forgive me, brussels

The capital of the European Union, built on top of a river so vile-smelling that they paved it over, and home to a tiny statue that perpetually urinates. This is the dischordant mess that is Brussels. The locals 'take pride' in the city's ugliness. I would hazard a guess that it's the sort of pride one takes in unfortunate adversity. Like the time I fell off my bike and tore up all the skin on my legs. For a bit I felt like an idiot, but soon I channeled my suffering into a pride that I'd now call 'Brussellian'.

I will be honest with you, I wasn't that impressed by Brussels. No matter how dapper the weeing statue looked in the tiny clothes the locals dress him in, I couldn't really find it in my heart to admire the place. There was lots of nice ornate...stuff...in the main square, but honestly I was more impressed by the enormous Tintin comic panel that was on display there, probably bigger than a couple of tennis courts. The city had none of the charm of a smaller town, nor did it impress as other large cities had. It was not particularly old, nor was it really very modern. Apologies to any patriotic residents of the Belgian capital. All I can say is... hey, you can always go to Bruges.

My thinly veiled animosity towards Brussels may have something to do with the fact that it claimed a number of my belongings, including a power adapter and a very nifty travel clothesline. Leaving hotel rooms in a hurry is never a good idea. The fact that James also inadvertently abandoned his adapter in the very same room meant that at our next stop, we'd be without the electronic luxury we'd come to take for granted. We were running on dwindling batteries.

I shouldn't be so harsh on this city, after all we only spent two nights there, and a vast amount of time was spent not on sightseeing or appreciating the city, but on lugging backpacks between accommodation, an activity which James will tell you makes me exceptionally prone to bouts of crankiness. Though I will tell you, completely objectively, if you ever find yourself in Brussels, in a park looking up an extraordinary vista towards a church, don't go any closer. It won't bite or anything, but unless you relish disappointment, you'll admire this one from a distance.

So again, apologies to the good people of Brussels. To the rest of you, I'll confide that really, I wish I'd stayed in Bruges.