Today we did more wandering around to see more of the city and by the end of the day had probably covered all of Brussels areas as described by the guidebook.
First off, by almost falling out of bed, we landed into the arms of the European Parliament (our hotel being right next door, we could see a debating chamber from our bedroom) and walked around an interesting set of buildings named after historical European political figures who were instrumental in the formation of the community.
Perhaps it's being British and therefore used to heightened security but the lack of a visible police presence raised a few questions in my head. Is the EU too big to pick a fight with? Is it the southern European more relaxed attitude affecting their more uptight northern European chums? Is there some sort of invisible force field there letting the goodies through but keeping the baddies out?
So what else today? Well a few clothes shops that appealed to n's inimitable style. Interesting and refreshingly the staff in the shops looked neither like stick mimicking waifs or disinterested yoofs filling in time before their next text session.
We tried to find an open air art exhibit a large wooden structure only to deduce as we stood surveying a sand coloured space that looked like an Arabian car park that the structure had been on this spot but had been removed. Perhaps with winter coming they needed the fire wood?
More stomping brought us to a shop that looked quite out of place in today's high tech world of packaged and prepared products. It was a shop that prepared chemicals - paints, poisons, lacquers and dyes -the reason we where there, a bit of a buswomans holiday?
Large jars of powdered dye lay on shelving in the window reminding me of the spice markets of the middle east. Such was the pallette of colours on show.
With the day drawing we collected the bags from the hotel and headed hungrily to the train station for our return Eurostar to London. I say hungrily as yet again our plans for dinner were thwarted. The first night it was a lack of knowledge of what was available before stumbling on a street with restaurants of interest include the tart shop maker of the tarte citron. Last night it was Sunday with everything of interest closed. Finally tonight we wanted fed too early and all our culinary hopes were still to open! We had to be satisfied by a bowl of pasta at the station. It filled a hole!
Travelling home now we can reflect on an excellent and relaxing trip a worthy hook to hang our wedding anniversary on.
-- Post From My iPhone