rain in Bruxelles
Oct 6 (written Oct 8)
Our first day, we woke up around 10 (which means we missed the hotel’s complimentary breakfast… figures) and after layering up - literally had on 4 shirts a hat and a scarf - we hit the town in search of some famous Belgian waffles. Ok, the four of us totally forgot that Europe, liek, doesn’t eat breakfast and literally walked for almost an hour before we settled on chocolate waffles from a little stand. I was starving and they tasted fabulous in the moment but about 20 minutes later we were all kinda regretting having eaten that much sugar in the morning; it’s just not healthy. Heh. Whoops.
A quick detail to mention that I thought was so funny that I had to walk away because I couldn’t stop laughing, was the uni-brow on the dude that sold Laura water… omigod, it was THE most perfect uni-brow I have ever seen and I will never forget it.
Anways… after trying to get some directions to a few touristy places in the city from the guy at the front desk (who was actually a big douche bag to us; ugh I miss US customer service) we trekked back out in the rain to the tram that runs all over the city and hopped on. Where we were going exactly? None of us really knew. We put Ben in charge of the map (even though he really sucked at folding it up). It was full of a billion colorful lines going all different directions, all labeled with words in a language that we had no clue how to pronounce. Actually, I still really don’t know what language the map was in.
All I know is that not once did we pay for public transportation… I seriously think that buying tickets was optional or something. Hahaha, actually I’m sure that we prolly woulda gotten in big trouble if we were caught, but Belgian patrollers must suck at checking those things and not once did we have to buy a ticket.
We hopped off the tram at a random stop and walked through a random park… really pretty (and freezing and wet) but random. Actually, we did manage to find the Royal Palace; word on the street is that Belgium has liek a king or queen or something, and that was their house, and they um… ok, actually I have no idea but I assume that since it’s called the “Royal Palace” and since there were two uniformed guys marching in front of it with big, scary, guns, someone “royal” MUST live there. We took pictures; I think they came out well.
Another quick detail: it feels good to not be recognized as an American. Twice while we were in Belgium people came up to me speaking some-language-other-than-english (German maybe?); I actually prolly looked really retarded when I blankly stared at them with my mouth open… whatever. It was exciting.
After the ROYAL Palace, we stood in the rain (Yea. That was fun. Ugh. Rain.) and hopped back on the tram in the direction of what we thought was the GRAND Palace. Um, after about 20 minutes on the tram and not being there yet, and after realizing that the buildings/people on the tram started to look really ghetto we sorta started to freak out. A lady told us that we were definitely going the wrong way and that we had to get off and go back the other way… so we got off the tram. In. The. Belgium. Ghetto… oh fabulous.
Fortunately there was a really beautiful cathedral nearby and figured we might as well check it out (I mean, we didn’t come to the ghetto for nothing, right?). Pictures. Pictures. Pictures. Then we wandered into a really incredible cemetery; the contrast between the bright yellow leaves all over the floor and the sad grays of the really extravagant tombs and gravestones made for fabulous pictures. I’ve decided that one of my next big investments is going to be a new camera; I’m sorta sick of Dan rubbing it in my face at how good is camera is…
For 15 minutes we attempted to hail a cab and finally gave in and hopped on ANOTHER tram which ACTUALLY took us to the Grand Palace area. Our first stop was a restaurant for some french fries and beer... it figures that we would pick the only fucking bar in Belgium that didn’t serve french fries.
Whatever, I discovered my new favorite alcoholic drink: RASPBERRY BEER. Omigod. It’s like drinking juice. Liek, really really really good juice. Everyone should try it. So anyways… after chatting for a while, and eating Dan’s cheese platter, the rain finally died down, and we headed out to find some REAL lunch.
Ten minutes later we were in another restaurant happily munching our beloved french fries and drinking some local beer (that had a hint of cinnamon in it? It wasn’t my favorite…). It was fun sitting in the window watching and laughing at tourists’ umbrellas flip inside out, getting rained on, and tripping over cobblestones… haha, suckers.
For the rest of the afternoon we napped (everyone was dead tired and dehydrated). It was perfect time for napping cuz I think there was a serious downpour outside… I could hear the wind from inside our room and all I have to say is, I’m glad I wasn’t outside because I can assure anyone that if I was I probably would have thrown a fit because I hate hate hate being cold.
When nap time was finally over (it lasted for liek 3 hours), we bundled up again and took on the city for the evening. When we first left the hotel it was POURING rain. Usually I hate rain but for some reason this rain didn’t bother me – I guess Belgium rain is just better than American rain. Hm.
After walking up and down streets full of restaurants and reading menus that none of us could understand we settled on a place called “Au Boeuf Gros Let” – omigod it was so refreshing to learn that our waiter spoke Italian… how awesome is that?? We’re so used to Italy/the Italian language that even though none of us are even CLOSE to being able to fluently speak Italian it made us all feel a little bit more comfortable with the situation.
Dinner (foodwise) was interesting. I had really yummy French onion soup, chicken in a cream sauce that tasted like black licorice (yea, ew), chocolate mousse, and of course (since they eat them at every meal and it’s AWESOME) french fries. I’m proud to say that I did attempt to branch out of my eat-only-chicken-at-every-meal bubble: after A LOT of convincing (and a few glasses of wine) Laura and I each ate a mussel. Unfortunately it tasted exactly like I’ve always imagined those barnacles growing on the legs of the Manhattan Beach pier to taste and never plan on eating one ever again but I’m proud of myself anyways.
From the food, to the company, to the conversation, to the wine, to the Albert Einstein man who was sitting behind me, to watching Laura put the entire bowl of sugar cubes into Dan’s cappuccino… dinner was fabulous.
Afterwards we went out to find a bar to hang out in and ended up at an Irish pub (god it’s exciting to encounter people that speak English in Belgium). After more drinks and chatting and pictures, we spent a few minutes eavesdropping on the bartender telling a few chicks the directions to a cool discotek nearby… naturally we decided to check it out.
We didn’t make it there til hours later though… after ALMOST drunkenly wandering into a strip club (but being told not to by a local who was watching us from across the street) we ended up in a fabulous smoking lounge (where no, there was NOT a birthday party going on). Earlier during the day Ben and Dan bought Cuban cigars and wanted to smoke them sooo the decision to go to “Havana Corner,” wasn’t that difficult to make.
I’m having trouble trying to come up with the right words to do this place justice cuz it was freaking awesome. Um… dim lighting, elegant older people (we were definitely the youngest people in the whole bar), a live band playing classics I knew all the words to, two cigars (that I tried and sorta enjoyed), 120 euro of champagne, and three really cool people to hang out with… it was hard to tear ourselves away but eventually the champagne was finished and the cigars, um, died (or whatever cigars are do when they’re done) and we moved on to our next destination.
Louiza (or something like that?) was a HUGE under-the-mall discotek. This was by-far the best discotek I’ve been to in all of Europe. I know, I’ve only been to liek three total cuz of my stupid foot, but of all those this one wins. It totally reminded me of the discotek that they go to in Eurotrip; anybody? Anybody? Ok, well it makes sense to me…
God, I have a million random things to say about this place: random cokes as chasers cuz we were too cheap to buy one; Laura getting hit on by a little posse of Belgian boys; sitting in really cool thrown-like chairs but then being kicked out because they were reserved for a private party (or something like that); Dan talking to two guys that spoke MAYBE ten words of English total and telling them he was from LA and that yes, he was a famous musician; dancing on the tallest platform we could find in the dead center of the room; my arm being used as an ashtray… literally, someone put their cigarette out in my arm and the next day I woke up with a purple, pussing, burn mark on my arm where it happened. It hurt really bad and I definitely wanted to complain about it for the rest of the night but was having such a great time that I just sorta forgot about it.
Let’s see… what else… oh god, how could I forget? Half way through the evening the DJ stopped playing music and was replaced by a live performance of two ugly, wannabe, popstars that couldn’t sing and couldn’t dance and should definitely quit now and start looking for something else to do with the rest of their lives. Hey, I’m just being honest. It was painful and after a final dance to SEXY BACK (that was ruined cuz those two chicks kept chiming in on the mic) we peaced out.
So there we were: drunk and wandering the streets of Brussels at 3:30AM wanting nothing more than a chocolate covered waffle… unfortunately all the waffle stands were closed so we had to settle for the next best thing: QUICK. Ha. It’s sorta like, “Welcome to the Belgian McDonald’s.” At the time, eating there seemed like the best thing in the whole world and the food (which we’re not even 100% sure WHAT it was) tasted incredible. It wasn’t until the next morning, when we were all feeling sick and grossed out that we had eaten Belgian-fast-food-surprise at 3AM, that we realized Quick was prolly a really bad idea.
The night ended at 4AM with Laura at the front desk asking for a toothbrush, our neighbors complaining that our music was too loud, and the best massage of my entire life.
Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh Belgium. We love you.
Our first day, we woke up around 10 (which means we missed the hotel’s complimentary breakfast… figures) and after layering up - literally had on 4 shirts a hat and a scarf - we hit the town in search of some famous Belgian waffles. Ok, the four of us totally forgot that Europe, liek, doesn’t eat breakfast and literally walked for almost an hour before we settled on chocolate waffles from a little stand. I was starving and they tasted fabulous in the moment but about 20 minutes later we were all kinda regretting having eaten that much sugar in the morning; it’s just not healthy. Heh. Whoops.
A quick detail to mention that I thought was so funny that I had to walk away because I couldn’t stop laughing, was the uni-brow on the dude that sold Laura water… omigod, it was THE most perfect uni-brow I have ever seen and I will never forget it.
Anways… after trying to get some directions to a few touristy places in the city from the guy at the front desk (who was actually a big douche bag to us; ugh I miss US customer service) we trekked back out in the rain to the tram that runs all over the city and hopped on. Where we were going exactly? None of us really knew. We put Ben in charge of the map (even though he really sucked at folding it up). It was full of a billion colorful lines going all different directions, all labeled with words in a language that we had no clue how to pronounce. Actually, I still really don’t know what language the map was in.
All I know is that not once did we pay for public transportation… I seriously think that buying tickets was optional or something. Hahaha, actually I’m sure that we prolly woulda gotten in big trouble if we were caught, but Belgian patrollers must suck at checking those things and not once did we have to buy a ticket.
We hopped off the tram at a random stop and walked through a random park… really pretty (and freezing and wet) but random. Actually, we did manage to find the Royal Palace; word on the street is that Belgium has liek a king or queen or something, and that was their house, and they um… ok, actually I have no idea but I assume that since it’s called the “Royal Palace” and since there were two uniformed guys marching in front of it with big, scary, guns, someone “royal” MUST live there. We took pictures; I think they came out well.
Another quick detail: it feels good to not be recognized as an American. Twice while we were in Belgium people came up to me speaking some-language-other-than-english (German maybe?); I actually prolly looked really retarded when I blankly stared at them with my mouth open… whatever. It was exciting.
After the ROYAL Palace, we stood in the rain (Yea. That was fun. Ugh. Rain.) and hopped back on the tram in the direction of what we thought was the GRAND Palace. Um, after about 20 minutes on the tram and not being there yet, and after realizing that the buildings/people on the tram started to look really ghetto we sorta started to freak out. A lady told us that we were definitely going the wrong way and that we had to get off and go back the other way… so we got off the tram. In. The. Belgium. Ghetto… oh fabulous.
Fortunately there was a really beautiful cathedral nearby and figured we might as well check it out (I mean, we didn’t come to the ghetto for nothing, right?). Pictures. Pictures. Pictures. Then we wandered into a really incredible cemetery; the contrast between the bright yellow leaves all over the floor and the sad grays of the really extravagant tombs and gravestones made for fabulous pictures. I’ve decided that one of my next big investments is going to be a new camera; I’m sorta sick of Dan rubbing it in my face at how good is camera is…
For 15 minutes we attempted to hail a cab and finally gave in and hopped on ANOTHER tram which ACTUALLY took us to the Grand Palace area. Our first stop was a restaurant for some french fries and beer... it figures that we would pick the only fucking bar in Belgium that didn’t serve french fries.
Whatever, I discovered my new favorite alcoholic drink: RASPBERRY BEER. Omigod. It’s like drinking juice. Liek, really really really good juice. Everyone should try it. So anyways… after chatting for a while, and eating Dan’s cheese platter, the rain finally died down, and we headed out to find some REAL lunch.
Ten minutes later we were in another restaurant happily munching our beloved french fries and drinking some local beer (that had a hint of cinnamon in it? It wasn’t my favorite…). It was fun sitting in the window watching and laughing at tourists’ umbrellas flip inside out, getting rained on, and tripping over cobblestones… haha, suckers.
For the rest of the afternoon we napped (everyone was dead tired and dehydrated). It was perfect time for napping cuz I think there was a serious downpour outside… I could hear the wind from inside our room and all I have to say is, I’m glad I wasn’t outside because I can assure anyone that if I was I probably would have thrown a fit because I hate hate hate being cold.
When nap time was finally over (it lasted for liek 3 hours), we bundled up again and took on the city for the evening. When we first left the hotel it was POURING rain. Usually I hate rain but for some reason this rain didn’t bother me – I guess Belgium rain is just better than American rain. Hm.
After walking up and down streets full of restaurants and reading menus that none of us could understand we settled on a place called “Au Boeuf Gros Let” – omigod it was so refreshing to learn that our waiter spoke Italian… how awesome is that?? We’re so used to Italy/the Italian language that even though none of us are even CLOSE to being able to fluently speak Italian it made us all feel a little bit more comfortable with the situation.
Dinner (foodwise) was interesting. I had really yummy French onion soup, chicken in a cream sauce that tasted like black licorice (yea, ew), chocolate mousse, and of course (since they eat them at every meal and it’s AWESOME) french fries. I’m proud to say that I did attempt to branch out of my eat-only-chicken-at-every-meal bubble: after A LOT of convincing (and a few glasses of wine) Laura and I each ate a mussel. Unfortunately it tasted exactly like I’ve always imagined those barnacles growing on the legs of the Manhattan Beach pier to taste and never plan on eating one ever again but I’m proud of myself anyways.
From the food, to the company, to the conversation, to the wine, to the Albert Einstein man who was sitting behind me, to watching Laura put the entire bowl of sugar cubes into Dan’s cappuccino… dinner was fabulous.
Afterwards we went out to find a bar to hang out in and ended up at an Irish pub (god it’s exciting to encounter people that speak English in Belgium). After more drinks and chatting and pictures, we spent a few minutes eavesdropping on the bartender telling a few chicks the directions to a cool discotek nearby… naturally we decided to check it out.
We didn’t make it there til hours later though… after ALMOST drunkenly wandering into a strip club (but being told not to by a local who was watching us from across the street) we ended up in a fabulous smoking lounge (where no, there was NOT a birthday party going on). Earlier during the day Ben and Dan bought Cuban cigars and wanted to smoke them sooo the decision to go to “Havana Corner,” wasn’t that difficult to make.
I’m having trouble trying to come up with the right words to do this place justice cuz it was freaking awesome. Um… dim lighting, elegant older people (we were definitely the youngest people in the whole bar), a live band playing classics I knew all the words to, two cigars (that I tried and sorta enjoyed), 120 euro of champagne, and three really cool people to hang out with… it was hard to tear ourselves away but eventually the champagne was finished and the cigars, um, died (or whatever cigars are do when they’re done) and we moved on to our next destination.
Louiza (or something like that?) was a HUGE under-the-mall discotek. This was by-far the best discotek I’ve been to in all of Europe. I know, I’ve only been to liek three total cuz of my stupid foot, but of all those this one wins. It totally reminded me of the discotek that they go to in Eurotrip; anybody? Anybody? Ok, well it makes sense to me…
God, I have a million random things to say about this place: random cokes as chasers cuz we were too cheap to buy one; Laura getting hit on by a little posse of Belgian boys; sitting in really cool thrown-like chairs but then being kicked out because they were reserved for a private party (or something like that); Dan talking to two guys that spoke MAYBE ten words of English total and telling them he was from LA and that yes, he was a famous musician; dancing on the tallest platform we could find in the dead center of the room; my arm being used as an ashtray… literally, someone put their cigarette out in my arm and the next day I woke up with a purple, pussing, burn mark on my arm where it happened. It hurt really bad and I definitely wanted to complain about it for the rest of the night but was having such a great time that I just sorta forgot about it.
Let’s see… what else… oh god, how could I forget? Half way through the evening the DJ stopped playing music and was replaced by a live performance of two ugly, wannabe, popstars that couldn’t sing and couldn’t dance and should definitely quit now and start looking for something else to do with the rest of their lives. Hey, I’m just being honest. It was painful and after a final dance to SEXY BACK (that was ruined cuz those two chicks kept chiming in on the mic) we peaced out.
So there we were: drunk and wandering the streets of Brussels at 3:30AM wanting nothing more than a chocolate covered waffle… unfortunately all the waffle stands were closed so we had to settle for the next best thing: QUICK. Ha. It’s sorta like, “Welcome to the Belgian McDonald’s.” At the time, eating there seemed like the best thing in the whole world and the food (which we’re not even 100% sure WHAT it was) tasted incredible. It wasn’t until the next morning, when we were all feeling sick and grossed out that we had eaten Belgian-fast-food-surprise at 3AM, that we realized Quick was prolly a really bad idea.
The night ended at 4AM with Laura at the front desk asking for a toothbrush, our neighbors complaining that our music was too loud, and the best massage of my entire life.
Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh Belgium. We love you.
posted by tera a firenze at 1:33 AM
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