brussels

the famous “mannekin pis” in brussels

after cambridge (and a rather torturous ride on the london tube), i hopped on a train to brussels. it took 2 hours and 20 minutes to get from london’s waterloo station to the gare bruxelles-midi. i’ve always wanted to see brussels. how can i resist a place that boasts the world’s best fries, beer and chocolate?

i’d imagined that brussels would be a charming little town akin to a mini-paris. that i’d be following the scent of warm waffles and hot chocolate into cozy cafes with pictures of tin tin and his dog all around me. well, not quite. most areas that i saw were quite gritty. there were dingy buildings and dirty streets. even the opulent buildings in the main tourist square, “grand place,” looked like they were covered in soot.

i didn’t expect brussels to have so many immigrants. i’d go walking for blocks on end and never see a white person. many of the immigrants are from north and central africa. i was the only asian for kilometers around. i thought i’d get to use my rusty french in brussels but people were more keen on talking to me in japanese, yelling “konichiwa” at me on the street. even the guy who sold me the metro pass said “sayonara” to me as i left.

here’s another “quirk” i discovered about brussels. i searched online for the nearest american express office to cash my traveler’s check and came across the following information:

“Call ahead before visiting, because this is an administrative office only, out in the suburbs, and has limited services for visitors — it does not cash traveler’s checks, for instance.”

so i thought, “um…ok…i’ll just pay the commission fee at a bank to cash my traveler’s check.” but silly me for assuming that banks would be open from 9 am to 5 pm. the ones i saw in brussels take a lunch break from 12 noon – 1:30 pm. which makes me wonder, how do working people do their banking? so i waited until the doors reopened at 1:30, waited behind the long line of north african immigrants who came to pay their bills until finally, it was my turn. i presented the teller with my traveler’s check and she told me, “non.” huh? you don’t cash these here? ok, then where can i cash it? she answered me with a shrug. the belgians may speak french and dutch but i felt like i was back in italy.