We were up early to walk the 20 minutes to the train station and catch the 7.50am train to Brussels. It was still dark, about 7 degrees, and thankfully not raining. We knew it was going to be a very long day. John had sourced another self-guided walk to follow on his phone and we also wanted to spend a lot of time at the Royal Museums of Fine Art, plus an Art Nouveau architect's own house.
As soon as we arrived at 8.30am we set off on the walk. The forecast was for rain to start falling around 11am, and we aimed to be finished by then. There was a great deal to see, not the least of which was the main square of Brussels (the Grand Place). It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and is the geographic and historic heart of Brussels. It had its beginning in the 12th century and contains a large number of guild houses, the City Hall and Maison du Roi (King's House). In 1695 the French army bombarded Brussels and destroyed most of the buildings but they were rapidly rebuilt in a faithful reflection of what they had been. The authorities did not want to rebuild in a more modern style, hence it remains a very important collection of buildings. They are indeed spectacular.
We were fortunate to arrive at the square just as the morning sun was starting to shine on some of the guild houses, which gave a beautiful light to view them in. The centre of the square was occupied by a crane and workmen in the process of erecting a very large Christmas tree. It took quite a while to simply stand and absorb the magnificence of the square. I was loath to leave but we had to get on with our walk. Off we went, exploring the historic core of the city, discovering the Treasury and various other impressively large structures, peeped into the interior of some very old pubs, gazed at glorious shop window displays and walked beside remnants of the old city wall.
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| Row of Guild Houses in the Grand-Place |
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| City Hall |
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| The Christmas tree is getting set to take centre stage |
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| King's House |
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| Chocolate Shop |
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| Incredibly narrow buildings constructed against the side of the church |
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| Street art |
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| Old City Wall |
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| Buildings in the historic core |
We actually completed our walk by 10.30am, much to our surprise, so popped into a cafe for a quick coffee and hot chocolate before buying a combined ticket for three museums. The Royal Museums of Fine Arts consist of six museums, of which we visited three. We kicked off with the Magritte Museum, dedicated to Belgium surrealist artist Rene Magritte. Next it was the Fin-de-Siecle Museum, exhibiting a variety of Art Nouveau paintings, sculptures, and furniture. Immediately adjacent was the Old Masters Museum, which housed works by the likes of Rubens, Bosch and Van Dyck.
We spent over two hours in the Old Masters Museum alone. John was particularly taken by the roomful of Bruegels, which he has always had a special love for. An associated display included screen projections giving insights into individual components in many of his paintings. It really was an intriguing and we learned a great deal. After pacing through room after room displaying the works of famous artists we were getting a little hungry.
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| Surrealist painting |
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| Art Nouveau furniture |
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| Breugel (the elder) |
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| John studying the detail within a Breugel |
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| Recharge time |
By 3pm we were definitely flagging. We had booked a 4.30pm tour of the house designed by the well-known Art Nouveau architect Victor Horta. We caught a bus to the house and hoped to bring our tour forward to 3.30pm because it showed online that there were plenty of spots still available. Unfortunately the woman on the door wouldn't entertain the idea so we stepped back into the rain, found the nearest pub and decided it was high time we had a beer and tried some famous Belgium frites. We managed to fill in the spare time quite well until it was time to retrace our steps to Horta's house.
The visit was well worth it. The 'tour' turned out to be self-guided, using a pamphlet and printed explanations to explain the details of each room. Horta had designed many of the items of furniture, as well as the house itself. He was a master at utilising light shafts to provide light to all five stories of the house including the basement kitchen and servants rooms in the attic.
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| Horta's House |
When we emerged outside at 5.15pm it was dark and raining lightly. We jumped on a tram back into the centre of Brussels and walked the last 20 minutes back to the train station. The train was surprisingly empty given this was probably rush hour. The train from Ghent to Brussels early this morning was packed. It is absolutely astounding how many bicycles are parked up everywhere. There are literally thousands of them at the train stations. Most appear to stay there all night. We now guess that commuters ride their cycles to the train station, board the train, then collect another cycle at the other end and cycle to work. Their are large zones given over to cycle parking within the centre of town, and it pays to be wary when attempting to cross the road because there is a profusion of cyclists, trams, buses and cars. Brussels is far more city-like and hectic than Ghent. Our favourite place so far has been Bruges, largely because of its small scale.
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| A large second-hand store |
During our explorations we have kept an eye out for second-hand shops. We love having a poke around, looking particularly for small glassware to add to our little collection at home in Nelson. Unfortunately many of the shops we've come across have been closed. The photo above shows a huge one which was a collective of 20 dealers. We had no luck but it was fun looking anyway. John and I both remember spying a gorgeous small cloisonné vase in a second-hand shop in Antwerp in 1982. We were on our OE and had no money. There was no way we could afford the $100 price. That was a few days' food and board for us. We've regretted it ever since and said we should have just gone hungry and slept under a bridge.
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| The vase we never bought in 1982 |
It was so dark when we arrived back in Brussels that we took a wrong turn on the way back to our apartment and walked perhaps an extra 1km. By the time we dragged our feet through the door we'd walked over 20km. John's shoes had started to fall to pieces but we thought would last another day until we could glue them up back at home! My walking boots had proved a treat, both for comfort and for warmth. It was bits and pieces for dinner and early to bed.
