Arriving in Brussels (aka Beer Heaven)

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While the trip to the airport was far less stressful this time, we are truly beginning to dread travel days now. We probably overcompensated for our previous airport debacle by getting up at 5 am for an 8 am flight when the airport was only 20 minutes away. Tired (but full of sweet ensaimada goodness) we arrived at the airport before anything (car rental, restaurants, duty free) was even open. Luckily there was a playground in the airport to help us kill the 2 1/2 hours before our flight. Even luckier, the coffee shop soon opened.

Our flight back to Barcelona was a brief 30 minutes but we were faced with a 4 hour layover before our flight to Brussels. We were too gun shy to try getting to the city and back without missing our flight (plus we'd have had to carry our luggage with us) so we tried to entertain ourselves and Delaney at BCN. Once we were able to check, there was a lovely atrium inside where Delaney could run wild and we could enjoy not being inside. Sadly, our flight was delayed due to traffic at Paris's airport so our 4 hour layover became 5 hours. Delaney enjoyed a nice long nap in the carrier while we wandered up and down the terminal. Unfortunately, that meant she was awake for the entire 2 hour flight and mommy and daddy couldn't catch a much needed nap.

Once we landed in Brussels, I called the contact person for our apartment who, as I feared, did not speak English. I cursed my 6 years of Spanish that only culminated in my ability to read the King James version of the Bible in Spanish. She understood enough of what I said to know that we would be there in about an hour, though I said possibly 90 minutes. We took the bus to Luxembourg square, near the EU parliament and then hiked the rest of the way schlepping our bags and Delaney.

When we arrived at the apartment, there was no answer. Had she seriously left because we were later than one hour? After pushing the buzzer for the twentieth time, my over tired mind decided our traveling luck had finally run out and we had been scammed. How were we going to find an apartment at 5:30 on a Friday night? Delaney was passed out cold in the carrier on my back so I sent Pat to find a phone and call the contact lady and then waited. Much to my sheer joy, he soon returned and said she just kept saying 'five minutes, five minutes'. Soon a car tried to do a 20 point turn to parallel park in a spot barely big enough for a tricycle. It was the owner and her son her spoke 'some English'. That's better than our 'zero French'.

They show in to our apartment where we were ready to pass out on the couches before they even gave us the keys. Somehow we managed to stay awake long enough to find out where a grocery store was and to find out how to walk into the center of town.

We found a small ethnic market and grabbed the most random assortment of foodstuffs (babaganoush in a can, eggs, fanta zero, blueberries) and some much needed Belgian beers. Pat left on a mission to get take out food while I put Delaney to sleep. About 90 minutes later I started to wonder exactly what the Belgian equivalent of 911 was when Pat still hadn't returned. It was the first time on the trip I wished we had cell phones. Luckily he soon returned with a bag of African food. He had asked someone to suggest a quick place for takeout and apparently they had very different definitions of 'quick'. In the end, the food was very good: goat with onions and plantains and fish with taro, rice, and other vegetables. They also included two tiny sides of the most ridiculously hot sauce we have ever come across (and those of you who know us know how impressive that is). They should have given us a dropper for dispensing it.

The next morning, we wandered into town and saw the Royal Palace, Grand Square, and Mannekin Pis (the peeing boy fountain....how the heck did it get so famous?). We also enjoyed our first round of Frites (French Fries, which are Belgian actually) and another Belgian beer on a patio. After D's afternoon nap we headed to a large park and enjoyed the rest of the lovely afternoon.

So far we are really enjoying our location (Ixelles neighborhood). It is quiet and just outside the center of the city (about a 15 minute walk) and feels much more authentic than the heavily touristed center. We're having a bit of sticker shock as well (one beer costs as much as an entire bottle of Spanish cava and we won't be having any 3 course meals for 10 Euros here). Apparently Spain's financial crisis was our gain, but we're still able to easily live on the 80 Euros/day budget we created for ourselves. The only drawback thus far has been our lack of French skills, but it's good training for next week when we'll be completely useless with Greek (other than the bad words I learned going to high school in Tarpon Springs).

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