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
Widely known as Europe's most beautiful city square the Grand Place is dizzying beautiful (the beauty is obvious; the dizziness is because you keep turning around and around trying to decide what part of the 360 degree view is your favorite).
The city museum occupies the old Kings House (above). The detail (below) feels both gothic and libertine.
Nick and I in front of the 15th century Town Hall. Below the sun breaks through to light up a passage on the east side of the hall.
It's far too much to take in all at once so we were chuffed on our second night there to find that it was true what we had heard about the cafe with the secret second floor viewing room. We were also thrilled to warm up a little before venturing out again for a delicious Ethiopian dinner.
The Grand Place really is in the very center of the city, so we passed through it several times, in several different kinds of light, but never the perfect light for showing it to best effect. This comes close though.
THE FLEA MARKET
I don't think there is any better flea market in the world than Brussels'. Genuine antiques and weird knick knacks of indeterminate age are mixed up all together with only the lightest sprinkling of cheap Chinese electronic accessories.
I still have a necklace and earrings I made out of scavenged chandelier crystals that I bought here in 1999.
I WANT ALL THE THINGS.
I own one of these things, can you guess which? A straight up €2 score.
With her huge white fur coat, cigarette and a stream of jocular regulars
to exchange pleasantries with this woman looked like she wouldn't
prefer to be anywhere else on a January morning.
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.
OUR QUARTERS
I had wanted us to stay in a range of different spaces during the trip so for Brussels I booked an airbnb on the 18th floor of a late 1970s apartment building on the northern edge of the city center. The flat was appealing not just for the views, but also for the decor, clearly collected by a devoted patron of the flea market.
View towards the city center on an overcast day.
View looking to the industrial north from the other side of the flat.
Directly in front of the building was a fenced in grassy area that we first figured was a park. Until, that is, we saw the donkeys and the chickens. You can't see them individually here, but trust me.
The explanation given me by the host made me like Brussels even more:
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.
When I asked my Belgian colleague Julie for her Brussels recommendations she told me that Frit Flagey was the best joint in town. They tried to close it down several years ago for a redevelopment but the community revolted, and rightly so. This picture is from my first visit. There is always a line and it moves slowly because the frites are made from scratch and cooked in small batches.
With all that time to wait you would think you could make a sauce decision but look at all these options!
Samourai? Pili-pili? I was going to take a (comparatively small) risk and go with Provencale on my first frites, but when I got up to the counter I panicked and said Aioli. When I came back with the family Nick had the idea to order a few to sample - genius!
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.
Pastries at Le Pain Quotidien. Look at the delicacy with which this tart is being collected. Perfect.
Chimay blue. So classic, so yum.
Fruity wines at Goupil le Fol. Okay, these were a little weird, but the atmosphere was excellent.
Probably my favorite Tripel.
Nick was fairly new to Belgian beers when we arrived but he was an eager student.
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.
ART NOUVEAU
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:
The building above was once the private residence of the architect and artist Victor Horta, now it is his museum. I think it is the most obsessively decorated home I have ever been inside, and certainly among the most beautiful. Photography is prohibited inside the museum, but have a
gander here.
This is the excellent musical instrument museum. I visited last time and would have gone again if there were time.
A parting shot looking towards the city center from the Mont des Arts. It was fun. The end.
