It was only when we arrived in Brussels that I remembered how much Scandinavia is not continental Europe. This realization would have come earlier had not the Netherlands felt like a bridge between: the people are still tall and keep mostly to themselves, the beauty is still sleek and austere, and everything is so very clean.
The first things I noticed about Brussels were not necessarily its most outstanding features, but those that were most positively not Scandinavian. I saw animated conversations and gesticulations between friends and strangers and was warmly welcomed into dining and drinking establishments by maître d's who had clearly never done something so vulgar as 'work out'. I saw lovers entangled in dark (and not so dark) corners of bars decorated with faded art nouveau murals and kitschy flea market finds. I especially relished Brussels' famous quirkiness. It's a city with a lot of character (good and bad) and heart and I appreciated that all the more after many uninterrupted months of life in pleasant, even-tempered Odense, in a country that would never be described as passionate (unless perhaps you were talking about how its denizens feel about licorice).
I was a little nervous though coming from Amsterdam which had been such a hit with the family. I wondered if we should have stayed a little longer -- there were so many museums we hadn't yet seen! -- and worried there weren't enough traditional 'sights' in Brussels to keep everyone occupied and entertained. Happily there was plenty to see and do and even more to eat (within two hours of arrival we had devoured crepes, beer, coffee, and chocolate). Here then, the highlights.
THE GRAND PLACE/GROTE MARKT
THE FLEA MARKET
We were not nearly so well outfitted and sought a warm up in this unassuming little cafe with tasty coffee and croissants I would gladly sell my plasma for.
The farm is a neighbourhood project. After knocking down an old residential quarter of the town in the 80's to build the crazy Manhattan project where the motorway coming from Holland was suppose to end and on both sides skyscrapers would be erected, the project financially collapsed... The north neighbourhood became a ghost half constructed quarter with no people living in it and empty office buildings. Committees decided it was time to bring life back and since there was an empty green land where buildings were not allowed to be constructed, they brought some animals... Belgium surrealisme at its best.
FRITES
Oh my god, the frites. If I would sell my plasma for those croissants I would harvest my bone marrow for these potato products.
With all that time to wait you would think you could make a sauce decision but look at all these options!
This little moppet was just having the best day.
These moppets were too.
MANNEKIN PIS
When my mother told Nick that the symbol/mascot/spirit animal of Brussels was a tiny 17th c. statue of a peeing boy he scoffed audibly and made it clear that he would absolutely not be seeing that sight. I explained that Mannekin Pis was quite centrally located and he might stumble upon it but offered to shield his eyes were I to spot it first. Unfortunately I didn't count on the tourist-baiting reproductions scattered all over the center, selling beer,
waffles,
and chocolate,
and for good measure making a statement on the longstanding East vs. West/Biggie vs. Tupac feud with this "Mannekin Peace" mural.
I'm lukewarm on the statue myself, but I love when they dress it up in outlandish costumes ranging from cosmonaut to Hungarian hussar to child soldier to urologist. Apparently they even hook him up to a keg sometimes and pass out the free beer.
So I was delighted to see him dressed up one day when I passed by, though I've no idea what he was supposed to be.
WEIRDNESS!
Brussels' urinating costumed patron saint is only the most well-known example of Belgian weirdness to be found in the city. The place has a wonderfully playful sense of the absurd, and a strong comic tradition (including Tintin, but also lots of other less famous comic book series represented in murals clustered in the city center).
I've never, for instance, seen so many creatively altered street signs in such close proximity.
By far my FAVORITE example of Belgian quirk, however, were the lions in front of the old Stock Exchange near the Grand Place. Someone had managed to stick googly eyes on them and the effect was SPLENDID.
Slightly closer-up. So great.
You began to understand how Belgium produced Magritte and a few of the other famous surrealists.
Perhaps this only seems of a theme to me, but one of my favorite things in Brussels was the pigeon memorial, a monument to the heroic birds that were killed in the line of duty during World War I.
Do pigeons feel a sense of duty to the motherland? Probably not. But humans too rarely appreciate all those animals that have died in our service and this is a charming exception.
DELICIOUSNESS
I would be remiss if I failed to remark that just about everything we tasted over our stay was basically its Platonic ideal.
Coffee and pretty biscuit.
Chimay blue. So classic, so yum.
Probably my favorite Tripel.
Mom suggested he collect coasters and collage them into a frame-ready memento. He liked the idea but quickly discovered that not all bars had coasters and those that did often used the same few standards. This turned us all into master thieves, roaming the restaurant alleys with criminal intent. He probably left with nearly two dozen.
My pictures fail most obviously in this area, but again it would be folly were I not to mention one of the other great reasons to visit Brussels: the beautiful art nouveau architecture. A sampling of the private houses we happened across:
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