EUROPE NEWS
TUPNews recently visited Brussels, in Belgium. It is my pleasure to report that Brussels is banging.
Travelling by Eurostar had already put me in a good mood, despite the overbearing Aussie property developers on the other side of the aisle. There is something so incredibly unnatural about air travel.
I arrived in Bruxelles-Midi to find that I’d been put up in the rather fabulous Hotel Metropole, seemingly modelled on some vaulted gothic train terminus, which further improved my mood. The Metropole was also housing the conference I was there to attend.
At the close of the first day’s proceedings we made our way to La Manufacture, a red brick ex-factory now decked out in stainless steel and mahogany. Brussels food is good. There I ate ostrich (like a beefsteak but sweeter and more tender); talked Scandinavian political party formation with a Dane; discussed football economics with a German, and bonded with a Finn over our shared love of Talisker single malt whisky. It was a lovely night, even if they were a little slow with the wine.
Earlier, en route to the restaurant, I had got a little lost and wound up circling the St. Gery area of Brussels. This is a little enclave of trendy-looking bars and cafes on the side streets that surround the St. Gery church. At the end of the meal, I decided to go back and hit a few bars.
I was utterly exhausted, reader, but I did this for you.
The first bar I found was a corner bar, but a long and thin corner with plate glass on both sides. Dimly-lit and with a Caribbean vibe, it attracted a crowd of trendy twentysomethings, half of them black and half of them white. I sat at the mosaic counter in my black suit, trying to figure out what the deal was with the ten-foot tree sprouting from behind the bar. I highly recommend this place.
The second was a bit more of a eurobar, brightly lit and marbled, like a Pizza Express, but in a good way. It may have been called Roi de Belges. It was packed, and had a huge selection of local beers. I chose one at random; it was perfectly fine. Feeling a little exposed at the bar, I walked up the spiral staircase to the little Austin Powers cocktail bar on the second floor to find a little privacy. This place is worth a stop.
The third and final place was possibly my favourite. The décor was lazily eclectic: black and white prints of NYC on brick walls, a vintage arcade machine, flowers on the tables. But even more eclectic were the clientele. On one side, a family gathering of ten; on the other, a group of Belgian goths doing shots; some impoverished-looking grad students hunched over a table nursing espressos, prim middle-aged women drinking wine. It was quite bizarre, and well worth a look if you’re ever over there, which you ought to be, because Brussels is ace.
Travelling by Eurostar had already put me in a good mood, despite the overbearing Aussie property developers on the other side of the aisle. There is something so incredibly unnatural about air travel.
I arrived in Bruxelles-Midi to find that I’d been put up in the rather fabulous Hotel Metropole, seemingly modelled on some vaulted gothic train terminus, which further improved my mood. The Metropole was also housing the conference I was there to attend.
At the close of the first day’s proceedings we made our way to La Manufacture, a red brick ex-factory now decked out in stainless steel and mahogany. Brussels food is good. There I ate ostrich (like a beefsteak but sweeter and more tender); talked Scandinavian political party formation with a Dane; discussed football economics with a German, and bonded with a Finn over our shared love of Talisker single malt whisky. It was a lovely night, even if they were a little slow with the wine.
Earlier, en route to the restaurant, I had got a little lost and wound up circling the St. Gery area of Brussels. This is a little enclave of trendy-looking bars and cafes on the side streets that surround the St. Gery church. At the end of the meal, I decided to go back and hit a few bars.
I was utterly exhausted, reader, but I did this for you.
The first bar I found was a corner bar, but a long and thin corner with plate glass on both sides. Dimly-lit and with a Caribbean vibe, it attracted a crowd of trendy twentysomethings, half of them black and half of them white. I sat at the mosaic counter in my black suit, trying to figure out what the deal was with the ten-foot tree sprouting from behind the bar. I highly recommend this place.
The second was a bit more of a eurobar, brightly lit and marbled, like a Pizza Express, but in a good way. It may have been called Roi de Belges. It was packed, and had a huge selection of local beers. I chose one at random; it was perfectly fine. Feeling a little exposed at the bar, I walked up the spiral staircase to the little Austin Powers cocktail bar on the second floor to find a little privacy. This place is worth a stop.
The third and final place was possibly my favourite. The décor was lazily eclectic: black and white prints of NYC on brick walls, a vintage arcade machine, flowers on the tables. But even more eclectic were the clientele. On one side, a family gathering of ten; on the other, a group of Belgian goths doing shots; some impoverished-looking grad students hunched over a table nursing espressos, prim middle-aged women drinking wine. It was quite bizarre, and well worth a look if you’re ever over there, which you ought to be, because Brussels is ace.
Just watch out for the taxi drivers. They’re a bunch of fucking crooks.
posted by oliver at Friday, March 09, 2007
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