First impressions can be a tricky beast to tame and should likewise be cultivated with sincere caution. But when such an imprint happens to be of a positive disposition, as did mine of Brussels, I am inclined, then, to nurture and hopefully promulgate this positive image that the city has so early planted.
As the story goes--
I left the temperate, sun-kissed weather of Florida and arrived on a moderately cold Sunday morning. More shocking than temperate differences, however, was the landscape. Surprised was I to find the streets empty of cars, for the city was celebrating its annual Dimanche Sans Voiture (Car-Free Sunday). The universe orchestrated an excellent plan, as I was picked up from the airport and driven home within minutes before the one-day ban on cars became active.
Nestled between the Cinquantenaire to the east, the city centre to the north, and universities to the south, my home was just a quick tram ride to the day's festivities. Jet-lagged, I was not—and thankfully so, because with winter jacket found (after a few good minutes manipulating my over-stuffed, albeit expertly organized, suitcases), I was able to enjoy the pedestrian/cyclist/roller-blader/segway-user/horse-rider friendly streets.
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| Cyclists litter the entrance leading to Merode station |
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| Cinquantenaire |
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| The latest contraption in son-pinned-unfairly-against-father sunday competitions. |
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To arrive on such a day was significant for me. My wanderings that Sunday made the realization of my stay all the more surreal and fanciful--as illustrated by the festivals, open-air markets, tents of beer, musical performances, and sport competitions (all situated under marvelously rare blue skies).
The city had a pulse--and a lively one, at that. Ultimately, this is the Europe I wish to see at every turn.
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It has now been over week since my arrival and I have compiled a user-friendly bulleted list of observations:
*Brussels has an intricate network of buses, trams, and trains that are relatively easy to navigate. The problem arises when you've just lived a year in a country (Japan) where public transportation actually follows a set time-table. One can arrive at a stop in Brussels and expect a wait time of 0 to never--as I recently experienced this past Wednesday. That tram never did come. And by never, I mean having stood peacefully and eagerly at the bench for 45 minutes.
*Forgive me as I add another (regrettably unflattering) comment about public transportation. But every rider should know that there is an insufficient number of buttons. Yes, buttons--you read correctly. Buttons are essential for exiting the buses and trams, but it requires unimaginable skill to place oneself in a convenient spot to reach them. I suppose you could always risk having to play "telephone" with your fellow commuters, asking each one down the line to tell the other the push the button. Hopefully, your message makes it down in time before the bus/tram passes your stop--or--that your message, "poussez le bouton, s'il vous plaît," has not morphed into something inexplicably odd, such as "le fou sait le futon" (the fool knows the futon) or "poulet est le doux thon" (chicken is the sweet tuna).
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| Two cards in a series entitled, "Les Bonnes Manières." To the left, we see proper etiquette when riding the metro and bus. |
*On a more positive note--compared to my experiences in Japan, there are sidewalks here! And ones large enough to allow several individuals to pass each other with little to no fear of getting one's personal space imposed upon.
*Cultural programs are plenty--and my favorite of the season is "Nocturnes." Different museums grant access until 10pm or midnight each Thursday until mid-December. I found myself rather fortunate to have chosen the Bellvue museum my first week in town. Upon my arrival to the museum doors, I was presented with free entry and a flashlight. The former needs no explanation; the latter--well, let's just say that I would never turn down the opportunity to explore a museum in the dark. Since childhood, I have always wanted to be trapped in a museum over night, free and able to explore exhibits as I please. And though I did not have quite the same liberties as I dreamt before, my inner child was quite satiated.
*And my, have I seen a return to childhood in recent days! In yet another impressively creative approach to museum design, the free BIP exhibition at the Place Royale set my heart ablaze. I stumbled into an unassuming white-washed room and there I found models of buildings and sites famous to Brussels--all plush, light-weight, and eager to be rearranged at my choosing.
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| Imaginative oral history exhibit at BIP. Each umbrella houses a speaker from which to listen. |
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| Another focus on the auditory experience. Each droplet(?) plays various recordings of people, music, sounds, etc. |
That seems sufficient enough for my first week. More photographs later to come.
This sounds like a wonderful adventure!
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