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I didnt have any intention of stumbling on a fascinating new place.
I was visiting my long-time college friend Anne, who had been living in Belgium intermittently for two decades.
Lets go to Mechelen, she said.
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Its like a mini Bruges, with no tourists.
Odd, Anne said.
Even though Belgium is Catholic, Ive never seen priests on a train.
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A short walk from the train station, we plunged into a striking medieval painting.
Sundays are generally quiet in most European towns, but the town center buzzed with people.
Overshadowing the square, the GothicSt.
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The current one soars only 319 feet.
Lets get coffee, David said.
We crossed the street opposite the church, and Anne led us to a tucked-away, indoor-outdoor cafe calledKuub.
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Next destination: Het Anker brewery, one of Belgiums most storied brewers.
A well-dressed crowd gathered before the churchs grand but closed doors.
Anne asked one of the sentinels in Flemish.
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The new archbishop is being ordained, he said.
They smiled and waved to us as they made their way to the ordination as invited guests.
Its where lay religious women lived in the community without taking vows.
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They were self-sufficient, with bakeries, care centers, and churches.
Today, the picturesque homes are privately owned by lucky residents who maintain beautiful gardens of roses and geraniums.
We hung out for an hour, an hour and a half who knows?
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Just as the first sip of the caramel-imbued Classic tantalized me, David joined us, excited.
We choseLocal Table and Tap, settling into a table right on the square.
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