Around Antwerp in a Couple of Beers.

The coziness and reassurance of a well-worn, well-warmed pub in October. Being American, I know about bars. And the Belgians can call this a café or whatever they want. But this is a pub.

I'm hiding in the loft at the Paters Vaetje, just across the road from central Antwerp's Cathedral. The "Monk's Casket" has been a familiar friend of traveling beer lovers for years, but this is my first time. Crowds, companions and the nearby Kulminator thwarted my previous attempts. But this time I am early, and alone, and thirsty. And in no particular hurry.

So from my upper-floor table I'm looking down on the punters glued to the bar. They get to choose from any of 102 beers here, so naturally they opt for pils and bollekes. I go for 37.5 cl of Drie Fonteinen Oude Gueuze at €4, which is a steal. The music has been mellow — Neil Young, Simon and Garfunkel, Bob Dylan — avoiding the overplayed standards. Less mellow is the barmaid. And now I understand the punters a little better. Sorry boys, but the view is better from up here.

Later I head for the Oud Arsenaal. The chalkboard beer list is impressively obscure, but I settle for a three-year-old Rochefort 10. It would be easier to enjoy if there were about 50 percent less smoke and 90 percent fewer people. One small room is all this place has, and there are more people standing than sitting. I reckon the seats, all 16 or so of them, were gone at opening time.

Hard to get comfortable. Hard to have a chat. Hard to think. Easy enough to drink.

Yep. This is a bar.