Luxembourg - Brussels

We paid 2 Euro each, and the Luxembourg hostel's shuttle service zipped us to the train station. On the way in I thought that a guy was about to tee-off on the building. Unfortunately, he was only using a 9 iron. After a brief wait, we hopped on a train.

The main thing which caught my eye on the train was the Belgian countryside. I had always imagined Europe as this tree-less mass of overly inhabited land. In the case of Belgium and many others, this is far from the truth. The sheer density of farms and woodlands which I saw blew my mind.

As soon as we arrived in Brussels, it began raining. Rain has never really discouraged me, so I just smiled at Laura as we went outside. We decided to put finding a place to sleep on hold, and instead sample some of the local fare. This was not hard to do because compared to France, Belgium is the king of sweets. (Or Queen, if you speak French - La Belgique.)

The first place we went to was small and inexpensive. While window shopping, an old man and his wife walked out of the same shop. He smiled at me and said, "Jeune homme!" He began talking to me in French while I tried my best to follow. I was simply amazed he had even approached me and with a smile, at that. He told me some Belgian phrase about what to say when something tastes good, which I very regrettably cannot recall. He patted me on the shoulder before leaving while his wife smiled. (Why can't the French be like this?)

Laura and I entered the shop, and noticed a child was running around. His mother, the shop-owner, castigated him for continuing after customers had entered, and sent him to the back before talking to us.

I need to trail off on another educational lesson. Belgian French is a little bit different from the French used in France. French accent difference are not yet easily recognizable for me, as I still have trouble understanding sometimes. Nonetheless, the Belgians sound a bit different. They also speak slower than the people in France. The Belgians also use slightly different numbers than the French:

For 70 - Septante (Soixante Dix)
For 90 - Nonante (Quatre-Vingts Dix)
For 80 - The same, though in certain parts of Switzerland 80 is said Huitante. (Quatre-Vingts)

This makes much more sense. Imagine if British people said Sixty-Ten for 70 or "Eighty-Ten" for 90! It sounds weird, but that is how the French do it. I still cannot understand why 80 is said, quite literally, "Four-Twenties". The Swiss have it right. Anyway, back to our confectioneries...

I asked the lady for her recommendations for something chocolaty. Proud of her creations, she recommended all of them. I finally settled on a particularly sinful-looking éclair with enough cream inside to make a Twinkie look malnourished. Unfortunately, Laura got something with apple in it. ((I, Laura, happen to think my pomme de la pastrie was delicious.)) I decided we could not just stop there.

We went to another little place down the road. My eyes perked- up when I saw the signature color of caramel on top of one of the little tasties. I hopefully inquired, but was let down when I found out it was coffee, instead. I ordered another go-to-hell-for-eating-it éclair, and asked the lady where I could find a place to get on the internet. She was incredibly helpful, and began speaking English. In my haste to devour more Belgian goodies I had overlooked the free internet building next door. (Yes, it is a building with an attendant that lets people get on the internet. It isn't a library just...an internet building. Weird, n'est-ce pas?)

I called the Brussels hostel, and found out I already had a reservation for a single room. This really surprised me because I thought I had just been testing the form while at the Luxembourg hostel. I told them I'd be there by 8, and I thanked both the...free-internet-building lady (I have no idea what her job description is.) and the lady running the dessert shop before heading back out.

Laura and I made our way to the hostel. After many wrong turns and many instances of "Oh that is neat! Let's take a picture even though we are exhausted!", we finally made it into our room. After changing into some dry clothes, we laid around for several hours.

Using the free map given by the hostel, we set out to find something for dinner. The map recommended a little Vietnamese restaurant for many reasons. I would have preferred to have something a bit more traditionally Belgian, but most Belgians don't often eat traditional food. We made it to the restaurant and enjoyed some great food at an inexpensive price. I was tempted to try the frog legs, but I chose something more familiar to be certain I would eat it. We paid, and began walking around again.

We chanced upon a movie theater, and decided to watch Rush Hour 3. It was getting late, so I knew there would not be much else to do. I was hoping there would be French voices dubbed onto the film, but I was met with an even better surprise. Though Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan spoke English, both French AND Dutch subtitles were shown at the bottom for the entire duration of the film. The film took place in Paris, France, so I felt it was fitting. When the movie was finished, we went outside and happened to see a building perform a light show.

While wandering around, we decided to look inside a supermarket. After we had picked out some good Belgian chocolate and marveled at the store's price tag system, it was time to call it a night.

On the way back to the hostel, we stopped at a convenience store. I wanted to grab a Belgian white beer and get Laura something, too. Even in French, the store clerk did not understand my question when I asked if he had the original flavor of Hoola Hoops chips (Laura's favorite). Even after asking him 3 times, he still thought I was just trying to find where the chips were. I finally gave up and left. Belgians have some strange beer. On the ingredients, "spices" are listed, but I have no idea what these spices may be.

After a great night's rest in a bed slightly larger than God's interest in the outcome of professional sports, Laura and I set out once more.

Next stop: The Adamantine Acme of Antwerp