Once more fooled by April

We were in for a bit of a letdown on Sunday the 16th of April. All week long, the weathermen had kept promising a sunny weekend, but when push came to shove we had to content ourselves with a half-day of sunshine on Saturday. By Saturday evening our phone's weather app spoke of grey skies and showers again, which made us regret not having gone for a walk and having just whittled away the time not doing very much at all instead. Serves us right for turning a blind eye to the weather's general fickleness which makes forecasting it such a balancing act.

But they got it right this time, as the gloomy morning we'd woken up to soon turned into a wet one, the rain pitter-pattering against our windows and creating puddles on our garden path. Thankfully, the rainclouds soon departed elsewhere, but the sun was no match for the thick blanket of grey they left behind in their wake.

Still, determined not to be beaten by the ongoing unspringlike weather, we decided to go ahead with our intended walk, picking a destination which wasn't too far from home. After tossing around a couple of possible contenders, we settled for Solhof, the municipal park in the neighbouring village of Aartselaar.

Laid out in English landscape style, the park is part of the  former pleasure grounds of an old castle estate whose history goes back to the 15th century. 

Apart from two watchtowers on either side of the entrance, dating from around 1550, one of which you can catch a fairy-tale like glimpse of in the first collage, there's nothing left of the original castle. In its place, there's a neoclassical, late 19th century mansion, now much much modernized and turned into a hotel. 

Apart from the rather neglected parks's natural delights, there's the quirky knoll with gazebo (above, top left), which is built on top of an ice house. Reminiscent of Sleeping Beauty's castle, it is half-hidden, not behind a thicket of thorns, but behind an insulating layer of yew. Although there isn't much of a view up there - depending on the season, one can just make out the ugly white hotel in the background - we can never resist climbing the knoll's narrow winding path to the gazebo with its gnarled, graffitied pillars.

At first glance, the park didn't look all that much different from our last visit back in November, the lawns and pathways still strewn with a crunchy layer of dried Autumn leaves and the majority of the trees still awaiting their Spring finery. The mind-numbing whitish grey sky and the temperature which barely reached double figures made it hard to imagine it was actually a Sunday in April rather than an Autumn one.

Fortunately, signs of Spring were all around, in the bright, chartreuse clad branches of the weeping willow meeting its reflection in the pond, the clusters of golden-yellow Mahonia flowers, and the hundreds of delicate white bells adorning the Pieris japonica shrubs. It isn't all that hard to see why one of the latter's common names is lily-of-the-valley bush!

Here's the outfit which was hidden underneath my cream, tan and light blue Winter coat.

My blue dress with its pattern of cow parsley and daisies is vintage, from the Finnish Karelia label, and was found at Think Twice in September 2020. Both the necklace and the resin ring encasing some kind of dried flowers were found on the high street. The latter is being shown to you by the wooden hand model I was seduced into buying when we went to IKEA.

The multicoloured slubbed longline cardigan is by the Danish ONLY label and was charity shopped a couple of years ago. At my waist, an old tan leather belt from my collection, while the brooch I pinned to my dress was picked up from the indoor flea market last year.

Typically, we were treated to a handful of sunny days during the working week that followed, even if courtesy of the wind the chill factor belied the 13-15°C shown on the thermometer in full sunshine.

Clearing my head and giving my eyes a rest from the screen is a necessity half-way through the day, so I walked to the Botanic Garden both on Tuesday and Wednesday.

I was delighted by the sight of the host of yellow daffodils in front of my old school building which backs the garden, and was snapping away happily, entering the garden proper, when I was promptly shooed away by a film crew who were about to call "Action!".

I scurried away on the path leading into the direction of the luxury hotel, but was halted in my track by the abandoned wheelbarrow and the rake missing several of its teeth. I decided they were worth a photo or two and had just done the deed when, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a guy waving frantically at me from the path leading paralell to mine. Apparently, I was persona non grata here as well, so I reluctantly carried on walking away from the scene.

Strangely enough, both the wheelbarrow and the rake were still in exactly the same position when I returned the next day. Were they abandoned film props, perhaps, or does the city Antwerp employ negligent gardeners? 

In a newspaper article this past week I read that plans to revamp the Botanic Garden are afoot. Nothing major, mind you, as the garden has been protected as cultural-historical landscape since 1950 and both the garden and its buildings have received architectural heritage status three years ago. I had to laugh when the article mentioned some of the noticeboards would be replaced as well, as it instantly put me in mind of the rather pointless noticeboard I photographed in the prairie garden near my old school (above, top centre).

On the day when I was exiled by the film crew, my feet took me to the site of the luxury hotel, which also contains several fine dining restaurants, three of which have recently been awarded Guide Michelin stars. Nobody batted an eyelid when I walked through the gateway into a courtyard which contains the herb garden belonging to one of the posh restaurants, but I was given the side-eye by a guy, possibly a waiter, when I was on my way out.

Walking past the chapel and its ghosts, I finally made my way back to the street, where I snapped the two towers of the neo-Gothic St. Joriskerk (St. George's church). I had to look up its name, as it's known to us as the soup church. Jos, who often stayed with his older brother who lived nearby when he was a young boy, remembers the aroma of soup always lingering here.

Friday was another half-day for me, on which I took the tram to Mortsel, where Jos picked me up.

Apart from the Bohemian beaded brooch, all of my outfit's elements were recently worn in other constellations. My blouse from the Belgian Wow To Go label was bought in an Outlet shop in the Autumn, the belt a recently charity shop find, and the skirt charity shopped last Summer.

This time, Jos had no problem persuading me to go charity shopping, so here are the results of the good old rummage I had in the shop in Mortsel.

The zebra-esque pattern of this lightweight bracelet sleeve length shirt-waist dress made it a no-brainer ...

... as did this faux-wrap dress with its pattern of green squirrels!

This flouncy, tiered C&A skirt landed in my basket as well.

There was no way I could resist this pair of green floral Ballerinas, for which I gladly paid € 5.

Looking up the brand, Andrea Montelpare, at home, I was gobsmacked when I learned they are a luxury children's footwear label, and that they would have retailed at around € 150. The perks of having small feet!

My final find was this miniature booklet on architecture, dating from 1964.

I photographed it next to the shoes so that you can see how tiny it actually is. Even my Size 4s are gigantic compared to it!

So, that was it for now. I'll be back with more April adventures soon, hopefully with a significant improvement in the weather!