Heart to heart with Brussels
The best thing I remember about Brussels is its people. They are the salted caramel filled chocolate bonbons (more Pierre Marcolini and less Ricky Martin) of the earth. I want to return to Belgium simply because of the lovely people I met there.
To begin with, our Airbnb host Fabrice was a very interesting person and his cat Murdoch questioned our intentions in the sleekest, miaow-est way. But I’m getting ahead of myself. When we got there, we didn’t expect to love Brussels the way we do right now. In fact, we outright disliked it. As far as first impressions go, Brussels really played hard to get.
We arrived in Brussels on a very confusing, very unwelcoming Sunday. The bus-station was deserted and so was the outsides of the bus-station. Sahit went out to find us a cab and after about twenty minutes came back with a very weird but alarming report - “I think the Apocalypse happened while we were on the bus from Amsterdam. There isn’t a single car out there and children are playing on the streets.” Not one single car. All our attempts at Uber failed - and then finally, about two hours later we found transport. After ages, on a hot afternoon with everything shut and us desperately thirsty and tired, in a city that would not turn a kind face to us, feeling quite hopeless, we finally found a vehicle - at exorbitant surge pricing. Travel Tip #1: Don’t arrive at Brussels on a hot No-car Sunday afternoon!!
Once we had found transport, our next problem was reaching our Airbnb host. Only to find that there were messages and calls from him the previous day, which I’d ignored because I was sick and distracted. Fortunately for us, his directions were impeccable and we found his apartment building. It was a lovely district called Forest. Forest is a lovely neighbourhood with enough trees, parks and greenery to do that name credit.
We piled our luggage out in the front, rather unattractively and waited for Fabrice to answer our call. Still tired, still thirsty, still hungry and still feeling quite hopeless. Just was I was beginning to get used to the idea of prematurely disliking Brussels, a woman walked up the garden path. We schooched our stuff out of the way with an apologetic smile to let her pass. Any ordinary person would have nodded, walked by and immediately forgot us. But not this woman. She paused and in a very lovely mixed-French accent asked “Are you waiting for Fabrice?”
We nodded wearily, trying our best to be friendly. She tried calling him on the intercom and his phone. And she went “I think it’s going to be a long time before Fabrice arrives. You should come in and wait”
Come in? Katalyna was inviting two very brown people she had never seen in her life, into her lovely art-nouveau-accented apartment, so that they could wait for their Airbnb host. Who does that? Well turns out that Belgians do - or at least Brussels-ians do. We didn’t want to impose and so we refused first. But she insisted. And honestly a drink of water was beginning to sound really good. But no, she gave us some lovely tea and made us feel very welcome. Our first friend in Brussels.
Katalina, originally Hungarian but now pretty much Brussels-ian, played the baroque violin - an opera level musician. And back then I remember being charmed by the idea of making parallels with Vikram Seth’s An Equal Music. And honestly, like how one character sought the other, I still try to find her in the online world, if nothing but to let her know that we cherish her kindness.
A couple of hours later Fabrice arrived - from a parade that he had directed. Looking mildly annoyed that he had to worry about these errant guests of his while he worked. I apologised for missing his messages, and he forgave us immediately. Fabrice is and I think will be one of the most interesting people I have met in my travels. I’ve talked about my fascination for this fascinating man in my Ghent travelogue. And his apartment - OH MY GOD! Forest appears to be slightly elevated, and Fabrice’s apartment, though just on the second floor had a view that went on for gorgeous mile after mile. Let’s just say other than for the first couple of hours, Brussels was a gallant, kind host, one that left us wondering “Why are people so nice?”
The next day, when we ventured forth to explore the city with nary a plan except put away as much Belgian chocolate as possible, we got lost. We met this boy, someone we asked for directions, I forget his name - Ahmed or Ibrahim. He actually accompanied us back to where we were wanted to get to, though it was in the opposite direction he was going, because he couldn’t quite communicate (he spoke French and we understood English) how we could find our way. He literally went out of his way so that we could find ours. We asked him to join us for breakfast or let us tip him or something (Why else would anyone be this kind?) But he wouldn’t hear of it. He just smiled and went on his way. Looks like people can be kind for the sake of being kind.
Though I would recommend walking around, eating from every Godiva stall like we did, Brussels has a lot to offer the itinerary-lover. When we walked past a Tiffany’s, I put forth an idea - to recreate the scene from Breakfast at Tiffany’s - I was wearing a black dress and I had a croissant at hand. Sahit’s enthusiasm for the idea was communicated with a definitive and dissuasive grab-tug at my elbow and a drag-away of my whole being from the general direction of the shop window. For a filmmaker, he’s not so hot on my movie-scene recreation ideas.
Eat enormous amounts of Chocolate. And when you’re done eat some more. You can’t say Belgium without thinking of the yum in Belgian chocolates. Fabrice sent us to Pierre Marcolini and the way he recommended the place made us suspect that our friend might have been something of a chocolate-snob. And indeed, the chocolates were made for these of the uppity-chocolate persuasion. We also punctuated every other hour with our mouths attached to ice-creams cones from Godiva. Heaven.
Grand Place. Brussels’ biggest tourist draw is like being in a fairytale - at least the real estate/infrastructure part of it. A square where you’re surrounded by baroque turrets, buildings that put the gild in guildhalls and architecture that puts the lyricism in words like balustrades. To call it a market square feels a bit rich (or poor, to be precise) even though the adjoining streets are named after food products like herbs and dairy. Even though it’s easily one of the most crowded places in Brussels, you will end up spending a bit of time here to marvel at the sheer magnificence of this square. Also, we found some amazing stores for tea and coffee along these streets.
Manneken Pis. I don’t know why such a fuss is made out of the peeing boy, but he’s a legend if anything. His wardrobe changes according to the occasion and apparently, like any famous kid, many attempts at kidnapping him, some successful have been made in the past.
Atomium. Another motif of Brussels the Atomium is a bit like walking into a science fiction book with some science fiction-esque architecture. It hosts fairs and offers greats views of the city.
Museums. Brussels’ intellectual disposition manifests itself in an abundance of museums - some very idiosyncratic in nature. From the Tintin Museum, a must-do pilgrimage for TinTin Lovers to the Comic Museum - not to be confused with the Tintin Museum, this is a quaint museum housed in a gorgeous art nouveau building to the Museum of Erotics and Mythology of Brussels and the Jewish Museum. The Royal Museum of Army and Military History. The Chocolate Museum (of course). The Toy Museum. The Museum of Costume and Lace. The Museum of Fantastic Art - supposedly so bizarre in its exhibit repertoire and the many more museums you’ll find further down this list.
Royal Belgian institute of Natural History. Natural Science geeks ahoy. I would guess this is a great place to take a child along - given that a dino-phase is a childhood rite of passage these days. The fossils and dinosaur skeletons should keep them engaged and perhaps the guides will help you give them answers and thereby increase your worth in their judgey-childlike estimation.
Royal Palace of Brussels. The palace is mostly open to the public only in the summer months (July - September), From Tuesday to Sunday (Monday Holiday) 10.30 - 17.00. In the other months, the beautiful grounds or the Parc de Bruxelles is always good for a lovely stroll, picnic or enjoying some trees.
Musical Instruments Museum - just around the corner from the Parc de Bruxelles, in a magnificent authentic art nouveau building (built in 1899), is a trip down musical history. Musical instruments that date back to the medieval era, that made music with many a bard and held many a court spellbound or dancing can be found. The interactive audio guides have samples of the sounds and music each instrument made.
Eat. The thing about Brussels is that it’s far less tourist trappy types. Except perhaps around the Grand Place. Food is a a very exciting part of the Brussels experience. Spoil your teeth rotten with Waffles. Eat mussels - mussels in Brussels does have a nice, must-do ring to it, doesn’t it? If you’re not sure how to (see me politely prodding them with a fork, asking them to open up) - ask the waiter. He will make a mini dance performance out of it and you might end up tipping him way more than your wallet thinks advisable or sane, but it is a delicious experience.
Royal Saint-Hubert Galleries. This 19th century “shopping mall” is so charming and so old time-y, that despite there being little more than shopping to do, a stroll feels like a Belle Epoque interlude.
Cinquantenaire. Vast beautiful gardens offset by a massive triumphal arch with three arches mark the fiftieth anniversary of Belgian Independence. Built in 1880, the premises is home to a good number of museums and the Pavilion of Human Passions
Drink your weight in beer. I’m not by any measure a beer drinker. But one evening, when Katalina and her friend Jean Michel took us out for drinks, I just had to. Belgian beer is just delicious.
Mini Europe. The Europe experience if you were a big old giant. This place is like a primer to Europe, its history and the beloved sights.
Auto World - A little joyride down automobile history. what’s not to like
Train World. trains have a romance about them. Located at the Schaarbeek station that looks like a giant gingerbread house, this place really feels like you’ve gone back in time.
Day trip to Bruges. If Brussels feels a bit too real-life, a quick train-ride to Bruges will sort you out. Bruges is like falling down a rabbit hole into an idyllic medieval town. Where a river flows past cottages and facades it has known for centuries, past turrets, past steeples that give Bruges the enviable title of being one the most well-preserved medieval towns.
Day trip to Ghent. If Bruges is a repast into the idyllic medieval town life, Ghent is perhaps the way to get closer to the more bloodthirsty side of the medieval narrative. The turrets here have an air of being dragon perches. The city has a more hawkish, watchful air to it. Ramparts, castles with violent histories, torture chambers, tiny dragon keepsakes in souvenir shops make you feel like you could walk into siege or a jousting match. All the tourists around you do nothing to quell your imagination from flapping away on huge, reptilian wings.
Day trip to Antwerp. Antwerp is where fantasy and the functional rubs shoulders and possibly other things to become the very scene of domesticity. Belgium’s second-most metropolitan city makes up for its glass facades with a generous helping of gingerbread houses and biscuit-tin buildings.
We left Brussels with a heavy heart. We were sad to leave behind the friends we’d made. The conversations we had. We were not tourists. We were visitors. We visited our first Taschen store - which is now an Europe tradition - we look for the local Taschen store and buy books that give us a few anxious baggage-limit-related heartburns at the check-in. We spent evenings with friends. Katalina allowed us to make a small documentary on her adventures and she played for us, her violin and her turning her living room into a chamber for music. Fabrice talked about his work, and his extensive book and record collection. We talked travel economics (two people taking a cab to the airport made more sense than two people taking the train to the airport) global politics and America making everything worse with our cab driver, as he drove us to the airport - he chatted away in French, I nodded away in English with the occasional “Oui”! Our first trip to Europe ended with a lot of love.
Brussels is indeed the heart of Europe. A very sweetheart at that.
