Chapter 65 - In Which The Intrepid Explorer Goes To A Country He Never Thought He Would

It's true. Before coming to Europe, Belgium, along with perhaps Moldova, the Central African Republic and Kiribati, was a country in which I never would've expected myself to set foot. Belgium is a country that is divided into two distinct nations (using the anthropological sense of the word), Flanders and Wallonia. The two are divided by their respective languages - Dutch and French. In total, Belgium has about 11 million people in an area not much bigger than my living room - 7 million in Flanders, 4 million in Wallonia. It is one of the most densely populated countries not only in Europe, but the world, and it lacks a number of things that most countries have in spades - things like, oh, forests, and you know, open space. If there would be one adjective to describe Belgium, it would be 'strange'. Like that dank fog around decommissioned coal plants that sometimes eats people, it has a curious effect on all who enter it - usually though, the effect is not terminal.

I arrived in Belgium from Montpellier on RyanAir. For those of you who don't know it, RyanAir is the premier budget airline of Europe, and has been sued numerous times for basically being a bunch of thieving bastards. While I was not particularly grievously scammed, I was scammed nonetheless. When checking in, one has the option of doing so online or at the airport. Only people who hold and EU passport are allowed to check in online, and they do a terribly poor job of explaining this, and they make you pay five euros for checking you in at the gate. Not too bad, but still. Your ticket is entirely blank - there are no assigned seats, and thus there is no semblance of order when boarding the plane. Literally, everyone swarms the gate when the plane touches down, and we are led onto the tarmac (because the Montpellier airport doesn't have the ability to connect planes to the gate) and up a flight of stairs onto the plane. As soon as the last passenger is seated, the plane makes a near-vertical ascent as quickly as possible without blowing up more than half of the engines. One airborne, the passengers are treated to a modicum of comfort - the seats don't go back, you have to pay for everything you want onboard, etc. etc. Still, we managed to arrive at the gate in Charleroi (voted the ugliest city in Europe in 2007) a half hour early. Dense fog covered, well, the country.

I took the (13 euro) bus to the main train station in Brussels, an hour away from the airport. Brussels is a city of a million or so people in more or less the center of the country, and is not only the capital of Belgium but the unofficial capital of Europe. It has architectural styles dating from the early medieval era to early this year, and often right next to each other. Some people thing Brussels is the ugliest city in Europe (clearly they haven't been to Charleroi, those fools!) but I found it to be one of my favorites. It has a Parisian quality of orderly, grand boulevards, but a US quality of accepting that the height of every building does not have to be capped at 5 or 6 stories. The Brussels metro system is also far more comprehensive than any in France of cities of its size (Brussels is smaller than Lyon, Marseille, Nice, Strasbourg and Bordeaux - and of course Paris) and being a capital city of a country where everyone can come to the capital city for the afternoon, it has an incredibly lively and diverse whatchamacallit. Street life. Oh, another thing, I decided to do all the journey by couchsurfing - in part because I wanted to save money and in part because I wanted (and needed) some idea of what to do in Belgium, and who better to get ideas from than the locals. That said, I had to wait until seven in the evening for my host for the first two nights to be free. So, I and two other girls from Montpellier who were going to be in Brussels for the day decided to hit up the Grand Place (or Grote Markt, as it is called in Dutch) which is hard to describe - and since the digital camera is still proving to be a pain in the ass - I've stolen pictures off the Internet to give you an idea of what I saw.

After that, we went to a bar called La Mort Subite, which is French for "The Sudden Death" and professedly makes the best beer in Belgium (not true - it's all the best!). They also flavor their beer in a double-fermentation process the likes of which I know not how to describe to you, as I myself know them not. It was good. After that, it was getting darker, and I had to eventually head in the direction of where my host was, so I split up and started walking. A note on Belgium - their national pass-time is raining. During the post-season, it is bureaucracy. The country has as many days of rain as Montpellier does of sun. Belgium, in the ancient language of the Celtic tribes that once lived there, even means "Land of Rain and Bureaucracy". The Belgian Celts were visionaries for inventing the first post office, the DMV and lines for tickets to wait in line. As I was making my way across Brussels, it started raining, and luckily I had my 2 euro umbrella with me. Wow, that was an exceedingly boring line. I'm sorry. Let's try and jazz things up.

As the rain FLOODED DOWN AROUND ME and lightning EXPLODED overhead, I ran through the dark streets of Brussels, herds of WILD DOGS, never visible but always audible, only mere feet behind me. Huge, towering monoliths of ancient imperial glory rose up - left, right, center! My path is blocked by the PALACE OF JUSTICE! Where to go? The GLASS ELEVATOR! Up! Up! UP! Now left, now right! And down the AVENUE LOUISE! Where is it? Which street do I turn onto? Neon lights BLARE in my face as a STREETCAR shoots by. People in dark coats huddled under umbrellas pass, each one a potential thug, ready to pull me into some DARK ALLEY and end my pitiful life with a wrench or WORSE! And I still need to find an ATM! But there are only shops! CLOSED shops! Finally, I find one! But THEY WON'T TAKE MY CARD! Oh the torment! And then, in the glowing light, made ethereal by the rain, I see one across the avenue. I dodge traffic - cars zooming by, horns blaring, bottles thrown at me - one swerves, another corrects, they crash, EXPLODE! Suddenly, I find myself the cause of a HUGE PILEUP! Police sirens roar in the distance! As they approach, bullets WHIZZ PAST! They're not aiming to take prisoners - they're aiming to KILL! No mercy for this American! Bush is still President - he must be a WARMONGER! I hide behind the mangled corpse of a a clerk for the Subcommittee for Audio/Visual Presentations on Subcomittees, the police don't see me. Another EXPLOSION! More cars? No! The police are trying to draw me out with GRENADES! I have only one path - Run! Dodge! Run! Dodge! Card in! PIN! Take card! Take money! One lands near the corner and takes out the building supports! The wall in front of me is collapsing! I LEAP! I ROLL! I SURVIVE! The police are caught under the rubble, and I flee the chaos, the tips of my hair singed and the adrenaline pumping!

Yup. Exactly like that. I arrive at my host, Damien's, and he is a nice man, he works as a consultant for the utilities firm Accelera (or something like that) out of Chicago. Given the size and swankiness of his apartment, I'm guessing he is in no dire straights for money. He is from Wallonia, while his roommate Bert is from Flanders, thus English is the only language in which they can communicate effectively. I am starving, and they take me out to get fries! Fries! The staple of the Belgian diet. Served up with mayonnaise or really, whatever sauce you want, they are cheap, delicious and guaranteed to keep you warm in the cold Belgian rain. I also got Boulet, which is deep-fried meatball slices. We three talked about this and that, and what the EU does, and what Belgium is like, etc. We went to a very strange bar that serves fruit-based cocktails, has walls decorated with hundreds of overlapping, tacky paintings of Belgium and Belgians, and plays only old French music, like Edith Piaf or Jacques Brel. Having not drank any water since leaving Montpellier, and supplying myself instead with water-based beveraged that are actually diuretics, I had a throbbing headache throughout the night. Luckily, one we got back and I settled down for the night, I slept peacefully.

Tune in next week (or, tomorrow) when I describe my harrowing adventures in Bruges, Gent, and Brussels Round Two!