Brussels: Now That's One Hell of a Good Waffle

Having had such a nice day bouncing around Amsterdam with my new Aregentinean friends, Alejandro and Denise, we all three decided to ride to Brussels on Monday.

We immediately found Brussels to be easily walkable, kind of like Amsterdam without the canals. Our day of sightseeing had as its home base the fabulous Grand-Place, an ornate 16th C. palace (I'm not sure exactly... Didn't have a Lonely Planet for Brussels, which for me is equivalent to having my thumbs taped to my palms!) with a sprawling spire, linked with other old buildings to create a lovely cobblestone square.


Then it was time for something really interesting. Down a maze of narrow streets from the Grand-Place stands the Manekin Pis, a pint-sized bronze fountain of a boy, standing proudly and cherub-like, gaxing off into the distance and, well, pissing. Aparently this little guy is a major cultural icon to Belgians, a fact that, on its own does, little but to create in one a moment's meditation, standing there against the background trickle, on why exactly it is more present-day North Americans don't speak Flemish.

After this breakthrough I convinced Alejandro and Denise, who are impressively even more frugal than I am, to sit down with me for a waffle. We got three -- avec chocolat, confiture, et creme (you should've heard my high school French!) -- and washed it down with a fine Belgian ale.

L.