Breakfast in Brussels
Finally - I am reunited with a French speaking country! I basically feel at home/at one with my surroundings again.
After 11 hours on a bus from Berlin to Brussels, I sat down eagerly at Starbucks to recoup and find some form of internet connection before leaving again to drop my bags off at the hostel. This all occurring around 6:30am in the morning. I began to explore the early morning sights - mostly this was people getting back/stumbling out of clubs from the night before.
Belgium is a bit confused, admittedly. It is smack-bang in the middle of France and Holland and so you will find that mid-conversation they drop the French and pick up the Dutch (or vice versa). All street signs have Dutch and French, and everything seems to be a mix up. But despite being the capital of Europe (the EU anyway), Brussels has a small town feel to it.
I stopped in for breakfast at Le Pain Quotidien - it is a chain of French boulangerie-type cafés with the feel as if it is a one-off local business. It was dimly lit with low hanging industrial lights, and a huge, long wooden table in the middle of the room with chairs jostled alongside. It is as if you are sharing your meal with your family, though the people beside and across the table from you are admittedly strangers. The whole thing felt intimate and warm, and the most comforting thing after pulling an all nighted on a bus.
I sat there for almost 2 hours, with a soy latté, and an omelette frittata, accompanied by fresh brown bread, and a selection of jams, nut, and chocolate spreads.
They say Belgium has the best chocolate. They're not wrong. Smeared on bread, it's like all your dreams are coming true at once.
The cherry on top of the cake was when a young man walked into the café and sat opposite an old woman who turned out to be his French grandmother. He had a scruffy beard, bed hair and the most gorgeous and sincere smile as he chatted away eagerly with her. I was melting almost as much as the dark chocolate that I had plastered across my warm bread.
After 11 hours on a bus from Berlin to Brussels, I sat down eagerly at Starbucks to recoup and find some form of internet connection before leaving again to drop my bags off at the hostel. This all occurring around 6:30am in the morning. I began to explore the early morning sights - mostly this was people getting back/stumbling out of clubs from the night before.
Belgium is a bit confused, admittedly. It is smack-bang in the middle of France and Holland and so you will find that mid-conversation they drop the French and pick up the Dutch (or vice versa). All street signs have Dutch and French, and everything seems to be a mix up. But despite being the capital of Europe (the EU anyway), Brussels has a small town feel to it.
I stopped in for breakfast at Le Pain Quotidien - it is a chain of French boulangerie-type cafés with the feel as if it is a one-off local business. It was dimly lit with low hanging industrial lights, and a huge, long wooden table in the middle of the room with chairs jostled alongside. It is as if you are sharing your meal with your family, though the people beside and across the table from you are admittedly strangers. The whole thing felt intimate and warm, and the most comforting thing after pulling an all nighted on a bus.
I sat there for almost 2 hours, with a soy latté, and an omelette frittata, accompanied by fresh brown bread, and a selection of jams, nut, and chocolate spreads.
They say Belgium has the best chocolate. They're not wrong. Smeared on bread, it's like all your dreams are coming true at once.
The cherry on top of the cake was when a young man walked into the café and sat opposite an old woman who turned out to be his French grandmother. He had a scruffy beard, bed hair and the most gorgeous and sincere smile as he chatted away eagerly with her. I was melting almost as much as the dark chocolate that I had plastered across my warm bread.
