That's right - THE Jean Claude Van Damme.
(Note: From here on out, Jean Claude Van Damme will be referred to as JCVD. It's easier to type, and apparently it's also the title of a documentary on his life. Check the link)
My thoughts drifted often to JCVD as Gwen and I spent a weekend in his hometown. Whether it was haggling over a souvenir and wondering if I would have to deliver a jumping, spinning roundhouse kick to the merchant's face to get the price I wanted(*) OR wondering when I'd have to bust out those sweet splits followed by a quick groin punch to some mugger's 'nads as Gwen and I walked through a sketchy part of town, (**) I knew that the spirit of JCVD traveled with us everywhere we went.
(* Line of choice following said kick, as the merchant lies in a pool of his own teeth: "Negotiation Over.")
(** No line here, but to set the imagery a little more this punch would be one of those no-look punches where, as I was still in the splits - which I would have busted out in a millisecond I might add - I would look away with a primal, slow motion, face-quivering-side-to-side yell as my balled fist, connected to a ridiculously ripped, veiny arm, delivered the goods.)
Sorry, just wanted to go off on how sweet JCVD was there. Does anyone remember his movies? Bloodsport? Time Cop? Double Team? Sudden Death?! I mean there is some real quality crap in there if you know what you're looking for. I love me some JCVD.
The drive to Brussels took roughty 3 to 4 hours and was relatively pleasant and straightforward. Gwen had picked out a Bed and Breakfast which sounded pretty quaint but turned out to be a moldy, small-bedded death room not fit for a jail. OK, that's an exaggeration, but the room wasn't really all that sweet. Apparently most of the rooms in this particular B&B are pretty nice, but since we called late in high tourist season we got stuck with the musty basement room. The bed was a double, and only had ONE blanket, which was about 6 feet by 4 feet and ensured a nightly tug of war the entire first night, though we tried to be civil about it. The room was so bad that by Saturday we had talked ourselves into just getting a hotel room at the Sheraton nearby and eating the cost of the second night at the B&B (which thankfully was quite cheap). Gwendolyn beat herself up about the choice of accommodations but after all the planning she has done over our years of traveling I think she gets a freebie for this one, which wasn't even her fault. (So there Gwendolyn.)
Also the B&B wasn't in the best part of town, being located in the immigrant "Turk" area and made for some sketchy walking the first night, until we knew where we were going. Luckily, again, I had a plethora of go-to JCVD moves at my disposal if things got out of hand. Thankfully, for any would be assailants that is, they didn't.
We also had trouble finding a place to eat Friday night, settling for some sort of generic place called the "Brussels Grill". It was the only thing we could find open, but again this was mostly our lack of knowledge of the town at this point.
Things definitely picked up the rest of the trip after that first night.
The guidebooks will tell you that Belgium is famous for waffles, beer, and chocolate. And they are right on all three accounts. I'm surprise people are not more in love with the Belgians just for these reasons. The beer is some seriously high quality stuff and they take it as seriously as the French take their wine only without the hoisted noses. The chocolate is ridiculous, and even the waffles have a little something extra. You know something? That country is alright. It even got Gwen to drink beer (albeit Cherry Beer, which, though good, is not quite "beer beer") and like it.
Saturday we did some hop on hop off bus tour which got ruined halfway through because of a massive thunderstorm which lasted about an hour. Still, despite the halting pause, it was a nice way to see the city. The coolest part which I wish we could have visited more was the ATOMIUM, a humoungous replica of an iron crystal in atomic form. (Given the storm and the bus, I couldn't really get any good pics, hence the link.)
Other Brussels highlights were the "Grand Place" (simple but effective naming), and several World War II Memorials (there all so much better outside of Germany - I wonder why?) When not on the bus Saturday, Gwen and I tromped around just checking things out. Aside from the brisk thunderstorm, the weather was actually pretty good.
Deciding on this trip to forgo any fine art museums (we've seen a lot of art lately), Saturday afternoon we instead headed to a comic museum. Brussels is actually known as "The Comic City" in some circles, and we did pass multiple comic stores. Problem was everything was in French, so boo that. Also, this museum dealt exclusively in the Belgian Comic Scene, which apparently has a rich and storied past that I know absolutely nothing about. With one exception: The Smurfs. And there was an entire smurf display which was pretty cool (and actually had English descriptions, something the rest of the museum lacked). It was neat, but we didn't end up staying as long as I would have thought at a placed called a Comic Museum.
On Saturday Gwen booked reservations at some super fancy restaurant which turned out to be a great choice. The highlight of this place, other than the amazing food, was the unisex bathrooms which had translucent/clear doors on the stalls which turned opaque only after they were locked! As Gwen and I were both leaving the bathroom and about to leave the restaurant, we spied some lady having "trouble" with this concept - she was seated on a stall reaching out for the lock and missing a couple of times before getting it. Seeing her, sitting there on a toilet seat, in FULL view, was a little awkward...
Sunday, after enjoying a good night's sleep courtesy of our much, much, much better room (and king -size bed), we walked around a bit in the late morning and into lunch, drank another beer or two, bought some beer and chocolate to take home, and then headed out. On the way home we nearly ran out of gas, which caused some, uh, consternation, but we eventually found a gas station in some vineyard town before having to resort to pushing the car.
And that was that. Brussels is a good town, and definitely worth a look if for no other reason than the beer and chocolate.
Pics!
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| Brussels July 2008 |
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