#5: Belgium is off the beaten path...and prefers
it that way
In all honesty, I don't think I heard another
American accent outside of our group the entire weekend. If countries were human
people and capable of sentient thought and expression, Belgium would
undoubtedly be a man's man, but with a charismatic charm; a sense of low-key,
understated elegance combined with an inimitable respect for tradition and culture.
Belgium is the guy that brings his pickup truck over
to your house and helps you move, asking nothing in return. Belgium is the
quiet mind that may not say much, but when he opens his mouth, people stop and
listen. Belgium is comfortable with his position in the world and doesn't feel
the need to ostentatiously flaunt himself from a rooftop like Mr. Paris.
Belgium accepts you for who you are. He is the person for whom you need not
make any pretenses. It doesn't matter who you are, Belgium will invite you in
for a beer and express genuine interest in your life.
Obviously, that’s saying a lot for having spent only a three-day
weekend in the country, but it just struck me as odd how quickly I warmed up to
the place.
#4: Belgian Waffles:
Everything you've
heard about Belgian waffles is absolutely true. It's not as if you can meander
down to your local supermarket anywhere else in the world, buy a
"Belgian" waffle, and expect the same chewy, crispy,
chocolate-covered, caramelized layman's confectionary masterpiece available
from rough-around-the-edges street vendors in Brussels or Bruges.
My first memory of Belgian waffles was in Antwerp. We
stopped at a vine-covered, candlelit waffle shop near the cathedral right as
the sun was setting and watched a street performer cover of MGMT's
"Kids" until the waffle arrived on a flat piece of plastic; a fairly
nondescript altar, if you ask me.
Every doughy well overflowed
with warm chocolate syrup, still slowly diffusing into the hefty treat. Blissful
notes of cinnamon and vanilla wafted into the air and promptly seduced me
faster than an exotic supermodel with Season 5 of “It’s Always Sunny in
Philadelphia” in one hand and a large sausage onion pizza from Big Bills NY
Pizza (best pizza in Colorado, in my opinion) in the other.
Forsaking any sense of dining etiquette and throwing my
inhibitions to the brine-scented wind, I proceeded to throw the fork away and
nearly weep openly as this Belgian waffle worked utter miracles in my mouth.
You laugh, but I'm completely serious. If I could eat a Belgian waffle every
morning, I'm pretty sure I'd be a better person. I'd also be morbidly obese,
but I would still do it.
#3:
The Charm of Bruges
Sure, Brussels and
Antwerp were awesome. I for one thoroughly enjoyed our night in Bruges though.
The entire town makes you feel like you’re in a Disney movie. A modest city
square, most marked by immaculate architecture and cozy candlelit pubs, only
offers a brief respite from the narrow back alleys leading to hole-in-the-wall
pomme fritte parlors, artisan bakeries, and a number of insanely cool canals
and small parks. The charm of Bruges stemmed from its navigability and
pedestrian-friendly layout.
Not only was it easy to get
around, but the locals were some of the most fun-loving, laid-back people I’ve
yet to meet. We’d not been in Bruges for more than ten minutes when a younger
woman - and who I’ll presume to be her family - approached our group. She
grabbed my hand (I felt some kinda way about it) and quickly explained she was
to be married the next day and that this was her last night as a bachelorette.
She asked me to sign some sort of scavenger hunt card, on which I dutifully
inscribed the following message:
Dear
Jana,
Congratulations on your marriage to
Elias. You’ll make beautiful Belgian babies together.
Jana then asked me to
carry her across the threshold of a discount clothing store: a request I
immediately obliged. She gave me three kisses on my right, left, and then right
cheek and her and her entourage thanked me repeatedly for indulging them.
After what will live in
the annals of history as a crazy night in Bruges, I found myself atoning for
the sins of the previous evening over an Irish Coffee and a cheese croissant in
a small espresso bar west of the city square. I’d gotten separated from our
group and, rather than worry about scouring the city trying to find them, I
opted for wandering aimlessly through the narrow streets, stopping occasionally
to gather myself in one of the hundreds of small parks dotting the cobblestoned
city.
It was in one of these parks
that I just sat on a bench and people-watched, drinking in the brisk, botanical
air, listening to the playful chirping of birds overlaid with the ambient
chatter of tourist groups and the pitter-patter of a light rain. For whatever
reason, I was overcome with a sense of spiritual belonging -- a fleeting
connection with the lives of every denizen of Bruges. For a moment, there was
no such thing as language barriers, national borders, or war. There was only
nature, the quaint houses of outlying neighborhoods, and the realization that
each person around me was living a life just as profound and vivid as my own,
in which I might appear only once as a silent bystander on a park bench or a
lit window at dusk.
The charm of Bruges was
its simplicity and minimalism softly whispering in your ear, reassuring you
that despite your failures, insecurities, and regrets, you were still welcome;
that you were still a human being, and by association, equal to everyone else
despite the fact that you had little money and hadn’t showered in more than 24
hours. It was an immeasurably powerful experience that picked you up, dusted
away the dust and grime, and sent you on your way with a cheerful salutation
and a promise that you were welcome to return at any time.
Bruges Central Cathedral, aka, "The Eye of Sauron"
#2: Delirium Tremens
Tremens is, without a doubt, the
best beer ever to grace the surface of the Earth. The name hails from a Latin
term that translates to “trembling madness” in association with the violent
withdrawal symptoms after alcohol abuse. It’s a floral, naturally fruity,
bready masterpiece of a beer that’s easy to drink and finishes with a zest of
citrus and crisp pear. To be fair, it’s definitely not cheap (4-5 euros a
bottle), but I’ll be damned if it wasn’t worth it every time for the critically
acclaimed Best Beer in the World.
It goes
without saying that the only place one could meaningfully imbibe Delirium
Tremens was in the #1 reason why Belgium is amazing:
#1: The Delirium Café
My first experience
with Delirium was in its eponymous Mecca of beer, the Delirium Café in
Brussels. With more than 3,000 beers on the menu, the café holds the Guinness
World Record for the most commercially available beer at one bar in the world.
We’d arrived in Brussels, checked in at our hostel, dropped our backpacks off
in our room, and promptly set off to find this brewtopia, and let me tell you,
nothing could’ve ever prepared me for the experience of drinking Delirium in
the Delirium Café, surrounded by the majority of students from our Rotterdam
exchange group who only two weeks prior, were complete strangers.
Regardless
of your views on alcohol, it was impossible to deny that Delirium brought us
together. It goes without saying that some of my best friendships here in
Europe were forged around a large, Valhalla-style table on the second floor of
the café around glasses of Delirium Tremens. I sang an acapella rendition of
“Take Me Home, Country Road” with Seamus, a Political Science student from
Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland, and Nick, another International Business
major from the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill. I ate a magnificent
steak dinner for 10 euros next door to the café with Philippe, a Finance
student from Toronto, and conversed on the finer points of the Clinton
presidency with Kevin, a Business student from the University of Southern
California.
I met a
German girl named Julia, who worked in Human Relations for Audi, talked about
skiing and snowboarding with Cristian and Kim, two younger servicemen from the
Norwegian military, and debated with a local Belgian why AC/DC’s best album was
definitely ‘Powerage’, not ‘Highway
to Hell’ as he claimed. It was the archetypal bar experience; one enhanced by
the variety and quality of both the beer and the people.
My only hope is that I’m able to
return one day.
The legends are true
And there you have it: my top 5 reasons why Belgium is
awesome. I would absolutely place Belgium amongst the top countries I’ve ever
visited, and would wholeheartedly recommend it to the beer aficionado, the
architecture connoisseur, and even the most seasoned traveler craving some time
away from the larger commercial hubs of Europe. I promise, you will not be
disappointed.
