An All-day Walk around Everyday Liege

Like the denizens of this green city in December, we couldn’t stay indoors for long, though we made our way from one cafe to another. Folks from all over Europe come every Sunday to the all-day flea market, which stretches at least a mile down the River Meuse. Center square was a flurry of activity at crafts booths on patterned cobblestone.

As we crowded in to buy some waffles, even there the branches of trees brushed against our faces. Liege is the entrance to the Ardennes, so frilly greenery casts its spell everywhere, even in the starkest of neighborhoods.

This city does have blocks where featureless buildings right on the sidewalk resemble workers’ housing. But even here (between the railway station and center square), the land slopes away to parks and to the river and then rises into hills, and all the while lush trees and frolicking landscape place this industrial town close to fairyland. The city of about 180,000 is enchanting. Statuary, turquoise with age, is at home with weeping-willow trees, still leafy in the crisp December air. Just what I thought the Old World should look like, Liege is authentic.

Perhaps it’s odd, the details of the city that imprinted their ghosts on my memory, but this was my first look at old Europe. The outdoors intrigued me as much as the gorgeous dogs sitting comfortably on chairs at the neighborhood cafe on the far side of the Meuse, while red-faced humans preferred sidewalk tables on this sub-freezing day that was bound to curl my shoulders. Walking on to St. Martin’s hill behind the square, we found old monasteries, convents, art schools, a 12th-century chuch in ruins, and my dream house. I peeked through the iron fence to take photos of the most perfect home in Belgium! Its charm and stately simplicity haunt me still. I recommend Liege as a city for walking.

Quick Tips:

Starting up the hill in back of the square, extremely colorful restaurants are in abundance. On up, we stopped so many times to gaze, read inscriptions on buildings, and take photos, it took us a while to make our way to the top of Mont St. Martin, where the church that was first built as a fortress stands partially covered with scaffolding. A local resident told us the restoration was "on hold" for lack of funds. This might be an interesting site only because of its history and age (1100s and before) and only for folks who want to see what an astoundingly huge job restoration can be! On past the church, a view of the city made the climb worth the effort.

Alongside the Opera House is the stop for bus #9 to Chateau de Jehay, residence of the present Comte de Jehay. We got on this bus, but when the driver wanted a hefty fare (2.75 euros, instead of the usual 1.05), we realized it must be too far to start out with the sky darkening. Next time, we’ll go there early. Meanwhile, the Opera House is a beautiful Italianate building worth photos.

Best Way To Get Around:

Brussels-to-Liege was our most exciting ride in Belgium. In the wooded foothills of the Ardennes, electric cars zipped the miles in 1 1/2 hours. Spires and turrets dotted the countryside. We didn’t see castles up close. I have read that one can't drive far in the Meuse Valley without finding them, so I’m thinking a bus for the morning ride out might be better. Our 5-day pass for unlimited rail travel was 58 euros at Brussels Airport.

The center, St. Lambert Square, isn't far from the station, but we veered left at the park, I believe, when we should have kept to the right. As we backtracked to the station for a bus, we found the narrow streets and alleys where old residences serve as doctors' offices, some quite different from any here and resembling more the establishments of fortune-tellers, with their dark arched doorways right on the narrow pavement.

A footbridge leads from St. Lambert Square to the far side of the Meuse, where one can walk along the river or into a neighborhood with apartment and government buildings, statuary avenues, and corner cafes. Attractions out of town require bus service.

Restoration of Holy Cross Church is "on hold" for lack of funds, we learned from an English-speaking resident of one of the ancient apartment buildings across the hilly street. The attraction here is the age of the former collegiate church founded in 979 by Bishop Notger, who was quite a hero of Liege when he replaced Bishop Lambert, who was assassinated in the 8th century. (Place St. Lambert is named after him.) Notger was the first prince-bishop of Liege who fortified the city and built the Palace of the Prince-bishops. This church was originally the fortress on the hill.

The restoration must be important to the preservation effort of the city, for Notger changed the history of Liege. He was the prince-bishop who made the city the capital of not only the diocese, but also of a state of the Holy Germanic Empire. In other words, it was because of Notger that the city was independent, able to manage its own affairs for more than 800 years! I’m thinking that love of independence the "hot-blooded" population is famous for must compel them to complete the restoration of this church built by their favorite champion of their rights. After all, the Palace of the Prince-bishops, built by Notger, is still intact, though historians say it little resembles the original.

The church on Mont St. Martin was a fortification when Liege was capital of the state that included a large part of all Wallonia, French-speaking Belgium. This takes us to the 18th century. A placard in front of the building tells us about other uses throughout the centuries, including the former Grady Manor, a residence and birthplace of the pianist and composer Cesar-Auguste Franck (1822-1890).

Our friend from across the street told us to walk around back, where an enclosed courtyard was interesting. Part of the "Manor," it has walls where more ancient stones meet more recent ones and various building styles come together, a kind of chronicle of the building’s history.

Parts of the church are clean, others still black and wrapped in scaffolding. I’ve included pictures of both for those who are interested in restoration efforts.

Holy Cross isn’t difficult to find--just go to the high corner of Place St. Lambert where the land rises to a hill, and walk the street to the right. Halfway up it, a sign at an intersection discusses the hill as the fortress area.

Except for the Palais des Prince-Eveques, Palace of the Prince-Bishops, this center square Place St. Lambert isn’t ancient. That doesn’t keep away folks from all over Europe when the Batte Markt, largest and oldest street market in Europe, is set up all day Sundays across the lower side of the sloping square and for a mile on down the River Meuse. There isn’t much to tour right on the square, as the palace isn’t open to the public, except for the gardens accessible through the open arch. Busy browsing at craft stalls, the crowd wasn’t looking for antiquity. This was an honest slice of local life, common working folks strolling around town in December looking for a moveable wooden toy for the toddler in the stroller.

Vendors had more than wooden toys: household items, beaded jewelry, hand-knit sweaters, candles, soap, waffles, exquisite tarts, chocolates, fish, rotisserie meats, and more. Determined to dine on local specialties, we had to squeeze through crowds at food booths and settled for a pork barbecue and some sweets--delicious! Feeling "guilty" for neglecting a salad or some fruit, I was reminded that in this frigid weather, I would burn those calories fast--so I went back for a whole bag of waffles! This was fun! It was like a fair--and the locals were 15% thinner than average Americans, like diet books claim. Perhaps they frequently stay out all day in weather like this!

Place St. Lambert is huge, and it has its charm. First, the land is enchanting as it slopes down to the Meuse and a footbridge to the Outremeuse or far side of the river. (This is where the craft stalls end and vans of flea-market vendors begin.) On this corner of the square, the grey-wrapped foothills of the Ardennes are visible, and at the opposite corner, the land rises to a hill, an ancient fortress. The vast space in between is our square, an open, pleasing place gently sloping with a few steps up to the palace at the highest point on the square. The palace, now the Court of Justice, though not open, is worth a close look, as it is the largest secular Gothic building in Europe. Accordingly huge in front of it, the size of the square made us forget we were in the middle of a city of over 180,000. Nature seemed close and abundant.

The square has other delights. I’m amused by modern art. Representative statuary, such as numerous identical columns rising up from open plazas to suggest an army or some virtues--these always make me smile. On Place St. Lambert, art ranges from the serious representation to the capricious with the little green airplane and its "dashing" pilot. I chuckled! Art was in trees--a guitar? Like Brussels, the city is dotted with outdoor surprises, modern and antique.

We walked until darkness and cold suggested we head for Gare Guillemans, the central train station. Buses 1-4 were circling the square.

We didn’t know where we were going, just that the bridge and the other side of the river looked interesting. So, this was the famous flea market in Liege! From higher ground, we could see far along the Meuse, but not the end of the row of vans. Interested in seeing more of the town, we passed up the flea market and crossed the bridge to the Outremeuse, or far side of the river.

Looking back, we decided the post office was an interesting building with its rounded turrets, and stopped for a picture before starting down the sidewalk by the water. Burr! Swarthier folks passed on bicycles while we looked at each other and communicated our desire to get away from the water: "Coffee."

This walk would be great for bicycling in summer. It is also the boarding point for boat tours along the Meuse. The Liege tourist office (En Feronstree 92) is supposed to have a list of these with info on each.

Back at the bridge, we walked south a few blocks and found more interesting government and apartment buildings, some statuary in the center of the avenue, and more statuary in center roundabouts. Watching our steps to avoid doggie droppings, we joked about modern statuary we would create: a giant scooper! We would put it smack in the center of Place St. Lambert for Belgians to contemplate! Seriously, this neighborhood was heavily populated by older apartment dwellers, many of them sitting out at sidewalk tables in the unusual cold--swarthy folks, who could easily handle those scoopers!

Dogs in restaurants are fine with me, so I followed one into a corner cafe. Here was the down-home local color I wanted, not the bright brasseries tourists frequent. With windows on two sides, we could get warm and watch the locals, more of them outside than in. A waiter brought us coffee, small and strong, and biscuits. Looking around, I saw that nobody had any food. So, this was a place to sit and drink coffee! Perhaps apartment dwellers wanted an excuse to get out and see people.

The locals sat. The ones outside waved at people passing. A few inside were alone. Four couples came in, two pairs at a time--double dates. One couple arrived and waited for another before they ordered. Everyone shook hands and conducted themselves very properly in this little corner hangout. These were people in their 50s on dates at the cafe on a Sunday afternoon. They had dressed and groomed too well for the weather (and too nice for this cafe!), the women in dresses too "soft" for the cold, but "pretty." We were Desmond Morris, privileged observers in a once-working neighborhood in a former industrial town. They were trying so hard to present themselves well to the people they were with, we noted, as we laughed at each other's bedraggled hairdos, mashed down by warm hats.

It’s an interesting neighborhool, Mont St. Martin, the old fortress hill that dates from the 10th century. Apparently, Liege has its share of social problems, and according to one resident of the hill, people still feel safe only here to this day. Amazing, how long a neighborhood’s reputation can persist! It’s no wonder, though, for the hill is replete with monasteries, convents, and little art schools. Who wouldn’t feel safe! Most buildings are guarded, anyway, with iron fences across center courtyards. Peeking through these and down hidden driveways and walks, we viewed gardens, statuary, and 10 centuries of building styles, including the brick Mosan style representative of the Meuse Valley.

Quaintness, even timelessness, charm, and simplicity characterize the hill. It’s easy here to forget the other, generic Liege--as well as the 20th century! It’s only a few blocks up from Place St. Lambert, the center market square, and an easy walk. However, we didn’t hurry, but stopped here and there to read inscriptions on buildings and sidewalk placards, to photograph, and to gaze.

Some of the more eccentric residents navigated the steep street on bicycles in the cold, and they disappeared through dark arched doorways right on the sidewalk. Others in cars turned into communal cobblestone driveways, ancient converted courtyards surrounded by homes and apartments grouped together--for safety. We were constantly reminded of the massacres and occupations of this historic city.

At the top of the hill, across from Holy Cross Church, a turn in the road widens to meet an extra-wide shared drive, where a light stone wall topped with yet another iron fence guards a perfect white house. Nine long windows are all hung with the same white tieback curtains, and potted topiaries are almost the only decoration around the attractive drive inside the gate. Simplicity! Lovely!

Another block to the right, the land abruptly drops off to reveal another hill a little distance away. This is an archeological excavation, where a huge reconstruction or restoration is underway. Interesting! We took pictures leaning over the stone wall. The terraced muddy hill across the way may be ready for me to explore when I return to Liege. For now, I was enthralled with the quaintness of Mont St. Martin.