If It's Tuesday, this must be... (Part Two)

Bill writes: After Bruges we took the train to Brussels, where we arrived later that afternoon. Brussels is a much more modern, industrial city than Bruges, and unfortunately, they have torn down much of the finest, oldest parts of the city to make way for the (uglier) newer parts. This is one of the few survivors from the art nouveau.



Fortunately, some of the old remains, and that is mainly what is worth seeing in the city.

Aline had found us a great little hotel, called the Welcome Hotel. It is small, but each room is individually, uniquely, and beautifully designed. As we'd almost run into the travel writer Rick Steves in Bruges the day before, so it turned out that he was friends with the owner (who we got to know during our short stay there) and had a room in the hotel as well. Our room was the Bali room for instance, and you can get a bit of an idea of what it looked like.



Once we finished checking in, we took a long walk through the city. Across the street, a fair was going on, featuring dancers and various performers from Bolivia



And eventually had dinner at Cochon d'Or. This was a restaurant that Michael, the hotel's owner had suggested to us. He'd been a top chef before opening the hotel, and picked this restaurant for some of the best mussels in town. As they were just two doors down, eating there was an easy decision, and a good one, as their Mussels Provencal with pomme frites (french fries--mussels and fries are a national dish) was one of the best dishes I'd ever eaten. Of course, we had to walk it off afterwords, getting some coffee and then some beignets at a small stand.



The next morning, our final day in Belgium, we headed out for a long day of sightseeing. One thing I'd read about, but which was still a bit of a culture shock, was something I noticed as I walked by Saint Catherine's cathedral, across from our hotel: some men walked up along the side of the cathedral, turned to the wall, and relieved themselves there against the cathedral. The side wall of Saint Catherine's is actually an open air public urinal, with urinal dividers built into the wall. I didn't grow up catholic, but I'd sort of assumed that peeing on a cathedral had to be some kind of sin. But I guess it's not, which makes it doubly a relief I suppose.

The next morning, our final day in Belgium, we headed out for a long day of sightseeing. The first thing I noticed was as I walked by Saint Catherine's cathedral, across from our hotel. One thing I'd read about, but it was still a bit of a culture shock, was when I saw some men walk up along the side of the cathedral, turn to the wall, and relieve themselves there against the cathedral. The side wall of Saint Catherine's is actually an open air public urinal, with urinal dividers built into the wall. I didn't grow up catholic, but I'd sort of assumed that peeing on a cathedral had to be some kind of sin. But I guess it's not, which makes it doubly a relief I suppose.

I suppose that scene was emblematic of Brussels, the consequences of high culture and overcrowding. So we'd see 3- and 4-year-olds begging outside the chocolatiers, or aged drunk transexuals sitting on the sidewalks before entering the Grand Place.

The Grand' Place is the place to see in Brussels, if just to sit on the perimeter and have a cup of coffee as we did.

The Grand' Place









I've made a 2-minute silent video using my digital camera. Again, it's just for the very bored among you who have a high-speed connection, as it's not very interesting and it's 40 MB. Similarly to the other video, click here to get it:

Dull video of the Grand' Place

Afterwards, we went by the castle ruins. And then spent an hour at the antique stalls and buying chocolate at Marcolino's, the best chocolate in Belgium. Next, we went over to the Musees Royaux des Beaux-Arts museum. Now this is everything a world-class art museum ought to be. The initial view is intoxicating.





Yet each piece of art is set off on its own in a neutral surrounding.





There, they had one of Aline's favorite paintings, "The Fall of Icarus," by Breughel, which was the inspiration for Auden's poem, also a favorite of Aline's.

About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters; how well, they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

We then walked through the main park, had tea, and stopped by the Brussels Film Museum which, along with the requisite Jerry Lewis homage, houses some great machines from the earliest days of film-making and before. From there, it was back to the hotel, off to the train station, and home to London.