Well no we didn’t really. How best to describe it. Let’s start at the very beginning as a wise nun once said.
On train to Cologne which adds 20 euros to cost of the day and then an unexpected announcement of a new Tori Amos tour and album when I’m not in a position to buy tickets for…grrr
The train ride to Brussels it has to be said is very pleasant, largely because we’re paying over the odds in first class and they serve us breakfast. Seats are very comfortable though and the on board staff are very accommodating. Then arrive Brussels 10.30 and discover we’ve got 9 hours to kill. And that’s the biggest problem with the place. There’s not a lot of tradition or culture to the place, it’s mostly imitations of other nations. Really the Germans invading this place was the best thing they could ever have done for the nation of Belgium as the Germans have taste and discernment and the Belgians don’t evidenced by their choice of With Love Baby as their Eurovision entry this year.
A visit to the Grand Place for photos and a swift (expensive) beer at 4 euros for a bottle or 6 for a pint. So far so good until we decide to visit the cathedral. What can only be described as organised muggers are waiting for us. They corner us pretending that they want us to sign a petition to stop homeless children being thrown out onto the street and then won’t let us go until we give them money. I offer the coins in pocket, “It’s not possible” they pine. “look your colleagues gave 20 euros each”. Knowing Nick Deller I find this very hard to believe. I spend several minutes arguing with them and am still not sure what I lost on the deal but might possibly have broken even after some slight of hand on my part. Phil fairs worst of the four of us. In any case I don’t want to save Belgian children and am surprised to hear someone in Belgium say they do as they have a reputation for using children for what can only be described as dodgy purposes.
We warn Nick that Atomium is … well a load of old balls really but still we end up trekking out to Heysel to see it. 11 euros of tedium later and we know all about immigration in Belgium through a set of boring displays and sod all else really. If we’re stupid enough, we can buy a very expensive drink on the top floor. Even we’re not that stupid it seems. We settle for a milkshake on the way back to the station.
Phil then has a burning desire to see the offices of European power. Several posh buildings with 100’s of overpaid bureaucrats but not a curved banana in sight. The park close by though is genuinely pleasant and if I was stuck in Brussels for several days (unlikely) I’d probably enjoy sitting there with a good book far from the madding crowd.
Food wise we were suckered into a meal deal from a passing restaurateur looking to palm off yesterday’s leftovers in small portions at cut-down prices. He bribes us with a free beer (which turns out to be about 0.1 l in size and is not the greatest quality. The chicken I have has been on a severe diet, as has Phil’s cow covered in Provencal sauce. Nick’s spaghetti is more bowl than string, though I credit him with making it last. He’ll clearly go far if he ever finds himself working in Ethiopia. The starters claimed to be plural croquettes but were nothing of the sort. Somewhat dissatisfying.
And so the piece de resistance of the day (who I do not know). The train ride home. The train is already 20 minutes late getting to Brussels and I’m getting an uncomfortable feeling that this country doesn’t want to let us go. We do however finally set off and the evening meal served is quite pleasant: fish with some varying kinds of legumes as well as a raspberry jelly. I opt to forgo the jelly as we’ve had quite a fulsome waffle with ice cream and toppings at the station. It does however come with free wine which is nice. Then upon leaving Liege we grind to an unceremonious halt in a tunnel and the air conditioning goes off along with the power. Announcements in German, French, Flemish and English tell us that we’re to be entombed there for some time and indeed it’s a good three quarters of an hour before we start up again. Thomas the Tank Engine it seems has run out of power and the driver is given the unpleasant task of fixing it. The train guard seems ridiculously cheerful like this is all some sort of fun game. They have strange games in Germany, it seems.
Eventually, we limp back to Cologne well over an hour late and I finally get back to my hostel at nearly midnight, having missed the Georgian party and had several people taunting us on the way home about how good it was. I’m not sure there’ll be another OnEurope day out unless it’s somewhere exceptionally nice 🙁
Belgium is a land of irrelevance. The only good things ever to come out of it were Poirot (invented by a British author), chocolate and beer. The only possible reason for its existence is as something to wipe your feet on before entering either France or Germany. In short, nuking is too good for this place. Just make sure that Witloof Bay are at the centre of the explosion when it goes off.
BELGIUM: what a load of old balls