36 Hours in Brussels

          You can’t really do much in 36 hours in one city, right? It’s so whirlwind that it’s practically not even worth going? Wrong. This past weekend I spent a grand total of 36 hours in Brussels. Counting time for sleeping. However, I was not going to let my time constraints deter me. I had things I wanted to do, and by God, I was going to get them done! Here’s how:

            I arrived in Brussels around 11pm Friday night, after a 5-hour long, grueling train ride. Now do me a favor and please look on a map – Strasbourg to Brussels is really not that far. So why five hours? Well, when you are traveling on a budget and trying to scout the cheapest tickets available, they tend to be on the slowest forms of transportation in the world. Obvious hint from me to you. Upon my arrival, I was supposed to me Caity, my friend and roommate from UVA, who is studying for her masters in Cambridge. Caity’s sister, Cammie, had also flown over from the US to meet us in Brussels for the weekend before continuing on to London. However, the whole little plan we had dreamt up started to go incredibly awry when it decided to blizzard all over Europe.

Grand Place lightshow!

            Cammie arrived in Brussels early on Friday morning with no travel problems, but by the end of the work day, with snow piling up all over the continent, Caity and I began to worry that our trains might not be able to make it to Belgium. However, when I arrived into Strasbourg from work, I noticed that my train was on time and in the station. I had, just for a moment, forgotten that I am lucky enough to live in a land where blizzards are somewhat common, so all forms of transportation are used to this kind of weather. This would be one of those rare occasions where I am glad I live in Alsace, where, evidently, they know how to deal with snow. Up in the UK, the inclement weather proved to be a bit more of a problem. Taking the Eurostar from London, Caity was meant to arrive around 9pm. But this was not to happen. Eurostar canceled 3 of its trains to Brussels on Friday, including Caity’s. Their ingenious solution to this problem? Make all other trains still running go on standby. This means that all trains were first come, first serve, even if you had a ticket. After Caity’s train was canceled, so were the next two. She waited in the train station for a good 4 hours, until her “standby” status was finally converted to a ticket. She hopped on the train to Lille, and though running a little behind, she still felt that she was at least on the way to a weekend in Brussels. But God had other things planned. Upon arrival in Lille, the little Eurostar train decided to break down. It was 11:30pm. They waited for an hour before the French rail company got its act together and decided to move them to a TGV (high-speed French train), which is better equipped to handle the snow. Not having eaten anything since 6:30am, she was starving. Her Blackberry was dying, and she was completely alone. She wandered up to the café car to try and get some food. Of course, on this particular train, it was “out of order”.

Caity and I in front of the Grand Place
Christmas Tree

            In the mean time, I had arrived in Brussels exactly on time. Congratulations to the SNCF. However, when I got off the train at Brussels Midi, the station was practically deserted. And, as I have found in practically every European country so far, the signs in the station were about as much help as deodorant for the French population; i.e. not. Who reads Flemish anyway? No one. I wandered my way around the station for about 20 minutes attempting to find some sort of access to public transportation. There was none. So I poked around outside for a bit and finally found the bus stop…and a person! Thank God for the fact that I speak French. I asked this lovely girl how in the world I was supposed to make it to Place Rogier (where our hotel was). Not only did she give me directions on which bus to take, she got on the bus (it was hers as well, but still), took me to the correct metro station, took me to the platform for the line I was supposed to take, and told me to get off in four stops. Couldn’t have been easier. If she was not there, I’m not entirely sure I would have made it all.

            Down in the Brussels metro I was transported to the subway system in New York. Well, not literally. But I so wish I had those kinds of magic powers. Anyway, for those of you who have taken the subway in New York, you know what I mean. The overwhelming smell of pee and general disgusting state of life down there is appalling. Not one of the city’s strong points. And indeed, not for Brussels either (and for that matter, neither are the busses). I honestly felt like dumping an entire jar of Purel on my head in an effort to stay sanitary. After hopping off the metro at stop Rogier, I made my way through a long hallway with pee-stained walls, up an escalator, and finally out into air I could actually breathe. Much to my surprise and happiness, I could see the hotel from the metro stop. I never re-entered that sketchy metro again.

"Biscuit World": I have no idea what the
actual name of the store is...

            I met Cammie in the lobby, and we spent a good amount of time chatting and catching up. When we realized that Caity was not going to be arriving any time soon, we went up to the room. As we awaited news of Caity’s transportation nightmares, I showered the filth of Brussels off my body. Then we got the message from Caity that her train had broken down, they were waiting for a new one, and she had no idea when she would be in. 3 hours later, at 2:30am, she finally walked through the door of the hotel room. Poor thing. However, Saturday promised to be a new day with plenty of exciting Belgian treats to explore.

            All exhausted from traveling the day before, we slept until late morning. Not exactly ideal when you only have 36 hours in a city, but that is neither here nor there. We bundled up against the cold, but what awaited us when we stepped outside was not something we were prepared for – a legitimate blizzard. It was not only cold and snowy, but also the wind whipped around those little flakes like tiny darts attacking all exposed parts of your body. My face was not happy. To take breaks from the extreme weather outside, we popped in and out of shops along the way to our first landmark: the Grand Place. We sampled chocolates at boutique chocolatiers, experienced the Brussels Christmas market, and even ducked into a shop that was filled floor-to-ceiling with biscuits. After leaving what Caity so humorously dubbed “biscuit world”, we arrived at the Grand Place. I had read that this was the most majestic of Europe’s “places”, but I was unprepared for the beauty I experienced. Despite the blizzard, my jaw dropped open as I walked into the space. The gilded buildings on all four sides gleamed in a snowy haze. The hotel de ville and palais du roi (king’s palace) towered loftily above this market square, with facades that rival all of what I have seen in Europe. The giant Christmas tree in the center twinkled as tourists milled about snapping photos and consuming hot chocolate. It truly was majestic.

Grand Place: Blizzard

            We left the Grand Place and explored more chocolate shops on our way to see the Manneken Pis. Almost of all of them contained giant chocolate fountains with fresh fruit ready to be dipped in liquid heaven. We made a brief pitstop at Dandoy, a biscutier and chocolatier famous for its Belgian waffles and sinful hot cocoa. While Caity and Cammie dove into a real Belgian waffle, I drank hot chocolate that tasted like a melted bar of milk chocolate warmed to the perfect temperature. Fully thawed out, we ventured back out to find Manneken Pis. Some of you may be asking yourself, what in the world is Manneken Pis? Well, it is a fountain sculpture of a small naked boy urinating into the fountain basin. A famous Brussels landmark, Manneken Pis has several legends as to its origins. The one most often told to tourists, is that when a wealthy merchant came to the city, his young son went missing. He organized a citywide search party until the boy was finally found peeing in a small garden. There are many traditions that surround this statue, and in particular, his costume. He is dressed up in a different costume a few times every week, according to a publicly published scheduled. He has some 1000 different outfits, which, when they are not in use, are housed in the Brussels Museum. I encourage you to do a little Google research on this...When we arrived at the statue, we did not see a little boy peeing into a fountain, but rather a little boy dressed as the Pope at Christmas, peeing into the fountain. Caught totally off guard by this costume, Caity, Cammie, and I could barely stop laughing to snap the requisite photos. Kudos, Brussels, on a job well done.

Manneken Pis

            Having already crossed Belgian waffles and chocolate off of our culinary to-do list, we made our way across town to Delirium, a café that had come highly recommended by friends, to cross yet another item off that list: beer. Home to over 800 different kinds of beer, I could easily make Delirium my home for about the next three years, trying a new type of beer each day. Decorated with beer kegs as tables, beer trays adorning the ceilings, and beer posters on the walls, this grungy, belowground bar certainly screams, “come in and get drunk”. We spent a few hours at Delirium, trying different beers, chatting, and catching up. Problem is, most of the beers that came “highly recommended” by the bar tenders were 9% alcohol or more. Needless to say, I limited my consumption…By the time we left, around 5pm, we were starving. I had yet to eat anything that day, and we were hankering for yet another Belgian delicacy: fries. For those of you don’t know (like me prior to my trip to Belgium), the French fry is actually a Belgian invention. The misnomer came from American soldiers, who, during World War I, saw Belgian soldiers eating fries, while speaking French (one of their national languages). And the French fry was born.

At Delirium!

            After our bowls (yes, bowls) of French fries, we decided to make our way home to warm-up and change before heading back out into the night. By the time we had woken up from our naps (also not the best idea on a whirlwind city tour), it was 9:30pm. We went out for a late dinner (so European) at an amazing little neighborhood restaurant a 10-minute walk from the hotel. Babeko came highly recommended by our concierge, and it did not disappoint. The food was delicious and filling, and the atmosphere of the restaurant was distinctly Belgian. I could tell it was one of those neighborhood “gems” by the way the clients interacted with the staff. There was that old couple who you know probably comes in every night at the same time and orders the same thing off the menu. The woman holds the waitress's hand as she thanks her profusely for the meal, before she promptly walks back into the kitchen and kisses the chef for his delicious creations. Another thing I loved about this restaurant was how much people complimented me on my French. “But you are surely French!” the owner said, after our brief conversation. Ah, how those words warm my soul.

St. Michael and St. Gudula Cathedral

            Sunday morning we woke again to dreary Belgian winter weather: cold, windy, rainy, gross. But I was not to be discouraged. We still had one more must-see to cross off our to-do list. So again, we bundled up, and traipsed out into the freezing rain. A mere 10-minute walk from our hotel was the St. Michael and St. Gudula Cathedral. It is very rare that cathedrals will have two names, but the patron saints of this church, the archangel St. Michael and the martyr St. Gudula, are patron saints of the entire city of Brussels. It is a Gothic cathedral, but the foundation of the church was a chapel that was built in the 9^th century and dedicated to St. Michael. The relics of St. Gudula were later transferred here. Despite anything going on around them, including weather, cathedrals have an amazing power to move visitors to speechlessness. Every time I stand in front of one of these massive structures, and think about the time and effort it took to construct one, as well as the intricate artistry that went into its decoration, I am in awe. Perhaps that’s just the art history major in me, but I could swear it’s a pretty universal phenomenon…We happened to visit the cathedral on a Sunday, so we quietly gave ourselves a tour while services were being conducted. Living in Europe, I have never appreciated more the Medieval Art and Architecture class I took at UVA. When I walk into a cathedral (and there are a LOT in Europe), I feel that I know my way around. I know why certain things look the way they do and how certain aspects convey certain messages. They truly are remarkable buildings.

            Sadly the cathedral was the last stop we made before getting our respective trains home. I settled into my 5-hour journey with plenty of projects to do – including planning lessons, creating the itinerary for Caity’s Paris trip (I absolutely love doing this…yes, I’m a huge dork), and writing my newest article for Lost Girl’s World. Please be sure to check it out when it goes live on the site next Monday, December 13^th! http://www.lostgirlsworld.com. If you missed my last one, here’s the link as well: http://www.lostgirlsworld.com/2010/11/living-better-out-of-a-backpack/.

            After two more days of school this week, I am Lyon-bound for the Fête des Lumières (Festival of Lights) and a little UVA reunion. I can’t wait! After that, it’s only one week til home…how did these months fly by so fast??