Brussels, Bruxelles, Brussel

You see when it comes to cities of the world Paris and London are quite possibly the reason a list ever got started, Brussels however, well… happens to be in Belgium, and Belgium seems to have claimed the unenviable rank of “the un-cool western Europe” – I’m not sure of how it got started but the Walloons (the French speaking contingent in the southern half of Belgium) suffer from the same existence that it seems any soul who happens to be francophone without actually living in France is destined for.. unfortunately the Flemish, located in the north of Belgium, also suffer from the same disenfranchised red-headed-step-child syndrome from their Danish speaking neighbors to the north, ironically seen as the “hip all-accepting” Netherlands.

There is definite evidence of an attempt at branding, but somehow the icon chosen, while uniquely Belgian, seems to only underline the uncool. Manneken Pis is somewhat amusing, yet, almost as if in direct rebellion against the impressive larger than life London Eye and Eiffel Tower Monsieur Manneken is smaller than life size, all of 24 inches. However, I will say that it is a favorite European city of many who have actually taken up residence; large expat community, central location and friendly people.

Big Brother and I had a tremendous time; the grand finale of our tour was filled with chocolate, walking the Grand Place day and night, crepes, royal gardens, oh, and a mini family reunion!

While we were there a music festival featuring talented classically trained youth filled in the experience with the occasional quartet. Of course, because it could be no other way, it just happened to be the one week a year that the royal gardens are open to the public. After navigating the public transit system, wandering away from the tourist ready made Grand Place, we walked in a light rain, hopefully heading in the direction of the royal grounds. As we got to the gate, the line beginning to grow as the sunset and the evening hours commenced, I realized that plans might have gone awry indeed.. the transit had cost more than planned and well, I’d left my trusty black book, with my emergency euros, in the hotel.. Night Tour of Royal Belgian Gardens €3, missing it because you’re €0.40 short.. lame. However, the old man at the gate kindly took our token offering and let us both through, phew! A two mile loop through magnificent green houses of the royal standard (featuring many of the plants that grow in my front yard.. though their collection was probably from the Congo..), a five story pagoda, and tunnels covered in every shade of geranium, a room larger than my house dedicated to azaleas, also of every shade (the list goes on and on, my knowledge, however, does not). Romantical!

The mini family reunion was a ton-o-fun! Cousins, Karaoke and Irish Car Bombs – good times had by all!! Of course I did fail to introduce J to Belgian waffles.. so, we must return, ‘cuz oh baby.. they’re soo worth it! Brussels’ sprouts? Well, I don’t know..

So, voila! I think I’m ready for another birthday..