A (Very) Quick Trip Through Two-Woman Town: Brussels

Jessica and I are (were, as of the time I am actually posting this update!) currently on the train from Frankfurt to Munich in Germany, looking out from the train over endless fields and forests. What is required of us, then, is to take a voyage back in time, back… TO THE PAST.

I know that’s not as exciting as going back to the future, but I’m just not as cool as Michael J. Fox.

Anywho, we begin our tale on August 9^th, in a city called “Brussels.”

A calm walk along the canal. 

We arrived in Brussels mid-afternoon, tired and hungry. After a few hours of resting, we decided to venture out into the city to find somewhere to eat. As we walked along the outskirts of Brussels city center, no clue as to where in the world we were, we began wondering…

                        Where are all the women??

I do not lie when I say Jessica and I were the only individuals without penises outside city center.

And, because it appeared as if we were an endangered species – indeed, women are a rare sight in the natural habitat known as Brussels – we were regarded as such, receiving many a stare by the local man population.

Needless to say, our welcome to Brussels was not necessarily a positive, warm and bubbly one. Luckily, we actually found other women further in the city – and many a restaurant too!!

Look!! Women in the city! 

For dinner, we picked a place where we could eat un menu, a collection of courses you can buy at a fixed price. Our particular menu was 25 euro and included an appetizer, plat principal, and dessert.

My entrée, des crevettes aux croquettes (essentially, fried cheese and shrimp balls).

Jessica and her very fishy fish soup.

Le Cabillaud: cod with a cream sauce! 

The most delicious thing in the world, belgian chocolate mousse. 

After chatting for hours and hours, we decided to take a stroll throughout the city, which revealed many beautiful buildings and, luckily, a more equal male-to-female ratio. However, the late hour also revealed the very many creepy bars, nightclubs, and woman-hunters that rest nocturnally throughout the day, and so we uncomfortably walked back home and went to bed in our very safe hostel next to the canal.

                        

Chocolate shops are everywhere in Brussels. 

August 10^th

We arose from our slumber with the goal of finding a cute French café, eating breakfast, and renting bikes from our hostel to tour Brussels. Sounds like a great plan, right??

Well, even great plans can fail. Lord knows ours did!

We began with trying to rent bikes. We gave our lovely hostel man the money and he lead us out to where the bikes were, and we excitedly picked out our own bikes and climbed aboard.

Well, attempted to climb aboard is probably a better way to describe it. You see, Jessica and I are very small people. And small people have to have small bikes, or it just doesn’t work. While I, happily, picked a bike that could fit my small frame, the only ones left were evidently made for giants, because Jessica almost crashed and got ran over by a car due to her lack of ability to reach the pedals. After trying every other bike that did not have a flat tire, of which neither of us could get on top of, we gave up and left the hostel on foot, feeling very small.

Now, apparently the entire cityscape of Brussels partied way too hard the night before, because not a single breakfast place was open anywhere. Anywhere. At 10:30 in the morning. We walked sadly along, and, of course, it started to rain on us. Like two little wretched, lonely, dejected characters in a sad cartoon about failure, we walked in the rain, chasing after some dream café that didn’t exist but in an alternate dimension where people actually eat.

We finally, eventually, happened upon a café that smelled like armpit and looked like a maniacal baby spread its creamed-corn poop all over the walls.

It was a gift from God.

After a couple of omelets and some coffee, we ventured back out to search for some Belgian chocolates, which we enjoyed in the city center. And, of course, the city center – just a touch farther from where we had eaten – was chalk-full of cute French cafés on every street corner. If only we had gone a bit farther, we could have gone to a café that smelled like food instead of armpit!!

 

Our mid-morning dessert, authentic Belgian chocolate. 

 Needless to say, we left Brussels happy to be moving on to the next location, catching a train four hours earlier than the train we were originally planning on taking. Au revoir, Brussels, and thank goodness for Germany!

Alfred and I hanging out and waiting for the train to Germany.