Journeys

The Season in Ostend
The season in Ostend signifies a colourful and unbroken alternation
of festivals and public events. For all who frequent this,
the largest and most elegant among the Belgian coastal resorts,
the motivation, officially at least, is that which otherwise incites
most people to visit bathing resorts: the need for peace and
relaxation. The person who, through the course of a year, has
the sense of being dragged through the stimulating and thrilling
round of metropolitan pleasures, who feels the pulse of life and
all their resilience stretched to the limit and is, one might say,
bloated with culture and refinement, becomes accustomed to
profiting from summer weeks of harmonious relaxation in the
calm contemplation of nature cut off from these energies. But
for the clientele of Ostend it’s different. For them, this summer
halt is not a rest, a chance to switch off, on the contrary it’s only
another shining link in the endless chain of society distractions,
an ersatz for the broiling boulevards of the metropolis, for their
theatres, their festivals, their gardens, which summer renders
unapproachable. Little by little Ostend has become the unofficial
rendezvous-location for the real and bogus aristocracy that
one sees floating like a spume above the waves of capitals,
everywhere encountering and recognising itself, and for whom
a home-town is merely a station in transit from which they
seek to reach the great international centres of pleasure. Ostend
shelters these welcome guests in high summer, from July to the
last days of August.
One could speak copiously and endlessly of these days without
ever evoking by a single word the happy situation of Ostend,
for in the overall canvas, nature is merely a backdrop. You might
say that here nature is only so prodigious in beauty in order
to glorify the triumph of modern civilisation and to provide
a frame worthy of its perfection, where within is celebrated
human beauty and mankind’s conquests in ingenuity. Here, the
effect of the shore does not depend on the view extending into
the distance over the sea, which bears to you a tangy and healthgiving
air, so much as on admiring the extraordinary elegance
of the hotels on the front and the splendid outfits of the women
gathered there as if they were promenading in the city. The pier,
which runs far out into the sea, signals the great achievements
of modern technology, the port with its elegant steamships and
yachts; the beach is of more interest for the particular style of the
bathing costumes and the rather prodigious display of freedom
of manners, than through any effect of its own. As has been said,
here nature is modest in comparison with the works of men, for
culture comes to stand facing her, all-conquering with its last,
most important and most refined achievements.
The physiognomy of Ostend is naturally the exact mirror
of its visitors. People most active throughout the year feel in
summer the need for idleness; on the other hand, those without
profession, or whose jobs do not detain them, always aspire to
some superficial occupation that they may satisfy here through
sport or gambling. One fact proves to what extent gambling
has become for Ostend a condition of existence: last year when
the gaming rooms had to be closed at Ostend and Spa, the
Belgian state wanted to award these two towns a compensation
package of seven million francs – a decree that for the moment
has not come to bear. In any case, the amount of compensation
gives a rough idea of the astonishing level of receipts that each
season’s gambling gives rise to.
The centre of Ostend’s world of elegance is the Kursaal. This
splendid and substantial edifice stands alongside the sea wall,
flanked on both sides by rows of the most elegant villas offering
a view from the rear over Léopold Park and the town. In the
great room, afternoons and evenings, the distinguished public
of Ostend attend concerts; particularly in the evening when the
men may only appear in society dress or dance attire, and
women of all nations compete in the magnificence of their
outfits and jewellery, when the vast room is filled to capacity
by the noble ranks of the beau monde – and this is true even of
the demi monde – in such moments Ostend leaves a veritably
grandiose impression, even on the inhabitants of a major city.
Every day after the concert they give a ball; but the majority of
visitors retire then to the other rooms at the rear of the casino,
which form part of the assembly rooms. In the first the gambling
is public and open to all; of course, here the turnover is not
so high and the most audacious bid for Red or Black is fixed at
three hundred francs. Gambling properly speaking takes place
at Cercle Privé, the biggest club in Ostend, which nevertheless
does not operate a rigorous admissions policy and requests a
mere twenty francs for the price of entry. There unfold the most
interesting scenes, which from the very next day are customarily
the talk of the town; losses and wins of several thousand
francs at Roulette. The most sumptuous outfits mix together,
sometimes belonging to real princesses, sometimes to princesses
of the music hall; one encounters here also numerous cosmopolitan
people of whom no one knows anything other than
that they frequent all the world’s casinos and are never absent
so long as the gaming rooms remain open. And this scene continues,
unchanged, from morning until the dawn of the following
day.