An Excess of Wanderlust: Belgium is Stupid

Belgium is stupid. My cousin, Bridget said that to me the day I arrived in Brussels and it soon became very clear what she meant. The country is cute, quaint, and incredibly Belgian. That’s really the only way to describe it. Visiting Brussels, Bruges, and Antwerp was kind of like visiting cities that were very confused about which era they were in, which continent they were on, and who comprised their population. Brussels, being home of the EU, is kind of like the States in that it’s a melting pot of different cultures and ideas. You would think this would make for a very unique and interesting city, when really it kind of seems more like a Jackson Pollock of random shit. The city center and historic Brussels are very beautiful and stereotypically “European” (cathedrals, impressive architecture, etc.) and then you walk a bit further and the identity crisis becomes apparent. I soon realized that even “traditional Belgian food” doesn’t really exist and is basically just beer, pommes frites (French fries), chocolate, and waffles and apparently most people don’t consider this adequate sustenance for every meal (although I wholeheartedly disagree, but that’s just me). This being the case, it seems like the streets are lined with Italian, Chinese, and Middle Eastern restaurants. They almost seem to go in a perfect pattern. Pizza. Rice. Kebap (as they say). Pasta. Stir Fry. Pita. Throw some bars and stores in there and you’ve made your very own Brussels. While it wasn’t the most breathtaking place I’ve ever been (I’ll also concede that I was there in February and it was roughly -832 degrees), I definitely enjoyed my time in Belgium. For one thing, there is always, and I mean always, someone playing music (most likely the accordion) while you’re riding the metro, so metro rides kind of transport you from the bleakness of Brussels in February to the canals of Venice (or something like that). The people are incredibly nice and helpful and everyone speaks English (and probably French, Danish and another language, too). And they do make a great beer.

On the subject of beer, Saturday night Bridget and I decided to go to a bar called Delirium, famous for its extensive beer list of over 2,000 beers. The plan was to try a few new kinds and then call it a night. However, while I was enjoying a Leroy Christmas (one of the bars own brews) and Bridget was trying to stomach something called a Pink Killer (aptly named because the beer is pink and it is horribly fruity) we made friends with a bunch of Americans stationed in Germany and they somehow convinced me (like it was hard…) that we should all go next door to the Absinthe bar. Let me first say: Absinthe is not now, nor has it ever been, hallucinogenic. I researched it and basically it’s either an old wives tale or the people who saw things were drinking contaminated drinks, so this isn’t that kind of story. Let me now say: just because it won’t make you see things, doesn’t mean it won’t get you absolutely shitfaced. Somehow this second realization only came to me on Sunday morning. Even though I watched the bartender light my shots (yes, taking two seemed like a good idea) on FIRE it still didn’t hit me on Saturday night that I was about to be taking shots of something that was roughly 70% alcohol. I just knew I was safe from hallucinations. That was my biggest concern. So two shots and another beer or two later, and I’m basically best friends with everyone in Belgium and it’s definitely my bedtime. Lucky for me, Bridget opted out of the Absinthe and could guide my drunken ass to a taxi stand and back to her apartment. It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized I had left my camera at the bar. Even luckier for me, a bartender had picked it up and I was able to get it back on Monday. And thus was my failed attempt at a crazy European Absinthe adventure. But basically what I learned from the ordeal was that 1. Absinthe won’t make you see things, but it will in fact make things much harder to see 2. Just because something is green, shiny, and can be consumed while flaming through a straw, does not mean that it should be, and 3. I should be required to tether all of my personal belongings to myself. Ah, my first taste of Absinthe. I overdid it a bit and therefore things were rather uneventful. Had I skipped the second shot, who knows where the night could have gone. Alas, maybe it’s for the best. Belgium is stupid anyway.

The rest of my stay in Belgium was pretty uneventful. I made it to Bruges on Thursday and although I don't completely agree with Colin Ferrell that "Bruges is a shithole", it's definitely not the epitome of a bustling city. I really liked the quiet, ancient cobblestone streets and the canals that ran through the city. I could tell Bruges had no interest in winning me over, however, because the 3 things I most badly wanted to do- climb to the top of the central tower, go to the Belgian National Fry Museum, and visit a Picasso exhibit- were all closed. So I was left with a relatively dead ancient town to explore. The afternoon was nice, but it could have been made much better with some abstract art, a stunning view, and a complete breakdown of the history of French fries. Ah, well. Reason #384 why Belgium is stupid.

By the time I left Belgium on Tuesday I was ready to move on to something new. Paris was calling my name and I knew things would be much more eventful here then they had been there. But the adventures of the last 6 nights are for another time. À bientôt!