This year the flight out was on Labor Day. Roger dropped me off at the Londonderry bus station. I expected the traffic to Boston to be heavy, but it was not as heavy as might have been expected on a major holiday, and we got to Logan without any special delay. Learning from past trips, I had upgraded myself into Delta’s Economy Plus, which made for priority boarding, and more critically gave me reasonable leg room. This was a major improvement. Alas, a red-eye flight is still a red-eye flight, and it was still impossible to sleep. We got in to Schiphol very early in the morning, and after clearing passport control, and then with some confusion about generating my departure gate, I settled in to about a three hour wait for the short connecting flight to Brussels. Once there fhe VBT agent picked me up and took me to the Sandton Hotel Brussels Center, well located and up to the usual VBT standards. After checking in, and having the reception desk make a dinner reservation for the next evening, it was time to be a tourist. Heading up the Rue de Luxom got me to the Galleries St. Hubert/Royale, several connected indoor malls with mostly chi-chi clothing and such, but a rather attractive layout. Walking through and continuing south brought me to the Grand Place/Grote Markt, a square surrounded by old and elegant buildings, a sightseeing jewel. After wandering around the Grand Place and getting the requisite number of photos, I continues south to the Manneken Pis, a small statue of a boy who spouted water in the way males are equipped to do. More comical than gross. But it’s a big tourist draw, so it was only quick look before leaving so I didn’t have to negotiate the big crowd. I stopped at a waffle store—they were pretty ubiquitous—a had a chocolate covered one for lunch. Aside from being available with a variety of toppings, a nice touch, a Belgian waffle is pretty much like any other waffle. After that I worked my way back through the Grand Place to the Cathedral of Sts. Michel et Gudule, the main church in Brussels and a Gothic masterpiece. After adding to my collection of stained glass and architecture pictures, I walked back to the hotel, as I was having trouble staying awake; between the flight, the early morning, and the sightseeing, I needed a rest. Later and somewhat recovered I went to dinner at Aux Armes de Bruxelles and had a really fine meal, including what seemed to be the obligatory Belgian (=French) fries. Following dinner it was a short walk to La Monnaie/De Munt, the opera house, where I heard and saw Pinnochio, a new opera. It was opening night for the season, and it began with some music from the strings. People stood up, as did I, since it was probably the Belgian national anthem. The opera proper then began, which for me was not particularly enlightening. I didn’t buy a program since although it was probably bilingual, the two languages would have been Franch and Flemish. The story was clearly much more involved than the Disney version, I was still tired, but nonetheless glad I went. The house itself was attractive, though the seats were a little cramped for me. After the opera a walk back to the hotel was refreshing, and even more so was climbing into bed.
Wednesday began with a trip to Gare Centrale/Centraal Station. I wanted to buy a transit pass, but directions to where to do so were not well marked—frankly, were not marked at all—and the information desk was particularly clueless. I finally went to a train ticket window, and the lady there proved more intelligent, pointing me in the right direction to a not-obviously located ticket window for transit where I finally was able to get a day pass. Got on the #5 metro and rode to Gare de l’Ouest/West Station. I was hoping for a grand old train station, but while attractive it was modern and relatively small. Transferred to a #6 metro to the Heysel/Heizel stop to see the Atomium at the site of the former World’s Fair. It was larger than I expected, much as had been my impression of the Eiffel Tower. Decided not to pay the overpriced admission to climb through the structure. There were other things to see in the area, but only so much time, and I decided to return to the center city. After lunch at a nearby lunch truck, a #7 tram whisked me away for a couple stops to De Wand where I transferred to a #3 and rode back to the city, an interesting ride through many neighborhoods. The tram passed Gare du Nord/Noordstation, which I had thought of exploring as well, but after the West Station disappointment and with the clock ticking, passed by and exited at Anneessens. Negotiating a couple side streets and climbing a hill—Brussels was anything but flat—brought me to a small square, the Place de la Chapelle, beyond which was the church of Notre Dame de la Chapelle, another example of Gothic architecture. Climbing another hill revealed the Place du Grand Sablon/Grote Zavel. southeast of which was a parking lot and park facing the church Notre Dame du Sablon/Zavelkerk, another Gothic example with an especially fine collection of stained glass. From Sablon I headed up Regentschapstraat to the Musées Royaux des Beaus Arts, a museum with really superb collections, particularly of Belgian and Dutch art. It was an extended visit there, and then headed north to the Place Royale, an open square surrounded by several significant buildings. Continuing on and turning right was the Place des Palais, site of the Palais Royal/Koninklijk Paleis, official home of the monarch, though not usually used as such. Across the Place des Palais was the Parc de Bruxelles/Park von Brussel, one of the city’s major parks. It was getting on in the afternoon, and from there I walked back past the Gare Centrale to the hotel to rest up a bit. Later took the metro out for dinner at Bij den Boer on Place Ste. Catherine/St. Katelijne, another city park, for which I had asked the reception desk to make a reservation the previous day. The guidebook had recommended it as a good place for mussels, which is what I got: a lot of them, along with of course, more Belgian fries. It was a long day, and after dinner and a metro ride back to the hotel, it felt good to hit the sack.