So it's goodbye and goodnight from us, on our last night in Brussels. We've had fun on our travels, and have enjoyed keeping you oh-so-quiet blogwatchers updated on our exploits. Even if none of you are actually reading this, we'll treasure this blog as a memoir of Brussels, and hopefully we'll update it with any other significant (or not) travels we have in the future. So, for now, it's au revoir.
Yann and Tintin xx
Friday, 31 July 2009
Restaurant update: Bonsoir Clara
Following on from our what's hot and not of Brussels restaurants, we thought it only fair to update you on our latest meal out - Bonsoir Clara, to celebrate our last night in Brussels.
The decor and atmosphere were superb - bare brick walls and stained glass panels - and the restaurant certainly receives an A+ for effort; the lamb wrapped in a potato case is exactly the type of thing these bloggers go crazy for. But the execution was slightly lacking: the broad beans were a bit dry, the artichoke unusually distasteful. Overall the concept of the menu was good, and involved a variety of dishes and flavours that we wouldn't ordinarily have sampled. But the quality of the food only merits a B.
Overall, this is a safe bet for the "hot" list, and is close to being one of the best eateries in Brussels. But more care needs to be paid to the basics of quality and flavour.
The decor and atmosphere were superb - bare brick walls and stained glass panels - and the restaurant certainly receives an A+ for effort; the lamb wrapped in a potato case is exactly the type of thing these bloggers go crazy for. But the execution was slightly lacking: the broad beans were a bit dry, the artichoke unusually distasteful. Overall the concept of the menu was good, and involved a variety of dishes and flavours that we wouldn't ordinarily have sampled. But the quality of the food only merits a B.
Overall, this is a safe bet for the "hot" list, and is close to being one of the best eateries in Brussels. But more care needs to be paid to the basics of quality and flavour.
Brussels: What's Hot and What's Not
Hot:
1. Walking. Brussels is a compact city, the centre of which can be crossed by foot in around 40 minutes. By setting a brisk pace Tintin was able to walk to work in around 20 minutes. Try doing that in London!
2. Beer. Although initially confusing, the wide variety of beers available in Brussels is something to be treasured. Never again will we relax in le Perroquet with a Chimay Bleu, or take in Place du Grand Sablon with a Kriek. Sigh.
3. Greenery. Brussels has some beautiful open spaces, and although its central parks (Cinquentenaire and Parc de Bruxelles) tend to be somewhat formal, the outlying Foret de Soignes is a great place for a bike ride or picnic by the lake.
1. Walking. Brussels is a compact city, the centre of which can be crossed by foot in around 40 minutes. By setting a brisk pace Tintin was able to walk to work in around 20 minutes. Try doing that in London!
2. Beer. Although initially confusing, the wide variety of beers available in Brussels is something to be treasured. Never again will we relax in le Perroquet with a Chimay Bleu, or take in Place du Grand Sablon with a Kriek. Sigh.
3. Greenery. Brussels has some beautiful open spaces, and although its central parks (Cinquentenaire and Parc de Bruxelles) tend to be somewhat formal, the outlying Foret de Soignes is a great place for a bike ride or picnic by the lake.
4. Travel. In some ways one of the best things about Brussels is getting out of it. The city is well located for day or weekend trips to a variety of European destinations, with London and Paris only a couple of hours away, or Amsterdam, Luxembourg, Frankfurt and Cologne a slightly longer journey.
5. Civic pride. Nobody does random festivals like the Bruxellois. From Belgian National Day, to la Fete de l'Iris, to Magritte day, we've seen numerous festive goings on in this city designed to bring young and old, rich and poor, Belgian or not, out on to the streets for an old-fashioned knees up.
Not:
1. Dog poo. Now me and Tintin like small dogs more than most, as do the Belgians, but there is simply no excuse for not picking up your dog's shit, particularly if it is in the middle of the pavement or public square. As an aside, public excretion is not merely limited to the canine species as on more than one occasion I was unfortunate enough to witness people urinating a) against a church b) in the middle of a public square and c) at the end of our road.
2. Paying to use the loo. This fact probably explains the preponderance of public urination lamented in point 1. It's particularly annoying spending 40 cents to spend a penny when you're drinking in a bar - you're effectively paying for the drink to go in, and for it to come out again.
3. Rudeness. Particularly from shop assistants, public officials and waiters/waitresses. The latter are particularly good at hovering near your table, faffing about, and managing to avoid your eye contact as you desperately try to get their attention. Shop assistants will think nothing of banishing you from a store 15 minutes before closing time, or demanding to search your bag, and restaurant staff will give you a dressing down if you deign to move the chairs from their original arrangement. That said, we'll miss saying "bonjour" and "bonne journee" when entering or leaving a shop - "have a nice day" just sounds naff.
4. Ooh la la, c'est tres cher! Everything from restaurants to clothes to food in the supermarkets is more expensive here, partly due to the dismal exchange rate. Gone are the days when you could get cheapo stuff on holiday - we've been making trips back to London just to do our clothes shopping.
5. Cobbles. Responsible for ruining at least two pairs of shoes and partly responsible for ruining my ankle, the cobbles of Brussels are deadly. Female (and, indeed, male) visitors to Brussels be warned - leave those stilettos at home!
5. Civic pride. Nobody does random festivals like the Bruxellois. From Belgian National Day, to la Fete de l'Iris, to Magritte day, we've seen numerous festive goings on in this city designed to bring young and old, rich and poor, Belgian or not, out on to the streets for an old-fashioned knees up.
Not:
1. Dog poo. Now me and Tintin like small dogs more than most, as do the Belgians, but there is simply no excuse for not picking up your dog's shit, particularly if it is in the middle of the pavement or public square. As an aside, public excretion is not merely limited to the canine species as on more than one occasion I was unfortunate enough to witness people urinating a) against a church b) in the middle of a public square and c) at the end of our road.2. Paying to use the loo. This fact probably explains the preponderance of public urination lamented in point 1. It's particularly annoying spending 40 cents to spend a penny when you're drinking in a bar - you're effectively paying for the drink to go in, and for it to come out again.
3. Rudeness. Particularly from shop assistants, public officials and waiters/waitresses. The latter are particularly good at hovering near your table, faffing about, and managing to avoid your eye contact as you desperately try to get their attention. Shop assistants will think nothing of banishing you from a store 15 minutes before closing time, or demanding to search your bag, and restaurant staff will give you a dressing down if you deign to move the chairs from their original arrangement. That said, we'll miss saying "bonjour" and "bonne journee" when entering or leaving a shop - "have a nice day" just sounds naff.
4. Ooh la la, c'est tres cher! Everything from restaurants to clothes to food in the supermarkets is more expensive here, partly due to the dismal exchange rate. Gone are the days when you could get cheapo stuff on holiday - we've been making trips back to London just to do our clothes shopping.
5. Cobbles. Responsible for ruining at least two pairs of shoes and partly responsible for ruining my ankle, the cobbles of Brussels are deadly. Female (and, indeed, male) visitors to Brussels be warned - leave those stilettos at home!
The worst restaurants in Brussels
Drum roll please for the vilest of the vile of the Brussels gastronomical scene...
Cantina Cubana
Already the subject of a substantial rant, this restaurant wins the coveted title of 'Top of the Nots' in recognition of a blinding combination of appalling service and inedible food. Cantina Cubana: nul points.
Les Brassins
The New York Times raved and expats flock, but why I just cannot say. The sight of Yann leaving food unfinished is indeed a rare one, but his meal – dishwater broccoli soup followed by some sort of meat on a pile of dangerously over-salted mushrooms – was truly that bad. The vilest food we have eaten, even considering Cantina Cubana, but at least it didn't steal 3 hours of our lives.
Cantina Cubana
Already the subject of a substantial rant, this restaurant wins the coveted title of 'Top of the Nots' in recognition of a blinding combination of appalling service and inedible food. Cantina Cubana: nul points.
Les Brassins
The New York Times raved and expats flock, but why I just cannot say. The sight of Yann leaving food unfinished is indeed a rare one, but his meal – dishwater broccoli soup followed by some sort of meat on a pile of dangerously over-salted mushrooms – was truly that bad. The vilest food we have eaten, even considering Cantina Cubana, but at least it didn't steal 3 hours of our lives.
Restaurants to avoid in Brussels
Clef des champs
Quite unbelievably, this is the top-ranking resto in Brussels according to our highly-trusted toptable.com. We took our Groningen friends here in the hope of impressing, but were left with waffle on our faces. Interior is so painfully twee that it wouldn't be out of place in Disney Land, and the not-cheap food was poorly cooked. Toptable, get your facts right.
L'arrière pays
Handily located 30 seconds down the road from our flat, this place seems to draw large crowds – notably after Sunday service in the adjacent church. When we went, I ordered Cassoulet. I received a dish of cold baked beans with a couple of cocktail sausages thrown in, artistically sprinkled with parmesan. No.
Délire Parisien
Everything about this place screams tourist restaurant: unimaginative menu, so-so food, soulless interior, braying Americans. Not worth the bother.
Le Marmiton, Galleries St. Hubert
We ate here once out of desperation, knowing that the location of this place on the corner of the über-touristy rue des bouchers made eating there a highly dangerous move. Food wasn't entirely horrible, but this place is definitely best left to the tourists.
Anarkali
Brussels, much to our dismay, sorely lacks good Indian restaurants. Anarkali does very little to address that lack. The concept – self-service buffet – is certainly appealing, but the food was bland and watery and barely warranted a second fill of the plate, not something I would often say.
Easy Tempo, rue haute
Lured in by the smart interior and appetizing antipasti presented on the counter, we were sorely disappointed with our boring, stodgy pizzas. Another not.
H2O
Restaurant right in the heart of Brussels's gay scene, this place was pretty forgettable. Brussels has better to offer.
Magic Rubens
Another place we visited when desperate for somewhere to take guests (Yann's parents in this case), the food was second rate.
Quite unbelievably, this is the top-ranking resto in Brussels according to our highly-trusted toptable.com. We took our Groningen friends here in the hope of impressing, but were left with waffle on our faces. Interior is so painfully twee that it wouldn't be out of place in Disney Land, and the not-cheap food was poorly cooked. Toptable, get your facts right.
L'arrière pays
Handily located 30 seconds down the road from our flat, this place seems to draw large crowds – notably after Sunday service in the adjacent church. When we went, I ordered Cassoulet. I received a dish of cold baked beans with a couple of cocktail sausages thrown in, artistically sprinkled with parmesan. No.
Délire Parisien
Everything about this place screams tourist restaurant: unimaginative menu, so-so food, soulless interior, braying Americans. Not worth the bother.
Le Marmiton, Galleries St. Hubert
We ate here once out of desperation, knowing that the location of this place on the corner of the über-touristy rue des bouchers made eating there a highly dangerous move. Food wasn't entirely horrible, but this place is definitely best left to the tourists.
Anarkali
Brussels, much to our dismay, sorely lacks good Indian restaurants. Anarkali does very little to address that lack. The concept – self-service buffet – is certainly appealing, but the food was bland and watery and barely warranted a second fill of the plate, not something I would often say.
Easy Tempo, rue haute
Lured in by the smart interior and appetizing antipasti presented on the counter, we were sorely disappointed with our boring, stodgy pizzas. Another not.
H2O
Restaurant right in the heart of Brussels's gay scene, this place was pretty forgettable. Brussels has better to offer.
Magic Rubens
Another place we visited when desperate for somewhere to take guests (Yann's parents in this case), the food was second rate.
Other places to eat in Brussels
La Cantine de la Ville
We only managed one visit to this place, which seems a shame looking back. The 50s diner look is fab, and the food is simple but tasty. Fine dining this is not, but La Cantine de la Ville is still a great place to go for a relaxed meal and a drink.
Bla Bla
Arty interior and warm atmosphere make this place a must for Sunday brunch. Make sure you're ravenously hungry, and be prepared to splash out on the deluxe brunch option, which gives you access to all three buffet tables.
Carnotzet
This Swiss restaurant has an unavoidably cheesy hum, but you soon forget when your personal pile of delicious cheese salad starter arrives. For his main Yann had thinly sliced rare beef with a steaming pot of broth to cook it in – it was simply amazing. My sausage and mash was also very satisfying. Well done, Carnotzet.
Quick
The francophone take on McDonalds, Quick does what it says on the tin. I find myself unable to condemn this place, given its frankness about its offering, and I am certain that our paths will one day cross again.
A Malte
A contentious one for inclusion in the hot list, I personally loved the cosy, candlelit ambience of this place, but it loses marks for food, given an unfortunate preponderance for loading cheese on top of all the meat dishes. In my opinion, definitely worth another chance.
Lotus Bar
Another respectable Thai restaurant/bar, where house red comes by the litre. Bit more expensive than its counterparts around St. Géry.
Le News Café, rue jourdan
This place is nothing special, but it will do if you're after a beer and a quick bite to eat. I was delighted with my Croque Madame (same as the toasted ham and cheese sandwich that is Croque Monsieur, but with a couple of fried eggs slapped on top).
Belgo Belge
As one of our first dining experiences in Brussels, our memories of Belgo Belge are somewhat scant, with the novelty of dining with Stagiaires from across the continent (Spain, Greece, Poland, UK, Netherlands, Germany and France were certainly represented) overshadowing the actual food. Having said this, my order of pain de viande provoked much discussion around the table as to what it would actually be, before I was served with a plate of delicious meatloaf. Mmm.
Hector Chicken
Fine dining it is not, but Hector Chicken takes greasy fried cuisine to new heights. For those in need of a junk food fix, Hector Chicken is head and shoulders above the rest, complete with attractive terrace next to a motorway.
Fanny Thai
The initial glamour of Fanny Thai has diminished to an extent, given that Thai cuisine is something that Brussels actually does rather well. That said, Fanny Thai is good value tasty food, and merited repeat visits.
We only managed one visit to this place, which seems a shame looking back. The 50s diner look is fab, and the food is simple but tasty. Fine dining this is not, but La Cantine de la Ville is still a great place to go for a relaxed meal and a drink.
Bla Bla
Arty interior and warm atmosphere make this place a must for Sunday brunch. Make sure you're ravenously hungry, and be prepared to splash out on the deluxe brunch option, which gives you access to all three buffet tables.
Carnotzet
This Swiss restaurant has an unavoidably cheesy hum, but you soon forget when your personal pile of delicious cheese salad starter arrives. For his main Yann had thinly sliced rare beef with a steaming pot of broth to cook it in – it was simply amazing. My sausage and mash was also very satisfying. Well done, Carnotzet.
Quick
The francophone take on McDonalds, Quick does what it says on the tin. I find myself unable to condemn this place, given its frankness about its offering, and I am certain that our paths will one day cross again.
A Malte
A contentious one for inclusion in the hot list, I personally loved the cosy, candlelit ambience of this place, but it loses marks for food, given an unfortunate preponderance for loading cheese on top of all the meat dishes. In my opinion, definitely worth another chance.
Lotus Bar
Another respectable Thai restaurant/bar, where house red comes by the litre. Bit more expensive than its counterparts around St. Géry.
Le News Café, rue jourdan
This place is nothing special, but it will do if you're after a beer and a quick bite to eat. I was delighted with my Croque Madame (same as the toasted ham and cheese sandwich that is Croque Monsieur, but with a couple of fried eggs slapped on top).
Belgo Belge
As one of our first dining experiences in Brussels, our memories of Belgo Belge are somewhat scant, with the novelty of dining with Stagiaires from across the continent (Spain, Greece, Poland, UK, Netherlands, Germany and France were certainly represented) overshadowing the actual food. Having said this, my order of pain de viande provoked much discussion around the table as to what it would actually be, before I was served with a plate of delicious meatloaf. Mmm.
Hector Chicken
Fine dining it is not, but Hector Chicken takes greasy fried cuisine to new heights. For those in need of a junk food fix, Hector Chicken is head and shoulders above the rest, complete with attractive terrace next to a motorway.
Fanny Thai
The initial glamour of Fanny Thai has diminished to an extent, given that Thai cuisine is something that Brussels actually does rather well. That said, Fanny Thai is good value tasty food, and merited repeat visits.
The best places to eat in Brussels
This is the first in a series of posts in which we will share our immense wisdom regarding all things bruxellois. We start with the best places to eat in the city…
Toscana 21, rue de Rollebeek
The décor may be completely underwhelming, the menus written using sugar paper attached to an artist’s palette, and the mood lighting more hospital than hospitality, but the pasta is f***ing delicious, and cheap to boot. With this restaurant being mere yards from our apartment, we spent many an evening here when we deemed the mince we had in the fridge “too rancid” to eat.
Skievelat
After following a recommendation from a colleague, Skievelat came to dominate our diet in Brussels. Serving a wide range of Belgian favourites (carbonnade, vol au vont, pain de viande, stoemp) Skievelat is great for introducing visitors to the Brussels diet. Add to this the minimal impact on the wallet and the eye-candy employed as serving staff, and you’ll understand why Skievelat became our most-visited restaurant in Brussels
Perroquet, rue Watteau
We adore this place. Close to our front door, amazing art nouveau interior, buzzing atmosphere and an endless selection of pitas. This shouldn't be mistaken for a real restaurant, but it's the perfect place to take your visitors who have arrived on the late Eurostar and want Qwak plus snack. Will be sorely missed.
Soul
A Finnish concept restaurant may not be Jacques Chirac’s cup of tea, but this particular house of gastronomy, unobtrusively situated down a p***-soaked alleyway, serves fantastic food themed around its purported health benefits. Pregnant? You’ll be wanting the menu grossesse, a delicious carb- and fat-fest. High cholesterol? It’s quinoa and duck for you. Best meal out in Brussels.
Kika Kitchen
Fabulous dated 60s décor, shepherd’s pie with jam and loads of lentils make Kika a lesbian favourite.
Claire Fontaine, rue Ernest Allard
The way sandwich shops ought to be, Claire’s is packed floor to ceiling with jars of chutneys, pickles, herbs and other delicious treats, offering freshly made sandwiches on the toughest, but most delicious, bread to be found in Brussels.
Kokob
Great for dining with friends, Kokob serves Ethiopian cuisine (no jokes please) in a warm, friendly and atmospheric environment. Food is curry-based, involves beetroot and egg, and is served on lemon-pancakes, no cutlery provided. If you can survive the embarrassment of having the waitress feed you as part of her demonstration on how to eat Ethiopian-style, you’ll have a fantastic meal out.
Toscana 21, rue de Rollebeek
The décor may be completely underwhelming, the menus written using sugar paper attached to an artist’s palette, and the mood lighting more hospital than hospitality, but the pasta is f***ing delicious, and cheap to boot. With this restaurant being mere yards from our apartment, we spent many an evening here when we deemed the mince we had in the fridge “too rancid” to eat.
Skievelat
After following a recommendation from a colleague, Skievelat came to dominate our diet in Brussels. Serving a wide range of Belgian favourites (carbonnade, vol au vont, pain de viande, stoemp) Skievelat is great for introducing visitors to the Brussels diet. Add to this the minimal impact on the wallet and the eye-candy employed as serving staff, and you’ll understand why Skievelat became our most-visited restaurant in Brussels
Perroquet, rue Watteau
We adore this place. Close to our front door, amazing art nouveau interior, buzzing atmosphere and an endless selection of pitas. This shouldn't be mistaken for a real restaurant, but it's the perfect place to take your visitors who have arrived on the late Eurostar and want Qwak plus snack. Will be sorely missed.
Soul
A Finnish concept restaurant may not be Jacques Chirac’s cup of tea, but this particular house of gastronomy, unobtrusively situated down a p***-soaked alleyway, serves fantastic food themed around its purported health benefits. Pregnant? You’ll be wanting the menu grossesse, a delicious carb- and fat-fest. High cholesterol? It’s quinoa and duck for you. Best meal out in Brussels.
Kika Kitchen
Fabulous dated 60s décor, shepherd’s pie with jam and loads of lentils make Kika a lesbian favourite.
Claire Fontaine, rue Ernest Allard
The way sandwich shops ought to be, Claire’s is packed floor to ceiling with jars of chutneys, pickles, herbs and other delicious treats, offering freshly made sandwiches on the toughest, but most delicious, bread to be found in Brussels.
Kokob
Great for dining with friends, Kokob serves Ethiopian cuisine (no jokes please) in a warm, friendly and atmospheric environment. Food is curry-based, involves beetroot and egg, and is served on lemon-pancakes, no cutlery provided. If you can survive the embarrassment of having the waitress feed you as part of her demonstration on how to eat Ethiopian-style, you’ll have a fantastic meal out.
Farewell, but not from us
Not quite goodbye from us yet, but it is goodbye from another Brussels expat, so I thought I'd link to his piece.
Tuesday, 28 July 2009
Luxembourg
Luxembourg, we had been repeatedly warned, is shit. Everything closes at 5pm. There's nothing to do. There's nothing to see. Avoid it. Luxemboring.
It's a good job Yann and I didn't heed this advice, as our visit to Luxembourg on Saturday was really rather marvellous. Over the millennia, the pathetic river Alzette has carved a huge gorge into the soft local sandstone, across which Luxembourg City is now precariously perched. This makes for some great trudging up riverbank paths and for some simply breathtaking views:
It also seems that Luxembourg was for many years the object of every Western European leader's most profound desires, leading to massive fortification of the city. Lots of the defences are still visible today, but it's the underground network of tunnels that has to be the most impressive part. Here are some shots of the Bock Casemates, now made aUNESCO world heritage site in recognition of their uniquely claustrophobic qualities:
After much walking, we had time for a quick supper at a Lebanese restaurant before catching the 3-hour train back to Brussels.
Our advice: visit Luxembourg.
Our advice: visit Luxembourg. Monday, 27 July 2009
National Day
21st July was Belgian National Day, and as well as getting a well-earned day off work, we were treated to various "goings on" of a distinctly military flavour at the end of our road, on the Rue de la Regence.
Having received four free packets of crisps, two free smoothies and a balloon (helium to be consumed later) and admired the military equipment (and personnel) parading the streets, we decided that, not actually being Belgian, it would be ok for us to go back home where we were able to watch an alsation being winched out of an office block from the comfort of our own balcony. Chouette!
Monday, 20 July 2009
Sunny intervals in Tervuren
The run of visitorless weekends was finally broken this weekend, with the return of la rousse et son homme. Hurray!
On Friday night we headed to Kokob, a lively Ethiopian restaurant along the road from the infamous Mannekin Pis. Food is served up on a communal platter, with crepes replacing cutlery – there’s clearly an art to dining in this way, and it’s not one that we’ve quite mastered yet. Still, the food is to be recommended, and making a terrible mess is all the more fun when you’re doing it with friends.
Saturday saw what meteorologists call ‘sunny intervals’ and so we headed out to the outlying town of Tervuren to have a wander in another of Brussels’ many formal parks. This trip felt long overdue, as Yann’s phone – with its wallpaper that magically changes depending on what country you’re in – had been beckoning us to Tervuren ever since we’d arrived in Belgium. The guidebook bills this place as being happily untouched by tourists, which is certianly the case. Indeed, apart from the attractive park, with its series of man-made lakes, the town itself consists of just a handful of buildings arranged around a not so grand place.
On Friday night we headed to Kokob, a lively Ethiopian restaurant along the road from the infamous Mannekin Pis. Food is served up on a communal platter, with crepes replacing cutlery – there’s clearly an art to dining in this way, and it’s not one that we’ve quite mastered yet. Still, the food is to be recommended, and making a terrible mess is all the more fun when you’re doing it with friends.
Saturday saw what meteorologists call ‘sunny intervals’ and so we headed out to the outlying town of Tervuren to have a wander in another of Brussels’ many formal parks. This trip felt long overdue, as Yann’s phone – with its wallpaper that magically changes depending on what country you’re in – had been beckoning us to Tervuren ever since we’d arrived in Belgium. The guidebook bills this place as being happily untouched by tourists, which is certianly the case. Indeed, apart from the attractive park, with its series of man-made lakes, the town itself consists of just a handful of buildings arranged around a not so grand place.
We rounded Saturday off with a couple of beers at a café off Avenue Louise, before saying goodbye to our guests and finishing the evening with a nice feel-good film.
Villers-la-Ville
The prospect of returning to dreary London in two weeks has spurred us on to see and do some of the few remaining attractions that Brussels has to offer. Fulfilling a drunken promise to ourselves made after a number of glasses of red wine yesterday evening, we braved hangovers and made the day trip to the ruined Cistercian abbey at Villers-la-Ville, about 30km south of Brussels.
Having successfully navigated the train journey, we were not so lucky on arrival at our destination – what was billed by the guidebook as a 15 minute walk to the abbey took me and Tintin nearly an hour, and involved numerous wrong turns and some time spent trespassing on private property.
However, it was worth the wait, and after receiving directions from a kindly Belgian, we arrived at the abbey. The first monastic settlers arrived on the site in 1146, and the abbey grew in size and influence throughout the thirteenth century. Following the French revolution the site was privately sold, and fell into the fabulous set of ruins that remain today. The buildings that remain are all in various states of disrepair, some merely a set of small walls, and others with two storeys still intact. This being Belgium – the land that health and safety forgot – you are more or less free to roam the ruins as you wish, ducking into nooks and crannies such as the old prison cells (complete with en-suite latrine), ignoring danger signs to climb multiple steps into the hills and woods, and fumble about in the darkened rooms of the old lay brothers’ dormitories. Most impressive of all was the church, built to cathedral proportions, missing some of its roof and romantically adorned with ivy. You could easily while away an entire afternoon exploring the site and still miss some of the sights, and is overall one of the best days out we have had since coming to Belgium.
Below is a small selection of photos which should give you an idea.
Having successfully navigated the train journey, we were not so lucky on arrival at our destination – what was billed by the guidebook as a 15 minute walk to the abbey took me and Tintin nearly an hour, and involved numerous wrong turns and some time spent trespassing on private property.
However, it was worth the wait, and after receiving directions from a kindly Belgian, we arrived at the abbey. The first monastic settlers arrived on the site in 1146, and the abbey grew in size and influence throughout the thirteenth century. Following the French revolution the site was privately sold, and fell into the fabulous set of ruins that remain today. The buildings that remain are all in various states of disrepair, some merely a set of small walls, and others with two storeys still intact. This being Belgium – the land that health and safety forgot – you are more or less free to roam the ruins as you wish, ducking into nooks and crannies such as the old prison cells (complete with en-suite latrine), ignoring danger signs to climb multiple steps into the hills and woods, and fumble about in the darkened rooms of the old lay brothers’ dormitories. Most impressive of all was the church, built to cathedral proportions, missing some of its roof and romantically adorned with ivy. You could easily while away an entire afternoon exploring the site and still miss some of the sights, and is overall one of the best days out we have had since coming to Belgium.
Below is a small selection of photos which should give you an idea.
Sunday, 12 July 2009
Fine Dining in Brussels
Whilst I enjoy eating, I cannot claim to be a connoisseur of food. Indeed, I typically prefer a trip to Hector Chicken (the KFC of Belgium) over the prospect of fine-dining.
On Friday I said farewell to my philistinism with a lunch trip to Comme Chez Soi, Brussels’ 3 Michelin-starred restaurant. Yann and I had mooted the idea of a dinner there as a final treat, but decided that €180 each for food was more than we could stomach. Lunch, on the other hand was a snip at €55 for three courses. Sadly, one of those courses being fish, Yann declined the experience, leaving me to chaperone a couple of lovely ladies from work.
Despite feeling faintly silly at dining in such refined surroundings, I certainly enjoyed the gastronomy, which was as follows:
Starter: Aspic de volaille en salade de mizuna et pousses de betterave rouge, coulis tomaté au vinaigre de sureau
Main course: Filet de cabillaud et fritot d'écrevisses à la lavande, méli-mélo de légumes à l'estragon
Dessert: Feuilleté croustillant à la rhubarbe et aux agrumes, gelée à la badiane et crème d'Isigny
For those who don’t speak French, read “posh food”, served in surprisingly generous portions. We washed down our grub with a bottle of sparkling water, and demanded the bill before we could be lured into buying €10 coffees.
Having thus stuffed myself silly, I also had dinner with our Kiwi friends to look forward to in the evening. Besides more good food from the new vegetarian, we also indulged in quite a comprehensive selection of wine, only leaving when one of our hosts fell asleep on his own face. Hence, when we finally emerged from bed on Saturday morning, there could be only one solution: Hector Chicken.
On Friday I said farewell to my philistinism with a lunch trip to Comme Chez Soi, Brussels’ 3 Michelin-starred restaurant. Yann and I had mooted the idea of a dinner there as a final treat, but decided that €180 each for food was more than we could stomach. Lunch, on the other hand was a snip at €55 for three courses. Sadly, one of those courses being fish, Yann declined the experience, leaving me to chaperone a couple of lovely ladies from work.
Despite feeling faintly silly at dining in such refined surroundings, I certainly enjoyed the gastronomy, which was as follows:
Starter: Aspic de volaille en salade de mizuna et pousses de betterave rouge, coulis tomaté au vinaigre de sureau
Main course: Filet de cabillaud et fritot d'écrevisses à la lavande, méli-mélo de légumes à l'estragon
Dessert: Feuilleté croustillant à la rhubarbe et aux agrumes, gelée à la badiane et crème d'Isigny
For those who don’t speak French, read “posh food”, served in surprisingly generous portions. We washed down our grub with a bottle of sparkling water, and demanded the bill before we could be lured into buying €10 coffees.
Having thus stuffed myself silly, I also had dinner with our Kiwi friends to look forward to in the evening. Besides more good food from the new vegetarian, we also indulged in quite a comprehensive selection of wine, only leaving when one of our hosts fell asleep on his own face. Hence, when we finally emerged from bed on Saturday morning, there could be only one solution: Hector Chicken.
Groningen: the Metropolis of the North
As our initial excitement at living in a foreign land has slowly ebbed away, to be replaced by the lethargic numbness that is apathy, this blog has lain dormant, waiting for such a time as our child-like joy at living the European Dream is renewed. Although this has not yet happened, I do feel slightly guilty for abandoning all our faithful blogwatchers, so here is a little update to fill you in on our latest adventures, and prepare you for our return to the UK in a mere two weeks time.
After many weeks of planning and preparation, Tintin and I took advantage of a long weekend to visit some other Eurogay© friends in Groningen, the Netherlands. After five hours, four trains and a mere 30 pages of Allen Carr’s EASYWAY to Stop Smoking Permanently, we arrived. Sadly, on our first night we left our camera in a Thai restaurant and were unable to retrieve it until the following evening, so photos of the town itself are somewhat thin on the ground. But take our word for it that Groningen is a pretty little city, with excellent shopping and a fabulous market selling fresh fruit, veg, meat, fish, cheese and flowers.
A warning: the visitor to Groningen must be careful on the roads, which are dominated by high-speed cyclists with basketfuls of cheese, baguettes and sunflowers. Another Dutch stereotype confirmed was cleanliness and efficiency, no more starkly apparent than during our cross-border train ride where barren wastelands and dilapidated high-rises gave way to neat gardens and pretty window-boxes. Groningen has numerous examples of lovely 1930s architecture, not least our hosts’ fabulous apartment, and some highly agreeable green and open spaces.
We also had the opportunity to brave the hustle and bustle of what is the Groningen gay scene, namely a monthly club night attended by at least 35 hardcore revellers. The distinct lack of atmosphere was, however, partially compensated for by the free ice-lollies, flumps, and the two extremely athletic pole dancers who made up for in flexibility what they lacked in pulchritude.
After many weeks of planning and preparation, Tintin and I took advantage of a long weekend to visit some other Eurogay© friends in Groningen, the Netherlands. After five hours, four trains and a mere 30 pages of Allen Carr’s EASYWAY to Stop Smoking Permanently, we arrived. Sadly, on our first night we left our camera in a Thai restaurant and were unable to retrieve it until the following evening, so photos of the town itself are somewhat thin on the ground. But take our word for it that Groningen is a pretty little city, with excellent shopping and a fabulous market selling fresh fruit, veg, meat, fish, cheese and flowers.
A warning: the visitor to Groningen must be careful on the roads, which are dominated by high-speed cyclists with basketfuls of cheese, baguettes and sunflowers. Another Dutch stereotype confirmed was cleanliness and efficiency, no more starkly apparent than during our cross-border train ride where barren wastelands and dilapidated high-rises gave way to neat gardens and pretty window-boxes. Groningen has numerous examples of lovely 1930s architecture, not least our hosts’ fabulous apartment, and some highly agreeable green and open spaces.
We also had the opportunity to brave the hustle and bustle of what is the Groningen gay scene, namely a monthly club night attended by at least 35 hardcore revellers. The distinct lack of atmosphere was, however, partially compensated for by the free ice-lollies, flumps, and the two extremely athletic pole dancers who made up for in flexibility what they lacked in pulchritude.
Due to the lack of interesting photos, to get a flavour of what Groningen has to offer you will have to make do with this rather uninspiring snap, taken from our hosts' amazing roof terrace:
Here is a photo of Tintin on the "train ride of doom":
And here is a picture of me looking at a fish:
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Restaurant Review, chez nous, Bruxelles
Having friends over in London, we can be reasonably sure that when 11pm comes, they will have a Cinderella-like moment of panic, and quickly leave before the last train/tube turns back into a pumpkin. Not so in Brussels, where the old-fashioned art of walking home is alive and well, meaning that there’s nothing to stop one’s soiree drifting on into the night.
And so it was last night, when we returned the favour of dinner for our new Kiwi friends. Determined not to be outdone by grilled aubergines and buttermilk, we cooked a tasty vegetable biryani. It was certainly a relief that it turned out ok, as it would have been a cruel blow to have spent the better part of Saturday traipsing round the African quarter for all the various ingredients, only then to end up cooking something disgusting. In fact, it’s doubly fortunate that the food was good, as we have enough leftovers to sustain us for at least three weeks. Here's today's portion:
We were also joined for dessert by some friends from work who were having their own rival curry upstairs – I must say that this was a very clever ploy on our part to make the only two sets of people we know here think we’re amazingly popular.
Anyway, the downside of such leisurely evenings as last night is the fact that you always have time for just one more drink. Here’s the damage:
Needless to say, today is most certainly a day of rest.
And so it was last night, when we returned the favour of dinner for our new Kiwi friends. Determined not to be outdone by grilled aubergines and buttermilk, we cooked a tasty vegetable biryani. It was certainly a relief that it turned out ok, as it would have been a cruel blow to have spent the better part of Saturday traipsing round the African quarter for all the various ingredients, only then to end up cooking something disgusting. In fact, it’s doubly fortunate that the food was good, as we have enough leftovers to sustain us for at least three weeks. Here's today's portion:
We were also joined for dessert by some friends from work who were having their own rival curry upstairs – I must say that this was a very clever ploy on our part to make the only two sets of people we know here think we’re amazingly popular.Anyway, the downside of such leisurely evenings as last night is the fact that you always have time for just one more drink. Here’s the damage:
Needless to say, today is most certainly a day of rest.Dancing in the street
If you doubt the coolness of Brussels, then know this: people here literally party in the streets:
This was Friday evening at Place Polaert, which just so happens to be five minutes from our house (and a lot flatter than my wonky picture suggests). As you can see, the youth of Brussels was out in force to mark the latest in the Aperos Urbains – a run of weekly street parties that take place here over the summer months.
Yann and I did some mingling here with my work friends before heading to the park for another open air party organised by some other EC interns. The latter was, I’m afraid to say, not so well attended, and we were eventually driven away by the evening’s live act, a group of Brazilian drummers who made up for in volume what they lacked in rhythm.
Not ones to let our evening be cut short, we headed to Hector Chicken, Brussels’ take on KFC. What better way to end an evening!
This was Friday evening at Place Polaert, which just so happens to be five minutes from our house (and a lot flatter than my wonky picture suggests). As you can see, the youth of Brussels was out in force to mark the latest in the Aperos Urbains – a run of weekly street parties that take place here over the summer months.Yann and I did some mingling here with my work friends before heading to the park for another open air party organised by some other EC interns. The latter was, I’m afraid to say, not so well attended, and we were eventually driven away by the evening’s live act, a group of Brazilian drummers who made up for in volume what they lacked in rhythm.
Not ones to let our evening be cut short, we headed to Hector Chicken, Brussels’ take on KFC. What better way to end an evening!
Saturday, 20 June 2009
More Magritte Madness
Here, for lovers of the absurd, is a picture of me and Yann taken at the opening of the Magritte Museum a couple of weeks ago.
Sunday, 14 June 2009
When the supply of visitors dries up...
Being in Brussels, we have discovered a novel way of measuring our popularity in terms of how long we could sustain a flow of visitors. We managed a little under four months, which is, I must say, better than we might have anticipated.
Now that things have slowed down, we’ve resorted to stealing other people’s guests, joining work friend + friend for drinks at the delightful Perroquet on Friday night and for brunch at Bla Bla this morning. Perroquet is a particular favourite, as it brings together proximity to our flat with a pretty art nouveau interior, a good beer selection and a menu of pittas as long as a giraffe’s neck. Bla Bla felt more like bleurgh bleurgh after staggering out, having spent two hours grazing on their tasty all-you-can-eat brunch buffet. I don’t plan on eating for at least two days.
I am also pleased to report that yesterday we attended our first Brussels dinner party, hosted by some of Yann’s friends from work. Their stylish loft, the meal of grilled aubergine with buttermilk sauce, and the cosmopolitan company (from Lithuania, Italy, New Zealand and Spain) made for an exceptionally bo-ho soiree, the likes of which I can only aspire to host. Naturally the evening finished rather later than it should have when the gin ran dry and we realised that we were the only people still there.
Now that things have slowed down, we’ve resorted to stealing other people’s guests, joining work friend + friend for drinks at the delightful Perroquet on Friday night and for brunch at Bla Bla this morning. Perroquet is a particular favourite, as it brings together proximity to our flat with a pretty art nouveau interior, a good beer selection and a menu of pittas as long as a giraffe’s neck. Bla Bla felt more like bleurgh bleurgh after staggering out, having spent two hours grazing on their tasty all-you-can-eat brunch buffet. I don’t plan on eating for at least two days.
I am also pleased to report that yesterday we attended our first Brussels dinner party, hosted by some of Yann’s friends from work. Their stylish loft, the meal of grilled aubergine with buttermilk sauce, and the cosmopolitan company (from Lithuania, Italy, New Zealand and Spain) made for an exceptionally bo-ho soiree, the likes of which I can only aspire to host. Naturally the evening finished rather later than it should have when the gin ran dry and we realised that we were the only people still there.
Sunday, 31 May 2009
Restaurant review: Cantina Cubana, Brussels
Telling foreign acquaintances that you come from London invariably prompts a spontaneous tirade against the expensiveness of London’s restaurants. This is somewhat ironic, given that Brussels is ludicrously pricey when it comes to eating out (balanced, I suppose, by the fact that even someone of moderate means could happily afford to rent a small chateau in the Belgian capital).
Ignoring the price, the food also tends to be fairly hit and miss – although I think this is the understatement of all understatements when it comes to the place we visited on Saturday, the Cantina Cubana.
We stumbled on the place due to my foolish suggestion that we take the scenic route to our intended goal, the pretty good Kika Kitchen. The Cantina had some tasty looking dishes on offer, and so we decided to take the plunge.
Once seated at our table, the evening followed an arcane ritual, which I think that Magritte and his pals would have described as “radical deconstruction of the dining process”:
Drink menu comes – twenty minutes pass – drink order taken – twenty minutes pass – drinks arrive, incorrect drink sent back – five minutes pass – new drink arrives – twenty minutes pass – food menu arrives – twenty minutes pass – food order taken…
Suffice it to say, we were salivating like a pack of feral mongrels on heat when the food finally came, only to find that the long-awaited meal was really rather unpleasant. The so-called African potatoes – a slurry-like concoction of spud and some sort of oil – were particularly rank. My chicken had been baked for so long that it had become fully desiccated, such that one small morsel was capable of sapping all the saliva from your mouth. The best bit, I have to say, was the garnish – a slice of orange.
Being British, we of course ate without complaint, paid and left. That showed them.
Ignoring the price, the food also tends to be fairly hit and miss – although I think this is the understatement of all understatements when it comes to the place we visited on Saturday, the Cantina Cubana.
We stumbled on the place due to my foolish suggestion that we take the scenic route to our intended goal, the pretty good Kika Kitchen. The Cantina had some tasty looking dishes on offer, and so we decided to take the plunge.Once seated at our table, the evening followed an arcane ritual, which I think that Magritte and his pals would have described as “radical deconstruction of the dining process”:
Drink menu comes – twenty minutes pass – drink order taken – twenty minutes pass – drinks arrive, incorrect drink sent back – five minutes pass – new drink arrives – twenty minutes pass – food menu arrives – twenty minutes pass – food order taken…
Suffice it to say, we were salivating like a pack of feral mongrels on heat when the food finally came, only to find that the long-awaited meal was really rather unpleasant. The so-called African potatoes – a slurry-like concoction of spud and some sort of oil – were particularly rank. My chicken had been baked for so long that it had become fully desiccated, such that one small morsel was capable of sapping all the saliva from your mouth. The best bit, I have to say, was the garnish – a slice of orange.
Being British, we of course ate without complaint, paid and left. That showed them.
Flights of the Surreal
Brussels, it has to be said, does a fantastic line in one-off weekend festivals and street parties. This weekend, which saw a visit from our friend la maîtresse, was the occasion for two such events: the Brussels Jazz Marathon, and a party to celebrate the opening of the Musee Magritte Museum.
Firstly, a bit of music at Sablon:
We listened to the Jazz for as long as can be expected of any normal person – for around three minutes – before heading off to the Magritte party, which included an impressive number of surreal street performance acts as well as free novelty bowler hats for all involved. Here’s a taster:
Ceci n’est pas une photo de la maîtresse et Yann:
The museum itself was worth the wait – pretty good collection, and well arranged. And, most importantly, with free entry for the day!
Firstly, a bit of music at Sablon:
We listened to the Jazz for as long as can be expected of any normal person – for around three minutes – before heading off to the Magritte party, which included an impressive number of surreal street performance acts as well as free novelty bowler hats for all involved. Here’s a taster:Ceci n’est pas une photo de la maîtresse et Yann:
The museum itself was worth the wait – pretty good collection, and well arranged. And, most importantly, with free entry for the day!Saturday, 23 May 2009
We Whent To Ghent
There comes a point in the life of every expat when the supply of local tourist activities is exhausted. Thus, last weekend we were forced to broaden our horizons with a trip to Ghent, accompanied by our visitors from Londres. The walk from the station excepted, the town is rather pretty, without the hordes of tourists that are the scourge of Bruges’ streets.
That said, Ghent didn’t offer that much new, given that Belgian city breaks can be reduced to the following formula:
FlemishCity = GroteMarkt + Churches + River
At least we can say that we’ve now been to Belgium’s four largest cities. In fact, we’ve been to Antwerp twice now, having popped back yesterday for a shopping trip (we'd foolishly visited on a Sunday the last time we went, only to find everything closed). We found that Antwerp’s clothes shops resemble nightclubs more than they do your average Gap – pounding bass and strobe lighting to match. The only downside is that the shop assistants will come and chat to you in Dutch. The solution we found, was to ignore them and rummage busily in the nearest pile of clothes
Pride
Last Saturday was Brussels Gay Pride, with a parade organised to pass through the streets of central Brussels, and several street entertainment events, stalls, and music to celebrate all things homo. Coupled with the arrival of a couple of our gay friends from London, and the advent of the Eurovision Song Contest, this was promising to be a very homosexual weekend indeed.
We watched the parade from several points in Brussels, and although it was reasonably small by London standards, there were gaggles and gaggles* of queers on the streets cheering it on, screaming, dancing and shouting. Amongst these was this chap, of whom we managed to take this cheeky photo while he wasn't looking. It appears we weren't the only ones to be taken aback!
Blogwatchers should consider themselves lucky that we weren't quick enough to get a photo of the man wearing a custom-made leather ensemble, proudly displaying his man-boobs to the people of Brussels. Some people have no shame! Slightly more demurely dressed were the usual selection of drag queens, dishing out lollipops and firing pink confetti out of huge cannons:
For the first time, the parade passed through the streets of Sablon, our neighbourhood, and participants led the charge with a giant rainbow flag, the symbol of gay equality (or just gayness, I'm not quite sure).
For such a small city, Brussels certainly has a thriving gay population. Personally, I blame the European Commission.
We watched the parade from several points in Brussels, and although it was reasonably small by London standards, there were gaggles and gaggles* of queers on the streets cheering it on, screaming, dancing and shouting. Amongst these was this chap, of whom we managed to take this cheeky photo while he wasn't looking. It appears we weren't the only ones to be taken aback!
Blogwatchers should consider themselves lucky that we weren't quick enough to get a photo of the man wearing a custom-made leather ensemble, proudly displaying his man-boobs to the people of Brussels. Some people have no shame! Slightly more demurely dressed were the usual selection of drag queens, dishing out lollipops and firing pink confetti out of huge cannons: For the first time, the parade passed through the streets of Sablon, our neighbourhood, and participants led the charge with a giant rainbow flag, the symbol of gay equality (or just gayness, I'm not quite sure). For such a small city, Brussels certainly has a thriving gay population. Personally, I blame the European Commission.*This prompted a discussion as to what the collective noun for a group of gays would be. We opted for either a pride, or a hysteria, depending on their mood.
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Gig review: Lily Allen
On the Friday night of my parents' visit, we all went down to the Ancienne Belgique to see Ms Lily Allen, live in concert, for one night only in Brussels.
Thanks to Papa Dean for the picture.
The Ancienne Belgique is a fairly small venue, and based on their mailing list, Lily Allen is the only act to have played there that I have actually heard of. Anyway, I'm a pretty big fan of Lily's music, somewhat surprisingly my mother is too, so we thought it would be a great way to start their visit.
On arrival, me and Tintin made a beeline for the comfy cinema seats at the back, on the pretext that my parents probably wouldn't want to stand for the whole concert. Despite this, we had a great view of the stage and, in contrast to that horrible M*****a concert we went to last year, could actually see Lily.
The gig was great. Lily was actually a very good singer live, and had a great stage presence - she looked really comfortable and entertained the crowd. Highlights were F*** You, The Fear, Smile and the closing number, a cover of Britney Spears' Womanizer, which had everyone on their feet. She also had fabulous shoes!
Thanks to Papa Dean for the picture.
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
I almost forgot...
...to post this fabulous picture, of a statue wrapped in a giant scarf, from Iris Day. And why not!
And, while we're at it, here's a nice picture of me and my Mum:
Tuesday, 12 May 2009
La Fête de l'Iris
A visit from my parents last weekend, and Tintin insisted that this time I would have to plan the itinerary. Applying my trusty university essay-writing tactic of waiting until the night before their arrival and panicking, it appeared that this visit wasn't going to run as smoothly as the last. I needn't have worried, however, for the Gods of Brussels had come to my rescue, by organising the Fête de l'Iris to coincide with Maman et Papa's weekend in Brussels. The Fête spans two days and comprises various events, street parties, open days, music, dancing and other frivolity, and is a popular yearly occurrence celebrating all things Bruxellois.
Sunday saw the festivites begin in earnest. Highlights included a picnic at a 1.2km table erected from Gare du Midi to the Grand Place.
Overall, the weekend was very enjoyable. It's difficult to imagine Boris (or, indeed, anything else) organising something quite the same in London.
We kicked off the festivities on Saturday by participating in an organised bike ride, from le parc de Woluwé through la Forêt de Soignes and back again. Bike hire was free, thus ensuring we spent a very enjoyable day out entirely at the expense of the Belgian taxpayer. We rounded off the evening at Finnish concept restaurant Soul, and a rather lovely firework display in the centre of Brussels.
Sunday saw the festivites begin in earnest. Highlights included a picnic at a 1.2km table erected from Gare du Midi to the Grand Place.We continued our enjoyable day with a tour of the Musical Instuments Museum (magic headphones allow the visitor to hear the sound of the instruments simply by standing close to them) and passed this lovely lady on the way past:
Overall, the weekend was very enjoyable. It's difficult to imagine Boris (or, indeed, anything else) organising something quite the same in London.
Sunday, 3 May 2009
Antwerp
Another weekend, another bank holiday, and again unencumbered by guests (we love you all really) we decided to take a trip to Antwerp, Belgium's fashion capital, for a spot of shopping.
Sadly, this being Belgium and it being a bank holiday, none of the shops were actually open to take advantage of the tourist trade. Despite this, we instantly got the impression that Antwerp on a good day is vibrant, bustling, and, indeed, "happening" (a cynic might say "unlike Brussels"), with plenty of bars and restaurants, fashion shops and cafes.
We took in the main sights of the Grote Markt, which was suitably impressive, and the canal, and were excited to watch the labour day parade marching through the streets - lots of oom-pah bands and slogans demanding more taxation for the rich.
True to form, we decided to round off the day with a trip to the zoo. A particular highlight was the lesser mouse deer, the (surprisingly busy) armadillo, and the strange creature pictured below, having a scratch. First blogwatcher to guess its identity correctly will win a small prize (kudos). Answers on a postcard please!
Bruges
The advent of a rare bank holiday weekend with no guests offered us an opportunity to see the sights of Belgium that we haven't managed to catch so far. And so, we decided, what better way to take advantage of this opportunity than to spend a day 
Despite not having seen the film, we are now reasonably well-versed in the intricacies of its plotlines due to the ongoing commentary from various other British/American/Australian tourists that we encountered during the day.
Indeed, Bruges can lay claim to being one of the most "touristy" places we have ever visited. That aside, it's a very pretty medieval town, and a quick detour off the beaten track reveals some beautifuly untouched rouelles, and the meandering paths of the canals. This small selection of photos should give you an idea.
Highlight of the day was a trip up the narrow, winding and very very long staircases of the Belfort, the top of which offered some lovely views of the city.
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