Chocolate and Mussels in Brussels

I suppose life would be boring if everything went as planned. Life has been anything but boring since we left Vancouver so why should today be any different? I tapped out that last piece while we were on a train enroute to Brussels but shortly after putting the ’puter away we pulled into Essen where someone announced in three languages (none of them English) that there was a problem with the engine. “Peut-etre dix minutes” but ten minutes later a second announcement said it would be at least 15 minutes more. The third announcement sounded the death knell for the train. It would go no farther explained the conductor when asked (in English) and we would have to get off and wait on the next platform over for the next train.

So Deb, Luka and I and a few hundred of our closest friends hauled our luggage down one staircase and up another and tried to position ourselves where we thought the doors might stop. Couldn’t have been further wrong; we were equidistant between doors and decided to head to our right. Now the train that pulled in was already mostly full so combining our train with theirs meant it would be tight even without our two large cases, two backpacks and shoulder bag (oddly enough, I’ve been wearing the same clothes all week). As we got close to the door it looked as if the next door down had fewer people and perhaps more space but when we got there we saw they were already jammed. We scurried back to the first door and the conductor was blowing his whistle as I hoisted up Luka and the closing train door mechanically squeezed me in behind him.

The arrivals screen at the station let Guillaume know our train was an hour behind schedule so he was still there when we arrived in Brussels. He had stayed with us for a few months in 2005 and we’d enjoyed his company so were looking forward to see him again. The plan was he’d be our tour guide to Brussels and then drive us to our B&B in Bruges and some things do go as planned.

Our first stop in Brussels was to drop our bags at his apartment, a ten minute walk from the station and then our footour of Belgium’s capital began. There’s the standard sights one should see as prescribed by the guide books but locals rarely if ever visit. And there’s those the locals just shake their heads in disbelief that anyone would want to see them. Like the manneken pis and its female counterpart, janneken pis. They’re small statues peeing but the crowds around would suggest a miracle worthy of Lourdes was taking place. OK, not the best Brussels had to offer but I got my pix.

The cold was winning the weather battle against an impressive sun; great for the fotos, lousy for warmth and honestly, I just don’t look that good in a toque. We strolled the palace, the humongous central square with its ancient buildings and the Hall of Justice but were happiest when we defrosted at our early lunch. The place Guillaume chose was half art gallery, half violin maker shop and all restaurant. When the waiter wasn’t clearing tables he was tending to his instruments, occasionally playing for the guests. Well, not when we were there, but that’s the concept.

A little more strolling then back to the apartment for our bags and the drive to Bruges. An uneventful hour on the freeway and we were on the outskirts of Bruges, a city that doesn’t like cars so we parked, grabbed our bags and started dragging them into the city. Tomorrow I’ll tell you what we found...