Conquered Belgium!

Just wanted to drop a note that I’m back to the castle, safe and sound after my weekend in Brussels.  Pictures are up on webshots, but I don’t have time yet to put my blogs up on here.  Maybe tonight?  Until then, check out my photos!

I thought about doing something . . . then realized there was nothing to do.

Sunday morning, got up early in order to eat breakfast and check out.  The thing about Brussels is that it’s really a 1-2 day city; there wasn’t anything else to see, really.  So I sat in the Botanical Gardens to journal for a bit, then walked across the city to the furthest train station, just to see if I had missed anything.  I really hadn’t.  Restaurants owners were out washing down the sidewalks.  All the shops were closed.  A man I was walking behind, an old man who spoke French, found a 50cent piece and felt inclined to show me.  I assured him it would be a good day.

A market had sprung up around the Zuid/Midi Station (the train station I walked to), and I wandered through it, but there wasn’t anything all that interesting. 

Ran into Blake and Scott on the platform, so we got on together.  Then, go figure, everyone else got on at the next stop.  So I wound up riding home with everyone, which was nice.  For the first leg, Sam showed me how to peel an orange in one piece.  For the second leg, David and I listened to his iPod and talked music.  I boarded the train around 11:30, I believe, and we made it back to the castle a little after four, in time to do hoemwork and whatnot.

 So, in summarization, what can be said about Brussels?  Brussels’ big claims to fame are waffles (wonderful), chocolate (can you really go wrong?), comics (I loved the murals everywhere, and the graffiti was often fantastic), the Mannekin-Pis (kinda lame), and the Grand Market (beautiful).  The small, winding roads clogged with shops are, in the evening, about as adorable romantic as it gets; in the daytime, though, the city is quite dirty.  The political turmoil shows in the graffiti, and though the city is really trying to revamp itself, there’s a long way to go.  Trash is everyone; construction is ugly; monuments are beautiful but rarely lit and often not clearly labeled.  It’s sad.  Even some of the old buildings that have so much character are simply crumbling where they stand. 

Fortunately, the city didn’t smell bad, which would be a logical consequence.  Rather, particularly in the city center, you go from one delicious restaurant to another, or like waffles, or cigars.  The small shops are adorable.  The hundreds of chocolate shops all have their own kind of character.  I was horrified by the absence of bakeries and cafes, though, haha.

The rain Saturday was rather miserable, and cold.  I definitely didn’t pack well for so much walking.  Not only did my knee hurt from falling on the stairs, but the backs of my heels bled nonstop for two days because my shoes have just had it.  I’ll have to buy a new pair in London, which I’m NOT happy about.  Uh well.

Overall, I’m glad I went.  Even though I certainly didn’t fall in love with Belgium, there are still some beautiful architecture there, the comics/waffles/truffles are fun, and just seeing different cultures in general is enjoyable.  I hate to make it sound like it’s just a disgusting, dirty city.  It does have some things going for it.  Just not much, haha.  I feel like I didn’t capture the city itself very well at all in these blogs; they’re more about what I did.  But you can look at the pictures on webshots and see the good, the bad, and the ugly yourself.  The weekend, too, was a good mixture of being alone and being with friends.

I feel like I’m forgetting something.  Or maybe it’s just that I feel like these blogs give a very 2-D view of Brussels.  Uh well.  Check out the pictures!

Waffles, Chocolates, Fountains, Chicken, and Friends; One Day

Saturday was a MUCH better day than Friday, despite teh terrible weather.  I was up by seven and ate the provided breakfast (two slices of bread, jam, and a small bowl of cornflakes), then showered.  The hostel was weird in that you couldn’t leave your stuff in the room between 10am and 2pm so they could clean; you had to put it in a locker room downstairs.  So I moved my stuff, then set out in truly miserable weather.

One crummy thing about Brussels is that they don’t really have shelter ANYWHERE.  There aren’t covered benches (I guess I could have sat at a bus stop), so I had no choice but to keep walking almost the entire day.  At one point, when I got so hungry I HAD to eat, I bought a waffle and took a seat in the “Passage du Nord,” this sort of indoor arcade with open ends (truly beautiful; look at the pictures) and all these expensive shops (I bought my truffles in there).  This policeman walked by and motioned to me to get up as though I was an idiot for even trying to sit down.  Well maybe Brussels should invest in some covered benches!  So I wandered around this cute little market that sprang up in covered tents around a fountain across the street.  but I was not happy about having to walk and eat my waffle.  That said, the waffle was delicious and I could totally go for another one right now.

I first hit the big Cathedral, which is absolutely gorgeous; looks architecturally a lot like Wesminster, though obviously a LOT smaller.  After the arcade (that I explained before), I found the Grand Market that had been recommended to me and was truly overwhelmed.  You walk into this huge square and are surrounded by some of the most amazing buildings I’ve ever seen in my life.  You can look at the pictures but even those don’t do them justice.  I’m sure there’s more in good weather, but for the time being there were a few flower stands set up in the center.  Restaurants occupy some of the buildings and spill out into the center.  You feel like you’re in the 18th century.  The wood and stone carvings are glorious.  It’s also, I’m pretty sure, the only square in the city; all the other streets in the city twist and turn and curve horribly.

Continued to wander around and got my souvenir shopping done.  All the streets surrounding the Grand Market are cute little shops (HUNDREDS of chocolate shops; some cool toy stores).  Souvenir shops all seemed to be run by old men and woman who spoke only French; all snack shops were run by Greeks or Turks.  I was very proud that several of my transactions were made entirely in French, though any longer conversation I’m just not capable of yet.  I saw the Mannekin-Pis and was utterly unimpressed.  The fountain is teeny-tiny, shoved into this corner.  And it’s just a little boy peeing into a fountain.  I took pictures but thought it pretty sad if that’s what your city is famous for. 

Found myself, as usual, right next to some political march.  I’m still not sure what they were marching for, but I know Belgium is a political hotbed lately.  So watched them pass, but then I needed to sit for a while, so I wound up buying a croissant from the only bakery I could find and sitting in the window, people watching.  Overall, though, the people weren’t that different from any other European city.  Ethnically diverse; mostly French speaking; lots of tourists around the hot spots like the Grand Market.  With nothing else to do, I went back to the hostel and napped to let my feet dry out and change jeans, then set out with the intention of finding a cafe to just chill in and write for a bit.

Unfortunately, despite being a very French country, there are NO cafes!  They combine cafes with restaurants and/or bars, but I didn’t want to sit in a restaurant or bar.  I literally wandered around for a little under two hours, looking for just a cup of coffee when who should happen to be yelling my name but Sam, David, and their little group.  I was so excited to see them, if only because by this point I was cold, wet, tired, and BADLY in need of some coffee.

So me, Sam, and David wandered around until meeting up with everyone else at seven.  We checked out some comic shops, photographed the giant comic murals painted on buildings throughout the city, got photographed by some random lady when we danced to the music of some street band.  We made faces at cute dogs and babies, engaged in umbrella wars with unsuspecting locals.  Sam bought escargot at a cart set up by the Mannekin-Pis, insisting King Albert ate escargot from that stall so it had to be good.  I tried a piece and LOVED it; who would have guessed I would love escargot?  The three of us had great fun, though I’ve come to the conclusion why I think you can’t really get to know a culture when you’re traveling with friends.  When you’re with friends, at least of your own culture, you’re too introverted with each other; everything you see and hear and do is in relation to your own shared culture.  You aren’t people watching or noticing minute details of the city around you.  Nonetheless, I was glad I met up with them and had a blast being a stupid American tourist for a bit.

I managed to get us back to the meeting point (they had no navigational sense whereas I already knew the city extremely well).  Once everyone arrived, we had a drink (not me; not wasting my money on alcohol!), then went to dinner at an adorable restaurant in the city center, which in the evening has its narrow streets swallowed up by the lavishly decorated tables of one quaint restaurant after another, each boasting oysters, lobsters, or chicken.  The restaurant we finally settled on had a three-course for 12euro50 deal.  The owner was this adorable little Frenchman who even brought the sign in from outside to explain to our party of ten; he really adored us, probably because Blake spoke French well enough to really converse with him.  That and we were bringing in the money.

Dinner was enjoyable.  I had fried cheese, chicken, potatoes, and then a caramel flan.  It was HUGE meal for me, but I was just grateful to not be eating peanut butter and jelly for once, you know?  And it was extremely yummy; totally worth the money, I thought.  We spent dinner discussing movies and actors.  I enjoyed making new acquaintaces, since Sam and David were really the only ones of the group I knew beforehand.  To keep things simple, everyone just gave me cash and we put it all on my credit card (I didn’t have enough cash).  That’s going to be a lovely bill, let me tell you.

Afterwards, all of us went to the Delirium bar, which is famous for having over 2000 beers or some jazz like that.  I don’t know that I totally believe that.  Anyways, a band was going to play (didn’t until after I’d left), so the bar was INSANELY crowded.  Dinner had been expensive so I didn’t want to spend any more money, but I went just to hang out with everyone. We were packed in the bar like sardines.  David and I wound up pressed into a corner, our space more and more infringed upon as the guy behind me grew drunker and drunker.  David himself got a little fuzzy; we had a lovely conversation about relationships, haha.  However, the noise and lack of space in the bar paired with my lack-of-caffeine headache (I never did get my coffee) finally got bad enough that I left a little before midnight. 

Walking home alone after dark wasn’t nearly as shady as I had feared.  The city actually, in some ways, feels nicer after dark when you can’t see all the graffiti and trash anymore, when fewer people are out, when people aren’t so boisterous.  The boys offered to walk me home, but I was fine and made it back to my hostel only to face plant in bed, exhausted.  After all, I’d left my hostel at about 9am and walked around almost all day.  It was a good day, though.

I forgot my Dora the Explorer bandaids at home!

The day started out terribly.  I woke up after not getting any sleep because of the boys next door, and went for the 7:33am train to Venlo.  Unfortunately, this is the bus all the high schools and middle schoolers take to school.  And you can’t buy round-trip before 9am, so my ticket was twice as expensive.  On the way to the station, we hit a roadblock andd had to take a long detour, so I wound up missing the first train I was aiming for.  Then, running up the stairs to catch the next train, I wiped out and skinned my knee/bruised it up.  Really, what 19-year-old skins her knee?  At this point, I had not had coffee and so was almost in tears by the time I boarded train.

Had one connection in Dordrect where I crammed onto a standing-room-only train.  However, as Rosendaal, the next stop, who should be getting on but Sam and David.  They grabbed my hand and pulled me along, so I wound up spending the rest of the ride with them and a bunch of the other musical theatre kids (Meredith, Blake, and Scott) in the very first compartment of the train.  The male train attendant who kept coming up to make announcements over the PA was very nice, particularly to me.  He pretended like he was going to let me make the announcement (in Dutch!), wouldn’t let me look out the window at a sketchy part of town, and even, when he dropped his keys in front of me, said it was because he was so impressed with me.  Too cute.

I got off two stations before everyone else with only a faint hope that we would all run into each other.  Then began a really crummy two-hour search for my hostel.  My directions depended on my finding “Place Rogier,” however I could not find this location on ANY map.  So I wandered and wandered and FINALLY found the stupid place, after meandering through Brussels’ knock-off Red Light District, the school zone, and a small park.  Of course, my first instinct had been right; I had turned back too soon.

I checked in, dropped my stuff off, and then explored a small bit.  The Botanical Gardens nearby weren’t very impressive after Hyde Park and the Boston Public Garden, but at least it was a nice change from all teh dirtiness and construction around my hostel.  St. Maria’s Church, a little north of me, is gorgeous.  Of course, in wandering around it, I got myself lost in the Turkish district, the men happily calling out to me in a language I obviously don’t understand. 

Looking for something to eat, I found the central shopping district which, to be honest, looks like any downtown shopping district.  A city mall surrounded by narrow streets lined with clothing and shoe stores.  Kinda dirty.  I finally stopped in a grocery store to pick up a salad with curry for dinner.

I was so disgusted with the lameness of Brussels at this point that I went back to my hostel in a huff to nap for a bit and recoup.  I had lost an earring back (and later the entire earring, which is my pair that I wear almost daily! it sucks so much) and my shoes were just beginning to destroy the backs of my feet.  My impression thus far had been that Brussels was dirty and ugly, the men were rude.  The only interesting aspect thus far (and that was supposed later on) is that there are SO many interracial couples that it’s noticeable.  I mean, no, I don’t usually pay attention to the skin color of couples.  But it’s a noticeable cultural trend in Brussels, which I found interesting.

Fortunately, after a nap, Brussels redeemed itself.  I went back out in the evening and really only walked for two hours, but I saw enough of a much pretteir side of Brussels during those two hours to save teh trip.  The Congress Column with the tomb of an unknown soldier was beautiful, if kinda randomly shoved to the side of the Rue Royale.  I found Brussels’ Royal Park (not very impressive, but hey, it’s there) and then the Royal Palace itself which is quite beautiful.  I was more impressed with it than with Buckingham, to be honest.  I was taking a picture of myself in front of it when this funny American woman approached and asked me very slowly if I’d like her to take my picture.  We chatted a bit.  It was lovely.

Continued walking and found another church (St. Catherine? Maybe?) which looked like a castle.  I followed some Asian tourists inside despite the “No Visiting” sign and just pretended to be clueless with them, haha.  When one of them said, ‘Oh no! Run!’ I high-tailed it outta there, haha.

What I learned, to quote from my personal journal, is that “Once you go south a bit, the streets get a little cleaner, the graffiti gets more artistic, the restaurants get more expensive, and the men practice biting their tongues.”  The center of the city is certainly the prettiest part.  I found all these expensive antique and art shops that were closed for the day, but lovely to look into.  A few nice little parks and gardens; wonderful dinner smells; a beautiful sky. 

I continued exploring some twisting streets, making sure not to wander too far West and ruin my plans for Saturday.  When the sun had set enough that I worried about getting caught in the dark,  I headed back to the hostel and hung out downstairs in the cafe.

I still, at the end of the day, wasn’t overwhelmingly impressed.  Most of the city just felt dirty and vandilized to me.  The old parts were pretty, but the newer parts were disgusting and ruined teh atmosphere.  I was sick of being yelled at or muttered to by creepy men, of all the garbage and cobbled streets.

My roommates the first night were three Brazilian girls (two were together), two of whom just came from France and gave me some tips.  The four of us talked for a bit before they grew tired of English and just spoke Portuguese amongst themselves.  Finally got sleepy enough to give up and go to bed around ten.

The question still left with me at the end of Friday was: Come on, Belgium.  Show me why you deserve to be your own country.  I had enjoyed some of the architecture, but overall, unimpressed.

Belgium, land of waffles and chocolate!

I leave for Brussels tomorrow morning, as early as I can bring myself to get up and head down to the bus station.  My goal is to make the 8:34 train, which means I’d have to catch I think the 7:03 bus.  I don’t know that this is going to actually happen, but I’d sure like to try.   Although to tell you the truth, I’m feeling lazy and not really in the mood to go anymore, haha.  I think it’s just that there’s SO much travel coming up that it’s overwhelming, and I’m ready for it to be all over already.  I’m kinda ready to have done all the great stuff I’ve got coming up and be back at home with my family for the holidays.

But that’s not an option.  So off I go tomorrow to Brussels.  I’m not entirely sure what I’ll do there (I’ve got some ideas, but nothing concrete).  The hostel site says they have internet access, though I’m not sure they mean wireless.  I’ll be taking my laptop anyways, just for journaling purposes, but nobody expect me to get online again until Sunday night when I get back to the castle (not too late because I’ve got some papers due Monday).  If there’s not wifi, I probably won’t waste the money on internet cafes when I’ll only be gone a couple days, but you never know.

Anyways.  That’s said.  David and a bunch of the other musical theatre kids are staying at my hostel, so I’m sure I’ll run into them, maybe hang with them a bit.  Who knows.  As for now . . . I’m going to go put my chocolate pudding back in the fridge before I puke, do some crunches, take a shower and pack, book my Monaco trip with Amanda, then probably putter around online some more.  Nothing like whittling your life away e-mailing and iming!!