Brussels Part One

My baggage debacle aside, Brussels has been a great trip thus far. One Day One, Kyle Taylor and Anne De Crop met me at the airport. Kyle stayed with the De Crop's when he studied in Brussels a few years ago, and visits them every so often. Coincidentally, he was in Brussels to meet me. Anne is married to Marc, a banker, and they have two daughters, Clemence and Astrid. Their home is absolutely beautiful. It is a row house in a great neighborhood and is 5 floors with beautiful architecture and handsomely decorated. The De Crops are currently co-habiting with a house painter who pads around all day using the tiniest of brushes on the largest of surfaces.

After dropping my things at home and showering, Kyle took me on a tour of the city. We hit all the essentials, including Mannekin Pis (I will upload a picture later) a statue of a nude boy urinating. Legend has it that the little boy saved Brussels from a great fire using only his penis and a deftly aimed stream of urine. After a quick nap, (I awoke shouting "Those are false accusations" to Kyle), we met Clemence and her boyfriend Phillipe for some Thai food in Brussels' Congolese corner. (Globalization at its finest). We went for drinks at Delirium, which boasts 2000 beers. It was mostly Americans, so we lickety-split over to Celtica, an irish pub with 1 Euro beers until midnight. We did not stay out very late, as I was pretty jet-lagged from my flight.

After breakfast on Thursday, Kyle left for South Africa and I wandered Brussels for a good portion of the day. I read outside a sandwich shop and perused some shops, failing once more in my search for a leather satchel. I had dinner with Anne and Marc, and Marc and I discussed his job as well as my studies in Brussels. He said that lobbying is very peculiar in Brussels and a friend of his is currently lobbying to keep a loophole in a Belgian tax law that benefits large companies. I met Clemence and her two friends, Charlotte and Celine, and we drove to La Terrasse, an outdoor bar that is only open for one month every summer. It is one a man-made beach in the forest, and it is completely wild. (Picture the Georgetown waterfront with beach volleyball, a pool, young men and women who are not snobs, a live band and cheap booze).
Even though it rained intermittently, La Terrasse was excellent and I met a lot of new friends. With my limited French and most everybody's limited English, we were still able to find some common ground. When I say I am from New York, almost everyone is starstruck. I met a Belgian guy named Conor, a guy studying at Columbia, every new person insisted I try a new beer. My personal favorite is Duvel, because it tastes great and has an 8.5% alcohol volume.

After La Terrasse, we went to a disco and danced, literally, until the sun came up. It does not get dark in Brussels until 11:30 PM and the sunrises at around 5 AM. The disco, Clemence assured me, was the most exclusive in Brussels, but it was not filled with the types of people one would expect to find at similar clubs in the U.S. Everyone was very friendly and accommodating of my non-existent French. (Clemence says the Belgians are just like the French, except they are not assholes.) There was 1 American in the entire club, and she heard my lovely accent and we got to talking. She is a junior at South Carolina and finishing up a semester in Brussels. She told me that the club is where all young people in Brussels go and that it was a real treat to be here. We parted ways, but I left our conversation knowing that I was experiencing the real Brussels and was lucky to bypass the touristy bars and clubs.

I don't know if it was the aching hangover or the sun shining, but I woke up this morning completely in love with Brussels. I walked to the store to get a croissant and some juice and everyone was outside, smiling, shopping, chatting. It is a small city that is the capital of a large continent, and this contradiction provides me with a great jumping off point for my first trip abroad.

Tomorrow, I will take a day trip to Amsterdam to see the Van Gogh museum, the Anne Frank house, and, if I have time, the famed Red Light District. I read in my guidebook that is impolite to photograph the prostitutes, so Fennell will just have to settle for a vivid description. And maybe an audio recording.