Six Train Rides out from Brussels

Sometimes I have to love the airlines! This quarter American and Citibank offered Brussels for 35,000 airmiles. To make it more interesting, Hilton had a Category 1 hotel in Brussels with a "point stretcher" week! I checked the Belgian Railway site and found they had a 5-day pass for unlimited travel for euro. What about convenience? The hotel was a block from Brussels’ north station: Gare du Nord. I was off!

American’s Brussels flights leave from Chicago, and I live 2 hours from Pittsburgh. What a drag that 8-hour flight from O’Hare might have been after driving for 2 hours and then flying from PIT. I was amazed! A full dinner and breakfast, plus snack were terrific. The seven-course salmon steak dinner pleased me so much I slept like a baby. No jet-lag for me! I bought my pass at the airport in Brussels, hopped a train to Gare du Nord, walked one block to the Hilton, where they were happy to stash my bags while I got the train to Namur to enjoy the first day of my pass. There I got lost in a twisting, narrow medieval maze of charming shops and no traffic.

I visited seven cities, romping on the rail to castles and cathedrals, grand place and burg, whizzing along canals, past windmills, farmlands, and woods. One could do worse than be a romper of rails in beautiful Belgique!

Quick Tips:

Many rail stations are appealing and historic. Most have cafes where coffee isn't as expensive as in the center of town. Some have tourist info counters either in the station or close. Rest assured, there will be a train back to Brussels when you are ready to go, but check the departure board in a small city before you leave the station if it makes you feel better.

Tournai, down by the French border, 1 1/2 hours from Brussels, is a city I really enjoyed. The Cathedrale Notre-Dame, Belfry (Beffroi), and Grand Place there are simply delightful. The Cathedral is one of the best examples of Romanesque architecture in Europe. Not far from Tournai is Mons, another charming medieval town. Both could be visited in a day, but I enjoyed all of Monday in Tournai and saw Mons only on Sunday night after the flea market in Leige, a mile of vendors who set up all day by the romantic River Meuse.

A little French is handy in Hainaut Province, as I didn't find any English-speaking people in Tournai or Mons. Perhaps that is why the Belgian Tourist Office isn't publicizing these towns as much as some.

Best Way To Get Around:

I used nothing but public transportation, trains and buses. In Tournai, kind folks in the rail cafe told me to get bus 1 or 4 to the city center. They had heard me ask the waitress, who didn't know, and wrote it down and brought it to my table. How nice!

In Bruge, daypasses are euro. In Leige, I tried to walk but got lost and went back to the train station to get a bus. The center isn't that far, but turns are confusing. In Antwerp, my train from Brussels didn't go to the main station, and I had to change trains--easy! This was the perfect country for my European initiation.

You can avoid losing about euro/ if you pay for your pass with a credit card at the airport and wait until you get to a town to exchange your money at a bank. Don't think about getting on a train without having your pass already filled in for the day, or you may be fined. Also, one must fill in the date properly or start over and lose a day.

Hilton describes the decor as "an experiment." Perhaps "Northern European chic modern" suffices for public areas. Add "homey" and tiny for rooms. I could have been happy with any decor, because I was cashing in HHonors points for 5 free nights: only 25,500 between two of us. For paying customers, this hotel has winter weekend nights as low as $114, hard to beat in Brussels, absolutely the best central spot for exploring Belgium.

We didn’t use the metro, but stop Rogier is in front of the hotel under Place Rogier. Gare du Nord for national rail service is one block, and a convenience store for supplies is only 1/2 block. For those who want to pay more, the Sheraton is across the street. The neighborhood isn’t among the busiest in town, but it is populated at night with enough pedestrians that we felt safe. The block has a few restaurants. Hilton has its own open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The bar in the lobby is open late, and there is a haman, which we didn’t use, so busy were we chasing things medieval.

Our room was small, just the bed, a one-foot-square table on each side, and an 18" wide shelf built in under the window opposite the bed. There was a small cupboard under the shelf, where we could stash our snacks. There was no coffeepot, but I had brought my own. The floor was wood--no carpet, but "homey" with a little area rug. No place to sit but one small chair that scooted under the shelf, where the television took up some space. No room for luggage except in the hallway between the bedroom and bath. This cramped arrangement took a day to get used to, even though we weren’t there much. The futon was comfy, lighting good, and everything immaculate and cleaned again every day. The bathroom was great, but had no hot water late two evenings. Mornings, water was always hot.

The staff deserve commendation for being the most pleasant and accomodating people on earth. They all speak English. One young lady had to re-program our keys twice when we got locked out by mistake, and I just loved how sweetly she said, "I am sorey for dot." We were happy here and intend to return. We felt rather European out in the city all the time, and when we did go back to the hotel, it felt "homey," just like Hilton intended.

There is something "curious" and surprising, even shocking about the decor at Hilton Brussels City. For instance, cherry red and royal purple or violet in the same room create just a tad of a shock! Oh, that’s modern art, and it keeps us from getting too comfortable. I’ve added some photos, including one of the red sofa Hilton features in their ads for this hotel. In their in-house tv ads, they call their experimental design "seductive."

Our first morning at Hilton Brussels City, we enjoyed the breakfast buffet at Brasserie L'Oliva. The young fellow who seated us walked, talked, and motioned like a budding maitre d’, but without the tuxedo. Two women were also working at the seating podium, but they stayed there while the lad with the elegant gestures moved around the floor. Several of the serving staff were among tables, mostly empty ones, and at serving stations. Why so much help for a buffet? I wondered. The place soon filled up, and all the staff were busy performing service that was notably exquisite. Every gesture was perfectly deliberate. I had forgotten the term "French service," even though I used to be employed at it. So, this is what it looks like in France (Belgium)! Everyone was so calm. The energy in this restaurant was so clean. I was impressed until I began to worry about how much our bill would be. I had read that a meal can be as much as $300 in Brussels.

Looking around, I noticed that the decor was nicer than I had at first realized, so subtly chic. By this time, we had already visited the food bar for an assortment of fruit, so we went back for some heartier courses: brie, gouda, potatoes, bacon, lamb sausages, scrambled eggs, and some sweets. The lamb sausage was something different for me and delicious, and the eggs were distinctively rich, loaded with butter and heavy cream. Yum! We were happy! This breakfast was special. Everything about this restaurant was so pleasing and the food so hearty, we were ready for anything, even the frigid Belgian December and a full day’s trek around Leige.

Our bill for the breakfast was $48 total for the two of us. We hadn’t asked before we indulged, had simply flashed our key at the woman at the podium, and we probably wouldn’t have opted for this choice if we had. But this was a small price to pay to be reminded to inquire about prices before digging in. We were relieved that it wasn’t more. Now, I am convinced that it was this much only on Sunday--perhaps weekdays are less. Yes, I’m sure I will have breakfast here every weekday when I return. After all, you can’t put a price on that fantasy of living on a French country estate and going downstairs to see what the kitchen staff has cooked up for breakfast! Something about this dining room made me feel that privileged.

The Christmas tree market is like a maze for children to skip through or get lost in. Illuminated hunting scenes top regal facades, and colorful restaurants add a little red to the cleaned stone backdrop of palatial structures. Brussels’ Grand Place is where the majestic mingles with visions of plenty. (I wanted to buy a tree and take it back to my room at the Hilton, where there was barely space for my luggage.) This square defines Brussels as one of the great capitals of Europe, a magical city, where women once dressed in furs and precious jewelry, I imagined, as I conversed with other Americans in jeans. Christmas music in English filled the market and side streets.

When I turned to my companion and asked, "What now?" I was only partially referring to the two of us. We had seen so many other town squares thoughout Belgium, most of them decorated more than this, most all of them cluttered with the little wooden stalls of craftsmen and vendors. I believe it was Antwerp where the ice skating rink was being erected in the town square; others had colorful carousels to delight children. Those towns belong to the denizens and to the visitors who choose to frollick in them; this one, so stately, is dedicated to the more serious enterprise of posterity--truly grand, but still with t-shirts for sale just around the corner! So, "What now?" asks the World Heritage designation.

The House of the King (the fine arts museum by day), the magnificent gothic Town Hall with its elegant belfry, and the 17th-century guild houses are best seen by night, when the figures dancing across their tops are illuminated. Anyone visiting the museums in daylight must stay until the light withers, which should be only about closing time in winter. There are plenty of restaurants of every ethnic variety all around the Grand Place and up the narrow side streets, where one can wait for the magical night.

We chose to try t’Kelderke, right on the magnificent square in a 17th-century brick cellar, famous for its stoemp, pronounced "stoomp," (mashed potatoes with vegetables). The large selection of Belgian specialties with rabbit and carbonnade seemed so appropriate to complete the motif of "abundance of the hunt," suggested by other aspects of the center square. Relishing the atmosphere of plenty, an American theme, too, especially at Christmas time, we lingered until the square was nearly empty.

Hurrying in the sub-freezing cold back to Gare Centrale, just up the hilly street and across a few plazas, we talked about returning another year--in warmer clothes. Considering other places, we agreed that Brussels was the perfect city to spend some time near the winter holiday.

Belgium claims the densest rail system in the world--and everything else they say is true! Accustomed to Amtrak, I had to admire near perfect punctuality, dependability, frequency, ubiquity, smoothness, and speed. Electric trains on continuous track whiz along the Belgian countryside, sailing lightly up the foothills of the Ardennes, and zipping back down into Flanders. A railroad bumb like me can’t do much better than to "Let the towns slip slowly by" until I arrive at a burg with a castle or cathedral of note. Heck, countin’ spires and turrets is no more trouble ‘n watchin’ for the prochain arret. What do I care, anyway, what the next stop is? It’s bound to be perfectly wonderful! If not, I’ll just get back on the train and go to another, something I can’t count on back home.

"Next stop, Namur" sounded good to me on Saturday; Sunday was for the flea market in Leige. This was heaven--taking a train to a flea market, then rolling in to Mons that night for a starlight steeple chase and the prettiest town square so far, all lit up for Christmas. I would get off in Brussels at Gare Centrale, instead of my usual north station, just to see how the Grand Place there was decorated. That grandeur didn't need much, but Mons had a nice idea, using strings of fairy lights as tie-back curtains on long windows. I took a picture--charming!

Monday, Tournai; Tuesday, Bruges; Wednesday, Antwerp; Thursday, aerogare. Aerogare! "The very word is like a bell to toll me back to my sole self!" My railroad romp is over! But I am not finished roving the Belgian track, for I didn’t make it all the way to Arlon, tucked up against the Luxemburg border, or to Ghent or any of the seaside towns in summer. I haven’t seen enough of the Ardennes or the Meuse Valley, close to Fairyland.

I’ll get another $58 euro pass and another hotel a block from a railway station in Brussels, a great center from which to explore the country. No need to plan or set an alarm, ‘cause this railroad waits for me! It says: "Anytime. Anyplace. Tell me when." My sleep is sound. And each morning the departures board keeps the promise. And each evening, it is there late, when I’m ready to roll on home. I’ll not worry ‘bout tomorrow. What peace in a hobo life!