Brussels in 26 Hours

We landed in Brussels at ten to 8 local time. I found my way to passport control and stood in line for a bit.

Nothing is ever easy -- I got my bags and went to get money out of the ATM. But when I got money out in the UAE I took the last of the money in my checking account. So while I have plenty of money in savings, I got denied by the Belgian bank that took my card -- and I was not willing to pay $1.50 per € at Travelex, when €1 buys only $1.25.

So I called TD Bank and transfered some money over - it was most annoying.

Next I decided I didn't want to lug my big backpack around, so I looked for lockers to place my things. I found them on floor 0, out next to the taxi stand. I got locker 03-06 and locked my things.

I went to the train platform with my remaining baggage and got a ticket. In doing so, however, I realized I had forgotten my itinerary, hostel confirmation, and email from Stephen detailing what I am to do today back at the locker.

Back to the locker, then back to the train. My ticket cost €5.10. I settled on the platform. It was 9:20, so this whole ordeal so far was only an hour and a half, but it felt so much longer.

The train came at 11:30. I took it to Brussels-Midi, where I was told would be most convenient for Botanique, my final metro destination.

I think around here is a good time to point out that I know nothing about this country, its history, its people, or the city of Brussels. Before I was booking flights home this summer, I had no interest in being here. But I had to stop somewhere on my way home from the UAE, and my choices based on price were this, Manchester, or London. I'd never been to this country, and I figured "为什么不?"

Now, in my hasty decision making, I don't even know what language(s) they speak here. I think it's Flemmish and French. But I can't be sure. And nothing is in English. Fortunately, though, whatever languages they do have up are similar enough I can read them.

The metro system is pretty confusing here. The map seems like a confusing line graph. I bought a day pass for €4.50, since one ticket is €1.70, I'll pay for it with three trips.

The metro train arrived and I, silly me, assumed it would be pretty speedy to the stop I needed to get off in for my hostel. But it kept stopping short in the middle of tunnels, turning it's power off and on again - I thought we kept on hitting people. What the train did have, though, was an accordian player who was most entertaining. I didn't tip him.

I walked into the open air for the first time and was amazed how brisk it was. Having been in Beijing all summer, and then in 110° weather in Dubai and Abu Dhabi, I was not prepared for this. But I was pleasantly surprised.

I got a little lost wandering through the back streets of old Brussels, but I found my hostel, the hostel Van Gogh (an old studio of the famous artist), a little before 11. I checked in and locked my things in the locker room (my bed wouldn't be ready until 2pm) and at 11:15 I set out for my adventure. Since I was 2 hours behind schedule, though, I cut out my first stop, the flea market.

I discovered that they speak French here, which is good to know, though I don't speak French.

Took the subway to Louise for my first stop. Got off and walked to Place Poelaert. Word on the street is it has a great view.

They were right. The Palace of Justice is being renovated but is still beautiful, and the view is amazing.

I continued on my walking tour, following my Google directions I had printed out several days ago.

I couldn't find the Grand Synagogue, though I did find another synagogue (maybe they're one and the same but my directions say nay). I continued through Grand Sablon, the old part of town. On the way I sat down in Place Saint-Jean Plein to people watch.

At noon I got up. My original itinerary had me going to the Mannekin Pis next, the famous statue of the little boy peeing, but when Stephen sent me his itinerary I reorganized mine to include his at this point. So I began meandering towards the central bus station down Rue Duquesnoystraat.

I got to the central station and walked inside. I looked for a sandwich shop called PAIN, because Stephen said to, but couldn't find one. Strike one on his itinerary. There was a Panos, but no PAIN. So I had something at Panos, hoping they were the same (I found out later they were).

I got on a bus to do a sightseeing tour, as Stephen insisted I do. He specifically told me to get on the red bus, not the blue bus. I got on the blue bus. It was a €16 mistake.

I got off asap and walked back to get on the red tour. Stephen said I could get off anywhere in the first seven stops but to definitely get off at 7 (this bus route is a hop-on hop-off system so I am not forced to stay for 90 minutes straight). Fortunately, in my walking tour before this, I had seen almost all of stops 1-7. So I chilled until stop 7, passing all the places I saw earlier today and also the European Parliament on the way.

I must say, I do hate doing organized tours like this. But this tour did have some good information, and since it's hop-on and hop-off, I could and did use the bus as a taxi between stops that Stephen wanted me to go to.

I got off at 1:30 at stop 7 and looked for the American bar that Stephen wanted me to find. I couldn't find it for the life of me. (though I found out later from Stephen that I had found it, it was just closed. It's a place called Take Eat Easy next to where I had my beers) Strike two. But Stephen said to drink a few beers, so I stopped in a bar and drank a few beers. Two Hoegaarden, a good, Belgian, mass-produced beer. Later I'd go for local brews.

I got back on the bus at 2, and relaxed, "bask[ing] in Brussels," as Stephen suggested. I planned to get off at the last stop, stop 13, but the driver went right past it and went back to the station. No worries, it was only a few extra blocks.

At this point it was 3pm, and I still had the two main attractions in Brussels to see; the Mannekin Pis and the Grand Place. I headed to the former first.

The Mannekin Pis is hilarious. Crowds of people to gather just to watch a statue of a young boy who, thanks to piping and a continuous water supply, has the worlds most overactive bladder. I took the obligatory photos and moved on.

I've also not yet had the major Belgian specialties at this point; waffles and chocolate (though by now I'd had a little beer). I went to a waffle place next to the Mannekin Pis before I went to the Grand Place. The waffle was amazing -- why did it have to be so edible? I wanted it to last longer.

The Grand Place isn't very big, but that's not why they call it "Grand." Two buildings lining the cobblestone square are adorned in endless gold leaf, dating to the seventeenth century. An impressive gothic city museum takes another side of the square. The third side is an ornate statue-infested set of store fronts. And the last site or the square is almost exclusively reserved for the Cathedral. From where I stood, I could see 96 statues lining the facade, and another ten spots where statues have been stolen or destroyed. Each figure was unique. It was magnificent.

As Stephen insisted, I went next to the southeast corner of the square. I was to find another PAIN, or Panos, as I learned from Stephen it is also called. There was nothing in the southeast corner, nor down the streets off the corner. In fact, exploration down the corner found me back at Place Saint-Jean Plein.

In texting with Stephen, however, I found that he made the mistake of saying southeast when he meant northeast. I found the Panos and, as instructed, ate another sandwich. It was just as good as the first time.

Next, as instructed, I walked back towards the square and looked to my left, to find a chocolate shop Stephen mentioned. I went inside, sampled their chocolate fountain for free, as well as several truffles - all amazing - and then made excuses to leave without buying. Because Stephen said so.

Next I stopped at a bar a few doors down, which Stephen said had great beer. I drank the recommended Amber beer, brewed in-house. Once again, slam dunk suggestion.

Next Stephen had me going to one of his "favorite bars in Europe." That's a tall order to fill, but when I finally found Au Bon Vieux Temps at 4:40 down some alleyway in a street a little ways northwest of the Grand Place, I understood why.

Au Bon Vieux Temps is dark, kind of eerie at first, and buried deep in an alleyway. The windows inside are stain glass, the bartender looks like a female version of that smoking caterpillar in Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland -- and she smokes just as much, maybe moreso.

There's only one beer on tap, Diekirsh, a Luxembourgish beer. I sat down and tried to order it, but two French-Belgians and one Flemmish-Belgian refused to let me order such "Merde."

They insisted on Duvel for me, my new friends. I never got all their names, but one had a broken hand, dark complexion, endlessly long dreadlocks, and a laugh that wouldn't stop -- I blame the alcohol. Another was Flemmish and spoke that, Dutch, French, English, and a little Russian. Then there was Leo, a chubby French-Belgian who kept buying me beer as he was later and later for work that started 3 hours before he ended up going tonight. He and the Flemmish guy work at the Casino down the street from Au Bon Vieux Temps as cooks.

While I sitting and talking with these guys, two girls came in and sat down. Somebody said something and one of the girls started arguing with the bar-Madame. It got pretty heated and the girls walked out. This prompted catcalling and sexual jokes from the drunk guys at the bars, and the girl who was arguing came back in.

She and the bartender went face to face and the two women started arguing full force. Dreads-man tried to intervene, and so did Michel, who I think owns the bar (or is a regular, everyone knew his name).

It turns out one of the girls who walked in is Arab, and recently the chainsmoking barkeeper got assaulted by some Arabs. Oh well.

Next I met a man who I've dubbed Mr. [Insert Relevant Name Here]. Mr. Skull and Bones was speaking broken French and was very drunk. He asked Flemmish-guy if he was from Belgium. Then he asked if I was. I said no, America. Mr. Overly-friendly then stands up and puts both hands on my shoulders, so happy to meet an American. Too happy.

I asked where he was from and he said Connecticut. "Me too," I said. "Where in Connecticut?"

"Do you know Skull and Bones?"

"Yes, my dad was Scroll and Key." I said.

"Do you know Bush?"

"Yes.."

"President Bush?"

"Yes, he was in Skull and Bones."

Mr. Grabby grabbed my shoulders and said "Looks like this one has promise!" Things went downhill from here.

"Do you know how old I am?" was the next comment from Mr. TMI, "I'm 60 years old, and I've been through every f*cking war you can imagine."

Without going into exhaustive detail, Mr. Nobody tried to explain he didn't exist; he showed me his passport, devoid of stamps (though I saw one in the back page). He then attempted to recruit me to the CA, which I assume is the same as the CIA, with a few beers added.. He told me "you know, kids today think every f*cking thing is a cinema! But sometimes, a real situation comes up, and you need to step up to the plate! You've been on my radar for some time, kid, and I think you can help. I don't exist in this country, I need an American to be my partner. Someone on-grid. What's your name?"

"Justin Smith." I smiled.

He said "you think I'm crazy? You think I'm nuts. But no matter. Just remember this for when they question you. After WWII, 125 scientists were taken to Mexico and given American citizenship. Among them was Vincent Von Bram. Vincent Von Bram! VINCENT VON BRAM!!!!!"

"Ok, I got it." things couldn't get much weirder, right?

Leo stepped in to be drunk in our faces. He said "What the hell comes from Connecticut?" I told him "Tobacco, helicopters and submarines.

Mr. Seventh-Day Adventist chimed in "and then all the submarines were shipped down to the f*cking Florida coast in the 70s."

"Why?" Inquiring minds want to know.

"The f*cking Bermuda triangle! Don't ever move to the coast of Florida. Trust me, I've got bullet wounds all through me. Wisconsin is good, Chicago is great--"

"I go to school there." I don't go to school there.

"I know." He doesn't.

I can't make this stuff up, it's too good.

It was at 6:30, sometime after I finished the sixth beer that Mr. Throws-Money-Away bought me and when Leo and Flemmish-guy were leaving I talked my way into leaving Mr. Clingy.

So Leo and Flemland (my bid for the name of the Flemmish half of the Belgian state when the country inevitably breaks up) and I left, and Mr. Stalker followed for a while. I asked Flemland for directions to the hostel and said "Adieu" to them as they went to work in the Casino -- Leo 3 hours late.

Got back to the hostel at 7, pretty tipsy (which, considering that I bought one beer of my own at Au Bon Vieux Temps, is pretty impressive), and at 8:15 I left for dinner.

I wandered around the Bourse area for a good 45 minutes before I found a good deal. €19 special with Parma ham for an appetizer, mussels as a main course, and the chef's special for dessert (the door guy said the dessert special was Angelina Jolie, but it turned out to be cheesecake). That and free beer which I talked my way into made for a good deal. I don't usually eat mussels, but when in Rome...

I sat in the alleyway outside, and watched the people passing as I ate. The mussels were great. And like I said, I don't like mussels. The last thing I haven't gotten (enough of) yet, is chocolate.

I left the restaurant and wandered down roads a block or two off Grand Place. I stopped into a few recommended chocolate shops and a few no name shops. I got a ton of chocolate, as per request, for my dad.

Just before eleven I lay down on my back in the middle of Grand Place to contemplate my life and my trip this summer. At 11 sharp all the lights went out in the square. I was confused until the music began...

The lights on the cathedral in the square began to match the music, and I watched in awe as there was a ten-minute synchronized music and light show in the middle of the square. I don't know if this is a regular thing but I'm glad I was here to see it.

I walked to the tram stop at bourse and took it to Rogier and then the subway back to Botanique, where the hostel is. The trip was free, since it was my fourth trip by metro of the day and I had the day pass I had bought.

I got back just before midnight, and checked into my room finally. Room 36, three floors up from the lobby.

I got my top bunk settled in and was about to go to sleep when two Australian guys came in. We chatted for a while, then at 1 or so I fell asleep.

Tomorrow I go home.