OK, I confess. We can’t travel the way we used to in our
30’s, 40’s, 50’s, even our early 60’s.
We used to be able to go from dawn’s early light until midnight, but now
we’re grateful for a midday rest.
We arrived on the high-speed
train from Amsterdam ready to take on Brussels.
We ended up resting in our hotel room until dinnertime, when we picked
the closest restaurant, a pizza place.
We started the next day at
the crack of noon. I have to admit: part
of the slower pace is that I got the usual crud I get following a cold: asthma, sinus, cough, congestion. (Aren’t you glad you can’t get germs through
a computer!?) I travel with my own
personally stocked pharmacy, and I’ve been taking advantage of it.
Not wanting to miss anything,
I drugged myself, “put my big girl panties on,” and left for an afternoon of
sightseeing.
We bought a “Hop on/Hop off
pass”. Out first stop was the museum
area. I think I could spend a month in
Brussels and not have enough time to see all the museums. We went to the extraordinary Museum of
Musical Instruments. Instead of
headphones that have verbal commentary, the headphones are all recordings of
the musical instruments. As we stopped
in front of each showcase, we were able to hear how the different instruments
sounded. I insisted that I had to have
headphones in English! (JOKE!) Part of
the fun of this museum was watching the children of all ages enjoy the
experience. I didn’t see one “bored”
kid.
The first floor consisted of
musical instruments from all over the world.
Each country had its own distinctive sound. The second floor (my favorite) displayed the
oldest instruments, which were all European.
The final floor had stringed instruments: clavichords, harpsichords, pianos, harps,
cellos. Each item not only had a
beautiful sound, but each one was a work of art. It would be hard to choose my
favorite museum of the trip, but this one would be near the top.
For dinner we craved
hamburgers, and we found great ones at Ellis Hamburger, named after Ellis
Island. One of the national dishes of
Belgium is French Fries, which are sold on street corners. I lovvvvee
French Fries, but knowing that they are both fattening and fried I
refrained from eating them on the ship.
However, I felt it was my duty as an American tourist wanting to
contribute to the good will between the
US and Belgium to eat fries in Brussels.
Plus, how can one eat a hamburger without fries? I’m surprised they let us into the
restaurant because the age range of the other patrons was from about
20-40. Fortunately, we were not asked
for our ID’s. Belgium waffles are also a delicious national dish. Dan and I shared a small one that we
purchased from a street vendor. Best
waffle I’ve ever eaten!
Besides the Hop On/Hop Off
bus, we took the metro all over the city.
The only problem was that the up escalators didn’t work, and the subway
is deep in the bowels of the city. At
least I worked off the French fries.
The next day we popped into
the fine arts museum, which has a roomful of Breugels. These had a more religious context than the
ones I saw at the Reiks Museum. A
painting titled “The Annunciation,” depicted the Madonna and child placed almost unobtrusively in the lower left
hand corner. If I were to live my life
over as an art history major, I think I would specialize in Breugel.
Next we went to a Sunday outdoor flea market,
which was really an antique market with beautiful silver, porcelain, and other interesting
artifacts. The most crowded stall was one where women were trying on and buying
old fur coats! I sighted a book. Printed on the cover was, “Shirley, Shirley,
buy me.” It was an old Haggadah in
French and Hebrew with wine and food stains. Inserted in lovely script handwriting in
French were words like, “Benediction goes here,” and “Serve the meal.” Hundreds of years from now when someone finds
my old Haggadahs, they will also find my handwriting telling what happens when
during the Passover meal. I paid way
too much for the book even after I bargained in French with the owner. Maybe
that was the problem. If you read my
blogs from Lithuania, you’ll know why I have an affinity for old, Jewish books
and artifacts. I recommend the novel, “People
of the Book” for more insight. It is a fascinating
story based on real incidents about the discovery of a medieval book researched
by modern scientific methods using food stains, a piece of a plant, the paper, the drawings etc.
Nearby was the Jewish Museum. At the entrance, the lady told us that inside
was “La Schula,” and did we know what that was.
We said, “Of course, “The Shul,” which is another word for synagogue. The museum was small, but sure enough inside
was a shul! The history of the Jews in
Europe is the same in museum after museum.
Either Jews lived in an area during Roman times or immigrated to it in
the 11th-12 century and again during the Inquisition. Anti-Semitism brought about isolation and/or
mass killings in every country and every age until Napoleon. (Hooray for Napoleon!) The late nineteenth
century brought pograms in Eastern Europe. Then Hitler began killing and
persecuting the Jews again in the 30’s and the majority of Jews in the area
were wiped out during the Holocaust.
Before the war, 10% of Brussels population was Jewish. I left
many gaps but you get the idea. A
popular short version of Jewish history is, “They tried to exterminate us; we
won; let’s eat!” Not so sure we “won”
during WWII, but we weren’t completely annihilated.
The large synagogue is not
open to visitors without prior, and we were told, often difficult arrangements so we just saw
the outside.
On our last full day in
Brussels we took the second route of the Hop On/Hop Off bus and got quite a
different view of the city. It was hard
for me to get a general feel of Brussels perhaps because of its diversity. Twenty
percent of the city is green belt and we saw many beautiful parks with huge
trees, walking paths, monuments, and museums.
Some had artificial lakes with swans and other waterfowl. Other parts
were ugly and industrial, and yet others were very modern representing the
international importance of Brussels. At our hotel there was an EU Conference
on Energy for the Twenty-first Century. There are large shopping streets, windy, old
streets, and small touristy streets--all interspersed with many squares. Le Gran Place was a breathtaking medieval square;
and, of course, I loved Museum Square. We
ate dinner two nights in Saint Catherine’s Square with an imposing church, completely
surrounded by restaurants—mostly seafood.
The most visited tourist
attraction in Brussels is a 2+ feet high statue, “Le Mannekin Pis,” (1618) showing a small boy peeing into a
fountain. He has been stolen and replaced about 7 times. He also has a wardrobe of hundreds of
outfits. Sometimes the water is replaced
with beer and handed out to passersby.
Speaking of “peeing”…… after
drinking a huge bottle of Perrier at dinner, I asked for the toilet. The waiter pointed up the stairs. When I got to the first landing, all I could
see were curtains and more dining rooms.
A sign on the next floor showed a bathroom. I could see a urinal and a toilet in a small
room. I headed for the toilet thinking I
was very open minded and European. In
the middle of my task, I realized I was in the men’s room. I tried to finish as fast as I could. I was hoping I could be done before I heard
any men. Then I thought, “What if
they’re waiting for the cubicle I’m in!”
I planned on staying there the whole night or until they went away;
however, I got out without encountering anyone.
I stopped on my way down on the second floor, peeked behind curtain #2
and there was the ladies room!
Near Le Maniquen Pis, we
visited a small, wonderful museum of 18th century fashion including
a large collection of lace. Even Dan was
enthralled.
If you’ve been reading my
blogs faithfully, you’ll recall I bought a “yad” in an antique store in
Budapest. It is 19th century,
real silver and pricey; I didn’t want to pack it in my suitcases, which always
get lost so it went in my carryon. Right before we checked in at the desk at
the airport, we went through preliminary security.
“Did you pack your own
luggage?”
“Has it been with you the
whole time?”
“Did any body give you
anything to carry?”
“Do you have any pointy
objects that could look like a weapon?”
BINGO
I told her about my yad. She called over her supervisor who wanted to
look at it. I literally had the contents
of my carryon all over the floor because I couldn’t find it. Finally I located it and showed it to her. She said, “Well, it IS pointy. You better put it in your checked luggage,”
which I reluctantly did. Right next to
Delta was El Al. I said, to Dan, “THEY
would have let keep my yad with me!” A yad
is a long, then object with a hand at the end used to keep one’s place while
reading the Torah.
I’m going to write one more
blog before I’m done with my trip, but this is so long, I’d better stop for now
before you fall asleep.
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