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| Enjoying some trappist ales at La Lunette |
Our trip to Brussels was waylaid due to train delays and
cancellations, which I hear is not that common in Europe, so lucky us. We spent
a random night in den Haag (The
Hague), though thankfully not because we were in trouble with the United
Nations. Though we didn't visit any political buildings of interest, we did
find an Indonesian restaurant that stuffed us to the gills with delicious food
I’ve never had before. (If you ever pass through The Hague, eat at Warung
Bude Kati, order the rijsttafel, and leave
feeling more full and happy than you’ve ever been before.)
Our first stop upon finally arriving in Brussels the next morning was a café near the Grand Place that served frikandel, which is sort of
between a hamburger and a hot dog, frites (fries), and of course beer. We’d been
drinking Belgian beer our whole trip and finally we were in its homeland. My
Leffe came out of a bottle, just as it would have back home, but it still
tasted better.
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| Frikandel and frites |
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| Leffe Brown, my love. |
After lunch we wandered a bit, ducking into chocolate shops. Following
a commandment from Joel’s Belgian coworker Geraldine, we had our street waffles
sans-sauce or whipped cream on top, and enjoyed the sugary dough by itself. We
bought giant syrup-filled gumdrops and wandered the Grand Place, was accosted
by mussel vendors, and found the famous Mannekin Pis fountain, which was
smaller than I expected. We enjoyed one last beer with Emily and Roger at Poechenellekelder,
which is filled with hilarious figurines, pictures, and comics of the peeing
little boy.
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| Hot, sticky street waffles |
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| Mannekin Pis |
We bid Emily and Roger adieu at the train station and treated
ourselves to a hotel room instead of a hostel, where I took a nap (I’m not used
to day-drinking) while Joel planned our evening. Again thanks to
recommendations from Geraldine, we set out through the comic book district to
La Lunette, a bar featuring trappist ales and giant beers. We talked with a
lovely couple from the UK who used to live in Brussels, who gave us
recommendations on neighborhoods to visit. He was not a fan of Belgian fries,
which he described as akin to worms. Proper chips, he said, are flat.
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| Rochefort 8º |
After our new friends took their leave we found another
Geraldine-recommended bar, A la Morte
Subite, where I discovered my love for kriek, a sweet cherry lambic. We
indulged in frites from a cart on the way home – they are a perfect drunk food.
Our last day in Brussels had a pretty loose schedule – we had breakfast
at a Parisian-style bakery in Old Brussels, walked to the Royal Palace, and
spent a few hours with the iguanadons at the natural history museum. Our final
dinner was spent at Le
Petit Boxeur, where we celebrated our four-year anniversary, and we had
some final Belgian beers at The
Greenwich.
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| Poor iguanadons. Scientists used to believe they stood upright, but since these were displayed it's been discovered they walked on all fours. The bones here are too fragile to fix. |
Verdict: Our time here was not long enough. Need to come
back to Belgium, if even for the beer alone.
