Saturday, April 18, 2009
Brussels-London

I had a really harrowing last night at the youth hostel in Brussels as the place was taken over by a pre-teen French group of school children who created such a racket you’d think the house was on fire. Despite my attempts to quieten them down, they resisted and, having left my ear-plugs at home, I stayed awake half the night. What’s worse, one of my suitemates came in at 1 am and left the room at 6am–disturbing me at every juncture and making me feel quite harrassed indeed.

I ate well at breakfast and checked out, left my bags in the storage unit and went out in search of parts of the city that I hadn’t covered on my first day. In fact, I headed straight for the grand Palais de Justice, a massive Neo-Classical building with an impressive dome that occupies several city blocks and is visible from most of the city. Much of it was behind scaffolding, however, which made the taking of pictures impossible.

On I pressed down Rue du Regence towards the Musee des Beaux-Arts which opened at 10 am, stopping en route to visit the Church of Notre-Dame au Sablon, a magnificent piece of architecture with a white Gothic exterior but a rather plain interior. The gardens right outside called the Place du Petit Sablon were superb, however. Though rather small, they are beautifully manicured with formal severity in the curving boxwood edgings in whose midst hundreds of tulips were about to burst into bloom. The most striking feature about it were the dozens of sculpted figures that march around the gates, each one representing a different medieval guild. There is a great sculptural group in the center that is accentuated by a flowing fountain and the whole confection is set right below the Palais d’Egmont which is not open to the public but whose solid quadrangular building are admirable indeed.

The Musee des Beaux-Arts:
A few mintues before 10 am, I was at the entrance of the Museum of Fine Arts which stands adjacent to another one of Brussel’s more impressive buildings–its Royal Palace. Again, tours are available only during the summer, but the Neo-Classical exterior set in a cobbled square and emphasized by a statue are all so noteworthy as to make a very fulfilling walk indeed.

My main aim, however, was to tour the major works of Flemish art to be found in the museum which actually combines two separate collections: Ancient Art and Modern Art. Armed with an audio guide, I began my discovery of this museum and was delighted by its fine collection. Though the paintings I loved are too numerous to note, I especially enjoyed seeing so many works by Rogier van der Weyden who is one of my favorite painters of all time–ever after I saw his Deposition in the Prado in Madrid, I have been a die hard fan. The Brussels’ museum contains many significant works of his, some small, others larger in scale and conception.

Of course, one cannot leave Brussels without feasting upon the works of art of the Breugels–the Elder and the Younger, father and son, who produced so many unforgettable scenes from Belgian rural life in a style that is truly distinctive. It is to see these works alone that it is worth making a trip across the Channel to Brussels; but pride of place in the collection goes to Jacques-Louis David’s The Death of Marat which occupies a wall all its own and draws the most curious visitors. An extraordinarily realistic canvas, this scene captures the moments soon after the death of the Marquis de Sade (from whom we obtain the word ‘sadism’ by the way), who is said to have masterminded the guillotine as a method of killing France’s aristocracy during the Revolution. He was murdered in revenge in his bath by a woman whose husband had been killed leaving her to look after their five children. Finding some pretext to enter Marat’s home, she stabbed him while he was in his bathtub where he did a great deal of official work as he suffered from a condition called plurisy which was relieved by hydrotherapy. David’s work is so powerful that he draws the viewer right into the scene and forces him to imagine the horror of Marat’s end. His arm hangs over the bath tub still holding on to a note that he was in the process of writing. Simon Schama in his History of Art series has covered this painting in detail and I was thrilled to have been able to see it in one of the least-visited museums of Europe.

In the Modern section, which you reach by diving deep into the bowels of the earth, are a number of interesting paintings by the Pre-Raphaelites such as Edward Coley Burne-Jones and his imitators. The collection is known for the works of Belgian modernist Rene Magritte, but most of them were off the walls as they are to be installed into a new museum that is under construction to exclusively feature his work. Still, I enjoyed seeing some of the work of the Belgian Symbolists such as Rik Wouters before I made my way back to the surface.

A Typically Belgian Lunch:
I next went out in search of the meal I had promised myself before leaving Belgium–moules-frites. En route, I passed by the Old England department store with its interesting Art Nouveau facade and arrived at the Place des Herbes where I expertly found my way to the Rue des Bouchers and to Leon’s which is reputed to serve the best mussels in the city. Though more pricey than the rest, Leon de Bruxselles has established a name and a faithful clientele and I decided to partake of his bounty. Ordering the “traditionelle”, i. e. a large bowl of moules (mussels) made with butter, celery, parsley and white wine and served with bread for dunking into the jucies and a bowl of fries with a blonde Belgian beer, I had a truly memorable meal and was glad that I bravely entered the restaurant and ate alone-something I don’t usually do when I am traveling solo.

Lunch done, I had just enough time to wander at will through the Grande Place one last time. It was taken over by tourists. Indeed, the sun was shining warmly down upon the city after two freezing days and the passers-by had taken to the streets with delight. I bought myself some bars of Belgian chocolate and returned to the youth hostel to pick up my bag and begin my return journey home.

Back on the Chunnel Train:
I arrived at the train station after a 20 minute walk, went through check in, security and immigration procedures before boarding my 6.00 pm train back to London. It was far more crowded than the one I had taken into Brussels, but the jouney was very comfortabe eindeed and after my big meal, I felt a trifle sleepy and very tired. This time, it was obvious when we entered the Tunnel as it turned dark suddenly and we emerged into the sunlight a good half hour later. Soon the train was eating up the miles in Kent, past the Medway once again and arriving at St. Pancras where I caught a bus and was home within a half hour.

I rang the doorbell of my neighbors Tim and Barbara to give them some Belgian chocolate when they invited me to join them for dinner at Cafe Pasta right down our road. I was very grateful for the invitation though I wanted something light to eat and after I had showered, we strolled downstairs. Over a very delicious pizza and beer, I caught up with them and then we were home again. I unpacked and downloaded my pictures and after doing a batch of laundry, I went straight off to bed at the end of what had been a very interesting if rather tiring trip for me.