behaviour and treated us to another day of sunshine and unseasonable temperatures.

After a morning of faffing and pottering - my memory fails me here on what I did exactly - we cast around for walking destinations which, as we were in one of those archetypal lazy Sunday moods, wouldn't be too far from home nor too strenuous. In the end, we declared that a walk in Den Brandt, one of Antwerp's loveliest parks, would be just the ticket.

The temperatures might have been leaning more towards Summer than Autumn, but there was no denying that it was the end of October, soon to be November, with all the sensory signs of nature winding down present and correct.

In fact, the juxtaposition of the seasons felt slightly unreal as if we were living on borrowed time, which undoubtedly we were, with dull and dark November waiting in the wings.

Short-sleeved it may have been, but my dress definitely belonged to Autumn, with its glorious mix of seasonal colours including the quintessential Hallowe'en pumpkin orange. It's one of my favourite Diolen Delights and I usually keep it out to wear in Autumn if the weather allows.

In spite of the mildness of the day, I was wearing layers, starting with a green cardigan and followed by a fiery orange velvet jacket. The ochre yellows in my dress's print were picked up with my belt and necklace and if you squint you might make out the purple glass ring I wore.

As usual, we entered the park through the adjacent picking garden. Here apples, pears, cherries and plums can be harvested in season, and there's a range of soft fruits and a selection of herbs to take your pick from from as well. At this time of year, though, only half-empty beds of straggling herbs were on offer. 

I always make a beeline for the Gautam Buddha - a gift from the Ambassador of Nepal back in 2004 - who is keeping watch from the garden's far end, eager to see the offerings he has received. Finding his lap empty, I picked him a posy of wildflowers which I tied with a long blade of grass. Jos's contribution were two feathers he found in the dewy grass.

Behind the hedge which backs the Buddha is an intriguing turreted house called Villa La Chapelle. Now a conference centre, the house was originally built in neo-Gothic style between 1880 and 1885 as the gardener's residence of Castle Den Brandt, commissioned by the then lord of the castle, Emile Augustin Joseph della Faille de Waerloos (1835-1890). 

Normally a locked gate keeps one from entering the secluded garden belonging to the villa. For some reason, however, the gate was now standing invitingly open and beyond it an arrow pointed into the direction of the path leading around to the villa's back. An equally inquisitive couple was just rounding the corner when we tentatively stepped through the gate, so we confidently followed suit.

We would eventually have to turn back as there was a fence preventing us from accessing the park this way, but not before exploring the villa's small and slightly overgrown garden.

Half-hidden among the thicket of shrubs was this statue of a lady leaning pensively on a gate post, a shawl draped nonchalantly over her shoulders. She was rather sad-looking, I thought, perhaps hankering for the halcyon days of her prime. Who was she, and what was her name, I wondered. As her stony gaze gave nothing away, I named her Flora.

With one backward glance, we bade goodbye to Flora, whom we'll probably never meet again. I'm fairly certain that wide open gate was a case of negligence rather than intention.

Back in the picking garden, we climbed the steps leading into the park itself. We proceeded to walk along an avenue of majestic trees, at that particular moment in time still largely in leaf, with the faintest hint of amber dotted among their branches. 

The hapless victims of storms and high winds were lining the edge of the path, while fungi reared their heads from their beds of leaves.

The park as we now know it was first opened in 1911. It used to be the pleasure grounds of a romantic castle, originally built in 1790, but renovated in the 1870s in late classical style.

For its opening in 1911, the city had a reproduction of Michelangelo's David installed in the grounds, which they purchased at the 1910 World Fair in Brussels.  Like the famous original in Firenze, the statue is over 5 meters high. Unlike the original, however, you can admire this one, popularly known as den bloten David (colloquial for naked David) for free and without joining endless queues. 

There is also a small English cottage in the grounds, which is purely ornamental, placed in the garden as a romantic element.

Picturesque though it is, it is standing there quite forlornly in its miniature cottage garden. In fact, I think it looked just a little bit spooky, particularly on this day before Hallowe'en. I might not celebrate the latter, but I'm not averse to some tasteful seasonal spookiness.

The week which followed was a bit weird and chaotic, what with the impending office move keeping my colleague and me occupied.

On top of that, I had some catching up to do on Monday after my three-day weekend, so that by the end of the day I was more than ready for another day off. Wasn't it just fortunate that Tuesday the 1st of November was All Saints Day, which is a public holiday in Belgium!

It was mostly sunny and a more than reasonable 17°C, but a gale force wind made it feel quite unpleasant outside.  I continued with the seemingly never-ending wardrobe changeover, putting aside two bags of stuff to sort through and decide whether to donate or sell at next year's flea market.

Then, in the afternoon, we got a visit from my brother, whom I hadn't seen or heard of for well over a year. Apparently, he'd been spending time abroad, which neither me nor my sister were aware of. A close family we certainly aren't. Anyway, by the time he left, it was alas too dark for outfit photos. 

Work kept being crazy fort the rest of the week, although on Wednesday I took some time out for a visit to my hairdresser.

On Thursday, we had some outside help packing up most of the office, so that we would be obliged to spend the days counting down to the actual move surrounded by walls of boxes.

We were also given the key of the new temporary office, which is only next door to ours, its windows offering a slightly different aspect from the one I have been used to for 27 years. I snapped this moody photo of the view towards Antwerp's main shopping thoroughfare with my phone on Friday morning.

Yes, I did work on Friday again! Only a half-day, though. It was a gloomy day with a couple of showers and a drop in temperature to 13°C. Still in double figures, so I guess we couldn't complain, particularly as it had cleared up somewhat by the time Jos picked me up.

We stopped off at our local charity shop for a rummage, but let's have a look at my outfit first.

The skirt, which I bought at 70% off in the January sales, is made from a very strokable faux suede fabric and is equipped with two generous patch pockets.

Its companion for the day was this aubergine blouse liberally sprinkled with multi-coloured dots, which was a Think Twice find many moons ago. 

Both my purple belt and orange beaded necklace were charity shop finds, while the Lea Stein lookalike cat brooch with its orange eyes and ears was a gift from my lovely friend Kezzie.

Now, what did I find? 

First up is a pair of hardly worn tan leather Italian made loafers. I also found this modern tartan patterned dress, which started life at C&A.

But it was Jos who claimed the star find this time!

Another remnant from the infamous Day of the Charity Shops, the price tag on this wooden stereo camera dating from the late 1800s, early 1900s, was a bit higher than what we are used to pay, but still a fraction of what it would have cost it in an antiques shop.

Its leather-clad case had a tag mentioning "Louis Van Neck - Constructeur breveté - Klapdorp - Anvers". Some Googling brought me to the Directory of Belgian Photographers compiled by FOMU, the Museum of Photography in Antwerp. 

Apparently, Louis Van Neck (1853 - 1917) was a pharmacist who sold photographic chemicals and supplies at his premises in a street called Klapdorp in Antwerp from 1884 until 1908. He is considered one of the finest and most inventive Belgian camera manufacturers of the 19th century. 

In 1893, he patented "a new, simple stereoscopic camera, the ‘Royal Excellentis L. V. N."

Our new treasure is a dry plate camera, dry plates being pieces of glass plate coated with a gelatin emulsion which when exposed to light will capture an image. They were invented by Dr. Richard L. Maddox in 1871

Included in the camera's bag were three sets of wooden dry plate holders, which offer space for two dry plates, one at each side. These holders would be inserted at the back of the camera. After exposure of the plates, a clever mechanism allowed the holders to seal them off from light.

We are still thinking how to properly exhibit this jewel in the crown of our antique camera collection, but in the meantime Jos ans his assistant have already given it the necessary TLC.