We arrived in Brussels late. We had a connection with only 3 minutes in between, and of course missed it. It’s almost impossible to get from one platform to another in that amount of time, especially if you have to stop to see which platform to go to. We tried to run, but it peeled away just as we were close enough to reach the door. It was only an hour until the next train, and the time passed quickly, but I felt bad about showing up late to another couch surfers house, especially since he had mentioned preparing dinner for us.
We made it with only a little confusion and extra walking, and thankfully Emmanuel, our host, has made a quiche and was able to pop it in the oven upon our arrival. He also offered us a beer from his collection reserved to couch surfers. Emmanuel had radio head playing, and I noticed a pretty expansive collection music, mostly American Classics, but he also had some cds of more underground music. I was impressed. The quiche was ready quickly, he made one with deli meats, and another with potatoes––a Brussels classic, both were delicious. We ate and talked for a little while but went off to bed shortly. Our bed was in the basement and they had not yet turned the heat on, so it was very cold and the air was stale, still we were tired so we slept.
Around noon we headed out to the city center, or in Brussels: The Grand Place. Brussels is probably walkable based on its size, but it is confusing and just large enough that you we didn’t really want to, so we often took the metro. The metro in Brussels was my least favorite thing about Europe so far. It was crowded, tense, smelly, and loud. I was just glad to get off and back up to street level. When we got downtown we stopped for lunch. I got quiche again, this time with broccoli and roquefort, a good stinky cheese. We finished up and headed over to the Grand Place, stopping for chocolates, and to see the 'Manneken Pis' on the way. The Manneken Pis is a very small statue of the little boy peeing. It is periodically dressed by high up visitors of Brussels. There are many tales about why Brussels has a peeing boy statue, most of which involve the boys mother or father losing the boy, and then finding him peeing somewhere. On rare occasions, the statue gets hooked up to a keg of beer and share beer with anyone passing by. All in all the statue makes quite an impression given its size.
When we made it to the Grand Place I was blown away by the the beauty of the architecture and the scale of the space (I would say almost 300 ft long). It seemed underutilized at the time, but I would assume the dynamic changes at different times of day and year. We continued to wander into lace shops, which Belgium is known for––particularly Bruges and Brussels, each has their own style and technique.
That afternoon we made our way to the “Park of Brussels.” It was a cold weekday so the park was not really alive, but it was still beautiful. It was my first time experiencing a formal, axially organized park. From the center you have four clear views of distant, but significant buildings in Brussels. Trees lined each path, framing the views. Sculptures of significant people were placed evenly in a circle around the center as well as throughout the park. The park seemed relatively flat and simple at first, but I found one edge that dipped down 15 or 20 feet below street level. Down there was a lush romantic path where I saw people holding hands, and hidden sculptures, one of which I was inspired to draw. The sun had set at this point and we had made plans to go to an old cinema near the park.
The cinema was showing an old black and white silent slap-stick comedy, with a live pianist––as much of a novelty as it is a mouthful. The movie was essentially about a socially awkward and kind of stupid character that is always getting himself in t some sort of trouble. It was entertaining and a generally enjoyable experience.
We headed back toward the center of town to grab some food and drinks, remembering someone had mentioned a concert in the Grand Place that night. The concert was fairly humble considering the available space, something I’ve heard is typical of Brussels. Still it was funky, and fun, and enough people were groovin’ out to make it engaging. The Grand Place was even more beautiful at night, and I was actually happy it wasn’t packed with people.
We walked about a block away in search for food, and found a greek restaurant to sit down in. A cat immediately sat down between Irene and I and stayed there snuggling with us until we left. If the food wasn’t so awful it would have felt like home. I also ordered a cherry beer, which was recommended by Emmanuel. It tasted more like cherry soda than beer, which is surprising and strange, but I still enjoyed it. We moved on to a bar just across the street, this time ordering more traditional Belgium beers. After our first round of drinks, our waiter told us that the man across the room was the owner and wanted to buy us drinks, so I ordered something expensive. Later, our waiter came back over and said, “Actually he wasn’t really the owner, he was just trying to impress you. I am the owner, and I cannot let you go without a drink from me, so the next round is on me.” After this point feeling pretty good, and it was getting pretty late for a weekday so we started to get our coats and things. The waiter came over one more time, this time with shots already in his tray. Its hard to resist free drinks, so we took the shot, tipped well, and headed out. With the metros off and a rain drizzling down we splurged a bit on a cab ride home.
The next morning we let ourselves relax, but made sure to pick up a Belgium waffle on the way out. It was just street food, but it was by far the best waffle I have ever eaten. The waffles, chocolates, beers, lace, architecture all made for a sweet and beautiful experience, but the metro along with some of the food and unmentioned unfriendly people tainted our perception of Brussels, which is why I am calling the overall experience Bittersweet.
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