Beer and Waffels... it can only be Brussels

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I had booked a trip to Brussels for the weekend months in advance with EuroStar, and following such a busy week in Austria it was easy to forget about the other trips I had.

I had not the time to research, get excited or even book accommodation. Brussels was scheduled only 5 nights after coming back from the snow.

The night before leaving I was scouring the internet sites for cheap accommodation, after spending a week, sleeping in a single bunk (which I shared with Matas) in a room with 3 other friends, I decided that I needed space.

I booked at the Radisson, 4 stars of king bed-spa bath luxury. Perfect.

The EuroStar was amazing, incredibly fast and very comfortable. I was in Brussels in less than 2 hours. I taxied to my (fabulous) hotel, checked in, touched up the face and scurried back to the reception, 'show me to the nearest bar!' I HAD planned a quiet weekend, but right now I was excited and it was Friday night.

The bar was pumping, blasting out what I guessed to be a mixture of Arabic and western pop music. I was no more than a moment at the bar when I had a group of young man surrounding me; did I have a sign reading 'fresh meat' on my back? Belgium men, by far have proved to be the most shameless and direct I have experienced. They were not sleazy; however they did not hesitate to open an introduction with 'where is your boyfriend' (not DO you HAVE a boyfriend, apparently it would seem that if he is foolish enough to let you out alone, your fair game).

I was amused by the attention and also thankful as standing alone in a bar is never a fun night. I soon peeled myself away and started a conversation with a group of Americans who all lived locally. We had a few drinks together and made plans to meet up the next night.

On Saturday I (for some off reason) woke at 10am and went for a run around a lovely park. Although I have seen many people walking dogs, playing with their children and exercising, seeing these common activities in an entirely different part of the world gives me a soaring satisfaction. A tingle let’s call it. I don’t know why, but whenever I visit a new place, people watching is the top of my list, I feel, just for a moment, that I am part of their life, and that makes me feel lucky.

I headed to a local restaurant with a menu not translated into English, I asked for a local dish and was ecstatic with the Rabbit and red wine that was placed in front of me. So much flavour, it was simply delicious, it took every restraining muscle in my body not to pick up the bones and suck every morsel of meat from the bone. Devine does the dish no justice.

Feeling that my run balanced the chocolate bar I purchased, I went back to my hotel, watched a movie and fell asleep until 4pm. I begrudgingly forced myself off the bed and into the afternoon. I rented a bike and peddled my way across the city. Brussels is beautiful, but then, what European city have I visited that has not awed me?

Narrow streets, friendly locals, waffles and beer, Was this not European paradise? I did not hesitate to sample everything sweet on offer, Specula Ice cream and other teeth rotting excitements filled my stomach, but when I was invited by the Americans for dinner, I knew I could force more.

They took me though winding lane ways and under dark arches, we stopped at a steak house. Never my first choice, but I was happy to oblige, and the meal was amazing. They then took me from bar to bar, never having the same beer twice. Ale, Lager, Dark, Stout blah blah blah, there was no way I could possibly get through what was on offer. One bar alone hold the Guinness world record for most beers available, an amazing 3000!

The Belgium’s took their beer with the upmost seriousness and there were beer connoisseurs walking through out the bar to assist you with your selection.

Once particular bar served the beer in scull mugs and had coffins for tables, the roofs were low and the music gothic. An amazing experience, for had I not been fortunate to meet locals, I would have never guessed what lay behind the unmarked door.

I spent most of my night chatting with one particular American host, there was an obvious attraction however neither one of us were willing to act on this, I found myself drawn to him, however as things with Matas had just kicked off I was not inclined to satisfy my curiosity. I did however allow myself an innocent kiss goodnight. He was very interesting; however the timing was unfortunately not right.

In the morning I took full advantage of the late check out, enjoyed the spa, and pampered myself with all of the miniature products.

I hired another bike and cycled from market to market, eating my way around. I took the tourist pictures and simply felt at peace. Although all around me was hustle and bustle, tourist and buskers, local musicians, aromatic smells, inside I was warm, silent, content, and happy.

I had regained myself. Cleared my mind.

I stocked up on gifts for my friends and headed back to EuroStar.

It was only a weekend, but the tight pants were worth each moment. Fabulous.

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