After returning to my hotel to change clothes since it was rather warm out I set out to go to the Belgian War Museum which was just on the outskirts of downtown Brussels. I inquired about its general direction and was pointed north west. As I walked I strolled through a huge open air market mainly run by the local Arab merchants. There was everything from fresh meat and produce to clothes and toys. I hailed a cab and 10 euro’s later was there. Little did I know that there was not only a huge park but there were several museums situated here.
I found my way to the war museum which happened to be free. I made my way through the, what seemed like endless cases of Belgian uniforms, swords, guns and such. They even had a tricycle that was owned and rode by king Leopold himself.
6 meter long torpedo!!!
I found my way to the tank room. They had at least a dozen different tanks sitting in an outside area, all different sizes and such. They had some with two cannon even. There was even one tank with a flap open showing off a massive rear differential (if you’re any kind of gear head you know what this is and will appreciate it)
Next I made my way into the airplane hangar and was totally blown away by the collection they had. All sorts of different war planes, from F-14’s to bombers and on. They even had jet turbine engines, radial engines as well as one or two in line plane engines. Once again if you’re a gear head you’ll appreciate this. I’ll let the pictures do the talking.
After the museum, I went out to the park area and lay down and relaxed for a while, contemplating whether to walk all the way back or not. The soft grass mixed with the shade was quite welcoming and a delightful change of scenery from what I had seen so far. I got up a while later and decided it would be good to walk back to the hotel. I started my journey back towards old town. As I walked I noticed that Brussels has a rent-a-bike system. I tried to get one at several locations but each one would either not take my card or was out of order, just my luck. I continued to trek back on foot. I made it back into old town in one piece and decided I should reward myself with food and drink.
And that I did. I stopped at this place called the Drug Opera. Interesting name, I had to give it a shot. I ordered myself a Croque Monsieur aux jambon (grilled cheese with ham) and a tall frosty Hoegaarden. What’s great about Belgium is when you order a beer they give you a small bowl of potato chips (known in Europe as crisps, chips are fries). I ate my sandwich and drank my beer, had another one and decided to move on. I went back to my hotel for a nap and some freshening up.
After much needed napping and showering I headed back into town to do a little drinking. I went back to O’Reiley’s, the Irish pub I was at the day before. I sat at the bar and ordered a Kilkenny lager and was quickly informed by the bartender that a large group of American’s where on the other side of the bar watching hockey, SCORE! I sat down and watching the Red Wings. I personally didn’t care about them but that was the team everyone here wanted to see. They were all Michigan State kids studying abroad. I started talking with a few of them and they were all pretty good people. We all chatted and had some beers as the night continued. I found out the bar was selling half pints of Stella Artois (25cl) for 1.8 euro. 1.8 EURO!!!! THAT’S PRACTICALLY FREE!!!! ($2.30 American, you can’t even get a PBR that cheap anymore) My night just got more interesting. As the beer kept flowing a few drunk Michigan State girls decided it would be a good idea to get up on the bar and dance. The Irish bartended Seamus had no objection to this. So they got up there and rubbed their asses against each other giving the bar a little show.
They finally got down and everyone kept on drinking and socializing. I was informed by one of the guys they were with, Scott, that there was a bar called Delirium with over 2000 kinds of beer and that I needed to check it out. I would put it on my list of things to do tomorrow. The Michigan kids left around 2am as they all had to be at a lecture very early the next morning, I wished them luck with that and before I knew it I was alone in the bar, but not for long. 2 guys who were from Brussels approached me after hearing me talk earlier and we broke into conversation. Thomas and Francois were their names and they seemed like alright guys. They were telling me about all the places they’ve been in America (Boston included) and how much they enjoyed it. Next the focus of conversation went to politics and they asked me my opinion of Barack Obama (or in this case my lack thereof) we waxed political for a bit but I made sure to get off the topic as quick as possible. I don’t like talking politics at home, I’m not gonna do it with some people who aren’t from my country in a different country.
I asked them about the neighborhood I was staying in and they offered to walk me home after the bar let out. I was cool with that, they seemed alright. Hey I would probably do the same for someone in a similar situation. We kept on talking and drinking and eventually I had to go hit the dance floor. I cast the line out but nothing was biting, I guess Belgian girls are similar to Irish girls, oh well. Seamus was nice enough to give me a free beer.
Now here’s where things took a turn for the worst. Thomas started buying Red Bull and Vodka’s, but he’d only buy 2 at a time. One whole one for me, and he split the other with his brother. They were now giving me advice on Belgian girls but unfortunately it still wasn’t working. Now things get really weird, they buy me another drink and tell me they want to see me get laid in Belgium. I’m all for that but they offer to take me to where all the prostitutes set up shop in town. I AM ALL SET. I had to tell them both this at least 10 times until finally they backed off the topic. Sorry, if I’m going to pay for sex it’s going to be through drinks, food, stimulating conversation, some dancing and a cab ride somewhere. Not, “ok here’s 50 euro, bend over.” Then they tell me they’re going to take me somewhere fun as we leave the bar. First its 50km’s away then its only 20. Sorry, but in this case I’d like to call on one of my favorite old school Hannah-Barbara cartoon characters, good old Snagglepuss to handle this one; “ Heavens to Murgatroyd, exit, stage left!” I told them that my plan was to go home that night. They didn’t want to hear that. So I took off down Anspach st. back towards my hotel. They followed yelling and begging me to come with them, I kept telling them to go home. They assured me that they weren’t going to jump me or anything like that, but I had had enough. I took my lighter out of my pocket, put it into my fist and told them to either go home or I would start swinging. Needless to say they gave up half a block later. I walked the rest of the way home, fuming, angry, every Arab I walked by once they saw that look in my eye got out of my way. I went up to my room and did whatever possible to pass out.
Lesson number two; don’t trust sketchy Belgians!
The next day was terrible, I did practically nothing I felt like such garbage. I was hungover and was sensing something else was taking over as well. I went to town for breakfast, had an omelet and about 2 glasses of tomato juice which did not help. I returned to my room and slept a while, that didn’t help and neither did dinner that night. I felt extremely lethargic and tired all day long. Then as night fell, the fever came on along with trips to the bathroom every 20 minutes or so. The fever finally broke around 5am but then I was hit with a case of the chills like never before, but the bathroom trips stayed the same, every 20 minutes to an hour if I was lucky enough to catch some quick shut eye. Yup, something I ate had made me sick. My only thought truly was a loud, shout it from a rooftop FUCK BRUSSELS!!!!
Not only did this ruin Brussels for me but it ruined the majority of Madrid for me as well which you’ll read about soon.
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