Solo Day in Bruxelles

Merlin and I spent a day in Brussels apart. It was about 4 hours total, but was still the longest amount of alone time either of us have had in about a month. We were pretty excited about it, simply because our dinner conversation had started to sound like this:

One of us: Did you know (insert some information about something)...?
The other one of us: Yep, I was there when that guy told us that, too.

I decided to spend my "apart" time doing some walks outlined by our nifty "feel like a local" city map, given to us by the hostel in Mechelan. We had used a map by the same company in Ghent and then in Mechelan and they both seemed to work out well.
Naturally, the first thing I did was have some ice cream. (Banana). The cones are thinner and longer here which I prefer for two reasons 1) the scoop set atop can't be as enormous, which helps a girl out if she's planning on having two or three a day 2) it takes much longer for the ice cream drippings to reach your hand. After that business was taken care of, I started on the prescribed journey.
First up was this park or garden, as it was called.
My favorite park in New York had always been Bryant Park, because I felt like it was this bit of peace right there squished between 5th Avenue and the madness of Times Square. Well, Bryant Park has nothing on this place. It is literally in the middle of the busiest highway in the city. As you walk around you can hear the traffic whizzing by, but somehow it only made it seem more like an oasis.
I really wanted to sit and read the book I had bought at an English bookstore earlier in the day (when on a search for the Mad Men issue of Rolling Stone), but knew that it would be best to keep on trucking.
The next stop on my tour was "the last remaining original frite stand in Brussels." Here it is with geraniums in the window and no customers. It was strange to see this sad little stand, holding on strong to its little spot, with the city built up all around it.
A lot of my walk was pretty seedy - bringing me through the red light district and the street prostitute district. In both neighborhoods, I was the only female with no goods to sell on the street and the men I passed by were less than charming. Nothing like a good stroll like that to make you miss your boyfriend.

I was pretty hungry and wanted to feel safe enough to take out my camera again when I stumbled upon this square, which I like to call "The Lobster District."
If you look closely, almost every single one of those restaurants lining the streets have a fluorescent lobster sign - the sort of red light I appreciate.
Last time I was in Brussels, this square was filled with a Christmas market. I wouldn't have recognized it at all if not for the crustacean signage.Around the corner was St- Catherine Square, which instantly became my very favorite place in Brussels.
There was a market just closing up, which I was sad to have missed, but a cheese van lingered.
As well as the moules man.
This spot on the corner sure was hopping.
On closer inspection, I could see that it was a combination fish shop/tapas restaurant.
While a big part of me wanted to cozy up next to the In Crowd, a bigger part of me wanted to sit down for the first time that day. It was basically an enormous new herring wrapped around a fistful of pickled onions.I grabbed a quick bite at the fish store, a rollmop which was even bigger and better than the one I had in the Netherlands.
After I threw that down the hatchet, I went to sit down at a cafe table under some trees, have a drink and consult my map for the route home.
I decided to make one more map-stop on my way to the hotel. This bridge separates the Moroccan part of Brussels from the rest of the city. There were bright pinwheels lining the entire border and you could smell the Moroccan spices wafting in the air.
The next day, I took Merlin out for some rollmops, then drinks at that same outdoor cafe. Naturally, we started the whole day out, though, by sharing an ice cream cone. (Rum raisin).

Place de Jeu de Balle

We can't really say that we saw the daily flea market at this square in the Marolles - but we definitely witnessed the aftermath.
It's a really huge square, with a couple of restaurants and bars on the edges. It's quiet after five o'clock or so, a lot of the places shut after lunch is finished. One bar, even, is only open during the day. We came here a few nights ago and realized that the bustle we had witnessed earlier in the day had dissipated almost entirely.
When we got there, vendors were scurrying around, picking things up and cramming them into boxes to put away. There were still some people picking through the mess, but most were definitely not the antique-hunters that are supposedly here early in the morning.
It's a big production - setting this thing up every day. There are mountains of stuff to put out. I'm not sure where it all comes from. When we got there, most articles of clothing were being sold for fifty centimes or one euro.
A suitcase full of matchboxes. This is one of two such suitcases we saw.

Books, of course, were everywhere. That man in black was going through old National Geographics.

One thing we wondered: how do the vendors keep everything separate? It just looked like a pile to us. Are these ski goggles for skiing or for dressing up?

Castle Hunting: Kasteel van Horst

Here is Kasteel van Horst, which I know next to nothing about. I know that it takes three and half hours to bike there from Mechelen, that there is a nice cafe attached, that they have their own beer (Horst Beer), and that it's very pretty.
It took us a long time to get there on our bikes (see above), and we were hungry. We ate at the cafe and had some bottles of Horst Beer, which was decent and was served with great seriousness. It was, according to our waiter, "an excellent choice."
When we got around to taking pictures of the castle, we were half asleep. It was sunny, we were a little drunk, the biking had taken a lot of energy and we wanted to take a nap. We took pictures instead.

It was a very pretty place, and it was pleasant to be out in the countryside. The "moat" was full of enormous carp - or some fish that looked like carp. We saw a few that were easily two and a half feet long.
As a bonus, we spotted this little tower on our way to Kasteel van Horst. There was a sign by the road, in Flemish, which I was not able to glean much from. I saw 14th century, and that's about it. It seemed to be attached to some later, somewhat industrial looking building, which was curious.

A Prelude to Castle Hunting

Our Lonely Planet said that there was a fine castle a little ways away that you couldn’t really find “without a good map and a set of wheels.” We visited the tourist office to do some research and found that getting to the castle was a) feasible on just two wheels each and b) would take not one, but two maps. Ever since our Dutch bicycle exploring, we’ve been excited to get back on the saddle and left the office with the two maps and a scrap of paper with bike rental information.

Four days later, we finally got up enough gusto to open the darn things, rent the bikes and get on the road. The bike trail system here in Belgium is pretty amazing and we kept a jotted down list of our route in my pocket for easy reference while we rode: Take 99 to 57 to 64 to 73 to 22 to 24 to 23 to 25 to 71 to 67 to 92 to 10 to 62 to 63 to 65. Simple, right?I managed to take a few pictures while I pedaled. Which is really impressive being as I also managed to fall and flatten some corn stalks and roll down a hill full of thistle, both from a complete stand still. If you don't know what thistle is, it's a green plant that looks really soft but feels like a thousand tiny little needles that itch.

It was amazing how throughout the trip we seemed to be right in people’s backyards, gardens and farmland. Sometimes we’d see people working in the distance and sometimes we were literally a few inches and a wire fence away from someone watering their tomato patch.
Here’s Merlin riding next to a huge pile of harvested turnips.
And here he is riding in a cornfield.
When we started off, the bike route was mainly a wide, paved road like this:
But on our journey it took different shapes.
Sometimes it was two dirt lines in the grass, sometimes all gravel, sometimes cobblestone lanes next to cars. All the while, we would be looking out for tiny green signs with the bike path number on it.
For a little while, we found ourselves biking through some serious mud ditches. We kept looking for a number sign, but there had been long stretched without them before, so we figured this was just another one of them. It was really narrow and steep and I finally had to walk my bike for a little bit to get through.

At our hungriest and muddiest, Merlin found some wild blackberries in the shrubs beside the road, which raised our spirits quite a bit. Then, we biked a little further and found ourselves right alongside an apple orchard! We stole two apples and put them in our backpack in case the hunger situation got dire. Speeding away, delinquents, we got a second wind and we made it through – discovering at the end that we were riding parallel to an actual, paved bike path the whole time.

About three and a half hours after we left Mechelen, we reached the castle. Then, it was time to stalk our prey.

A Day at the Derby

Sunday afternoon, we ran into a large crowd gathering around something going on in Mechelen. Naturally, we nudged our way in to see what all the fuss was about. There was a soap box race going on. Sometimes, Merlin feels strange pointing his camera at little kids, so he convinced me to get right up front to take pics of the action. Oh, the action I caught.

This young racer had on a helmet that was, cleverly, made out of a soccer ball.
At least I thought it was clever, until he got a little closer and I realized it rendered him completely unable to see anything in front of him.
This little girl was a winner. I’m not sure if she actually won anything, but she sure had that look of determination.Then, there was this little boy. He had such a cool shark car! He looked so excited! Off he went!
And then he hit a haystack.

The man who had been giving a play by play over a loudspeaker ran over right away to see if the little boy was okay.But being a true journalist – he nabbed the post-accident interview, too.
After that excitement died down, we decided to see what was going on behind the scenes.
The kids were, understandably, really into them.
I've never been in a soap box race, but I do remember making my pinewood derby car for the annual Boy Scouts race (they were nice enough to let the sisters join in the fun). I'd pick a theme and then super glue just the right amount of quarters to the top to make sure it would fly down the ramp to a victory. I think I prefer that to this soap box thing. Far less dangerous.

A wedding in Leuven

This couple was getting married at the grand city building in Leuven's main square. There was a small crowd, the bride and groom wore green, everyone was happy. It wouldn't have merited mention here, except that…
…this was their getaway vehicle. I had taken some pictures of it before we saw the bride and groom. Pretty amazing little thing.
It took them too long to finish talking to everyone, so we moved on before they actually got into this thing. Later, when we were sitting outside at a cafe table, we heard a cheer and then we saw them speed by. Unfortunately, I wasn't quick enough with my camera.

Carnival in Leuven

As much as Europe is different from the United States - as much as we want to think that it's different - the people in both places share some basic desires. We share a need to mill aimlessly around a dirty, loud space with unnecessary lights. Both peoples love awful food from suspect carts. Everyone loves rides - or at least watching people get off of rides. Games of skill and luck are fascinating.
We got to Leuven on a beautiful Sunday, without realizing that there was some kind of carnival going on. We spent quite a bit of time wandering around before we noticed the ferris wheel. We decided that we really should take a ride - "to get pictures from the top," we told ourselves.

The pictures were great, of course, as was the ride. We were definitely the only people between the ages of twelve and forty, but that was fine.
Notice all of the empty tables at these cafes below us - it was tough to find a place to sit in the rest of the city, but here the noise and commotion limited the appeal of sitting outside. It was nice up high, though, in our little hanging basket.
The interesting thing, for me, was the juxtaposition of the old buildings and the blaring midway. It was very unusual to look up from the booths and rides and see peaceful, pretty Leuven in the background.
I'm used to county fairs, which are somewhat similar, but are held in muddy fields and purpose-built barn buildings. It's a very similar thing though. The smells are the same, the rush of excited children, the barkers holding microphones, the canned noises that create a sense of bodily displacement.
I didn't buy any food or go on any rides other than the ferris wheel. I was really, really tempted by the shooting booths, though. It just looks so simple!
These poor ponies have a pretty awful life. The combination of children, noise and a confined tent-track has got to be a hard thing to take.
Leaving Leuven - after we walked all afternoon, had drinks and dinner and more drinks - we'd almost forgotten about the fair. On the way to the train station, though, we passed by the ferris wheel and almost got on it again.

Hagel Face

We saw this in a gallery window in Leuven, Belgium. That's chocolate hagelslag all over her face. If I had money to spare and/or a home with a wall to hang it on, I would have bought this. I wish I could have gotten a better picture, but the print was about four feet tall and showed the length of this little girl's body. It was amazing.