Belgian Gems

... Belgische Juwelen was the name of a bus trip to Flanders. Unfortunately, the ratio was two days on the bus and two days of sightseeing.

Gaius Julius Caesar taught us: Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres, quarum unam incolunt Belgae, aliam Aquitani, tertiam qui ipsorum lingua Celtae, nostra Galli appellantur. Hi omnes lingua, institutis, legibus inter se differunt ... and Red Baron adds: Belgium too consists of three parts - Flanders, Wallonia, and the Brussels Region.

Caesar continues in lingua Anglica: Of all these tribes, the Belgae are the strongest, because they are very far removed from the culture and civilization of the Roman province; merchants rarely visit them and do not bring goods that might soften their spirits; and they are neighbors of the Germans, who live across the Rhine, with whom they are constantly at war.

This might have been true 50 before Christ, but in the Middle Ages Flanders, together with Northern Italy, was one of the richest regions in Europe. The cloth trade, in particular, made cities like Antwerpen and Gent wealthy.

©landgeist.com

To soften their spirits, the Belgians brew beer in 395 breweries and drink 87 liters per year per capita, but in Europe their consumption is clearly beaten by the Czechs with 135 liters.

©Der Spiegl

The other famous Belgian "softening" product is no longer cloth but chocolate. In Brussels, every second shop sells chocolate to tourists, but when it comes to consumption, the Swiss, with 10.5 kg per year, are the frontrunners and the Belgians are way behind.

And finally, the only time we're "at war" these days is with the Belgian voetbalelftal- the Red Devils wearing red jerseys - in soccer.

What splendor!

We arrived in Antwerp after a ten-hour bus ride, had time to visit the famous central station just opposite our hotel, and later had dinner at one of the downtown restaurants called brasseries.

Why is the flag at the top La tricolore?

The following morning, we visited Brussels, and our first stop - where else - was the Atomium, combining the words atom and aluminum, the metal with which the spheres were initially covered. Since its inauguration at the World's Fair EXPO 58, the spheres of the Brussels landmark have become unsightly from corrosion and have been coated with stainless steel.

A close-up taken through the window of our passing bus

The nine spheres represent one elementary cell of an iron crystal, enlarged 165 billion times. Eight iron atoms are at the corners of a cube, and one is in the center.

Staying on the grounds of the Brussels World's Fairs, we drove toward the Palais 5 of EXPO 1935. Built in the Art Deco style, it has a stepped, almost pyramid-like silhouette and an austere, monumental facade. Verdigris-colored bronze statues top the vertical pillars.

In the background, the Palais de Justice dome rises.

As we entered Brussels's Manhattan district, the bus had to stop at a traffic light. We got a glimpse of a triangular steel form from which an arc has been removed and displaced. The black satin-painted object stands in the center of a shallow reflecting basin. The artist, Maria Wierusz-Kowalski, created the sculpture in 1997 and called it Esprit ouvert - Perspectives et Réflexions.

To the right, you enter the "bilingual" Galerie des Princes / Prinsen Galerij.

Eventually, we stepped off the bus and walked through the Galeries Royales Saint-Hubert. This shopping mall was modeled after Milan's famous shopping gallery, the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II.

We passed the chocolaterie, Neuhaus. Jean Neuhaus, a Swiss immigrant, founded his company in 1857 in Brussels and opened the first chocolate store in the Galeries Royales. In 1912, his grandson, Jean Neuhaus II, invented the chocolate praline, a decadent chocolate cream ganache center inside a chocolate shell. 

On our way to the other landmark every visitor must see, we noted La Friterie. Looking inside made our mouths water. 

Eventually, we reached another Brussels landmark: the Manneken Pis. His origin is rooted in a legend. In the 14th century, foreign troops besieged Brussels. When the city stubbornly held ground, the attackers secretly placed explosive charges at the city walls. A little boy named Julianske, observing the preparations, urinated on the burning fuse and thus saved the city.

The earliest mention of Manneken Pis in a document dates to the mid-15th century. At that time, the pissing boy wasn't a tourist attraction, as Jacobus Harrewijn's 1697 gravure shows.

The water jet must have been stronger back then (©Jijuc/Wikipedia)

The Fontaine de Manneken-Pis was part of Brussels' water supply!

In 1695, during the Nine Years' War, Louis XIV's troops bombarded Brussels, heavily damaging the city's water supply. For some time the Manneken could not deliver his water. When the pipes were repaired, the little pisser was triumphantly returned to its pedestal. Above his head, the grateful citizens placed the text of Psalm 27:5-6: In petra exaltavit me, et nunc exaltavi caput meum super inimicos meos (He hath set me high upon a rock (pedestal). And now he hath lifted up my head above my enemies.)

On our way back, we passed La Frieterie again, and this time we stopped and stepped in. Without exaggeration, I had the most expensive, but best, French fries of my life. How do the Belgians make them ...

Seen in Gent

I asked ChatGPT, and here is the answer:

1. The potato
They traditionally use floury, high-starch potatoes, such as Bintje. The high starch and relatively low moisture are important for the fluffy interior.
2. Cut thick
Belgian frites are generally cut considerably thicker than fast-food fries - roughly 10- 13 mm. This gives enough potato inside to remain soft and creamy.
3. First frying - relatively cool
The raw fries are fried at around 140-160°C for several minutes. They cook through without becoming brown. The inside becomes soft and fluffy while the outside develops the beginnings of a crust.
4. Resting
This is an important part. The fries are taken out and allowed to drain and cool for a while.
5. Second frying - very hot
Just before serving, they go back into the fat at about 175-190°C. The remaining surface moisture rapidly turns into steam, producing a dry, crisp exterior.

Spectacular Gustav Klimt for sale.

Little of the traditional Belgian broderie remains. I didn't ask for the price.

Then our guide led us to Brussels' Grand-Place, devastated by the French bombardment in 1695 but, like the Manneken Pis, it rose from its ashes. The place is surrounded by the Hôtel de Ville, guildhouses, and La Maison du Roi. Many buildings around the Grote Markt were rebuilt and date to the late 17th century.

The Stadhuis, from the 15th century and built in Brabant Gothic, has a 96-meter-high tower crowned by a statue of the Archangel Michael. It largely survived the 1695 bombardment. But our guide didn't rant at the French but at the Spaniards.

At the end of the Middle Ages, Flanders, along with Brussels, was part of the Spanish Netherlands. La Maison du Roi, the Broodhuis, bears witness to this. Originally, bakers sold their bread there. The Dukes of Brabant kept the original name when they converted the house into an administrative building. Later, the building became the Habsburg governor's residence. 

Karl Marx, expelled from Paris, arrived in the Belgian capital in February 1845, and Friedrich Engels joined him that spring. La Maison du Cygne was a meeting place for the Democratic Association of Brussels where the pair often gathered. Marx was active in the group and gave lectures. 

In the aftermath of the February 1848 revolution in France, Belgian authorities moved against foreign radicals. Marx was arrested, expelled in March, and returned to Paris.

Horses pollute; electric vehicles don't.

Another historic building on the Grand-Place is La Maison du Pigeon. After Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte's coup d'état in 1851, in which he established an anti-parliamentary constitution, Victor Hugo, a staunch Republican, openly declared Napoléon III a traitor to France. Hugo fled to Brussels in December and stayed in the house decorated with a pigeon until the Belgian authorities pushed him out in 1852. He moved on to the Channel Islands, first to Jersey, from which he was expelled, then to Guernsey, where he stayed until 1870.

Stay tuned for more Flanders.

**

Kaub: - 2

©Wikipedia/Marion Halft

Today, the water level gauge in Kaub couldn't handle a negative value. At - 2 cm, the navigation channel on the Rhine River is a mere 111 cm deep.

The classic water level gauge jutted out as a “writing above the water” (©SWR)

After standing at four centimeters last Friday, the gauge level had already dropped to minus one centimeter by Saturday afternoon. This is a dramatic change from the gauge level of 24 cm I reported on August 5.

©SWR

At this new historic low, the Kaub Rhine ferry service, already suspended for ten days earlier this summer, once again came to a standstill, since it requires a minimum gauge level of 15 centimeters to operate regularly.

It is unclear when service can resume; substantial rainfall is not in sight. Today in Freiburg, it was 30 °C, with rain showers expected and a temperature drop announced for the coming Thursday.

Construction materials must be expensively transported by rail or road (©SWR)

Economists at the German Economic Institute estimate the overall economic damage from logistical shifts, production cutbacks, and lost cargo during the months-long low-water period is already at 18 billion euros.

According to experts, it all began with the extremely dry and hot summer of 2018. Some shipping companies never recovered after the resulting extreme drought. It was a wake-up call, but as usual, nobody listened.

The water problem starts in the Alps, where winters bring little snowfall. Also, higher temperatures mean less snow remains on the ground in the low mountain ranges. Normally, this snowpack acts as a temporary reservoir: it melts slowly over weeks, and the water seeps continuously into the ground, replenishing groundwater and flowing into rivers. Everywhere snow is missing as a silent water reservoir.

A worldwide challenge. The same story at Park City Mountain Resort (©WaPo)

The Rhine River has another water source: melting glaciers in the Alps. Enno Nilson of the Federal Institute of Hydrology (BfG) says, “For now, glacial melt is still masking the effects of low water levels: During hot spells, up to one-fifth of the Rhine’s water comes from the glaciers, while normally, it’s only a small single-digit percentage.”

But we all know that this buffer is disappearing along with the glaciers. Climate change thus only temporarily offsets a problem that it causes elsewhere. This does not bode well for navigation on the Rhine River. Climate models show that in the second half of the century, low-water periods are likely to become even longer and more pronounced. With every additional year of drought, transport on Germany’s waterways becomes more uncertain and more expensive.

The mighty Colorado River suffers from lack of water too (©WaPo)

Authorities and companies are working to adapt shipping to low water levels. Low-water vessels are one way to adapt, and on the Middle Rhine, the federal government plans to ease the Kaub bottlenecks by dredging the riverbed and deepening the navigation channel. But that won’t make much difference if there is even less water to begin with.

October, often praised as the "golden month," is known for its low rainfall. Therefore, it is likely that the water level at Kaub will drop even further. 

Will the Rhine River eventually dwindle to a trickle or even dry up completely, and will weeping help?

Oh, tears are salt water.

**

A Rainbow With No Ends

On the bus ride back from my trip to Flanders (blogs to follow), I photographed a strange phenomenon that resembled a rainbow with no ends. 

I took the photo on the Autobahn A5 near Bühl on September 23, at 18h30. The low evening sun illuminated a small cirrus cloud and created this rare (?) spectacle. That's a case for ChatGPT.

Do you know anything more about this weather phenomenon?

This is a cloud iridescence in cirrus, caused by diffraction of low evening sunlight by tiny ice particles. With the Sun only about 8° above the horizon, sunlight came through the atmosphere at a very shallow angle, illuminating the thin high cloud from the side.

It is a relatively uncommon sight in ordinary mid-latitude cirrus. A published long-term study found that vivid iridescence in mid-latitude cirrus is quite rare because the very small ice particles needed for it do not persist for long.

And there is also a nice coincidence: September 23, 2026 was the autumnal equinox (at 02:05 CEST). So you photographed this essentially on the day when the Sun crossed the celestial equator.

You always get a bonus with ChatGPT.

Iridescent clouds in Liebenwalde on April 10, 2020

The phenomenon that sunlight is not refracted by water drops causing a rainbow, but diffracted by ice particles, was photographed by ©Andreas Möller, too.

And remember the spectacular pink in Freiburg's sky on December 9 last year.

**

AI Dooming and More

Today Red Baron read an article in the NZZ titled “Untergangspropheten, Skeptiker und Utopisten: Diese drei Lager streiten um die KI-Zukunft (Doomsday Prophets, Skeptics, and Utopians: These Three Camps Are Debating the Future of AI).”

Here is my annotated and augmented summary:

©NZZ

There is a growing chorus of voices claiming that AI will destroy humanity. This assumption is based on incidents in which AI “autonomously” infiltrated computer systems and altered them.

Jacob Coxon, an AI researcher at Anthropic, resigned from his position criticizing both Anthropic and OpenAI for "gambling with our lives"

When Jacob proclaimed his Badspel, CNN anchor Anderson Cooper looked worried, well Anderson always looks worried.

As the discussions turn toward doomsday scenarios, Jason Abaluck, economics professor at Yale University,  posted:

Jason is mostly afraid of RSI, the Recursive Self-Improvement, of one AI system dominating not only all the others but the world?

One of the best-known doomers is AI developer Geoffrey Hinton, who asserts, “The only thing that can force these companies to do more safety research is legislation.”

“Never has a less intelligent thing controlled a more intelligent thing. Developing a powerful AI is like getting a tiger cub. If you can’t be very sure that it won’t try to kill you once it grows up, you should be worried.”

Dario Amodei left OpenAI after sharply criticizing the irresponsibility behind developing the ChatGPT agent. He founded Anthropic and he now drives the development of the Claude agent. He is a doomer, yet he sees both the dangers and the potential of AI. Amodei advocates for slowing down AI research to buy time for more safety reviews.

 

Elon Musk who had been sounding the alarm on AI for a long time admitted recently in an interview with The Economist, “I don’t see any way to really stop this incredible surge in AI and robots.”

Then Elon went on to explain his shift from an AI doomer to an AI advocate, saying that within the framework of techno-libertarianism, he arrived at the ”philosophical” conclusion that “even if there were a stop button, we probably shouldn’t press it, because the most likely outcome is incredible abundance for everyone.”

“Future humans will no longer have to work. Their lives will be funded by an ‘unconditional basic income.’”

Doyan Marc Andreessen, co-author of the first web browser Mosaic, is even more optimistic than Musk. In his essay “The Techno-Optimist Manifesto,” he writes: “We believe that artificial intelligence is our alchemy, our philosopher’s stone — we are literally making sand think.”

As a result of the “Law of Accelerating Return,” according to which technological progress generally reinforces itself, “more and more becomes possible with less and less. Prices fall, purchasing power is unleashed, and demand for new goods and services rises.” This results in exponential growth. Andreessen’s view is in line with the radical current of techno-libertarianism known as “e/acc,” or effective accelerationism.

Sam Altman, the CEO of OpenAI, sounds far more utopian in his essay “The Intelligence Age.” He is convinced that AI can tackle climate change, explore the entire field of physics, and establish a space colony.

After all, Sam, too, believes in exponential growth according to Moore’s Law: “Semiconductors roughly double their performance every two years while prices remain constant. Computers and smartphones get better with every new model, and their processors take up less space, while the price of a new device stays roughly the same*.
*Roughly the same? The iPhone 18 Pro Max is 150 euros more expensive than last year’s model.

He concludes his remarks, “A defining feature of the Age of Intelligence will be massive prosperity.”

Alongside the doomers and utopians, Gary Marcus, professor emeritus of psychology and neural science at New York University, considers the current discourse to be exaggerated: “The idea that AI will wipe us all out in five years is completely absurd.”

Timnit Gebru, founder of the Distributed Artificial Intelligence Research Institute, wrote in Wired magazine: “The industry has become a collection of cults and die-hard believers. Like a preacher proclaiming that the end of the world is nigh.”

How true.

AI researcher Melanie Mitchell demonstrated that the AI agents developed by OpenAI and Anthropic do not exhibit malicious behavior by chance, but rather as a result of their training. These AI companies didn't lose control of their systems; they trained them incorrectly. Subsequently, they failed to monitor their inherently risky systems properly. 

Is her finding any consolation and shouldn’t we steer the discourse around AI away from the hype and back toward the real problems of AI?

©AP

AI systems not only consume a lot of energy but cooling water, too. Even worse is what we are currently witnessing with horror: AI built into weapons is automating the war in Ukraine.

This has mutated into a war of attrition, although unlike in World War I, the dwindling numbers of soldiers on both sides are not keeping each other in check with heavy artillery fire.

Like in 1917, there is calm on the front lines: “All Quiet on the Eastern Front”. Now, AI-controlled drones are bringing death and destruction deep into the enemy’s rear, and the ones who suffer are the civilian population, women, and children.

And with this, war criminal Putin is conducting sham negotiations for a temporary ceasefire, leading the world by the nose, and holding it hostage. Even India’s Prime Minister Modi, who greatly benefits from Russian oil at a low price, is pushing for serious negotiations.

Sorry for the digression. I just had to get that off my chest.
**

Dyrhólaey, Skógafoss and Back to Reykjavík

On the last day of our Iceland trip, we continued on the Ring Road along the southern flank of Vatnajökull, with a breathtaking view of the Mýrdalsjökull glacier tongue. 

Vatnajökull reached its greatest extent in the late 19th century, but its tongues have since retreated due to climate change. The glacier covers seven active volcanoes, so geothermal heat keeps lakes beneath it. Glacial rivers originating from Vatnajökull created large outwash plains.

Our first stop was the Skeiðará Bridge Monument, a monument made of twisted iron girders. In October 1996, the dormant Gjálp volcano erupted beneath the Vatnajökull. The heat melted massive amounts of ice, which collected beneath the glacier to form a lake. In late November, this subglacial lake burst, resulting in a jökulhlaup (glacial flood) that carried up to 45,000 m³ of water per second, along with meter-high floating ice floes.

The flood wave destroyed a large section of Iceland's Ring Road as well as its longest bridge, the 900-meter Skeiðará Bridge. The bent steel girders, twisted like wire, bear witness to the impact of the plummeting masses of ice.

An artist's idealized view of the south side of the Vatnajökull

And here is the map. On the left is the Breiðamerkurjökull glacier tongue and Jökulsárlón; in the middle is the mighty Skeiðarárjökull tongue.

Further west, we visited the Vatnajökull National Park visitor center in Kirkjubæjarklaustur, where lava samples were on display. 

On the left is Apalhraun (A'a) lava filled with gas that makes it porous and its surface rugged. On the right is Stuðuli (basalt) lava, which forms hexagonal columns as it cools.

This is a good introduction to Eldhraun, the world's largest lava field, covering about 565 km² and located south of the Ring Road between Kirkjubæjarklaustur and Vík.

On June 8, 1783, preceded by several earthquakes, the Laki crater fissure opened, and approximately 12–14 km³ of basaltic lava poured over part of southern Iceland. The eruptions lasted until February 7, 1784, and are considered one of the largest documented in recorded history.

The eruption devastated much of southern Iceland. Approximately 10,000 people (about 20% of the population) died from famine and fluorine poisoning, as toxic gases destroyed livestock and crops. In Iceland, this is called Móðuharðindin (the fog disaster), as aerosols spread across the Northern Hemisphere, causing crop failures and a cooler summer. Some historians think that the poor harvests in France and the resulting famines were one trigger of the  Revolution.

The vegetation is hraungambri (fringed moss) that thrives on nutrient-poor, porous lava rock because it absorbs water and nutrients not through roots but through a fine network of leaves. Over about 250 years, a thick, cottony-soft layer of moss has formed, up to 40-60 cm thick in places. When dry, it appears grayish-white (little rain in Iceland, too), but when wet it glows a rich green. The moss is extremely delicate, which is why it is only allowed to walk along marked trails. Once trampled, the moss takes decades to recover.

Low-hanging clouds and a little church

Vík, Iceland's southernmost town, is not far from Dyrhólaey, the southernmost point of the Icelandic mainland.

Tourists were everywhere, and a cheeky fly had settled on the sign.

  

Dyrhólaey (door hill island) is thought to have formed 80,000 years ago in a submarine volcanic eruption. 

Atlantic waves have since eroded the black lava columns, forming the sand and leaving vertical cliffs.

Looking south, you notice a gigantic black arch of lava standing in the sea, eroded by the waves. The rock protrusion extending from the mainland, with the hole, gave the peninsula its name, Dyrhólaey (door hill island).

As promised by the tour operator, we not only enjoyed a spectacular view of the coastline, but since it was summer, we had the chance to spot numerous adorable puffins.

In German, these cute birds are called Papageientaucher (parrot divers).

We continued toward Reykjavík and passed the Skógafoss waterfall.

The Eyjafjallajökull and Myrdaljökull glaciers. To the left is Iceland's capital, Reykjavík

The river Skóga is fed by meltwater from the Eyjafjallajökull and Myrdaljökull glaciers. When the water reaches the cliffs, it rushes down as a beautifully shaped waterfall: Skógafoss, 15 m wide and 62 m high.

These cliffs formed from marine erosion at the end of the last Ice Age, when the sea level was much higher than it is now. As the glacier melted and its weight lifted, the land rose out of the sea.

Our ever-concerned tour guide, Andrí, is looking for his flock.

©Steinninn/Wikipedia

After we arrived in Reykjavík, we visited a national shrine. In front of the church stands the statue of Leif Eiríksson, the Iceland-born early explorer of the Americas.

Hallgrímskirkja* is a Lutheran parish church in Reykjavík built in Icelandic modernism and natural aesthetics. The form is inspired by basalt columns. It is Iceland's largest church and, at 74 meters, the country's second-tallest building.

*The church is named after the Church hymn writer and cleric Hallgrímur Pétursson

Since its completion in 1986, it has been regarded not only as Reykjavík's architectural landmark but also as an important symbol of Iceland's national identity.

I focused on the statue of Christ on the left.

The statue is a replica of the original located in Copenhagen Cathedral (Vor Frue Kirke). Kristus is considered one of the most significant works of Scandinavian classicism by the Danish sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen.

But this artwork in the church's northern aisle intrigued me.

Known as Madonna And Child, Hallgrímskirkja, Reykjavik

A stained-glass window depicts Mary and the Baby Jesus. A Marian chapel in a Lutheran church? Red Baron asked ChatGPT.

Hallgrímskirkja received the stained-glass window of the Virgin Mary as a gift, and indeed parishioners initially found its acceptance controversial. However, the church is not simply decorated in a Catholic style; rather, Mary is understood here in a Christological sense: the focus is not on Mary, but on the Christ Child.

In an ancient Christian iconographic tradition, Mary sits with the Christ Child in a cosmic, star-filled heavenly setting. She appears here not as a realistic mother, but as the Theotokos (God-bearer).

The Christ Child spreads his arms wide, which can be understood as a reference to his later crucifixion. In this way, the depiction links Christ's birth and Passion.

Were these also the reasons why Luther, despite his aversion to all saints, venerated the Mother of God throughout his life — and why there is a St. Mary's Church in Wittenberg and the Church of "Our Lady" in Dresden?

This ends the heptalogy of my Iceland blogs, as there are:

My Icelandic Diary

On Yule Lads, Alðingi and BCPPs

Of Craters, Rural Postmen, and Cruise Ships

Grenjaðarstaður and Myvátn

Dimmuborgir, Dettifoss and Hverarönd

Rjúkandafoss, Reyðarfjörður, Djúpivogur and Jökulsárlón

and this blog.

Goodbye, Iceland.