Off to Brussels on Maundy Thursday

Easter/Spring Break

I’ll work backwards on this one…Happy Belated Easter to all; we spent ours in Belgium, where there certainly seem to be – quite appropriately – plenty of churches. And we wandered through a number of them (lovely but like Hindu temples, they start to blend together in one’s mind, or at least in mine).

Anyway, we had a lovely holiday, left on Maundy Thursday (Holy Thursday in our neck of the woods). Apparently in England the term is widely used, though not so in Ireland, and its use varies geographically and from religion to religion. So there you go, I’ve just increased your vocabulary.

Our Maundy Thursday started with us scrambling to get out the door as our mini-cab driver (cab isn’t smaller than a black one, just not the same cool London cab you see in all the ads…but it’s cheaper. And at least in this instance, efficient – maybe too efficient).

We got to Saint Pancras train station in plenty of time, retrieved our Eurostar tickets from the machine, zipped through security and immigration, then hopped on the 8:34 a.m. train to Brussels.

Easy, relaxing, clean train ride and speedy too – we were in Brussels 2 hours and 15 minutes later. (At times the thing goes 180 mph.)

Plenty of tunnels, green green green grass/farmland (now I’m dying to see more of the English countryside, especially this time of year). Upon arrival at the train station we of course had to hit a bathroom; en route we passed a mime, a violinist and a lady in the loo handing out cookies. (Yes, Claire has us all calling it the loo at this point.)

We cabbed it to our hotel, then headed via tram to the Grand Place, Brussels’ “center” spot, if you will. Certainly for tourists. Our first stop was lunch. We found a great restaurant near the square located in an old cellar built in the 1600’s. It was cozy and warm on a gray Belgium day, menu was all Greek to us – well French – waiter helped us out though.

Joe’s burger arrived w/ a fried egg on top, the chicken fillets came with pasta sauce, much to the girls’ consternation and I very much enjoyed Belgium’s traditional dish: mussels and French fries. (The fries here are big, meaty and crispy. Perfect. They make McDonalds look puny and cheap.)

That and Belgium beer and we were set.

From there we hit the chocolate museum, located in an old house near the main square – 3 floors of chocolate information and memorabilia.

First we were given samples – yum – then caught part of a chocolate demonstration (in French). The woman in the apron was pouring rich, delicious smelling chocolate into molds. Looked good to me.

Other aspects of the exhibit dealt with growing cocoa beans, harvest, fermentation, drying, etc. Work intensive. The exhibit referenced how the popularity of chocolate spread, how originally it was just a drink, etc.

Then on to Neuhaus (one of doznes of chocolate shops) to sample more Belgian chocolate. We sat outside amidst the growing crowd in the square – lots of people out and about enjoying the warm day (the sun had decided to join us), then we went to the Brussels City museum, which is in the King's House (a lovely, ornate old building) in the Grand'place of Brussels. (The museum opened its doors as such in 1887.)

The top floor boasts 600+ costumes donated to the city for the statue Manneken Pis (Dutch for little pee man). A famous Brussels landmark, Manneken Pis is a fountain sculpture depicting a naked little boy urinating into the fountain's basin.

On various occasions the statue is costumed, changed according to a schedule managed by the non-profit association The Friends of Manneken-Pis, in ceremonies that are often accompanied by brass band music (per wikipedia).
On occasion, the statue is hooked up to a keg of beer and cups are handed to passers-by.

The Manneken Pis costumes we saw at the museum reflect various countries, areas of Belgium, occupations, military branches, global causes, stars (i.e. Elvis), ways of life, etc. An interactive computer gave more detail on costume donors, when they were donated, etc.

We then checked out the other floors of the museum – different aspects of Brussels’ history and art – city development, fire, paintings, sculptures, etc.

Then we headed off to find the infamous statue, winding through narrow streets and checking out all the chocolate shops and lace shops. Plenty of bars and cafes, too. I suspect people here spend plenty of money on beer, coffee and chocolate. I joined in as much as possible, throwing in a few waffles, too.

Ava soon feel asleep in the stroller – bumpy cobblestones and all. (If the stroller decomposes before our eyes it will be because of Brussels’ streets.)

At our last stop – St. Nicholas Church – they were setting up for the Last Supper. Since we weren’t invited we elected to collapse at the hotel.

About the Church (it has an interesting history so I will bore you w/ the details):

One of the oldest churches in Brussels, Saint Nicholas Church was named after Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of the traders because the market was just around the corner. The church was built in an asymmetrical way because a small brook used to run through the street.

The entrance to Saint Nicholas dates from the second half of the 12th century, the choir was completed in 1381 and the side-chapel, devoted to the Holy Virgin, was constructed in 1486.

During religious troubles in the 16th century, the church was plundered and in 1695, during the bombing of Brussels by the French troops, it burned completely. In one of the pillars of the Holy Virgin chapel a canon ball can still be seen (we saw it).
During the Middle Ages St. Nicholas’ tower served as the city belfry (watchtower), but in 1714 it collapsed, killing 1 man and 1 pig – is that a holy way to go or what?).

In 1929 a plan was proposed to demolish the church because it hindered the traffic in the Boterstraat. This plan was never executed, and the old houses surrounding the church have also been preserved.

For dinner we hit a French restaurant near the hotel. Our waitress walked us through the menu – we had to laugh as she described the poultry dish – “it’s between a chicken and a turkey.” (What might that be? Wasn’t a duck; she described that later.)
Re: the last dish…we didn’t understand her first explanation so she said “balls” quite clearly with a gesture to get the point across.

We didn’t order the tur-chicken or the rocky mountain oysters, instead opting for lamb, beef and pasta. All good, lovely ambience and service.