At this point, the heavens opened, and we were forced to seek refuge. The choice that presented itself was between a kebab shop and a smokey cafe. Somewhat surprisingly, we chose the latter. After eating, we did some serious trudging in the rain back to Horta. Not much to look at from the outside, but the Art Nouveau interior was absolutely spectacular, and definitely worth a visit. 
Brussels lies within the Dutch-speaking part of Belgium, but is, for official purposes, bi-lingual: all advertisements, written notices and street signs are in French and Dutch. That said, French is by far the most widely used language in the city, and it's rare to hear Dutch spoken, except when you're pretending you didn't understand the French-speaking shop assistant when she said, 'the shop is closing and you have to leave'. Even in that case she tried English before resorting to Dutch. When you've been told in three different languages to get out, then it's probably wise not to push your luck. On Wednesday, however, I was approached by a lady at a zebra crossing who asked me something in Dutch. My somewhat paradoxical response was: 'Ik spreek geen nederlands'. Fortunately, being told in one language was enough for her and she headed on her way.
I bet you can't wait for us to throw a Belgian-themed dinner party when we get home...
Apologies for the overload of blog entries - we have had an eventful day of sightseeing! My last post of the day concerns the very reason we left the house this morning: to go to see the Atomium, another collossal Brussels structure, built in 1958 for the World Fair. It's surprisingly cool and well worth going to see. The area is also home to a rather good kebab shop called Titi's, where we stopped for our lunch. 
From the outside it is impressive enough, a collossal art deco construction (indeed, wikipedia lists it as the largest art deco building in the world) that bears more than a passing resemblance to our beloved Cambridge University Library, but it was only on entering the Basilica that we realised quite how awesome it was. The pictures I have included unfortunately do not do it justice - both in terms of the scale of the place, and in terms of the rather spooky atmosphere (aided by dark corners and crannies and creepy tannoy music) - but will hopefully give you an idea of the general style of the interior. Probably the most spectacular sight we have seen since coming to Brussels.
Alas, nothing in life is perfect. It was only after paying our €10 each to go up to the top of the Basilica (which supposedly has some of the best views in Brussels) that we realised it was closed, and we had actually paid the entrance fee for the orchid show that was being held on the upper floors of the church:
This morning we walked through the Marolles, one-time working-class neighbour turned ghetto chic quarter. As you wander the narrow streets, you come across a series of haphazardly placed murals, one of which bore an uncanny resemblence to my nan. 
Thursday evening saw a visit to Skievelat, a local resto described by one of Yann's colleagues as "super cool". The restaurant offers tasty, unpretentious food, served by a gang of rather good-looking guys, with a trendy atmosphere to match. We also discovered the joys of roast petit poulet served with apple sauce. Mmmmmmm.
No, I'm not that short - the above photo merely illustrates one of the more intruiging design features of our flat, i.e. a giant door that opens up half the wall between the living room and the bedroom. We haven't quite figured out how this door could be used, other than as inspiration for blog entries.
One of the chqllenges of ,oving to q nez country is finding thqt none of the keys qre zhere they should be on the keyboqrd: This cqn cquse no end of proble,s, especiqlly if you touch type:I was initially pleased that the Belgian version of facebook doesn't have adverts tailored to my 'lifestyle', e.g. an advert featuring a mostly naked man, encouraging me to partake in a gay ship cruise. Then I spotted the following ad for a 'giant pink pouf at factory price'. Is this someone's idea of a Joke?
Now that the risk of psychotic former associates tracking us down and demanding vast sums of money has somewhat dimished, I thought it safe to post a picture of the view from the balcony of our new appartment, in the prestigious Sablon district of Brussels. Although you can't quite see it in the evening light, the building to the right of the picture is particularly striking, with its stained glass balcony. I haven't yet been able to discover whether the cables connecting our building with the one across the street are live electric wires or simply washing lines, but for now I am keeping my distance just in case.
The keen-eyed amongst you will already have spotted that the buildings shown in the picture above are not, as might readily be assumed, made of Lego, but of genuine bricks and mortar (the pink building gives it away - no such thing as pink lego bricks). This ensemble can be found on the main square of Mechelen, a small town located 30 minutes from Brussels by train, which was the destination for today's very enjoyable excursion. Yann ordered Croque Monsieur for lunch, thereby breaking his pledge not to eat ham or cheese today; he did, however, have the quite reasonable excuse of having just been traumatised by a visit to the town's Jewish Deportation Museum, so let's not judge him too harshly. We rounded off the visit with a relaxed wander round the Cathedral, which appears to be on the verge of crumbling into dust; the lego re-construction is due for completion in 2010.
Et voilà - the work of art that outraged the euro-establishment! The installation is impressively large, spanning three floors of the European Council building at Schuman. You can see in the top right-hand corner the one small concession to political correctness: a modest black hanging now covers Bulgaria, which had been portrayed as a series of squat toilets. This is one of the cultural references that I don't quite understand, others being the rendering of Portugal as a meat counter and Ireland as a set of bag pipes. Nothing is, however, more apt than the UK's conspicuous absence! Beats the Mannekin Pis any day...
"Hang on a minute!" I hear you cry, "I can see a charming statue in that picture! This park's not as bad as all that!".
Let's take a closer look...
"Well, yes, I admit it's not the prettiest statue I have ever seen," you might say, "but there is a lovely pool in the Parc de Bruxelles, which can be very refreshing on a hot summer's day".
Here is a picture of the pool in question:
"Ah, yes, I see your point. Carry on".
Well, I'm sure the UK building is much more practical. But I can't help wondering that perhaps we should respect our bureaucrats a bit more, like our Belgian friends.