When you think of Brussels, or Belgium in general, you probably think of the waffle, perhaps chocolate, or if you're a bit of an "alcohol connossieur," you may think of beer. I thought of all those things (bier first, of course), but I also took great excitement in the fact that Belgium counts German as an official language. So, I embarked on an excursion to Bruxelles from London today with a goal to drink bier and speak in meine Lieblingsprache.
Brussels is a small city, which is perfect when you only have about four hours to spare (which I did). In fact, I was able to visit the Grand Place/Grote Markt, Kathedraal St. Nicholas, and the Parc de Bruxelles in about an hour and a half. However, please notice that none of the words above are German...and remember my goal #2.
Turns out that even though German is a recognized official language, most people completely ignore that and are, quite frankly, stunned when you approach them speaking it. I managed to find a handful (okay, maybe three people - that doesn't quite fill a hand) of people. I was beside myself to have a simple conversation auf Deutsch about directions with a gay couple - I'm surprised they didn't take off running with the way I threw myself at them. Auf Deutsch, of course. By the way, throwing yourself at someone auf Deutsch is the equivalent of showing emotion. For the record.
I'd achieved my goal of German speaking, but I still had to redeem myself by drinking a beer/bier...and there was one more sight left on the list after I'd tackled the park and the palace. The Manneken Pis.
There's nothing that goes better with beer/bier than urination - they go hand in hand, and please don't go any farther with that statement. Too late, I know you already went there.
The Manneken Pis is quite famous, and very old - nearly 400 years old. The peen that launched a thousand imitators is located in close proximity to the Grand Place, but unfortunately, not easy to find on my little map. No matter, I set off in search of the Little Pee Boy and ultimately a bier/beer.
I found plenty of cherub statues, but this boy was hard to find! Little did I know - all I had to do was follow the giggling masses and I'd find one of the two substances I was looking for. At long last I reached him, and - I couldn't even get a good shot. He was dressed. Turns out, the Belgians dress him up several times per week, and I totally missed the schedule. Yes, there's a schedule - and if you happen to have any old suits that you/your children have outgrown, or maybe your dog - you can offer them up for the lil guy.
As you can imagine, all this walking really worked up an appetite! My time was waning in Bruxelles, but I managed to finally fill my belly with a long-awaited beer/bier (probably not the makings of a filling meal, but nonetheless...). It was worth the wait - a delicious Witbier - at a proper Belgian bar, complete with inattentive, terrible service.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
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