So I decided that Katie and I should take a day trip to Brussels. Now, it is a whole ‘nother country and all, but really, it’s not that far away, only 90 minutes. It’s really like going to New Jersey for the day, just hopefully nicer. Using my handy dandy tour guide I figured out how to book the tickets online and arranged to pick up them at the train station. According to the guide you need to use the SCNF website and indicate that you speak English, but are not from the US. If you indicate the US, it switches you to RailEurope, which only works if you haven’t left the US yet. So I entered “Argentina” as my home country and made my reservations.
We got going early in the morning, well in advance of our train, because I don’t like that last minute panic that can ensure if you are lost in a huge European train station with no idea where to pick up the tickets, and the train is pulling out in ten minutes. I really didn’t want that to happen.
We were leaving from Gare du Nord train station which is one of Paris’s largest. We arrived way off in the basement somewhere on the RER which is like a regional commuter train – can’t let those little trains fraternize with the big boy engines like the Eurostar that goes through the Chunnel, and the Thalys which goes internationally. I was supposed to pick up the tickets at something called the SCNF ticket area. We tried looking for that - no deal. We tried following directions to the Grand Lignes, assuming that meant the big boy trains, but ended up outside on the sidewalk. We came back inside and found a small SCNF ticket booth, but that was for Paris tickets only. The lady working there told us in broken English to go upstairs. Believe me, I would if I could find the way! We ended up outside again, trying to get “upstairs” and then finally found a stairway that took us up to the Thalys track, but way outside the main station. We hiked back along the track, and found a Thalys information desk – finally, we’re in the right area. We waited for the agent, but she told us that we were still in the wrong place! “You need the SCNF ticket area,” she said. “I KNOW!!” I thought impatiently, but instead, politely asked her “Ou Est le SCNF ticket booths?” She pointed over her shoulder and we were off again.
Luckily the ticket booths were in sight, only 50 yards or so behind her. We waited in a long line for an agent while disaster scenarios played through my head. “What if I’ve done it wrong? What if the confirmation code doesn’t come up? What if I need proof that I am from Argentina?!” Fortunately, the confirmation code did work, my tickets were printed out, and no seemed to care if I was from Argentina or not. I had a moment of panic when I thought I couldn’t find my credit card, but then meekly found it in my wallet.
Tickets in hand I checked the time, and we were still actually in great shape! The extra time had come in handy and we had a full 40 minutes until train departure, and time for a coffee. Collapsing into a chair at the bistro, I said, “Well, I was able to pull that off huh?” Katie just looked at me. I continued, “You know, booking the tickets, finding the train station, not losing my cool as we tried to find the ticket counter.” She just looked at me more. So I continued on. “I will now take compliments,” I announced. “You may choose from the following: Great job, Mommy! Mommy, you are so awesome! Mommy, you are the most incredible Mommy ever!...” I continued on until both she and I were collapsing in laughter and the tension from the ticket booth ordeal drained away.
I made Katie work on a math worksheet - you can home school anywhere and even a busy Paris train station is a fine place for a lesson on adding positive and negative integers, much to Katie’s disappointment. However, the promise of chocolate later pulled her through the lesson.
The train boarded a few minutes before 9 am, and we stepped happily into first class, due to a nice last minute promotion on the website – take your child to Brussels weekend. Buy a kid ticket and accompany them at reduced rates. I’m not sure why the Belgians want us to bring our children to Brussels, so I think I’ll keep a close eye on Katie while we’re there, but anyway, the first class ticket with the promotion was less than the 2nd class ticket and even included breakfast! Munching on our croissants we surveyed the beautiful French countryside rushing past on our short trip.
We arrived into Brussels at the station on the southern edge of town and needed to transfer to another train to get to central Brussels. You’d think this might be well marked since hundreds of people need to make the transfer daily, but of course not. Wandering around my second large European train station of the morning, all I could think was “You’ve got to be kidding me!” No signs pointing to trains to “Bruxelles Centralle” – look – I can even handle signs in French. I know you speak it here. Toss me a bone. We tried the metro, since a lot of people were heading that way but that was the wrong choice and the ticket sellers pointed us back to the main train station. We thought about the information both, but it had a sign that said “no tourist information”. So we headed to the tourist information booth. Incredibly, it had a sign up that said “No train information.” Apparently, Belgium likes to compartmentalize its information. So a decision needed to be made – did we need tourist information or did we need train information. Weighing our options, I decided that we needed train information so we stood in line at the station information desk. A rather dour older man told me that the train leaving in 3 minutes on track 8 would take me there. “Where do I get tickets,” I rushed, now in a hurry. “Your ticket works – no additional ticket needed,” he growled as we took of flying for Track 8. You’d think they would make this a lot easier and then the dour old man wouldn’t have to give the same information over and over again all day at people in line at his booth.
Arriving finally in Central Brussels, we headed right for the Grand Place, where the flagship chocolate stores are located. Our first destination was Godiva. The four main chocolatiers in Belgium are Godiva, Neuhaus, Leonidas and Galler. There are dozens of other shops, both these four are the big players, each with their own specialty. Godiva of course is well-known worldwide, while Neuhaus is the oldest, in business since 1857. Both Godiva and Neuhus offer handmade candies. Galler specializes in less- sweet much darker chocolates, also handmade, while Leonidas offers machine-made chocolates, but at half the price of the other three.
The stores are regal and stately with the chocolates displayed individually behind glass like jewels at Tiffany’s. The salesladies are stately and regal, and the entire place gives off the air of “If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”
We enter Godiva first, based on familiarity, and also because it was the first one we saw. You buy the candy by the piece and we decided to sample two pieces at each shop to find our favorites. At Godiva we tried a raspberry truffle and a lemon filled egg. Both excellent!! We wandered next door to Neuhaus, still wiping the Godiva chocolate off our mouths. At Neuhaus we decided on an a chocolate coffered toffee with a raspberry cream center, and a small foil cone about 3 cm long filled with piped in chocolate hazelnut cream, called a coronet. Outstanding!!!!
We headed next for Galler, although we were concerned with the “less sweet” nature of their candies. We entered the store and were promptly ignored by the ladies behind the counter. We looked around a little bit and were intrigued by some candies that looked like high end lipsticks, slim and black with brightly colored tips, but since we couldn’t get anyone’s attention, we wandered out again. Leonidas was bustling, and there we picked three candies due to the lower prices. We firs tried a white chocolate with orange filling. I consider white chocolate to be the bastard child of chocolate, and usually avoid it, but Katie enjoys it so we gave it a try – actually not bad. We also had another coronet for comparison with Neuhaus, but it paled in comparison to the handmade chocolate. Finally we tried a jellied sugar pear shaped candy that was actually quite good. Comparing our favorites we found that mine was the Neuhaus coronet and Katie’s was the Neuhaus raspberry toffee, making it our shop winner.
Although it was now noon, after all that candy we decided we should do some walking before lunch. Following our walking tour of the old city we found that the Brussels inhabitants (Brusselians? Brusselers? Brusselites?) in addition to loving chocolate also have a love of bathroom humor. Maybe it’s all that Belgian beer. Grand Place is the central medieval looking square and it is surrounded by large stone buildings topped with statues. According to our tour, there is an old legend surrounding the statues. Looking at the first building you see three statues all in conversation with each other. According to the legend they are discussing who farted. The next building over, the man on horseback exclaims, “It was him!” and points across the square. Turning, you see another statue who cries, “It wasn’t me, it was him,” and points to the other end of the square. Turning yet again, you see a statue with a downcast head, looking guilty and admitting, “It was me.” Add this to their most famous statue, Mannekin Pis, and you have a very vivid insight into the Belgian mind.
Mannekin Pis is two blocks down from the main square and is a 2 foot tall bronze statue of a little boy peeing. Even more oddly, it was built to provide clean water for the area – you collected the water coming out of the statue for your drinking water – how weird is that?? These people are strange! The statue is very famous and much beloved, and is usually dressed in one of his more than 700 outfits. We were hoping to see him dressed up, and being about 2 weeks to Easter, we thought he might be bedecked in Easter finery. However, upon approaching the statue we found him dressed in …….a vampire outfit, just adding to the surreality of the situation. O….K…..
After watching the crowds jockey for position to get their photos with the odd pissing vampire boy, we wandered off in search of lunch. We found our way to La Rue des Bouches, or the street of the mouths. This is a pedestrian only cobblestone street lined with cafes and outdoor seating. The specialty of Brussels after chocolate and bathroom humor is beer and mussels. We picked a restaurant where kids eat free and I could get a steaming bucket of mussels, frites and a beer for only 12 euros. Katie could pick off the kids menu, which provided much different options that at home. No chicken nuggets here. She could have ¼ roasted chicken, a small bucket of mussels, or an omlette. I think my adventurous nephews would love this type of kids menu. Katie played it safer with an omlette and a basket of fresh bread. She said it was delicious. We relaxed sitting in the warm sun on the charming cobblestone street as I worked my way through both the beer, the fries and the mussels. The bottom of the bucket had a delicious briny broth with some sort of greens and some celery and tasted of the sea. I implored Katie to try it telling her, “It tastes like the ocean.” But as a strong swimmer who has tasted the ocean as she tumbles around in the waves, that description less than thrilled her. “Salt water?” she exclaimed, “That doesn’t sound good!” But she did try it, afterwards saying, you know it did taste of the ocean, but was still good.
After lunch we waddled off to the Museum of Musical Instruments. Situated in an old art deco department store, MIM fills four floors with displays of instruments from around the world. You don headphones and as you approach the display case, you hear samples of the instruments in your headphones, playing musical selections from around the world. Unfortunately, as you leave a display case your headphones are filled with earsplitting static. We continued this way though the museum, alternating between beautiful music and headache inducing static. Interesting concept.
Before heading back to Paris, we indulged in one more Belgium specialty – waffles. Specifically, waffles covered in strawberries and then drenched in rich Belgium chocolate. We shove down as much as we can before giving up. “Next we come to Brussels we should split a waffle,” I say to Katie, and stuffed to the gills she nods her agreement.
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