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….cont.
Monday 19 April 2010: I’m woken by Emmet reacting to a dream. It’s an abrupt awakening, but after a satisfying nights sleep I’m not fussed. Outside is the hum of people biking and boating their way to work. The clothes I washed in the hotel sink the night before have dried on the radiator. Emmet and I pack the bag before deciding to stay another night in our hotel. We’ve learnt from experience that we’re unlikely to be able to book any mode of transport out of the city for the same day, so plan on another night of comfort before we’re back sleeping in our seats. We trek back to the library but not before stopping off to have a pancake and omelette for breakfast. At the library I spend time Googling transport options while Emmet emails all and sundry to let them know we’re stuck but okay. I manage to coordinate three buses, one from Amsterdam to Brussels through the Dutch Eurolines website, one from Brussels to London through the Belgian Eurolines website, and the final leg from London to ol’ Dublin town through the UK version of the Eurolines website. With no direct route available, this was our only option. Emmet handed over his credit card as his is in Euros, mine is in Aussie dollars, and I made the bookings. Emmet runs back and forth between me, the printer, and the print voucher machine until we have all of our tickets in our hot little hands. It takes a few hours to coordinate, but when we’re done we can spend the afternoon relaxing in Amsterdam.
We walk down some shopping streets as Emmet has wrecked his jeans around the ankles. He wears jeans almost every day so it’s no wonder they die quite horrific deaths. He tries on a pair and we take them. He also has a look for some shoes but the prices are quite high and we can’t seem to find anything decent on sale. Never mind. We stop in at a Waterstones and pick up some reading material for the onward journey. I get a colourful magazine as I can’t read on buses without getting a headache. Emmet gets something far more intellectual. We both get a left over Easter egg on sale at the counter. We wander through the streets and along the canals until we’re back at the hotel. We prepare ourselves an in-room picnic and eat sandwiches, cheese and salad. Emmet drinks a beer he has been lusting after for some time. It tastes like chocolate. We check the news and hear that airports may begin opening from tomorrow. I hear the sound of what might be a plane and Emmet opens the window. The plane! At least another three follow it before we fall asleep.
Tuesday 20 April 2010: Back in our travel outfits – trackies, t-shirts, cardigans and coats – we load up the backpack with supplies and head on over to Amsterdam Amstel for our 12.30pm bus to Brussels. The woman at the desk tells us there’s an earlier bus and offers us a seat, which we take. She also informs us that she had a number of spaces on a bus to London this morning. Bugger! When we arrived in Amsterdam there was quite a crowd, and anticipating the same today we had opted for booking online rather than just arriving at the ticket office to see what services were going in our direction. Never mind. We get on the bus and leave Amsterdam behind us. There’s a fellow on the bus who seems to be stoned. He’s making nervous movements that are making me a little nervous too. He keeps taking to the driver and seems to have trouble operating the toilet door. Soon he relaxes into his seat and we’re half way to where we need to be. The driver has his own issues going on as he follows the GPS a little too faithfully and takes us to a pedestrian street with an overpass his bus is too big to pass under. He puts the bus into reverse and sends a passenger out to make sure the road is clear. It’s anything but. We have to negotiate trams, bikes and less than impressed Mercedes drivers, none of whom care to be inconvenienced for the few minutes it would take our driver to turn around. Eventually he’s out of the tight squeeze and we’re off again.
We arrive in Brussels and check with the Eurolines desk to see if there is an earlier bus to London. Ours is scheduled to leave at 10.45pm. It’s around 4pm when we arrive in Brussels. It appears not. We walk into town and grab a bite to eat in a shopping mall. Brussels is not my favourite place, although Emmet has a soft spot for it. We buy the newspaper and read up on all we have been missing without access to English news. Emmet buys some comfy, and less smelly, shoes and I consider purchasing a radio for the next leg but opt not to.
Emmet calls home from the train station before we head back to the Eurolines waiting room. It begins to fill with people and we’re glad we have a ticket. There’s a rush to join the queue when it hits 9.30pm. A young lass has an epileptic episode and is taken away in an ambulance. Fortunately she makes it back in time to take her bus home. We are checked on bus number 12, which is one of the latter buses to leave even though it was the first to be allocated. We get seats together and the journey continues, but not before some hiccups with passengers leaving their luggage on the footpath expecting someone to place it in the hold rather than doing it themselves! Six or seven buses left Brussels bound for London that evening. All full.
Wednesday 21 April 2010: It’s dark and I’m tired. There’s not much to be seen on the way to the ferry in Calais other than other buses and trucks passing us by in the same direction. Emmet is watching, excited and curious as to whether we’ll be taking a ferry or going via the Channel Tunnel. We’re headed for the ferry. We get off the bus briefly for a passport check by both French and UK authorities. The French guards are a little intimidating. I’m shaking like a leaf from the cold hoping it doesn’t make me look too suspicious in from of the man holding my passport. The British lady on the other side was much more upbeat for someone working at 1 in the morning. We board the ferry and have to stay awake for the duration of sail. Tea is welcomed, as are some Lindt chocolates Emmet had picked up in Brussels. The sea is dark. There’s nothing to see. We get back on the bus and drive along the Dover coast until we pick up the road into London.
The stop-start of London’s ample red lights wakes us both. A wave of joy passes over me, quickly followed by the dread of having to wait 12 hours for our connecting bus to Dublin. I’m too tired for anymore of this. The five hours to Brussels, the five hours waiting time and the seven hours to London have taken it out of me and I get the shakes from exhaustion. When we arrive at London the bus station is full of lost souls. It’s difficult to tell the difference between stranded travellers and the homeless. The toilets are locked, which does not please me as I’ve been holding it for quite some time. We arrive ten minutes ahead of the scheduled check-in time for the next bus to Dublin, leaving at 6am. We wait. Emmet jumps in the line and hands over his ticket to the lady, who subsequently hands him our boarding cards. I’m pleased and have a new-found burst of adrenalin keeping me upright. Emmet worries that the Eurolines lady hasn’t read his ticket properly and not seen that it’s actually for the 6pm bus. He rejoins the queue to make sure we’re not taking the place of someone else on the bus. We’re not, so we take our seats and wait to depart. The driver allows eight additional passengers to board. They’ve been in the bus station a while now waiting as stand-by passengers. I’m glad to see them join the bus. Within twenty minutes of boarding we’re bound for Dublin and I am happy that our homeward journey is now some 12 hours from coming to an end.
I’m not envious of the couple in front of us having a blue. They’re going to be spending the next 12 hours together and she’s totally ignoring his pleas. A random Irish lass boards the bus and begs the girl in front for a sip of her water. She’s perished, apparently. She remains obnoxious for the remainder of the journey. Thankfully Emmet and I are far enough away from her to listen in without having to enter into any direct contact. Somewhere along the way she mentions how lucky we are to have been trapped in such ‘civilised’ countries. I’m not sure what she means by that but feel I should be either ashamed or embarrassed on behalf of someone. This journey’s discomfort is also physical. It’s the tightest of all the buses so far. It’s also the coldest. A woman in front of us complains to the driver who turns up the air conditioning after a short pit stop. We’re in Watford. I think. It’s soon too hot on the bus as the sun beats down through clear skies and the massive bus windows. The whole journey there has been nothing but sunshine and I wonder how far up this ash cloud is supposed to be if there’s absolutely no sign of it from the ground. My suspicions are confirmed as my Irish companions begin to melt…the Irish don’t cope well with heat. The same woman who asked for the temperature to be raised asks for it to be turned back down again. The air conditioning is stuck. The driver can’t pull over as the bus too is stuck, in traffic. There’s only just enough time to get to the ferry before it leaves so we make do with random bursts of cool air and slowly warming bottles of water.
The English countryside is glorious in the sunshine. The contrasting green fields and blue sky are stunning. Wales too. Especially around the coastline. Spring is truly in the air, with the leaves of the trees breaking through and flowers blooming. I entertain my inner child and announce ‘sheeps’ and ‘cows’ as we travel along. There are youngsters and mothers hanging out in every species. Soon enough we’re an hour from the ferry’s scheduled departure time. 40kms to go. Wait, no, it’s 40 miles! Damn it, there’s no town nor port in sight! It’s a photo finish but we make it in time to be waved on board, minutes before the ferry pulls away. We’re so close!
The inscription on my wedding ring reads ‘…and yes I said yes I will Yes’, quoting Molly Bloom’s soliloquy from James Joyce’s Ulysses. Emmet’s has it too. And that day, Wednesday 21 April 2010, the Ulysses brought us home to Dublin.
Just about any town you travel to will have a church or other religious establishment, theatre, concert hall, museums, galleries and statues of cultural and historical relevance to the local people, if not the country as a whole. Listed with UNESCO as a World Heritage Site, Bruge is no exception. The medieval town is steeped in history. There are some sixteen official museums in Bruges covering fine and contemporary arts, archaeological findings, and two historical hospital sites now functioning as museums.
In Bruge, it is an experience enough just wandering through the narrow cobblestone streets within the very dense and maze-like city proper admiring the medieval architecture while following the routes of the canals that are the arteries of the town. There are religious figures all around, watching over you from the corners of buildings. Churches too are omnipotently present as their spires tower over all other buildings. There is the Basilica of the Holy Blood, which is said to house a phial of cloth coated in the blood of Christ, which was retrieved from the Holy Land following the Second Crusade. The relic is displayed before and after mass on Fridays. Michaelangelo’s Madonna of Bruges, allegedly his last remaining in tact sculpture, is located at the Church of Our Lady, the tower of which is the tallest in the city making for a great directional marker for lost tourists. I can easily see how one might consider Bruges to be the earthly equivalent of purgatory, see In Bruges (or not, if you don’t like black comedy or graphic violence), what with all the holy faces looking down on you while you’re in what could potentially be a very slow although picturesque location. NB: the dog from the film is still sitting in the window overlooking the canal.
However, what we chose to see on our all to brief encounter with Bruges was a little different. For the less culturally advanced a visit to Bruges may mean a visit to the Frietmuseum, the world’s first museum dedicated entirely to fries. Fries, yes, fries. By which I mean those thinly sliced deep fried, salted, sauced, vinegar-ed or mayonnaise-ed fingers of potato that often accompany a burger, steak or fillet of fish. For anyone who wasn’t aware, fries are apparently Belgian in origin. According to the legend, the name ‘French fries’ comes from the American soldiers who during the First World War mistook their Belgian counterparts as French, hence, we have French fries. Either this, or they called them French fries because the official language of the Belgian army at the time was French. I’m not sold on either, but makes for a great museum display. There is significant preparation and work that occurs prior to fries actually landing on your plate, or as in Belgium, in a paper cone. The potatoes must be washed and dried, cut and rewashed, par boiled and packaged, and of course before any of this can occur they need to be planted, grown and harvested. Once you have ordered the fries they are deep fried in (hopefully) clean oil, ideally you oil should be changed after ten batches of fries have been through it. They should then be shaken and drained before being salted and served. Phew! The museum also goes through the history of potatoes, their different varieties, which are best for making French fries and how they got from South America to Europe in the first place. There is also a collection of Belgian popular culture references to french fries with displays of postcards, comic strips, collectibles and other curios. In any case, if you’re young at heart the museum will have you leaving with a smile n your face and some salt on your lips as you get a 40 cent discount on a cone of fries at the museum shop with your ticket. The museum is located at Vlamingstraat 33, 8000, Bruges. Entry costs around 6 Euro, although you can purchase a combination ticket for the Frietmuseum, Choco-Story (the chocolate museum) and/or Lumina Domestica (the lamp museum) for around 10 Euro for two museums, or 15 Euro for all three.
Now you really can’t have savoury if not followed by sweet. Our next stop was Choco-Story, Bruges’ own chocolate museum. Choco-Story is conveniently located just around the corner from the Frietmuseum and in the same building as Lumina Domestica, at Sint-Jansstraat 7b, Bruges. The museum’s exhibition is displayed across several floors of what was originally a wine tavern in about 1480, but that has changed hands and served numerous functions since this time. The exhibition covers the history of the use cacao by the Myans and Aztecs who believed it to be a gift from the gods, how the cocoa plant and the tradition of making its fruits into a drink travelled to Europe, information on the cocoa plant itself, and the extraction of the various elements of the plant and the combination of ingredients used to make various chocolate products. There is also information on the Belgian chocolate industry and the creations of pralines by Belgian chocolateirs. Interestingly, one display dispels the belief that chocolate makes you fat, but recommends that if you are fat you might consider slimming down before enjoying chocolate in moderation! At the end of the tour is a live demonstration of how Belgian chocolates are made, by hand, and of course a sample. However, for those of us with nut intollerences there was no trying today, for partners of those of us with nut intollerences there were two samples to be tasted and enjoyed.
All in all it was a bit of fun, and a lovely day trip from Brussels taking just over an hour to reach and costing around 26 Euro return for a 2nd class adult seat. If you are considering visiting Bruges you might find it useful to visit the Official Bruges City Website, which details the various sightseeing opportunities, festivals and events, recommends accommodation and provides general information on hospitality.
The great thing about Brussels is that it’s relatively close to all other towns and cities within Belgium, as well as those over the borders in the Netherlands, France, Germany and Luxembourg, all of which are serviced by regular rail, bus or tourist providers. This makes Brussels a fantastic base from which you can take a few day trips. On the Thalys Paris is around an hour and a half away, Amsterdam around two and a half hours. However, you need to book and fix your passage ahead of time or else a return ticket to Paris can cost you around 180 Euro for a comfort 2 seat, compared with 50 Euro return if you book over 30 days ahead of schedule.
An alternative, if you only have a day to spare for traveling outside of Brussels is to take a guided tour, which will provide you with the mode of transport, visits to some attractions you might have otherwise missed along the way to your destination, and a background of the country, cities and towns you’ll be visiting. With neither of us having been to Luxembourg, and with some scepticism about there actually being something worth doing there – it is tiny and really only good for banking – we decided that a guided tour might be the way to go. We booked the Luxembourg and Ardennes tour through City Discovery, basically because it let me choose to pay in Australian dollars, which contracts a local company to provide the tour. Our driver was Michael and our tour guide, Marc.
Before you do decide that a guided bus tour is for you there are a few things that might be worth considering. Most significantly, you are on a bus full of people you probably otherwise would have absolutely no interaction, by choice or otherwise. Generally speaking you don’t have to associate with them too much, but depending on the distance to your destination and the number of rest breaks you have en route, you may have to consider just how much you can take of the large American fellow in the adjacent seat going on about what happened during the Second World War and how much he has been affected by it even though he is obviously too young to have served any time. He’ll also yell at the guide up the front to find out which side Luxembourg’s only synagogue is on. It was on the right hand side, and to be honest not all that impressive in the scheme of synagogues worldwide. Then there are the obligatory two fat ladies, who, during the walking tour of the city, are audibly complaining through heavy pants, distracting from the interesting tidbits the guide has rote learned just for us. I truly think the sample of people you find on any tour is the same – there’s the elderly couple spending the kids and grandkids inheritance, the young couples who keep to themselves and general wander around holding hands and taking photographs of themselves, there’s the two fat ladies whose husbands are long gone or never were, and the middle aged parents with the grown up kids on that last family holiday. Can you guess which stereotype we were?
Our tour took us out of Brussels and through Namur province with our first stop in the cliff side town of Dinant. The town of Dinant is steeped in history with its territory much sought after due to its apparently strategic location. It was the site of much atrocity particularly during the First World War, but is also the home of the creator of the saxophone, Adolphe Sax. Two options were given to us during our short visit to Dinant, first, a visit to the Citadel perched high on the clifftop overlooking the township, or second, a visit to the House of Sax. Okay, I don’t think it was actually called that, but apparently it literally is the house in which Adolphe grew up.
Emmet and I chose the Citadel visit at a cost of about 6 Euro each with a group discount, which began with a scarily cramped, some 17 of or new best friends from the bus, trip on a cable car to reach the clifftop. The view from above is pretty spectacular. You can see or miles, beyond the town itself an on to the farms and fields in the distance. There’s a river running through the town, which has been the border for significant division between settlements over time. None the less, the cable car journey was worth it when we arrived at the top. The Citadel is an interesting place. It’s walls are some 5 metres thick and there would have been very little light inside as the only windows are those wide enough to fire a 2 metre rifle from. It’s cold and imposing, the ceiling is low and the smell is damp. Being hauled up inside there with hundreds of other soldiers would have bee quite a harrowing experience. It’s understood that the Citadel itself was the scene of at least one brutal confrontation, unfortunately I haven’t been able to locate more detail of what the guide told us online, but it involved the French and German soldiers and the use of bayonets. The ashes of the soldiers who’s lives were claimed were cremated together just days after the massacre occurred. Somehow the divisions of nationhood that existed in their lifetimes were diminished after death. The Citadel now maintains a museum containing artifacts and displays on that period with guided tours provided by locals who appreciate a tip at the end of your tour if you’re willing to give one.
Dinant is also famous for its cookies, or croques, which we discovered after the fact are Europe’s hardest biscuit! They’re flavoured with honey and have the consistency of a gingerbread biscuit but are obviously bound with some sort of eating cement as they are impossible to bite, sucking on them doesn’t seem to loosen the dough and are probably really only good for hitting a mugger over the head. Although here I am making assumptions and do not advocate anyone testing this theory.
Onward from Dinant and we stopped again at Rochefort, a small town with a population of just over 12,000. Here we stopped in for a taste of the local produce, a beer produced by the Trappist Monks of the Abbey of Notre-Dame de Saint-Remy.
The tour arrived in the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg around lunch time, with a brief tour provided before an arranged lunch or the opportunity to find your own alternative eating arrangement. The tour covered the basics of Luxembourg City, the likely named capital of the Grand Duchy, with some interesting tidbits worth taking away. For example, the vast majority of the population of Luxembourg are Catholic, followed by Protestant and Jewish in the minority. Luxembourg has a high income economy and is well known for its banks, which appear to be on every street corner, and if not the street corner then every other building along the street. Allegedly one in twenty of the population of Luxembourg is in someway employed by a banking institution. Apparently, it takes five years to become a citizen of Luxembourg, with one of the first requirements employment within the Grand Duchy. If you are to become a citizen the Grand Duke himself is require to provide you with permission.
There really isn’t much to do in Luxembourg, especially on the weekends when most stores and all of the banks are closed. Tourist locations such as the town square will have a selection of eateries that may be open for the tourist trade. However, the view of the valley gardens is spectacular, and while shops may not be open all that is needed is a pair of walking shoes, a picnic blanket and a good book. The city is divided in two, with the older town on one side and the newer EU buildings on the other. Either side is linked together by a series of bridges with a valley full of green space in between, a truly unique experience and a welcome change to the traditional set up of European cities.
Next time…In Bruges.
The City Sightseeing Hop On Hop Off open top bus tour service is a great way to get your bearings in a new city, and Brussels is no exception. The 90 minute tour makes 13 stop on a loop around the city, beginning and ending at the Central Station, however, the beauty of these tours is that you can purchase your ticket and begin the tour at any stop along the way. The first time around, I recommend taking the tour in its totality as this will allow you to see exactly where the tourist attractions are in relation to one another and help you to decide what you might be interested in taking a closer look at later on. This is particularly helpful if you’re short on time. You will also get a good amount of trivia to take away for your next pub quiz as the buses come equipped with a multilingual soundtrack full of historical tidbits to give you a greater context of the city, its landscape and its monuments. Tickets for the Brussels tour cost 18 Euro for adults and 16 Euro for students and the ticket will last you for 24 hours, which means arriving late in the day gets you a few more hops on and off the following morning.
Once you’ve familiarised yourself with the general outlay of Brussels it’s probably time to grab a coffee and a waffle. There are street stalls, ice cream stores, cafes and bakeries dotted all over Brussels selling authentic Belgian waffles plain, sugared, with cream, chocolate, berries, you name it and they can probably do it for you. I recommend the cream and strawberries. Good coffee is difficult to come by, it’s generally inconsistent but most commonly filtered coffee from a machine and either weak or incredibly strong, somehow never a pleasant in-between. And a cappuccino is topped with dairy whip cream from a can rather than freshly frothed milk and chocolate powder. On one occasion we walked into a café/bar with the intention of sitting down to a coffee but were told there was a ‘problem’ with the water and would be not prefer a beer. We’re still not sure what he was washing the dishes in if the water wasn’t working! Drinking beer in Belgium is a national pastime with almost all cafés, restaurants and bars serving a wide range of locally produced beers. You can also purchase local beers at tourist shops, corner stores and supermarkets for 1-3 Euro a pop, including those varieties considered quite up market elsewhere in the world. Most regions in Belgium have a local beer with Trappist and Abbey brewed beers a specialty. There are six Trappist breweries within Belgium, and of those I know Emmet likes the Chimay, in particular Chimay Blue, which is brewed at the Scourmont Abbey and the Rochefort, try Rochefort 8, brewed in Saint-Remy. For the ladies, or those less used to the bitterness of beer, such as myself, the Belgians also have a penchant for brewing fruit infused beers known as lambics, with Framboise (raspberry) and Kriek (sour cherry) flavours possibly the most popular but other flavours available. I can recommend the Morte Subite and Belle Vue. Delirium Cafe in Brussels is a dingy and smokey place to drink, but none the less a Belgian icon boasting over 2000 types of beer ready to drink.
You wouldn’t be a tourist in Brussels if you didn’t head down to Grand Place, which is situated in the middle of town. The square itself is surrounded by brilliant gothic, baroque and neo-gothic buildings that can be truly imposing. The Town Hall (Hotel de Ville) is the centerpiece and is surrounded by terrace cafes and restaurants, a lace store and chocolate shops. The occasional market takes place in the square itself with the Town Hall apparently available for weddings – or so we witnessed on one of our trips into town. As with most areas of intense tourist interest the price goes up the closer you get to Grand Place, but on a sunny afternoon it’s not a bad place for a beer, coffee, sandwich or waffle.
If you’ve taken a stroll around Grand Place but aren’t quite ready to sit just yet head over to Godiva Chocolatier on the corner of Grand Place and pick up a chocolate dipped strawberry cone or box of fruit cups and head over to Brussels Park, which is right beside the Royal Palace (Palais Royale). It might seem like a bit of a walk judging by the map, but it is just that Brussels is an incredibly dense city; it shouldn’t take you more than a twenty minute stroll. A wander around the lungs of the city is a nice distraction from the stressed population of bureaucrats on a weekday or just something peaceful and nice to do on a weekend, when many of the workers have deserted the city and tourists are left to their own devices. The Palace is indeed a grand neo-classical structure overlooking a perfectly manicured garden before leading onto the cobblestone roadway, across the road from which is Brussels Park. The Palace is the official residence of the King Albert II who became King of the Belgians in August 1993. The Belgian flag flies at full mast when the King is within Belgium and is taken down when he is traveling. Unfortunately, the Palace was not open to the public during our trip, but it can be visited while the King is away from late July until late August. Even so, it is quite a site and well worth a visit.
If you’re happy to keep on wandering continue on beyond the Palace up a slight incline along Rue de la Regence, which will bring you to the Law Courts of Brussels (Palais de Justice), a foreboding structure incorporating a number of architectural styles. The façade is currently being renovated and so is in part obscured by scaffolding, but overall it is none the less impressive. In front of the Courts and to the right is a brilliant view of Brussels city, which, unfortunately we were not able to capture effectively with the camera. Once you’ve been awed by the views, you’ll notice you’re on the edge of a shopping area featuring an eclectic mix of luxury brands such as Tiffany & Co and Chanel on Boulevard de Waterloo, to H&M and the Zara flagship store along Avenue Louise. Part way down Avenue Louise you will find Place Stephanie. Heading back down Avenue Louise there are two side streets dedicated to pedestrians. One, Rue Jean Stas, has a small but decent selection of cafes and bars spilling out onto the street. Try Mamy Louise for a pastry or just a pot of tea before heading around the block to the parallel street, Rue Jourdan to treat yourself to some wholesome Italian cooking at Al Piccolo Mondo. I can recommend the buffalo mozzarella and tomato salad and the spaghetti bolognaise, followed by the tiramisu washed down with a glass of the house red to top off a truly Italian meal.
If you’re in Brussels close to the summer solstice there should be plenty of sunshine to guide you back to your hotel for the evening, but if that last spoonful of tiramisu has put you over the edge there is easy access to the metro and tram systems.
Of course, there is plenty more to do in Brussels, but for one day, this is probably enough. Again, taking the initial bus tour to show you where everything is helps you choose what you’d like to see again in more detail without having to crisscross the city. In brief we also saw the EU Quarter of Brussels, which consists mostly of large, modern and secure buildings and banners with unification slogans announcing upcoming conferences on climate change. As you may know, the European Council recently met in Brussels to discuss a number of things, which added to our lacking interest in revisiting the area mainly due to the massively increased security of the area, road blocks, detours, media and a protest by EU farmers. And (allegedly) following a robbery the EU Parliament is (allegedly) more difficult to get into these days than in the past, so we gave that one a miss, but should we need to go back to Brussels may consider making an application at that time. We also didn’t make it back to Parc du Cinquantenaire which features the Triumphal Arch. Although beautiful to see from the open top bus, the park was a little too far out of the town centre for my legs to take me, and due to other activities didn’t make it onto the list this time.
There is also the Brussels Expo featuring left over exhibitions from the 1958 World’s Fair, which now hosts events, markets and is a general exhibition space. The Atomium, a scale model of an iron crystal magnified 165 billion times, remains and is a functional museum and restaurant. Again, this one’s a little bit out of the city centre and although we were satisfied with the view from the tour bus it probably requires a day trip all on its own. We did, however, make it to Manneken Pis, the small, and I do mean small, bronze statue of a boy peeing into a fountain. We came around a corner just off Grand Place to find a group of tourists taking photographs of what looked like a crummy fountain. As we got closer we noticed that they were in fact photographing the statue, which is tiny and I’m not sure what all the fuss is about. Apparently they dress him up in seasonal costumes such as a Santa suit around Christmas time. He is replicated in all manner of tourist trinkets from bottle openers to postcards to corkscrews and candy! Some ingenious marketing ploy.
Tips for visiting Brussels:
- The place is closed and deserted on Sundays –the workers have gone home and most of the shops are closed, apart from around the really touristy areas. On the one hand it’s probably a good time to wander around without bumping into anyone, on the other, don’t be too picky about your lunchtime options.
- It’s probably a good idea to book an apartment or B&B with cooking facilities if you’re planning to stay more than a couple of nights so you can save money by not having to eat out for every meal, and you can pick up some greens in amongst what is an awful lot of brown food takeaway, sweets and pastries.
- Don’t be fooled by the tourist map, things aren’t really all that far away. Brussels, as with other Belgian towns and cities is incredibly dense, and for this reason the maps can look pretty daunting – the tour bus really puts this into perspective for you.
- People aren’t as friendly as you might like them to be. You have to remember that most of the locals probably aren’t ‘locals’ at all. Brussels can feel like a transient city with its population coming in during the week and leaving at the weekends.
- A little bit of French goes a long way in Brussels. Fortunately for me Emmet studied French at uni, but if you don’t have your own personal translator try to pick up the basics with a phrase book or, if you have one, a Blackberry or iPhone application, which can help with pronunciation too.
- Just because the beer is cheap it doesn’t mean you have to drink it. Take it easy, enjoy the Trappist beers but remember some of them are quite strong, and if they’re not strong they may be served in glassware portions larger than one standard drink.
- Belgium is the home of fries, so they’re everywhere. Beware too much brown food – it will mess with your tummy as it did with mine!
Still to come…fries and chocolate in Bruges and the banks of Luxembourg.
