Bruxelles, Fin.

The last two weeks of Brussels was ... intense.  How do you say goodbye to a place that you've been a part of, and apart from, for the last few months?  Part of my sadness also came the fact that I was graduating.  What am I, a 22 year old Psychology-Communications double-major, qualified to do? How am I to survive in the real world?

Still, there were great moments.  I met up with a cool guy, I made friends with a former Italian study abroad (wish I'd met her earlier), I finally danced on table tops.  I laughed until I cried, I showed Brussels to people I'd met in Berlin, I said goodbye to Madame Dufrasne.

~*~

~*~

While I was getting ready to leave, I made a short list of ridiculous things I heard in Brussels:

1. It looks like a hairy caterpillar... Let's eat it! -- R. K.
2. Do ducks have cold feet? -- E. G.
3. Scrabble is a great... euphemism.  There are many kinds of Scrabble, especially with the international boards. -- C. E.
4. Yeah, I did (basically equate women to cats and men to dogs). -- C. E.
5. I don't know about you, but I'm feeling twenty-two! -- R. K.
6. Few things are more frustrating that short bread in tall toasters. -- M. B.
7. (About Grand Place) It's kinda like Costco! -- R.K.

~*~

The things I'll miss: a quick beer, waiting for the lights at Grand Place, speaking in Franglish because I can. I'll miss the grocer's down the street, being able to walk or take the bus (even though I always refused to run for them), ending up in the weird areas of town because Google Maps sucks at times.  I'll miss taking the train or airplane to a different country for the weekend.

~*~ 

The day before I left, I finally went to Antwerp.  Not because I had to, but because I wanted to.  I wanted to get away from Brussels (if only for a moment) because I didn't want to think about leaving.  I wanted to pretend that it was just another weekend getaway.

~*~

~*~

I think Dr. Seuss said it best "Remember me and smile, for it is better to forget, than to remember me and cry."

Bruxelles, Easter Break: Part 1

It started with a simple "Why not": why not visit Vienna, another country?  Why not use my Easter break to have fun?  Why not travel and treat myself to a short European whirlwind tour?

With that idea, a few hastily discussed suggestions, and a credit card, I booked a flight to Vienna. From Vienna, I would theoretically be shown around by a friend, travel through Poland, Budapest, and Prague.  Then, I would go to Berlin before finishing my time on vacation.

Of course, the best laid plans consistently go to waste.

I arrive at 10pm, and confidently stroll out, my backpack slung onto my back. I'm sure that my friend is going to be there, that I'll meet her parents, and we'll exchange pleasantries.  At the same time, I'm sure that we'll both be ready to fall asleep almost immediately.

Instead, once I stroll out, I end up waiting.  I spend the night in the airport, waiting to hear from my friend.  I spend the next day, waiting and wandering through Vienna.  I spend a good hour, waiting to hear from the police once I've been pick-pocketed.  I spend another hour, waiting to see if I can get a train ticket reissued and to see how many ways I can plead with the bank to give me some money when all I can find is my credit card. I wonder how I am going to enjoy this vacation.

In short, I spend my first 24 hours suspended in a state that Voltaire described as "waiting in the expectation of living."

Afterwards though, I decide to enjoy my vacation.  I still call and message and text my friend, worried since I don't hear from her.

I found a hostel, called Meninger, which made my stay a bit easier to handle: I now had a bed to rest in, a place to stay.  Hip hip hooray!

Over the next few days, I decided to enjoy Vienna.  I took a walking tour. I visited a bar that had a clothesline covered with *a-hem* donated bras.  I ate Viennese violet candies.

Inside the Albertina museum.  It reads: "Wherever man hopes to take the mysteries of nature by surprise, he finds only his own image reflected in the mirror.  No diver knows, before he goes down, what he is going to bring up." The quote is in English and German, courtesy of Max Ernst."

The Manner shop is filled with different things: neopolitan liquer, cookies, chocolates.

This delightful store is where I also tried Viennese violets.

I stared at Gustav Klimt's painting of The Kiss, ate sachertorte in Vienna, sat on the huge spinning Ferris Wheel.  I drink Almdudler (a popular soda), listen to a street-performer play the accordion, and try Wienerwurst.

I walk around the Vienna Central Cemetery.  I go through the Museum Square.  I stop at the House of Music.

Then I leave.  After three days, I leave for Poland, for Krakow, for Warsaw.  I sit on an overnight train and try to sleep as my cot (one of six) rattles against chains that metal frames.  I toss and turn.  And wake up in another country.

Oh Boy, I'm Seeing Green [Or, Saint Patrick's Day in Ireland]

Saint Patrick's Day was originally going to be a very chill, calm, quiet --

Oh, who am I trying to kid?  Saint Patrick's Day was going to be a party.  I just happened to be in Dublin, Ireland.

That's right!  I checked off a big one: spending Saint Patrick's Day in Dublin, Ireland.  And several things were made abundantly clear to me: I will NEVER be able to binge drink like some people I met, multiple pub crawls with Americans and Brazilians are an experience, I should not subside on candies and chips, and I definitely love staying in hostels.

Let's recap.  It starts with my body, still aching from Amsterdam, suddenly saying "Well, crap."  It continues like this: I speak with my professor, stating that I have a plane to catch and could I leave 30 minutes before the end of class.  He then proceeds to say, five minutes before I'm supposed to leave, " Since we have some students who are leaving at four, we'll take a moment of pause, so they can gather their things."

It goes like this: my friend and I leave our class, giddy at the prospect of going to Ireland. We rush to the metro, where we're supposed to meet with another friend.  Amanda, the first friend, starts circling the station, worried that we'll be late, that we'll miss Gabby, that we'll not make it to Ireland.

Gabby, it turns out, is on the other side of the barrier, slowly laughing at us.

We get to the South station, when Amanda spies Sbarro. Nothing can deter her, so we get pizza and head towards the bus.  Instead, we are waylaid by taxi drivers who call out "Habiba" and tell us 13 euros, 30 minutes, much better than the bus.  We take the taxi.

We get there two hours early, our gate not even open.  We end up having a beer as we wait for RyanAir.  Amanda blows off steam once we make it past the security check (something was wrong with her visa, apparently).

This is where I make an explicit statement: RyanAir, as an airline, terrifies me with bright yellow seats, cramped rows, and never-ending advertisements.  It's freezing cold, people don't stop talking (ever) and the lights are always on.  The landing is bumpy and terrifying long, but when people survive unscathed, the flight attendants play trumpet music.

We land on shaky legs. Amanda and Gabby stumble towards a friend's apartment. I stumble towards Isaac's Hostel.  It turns out to be on the North Side.  The bus driver gives me directions, then tells me to be careful.  I make it without incident, and then proceed to pass out.

The next day, I go to join my friends on a free tour of Dublin.  Of course, I forget about the time change coming over, meaning I'm a full hour early.  I indulge in breakfast at Queen of Tarts, a pastry cafe shop that's fairly well known.

The tour is phenomenal.  We laugh at our tour guide's jokes, I learn some dirty Gaelic, and we get a pretty good idea of the town.  Of course, this is in between rain and sunshine, jokes about Irish accents, and a desire to get somewhere warm.  The rest of the afternoon is spent calming down and having some coffee.

Colorful and fantastic!

Oscar Wilde was only one famous person I "saw": there was Mary Malone and Bram Stoker too!

Starbucks in Ireland: Earl Grey tea, marshmallow swizzle, chocolate chili and dark forest cakes.

I meet up with Re (you'll remember her from my last post about Amsterdam).  We end up going to Leo Burdock's: I get fish and chips, she gets chicken tenders and chips.  We sit on the street, drinking cider and getting strange looks from locals.  After that "last supper", I ended up subsisting mostly on crisps (potato chips) and candies in the hostel...

That night, we go on a pub crawl.  When I say "pub crawl", I mean a crawl.  It involves Germans, Australians (who call me "American"), Irish guys and Spanish girls.  It involves drinks at different bars, dancing through streets, and laughing hysterically at the cold air.

I met a few great guys on the pub crawl and kept stealing Sven's hat. 

The next day, Re's left back to the States, her Euo-trip over.  I go to the Guinness Storehouse, walking through run-down streets, watching markets where people sell odds and ends, even groceries.  When the economic crisis in 2008 hit Ireland, it hit HARD.  Banks went under and people are only now starting to see some minor changes in the economy.  The area around the Guinness Storehouse is way outside of the center of town, and really shows the economic difficulties.  Even though it's on the South side, which is supposed to be more affluent, a lot of people were definitely struggling.

But going back to the Guinness Storehouse... It's massive. Huge. Five stories filled with boozy history, beer sampling and experiences, like learning how to pour the perfect pint of Guinness.

I got a perfect pint of Guinness.  In case you didn't know, Guinness has a two-step pour.

The wall of history: also known as every Guinness bottle ever.

That night, I go on another pub crawl.  Funny thing about Americans on pub crawls: they're always the loudest. And the ones playing beer pong.  The guides say a few things that are definitely hysterical and true: "When you're upright, you're our problem.  When you're at 45 [degrees], you're sort of our problem. When you're flat, you're NOT our problem."

The next day is Saint Patrick's Day.  Rows of people, one after another, in green and green and more green. Apparently, I don't look like a tourist (even though I was wearing green tights and somebody's green hat): a police officer thinks I'm late for work and ushers me through a gap in the parade! 

Everywhere, people piled onto monuments, on top of electrical boxes, and on balconies.

I laughed at the random Disney characters mixed in with Saint Patrick's Day balloons.

The parade was a tad disappointing because I expected it to be like Macy's Thanksgiving... Not even close. But it was fun and a great time, even though I saw four fights and people get arrested.  

My trip ended like this: stumbling into a taxi at 3:30 am, getting to the airport and having a full Irish breakfast, with three cups of coffee, before I wait at the gate.  I watch four guys stretch out, asleep in sleeping bags, before I close my eyes.  

I end up in Brussels, torn between being awake and annoyed, while I go to class.

À Bientôt Bruxelles [My Weekend in Amsterdam]

“Some tourists think Amsterdam is a city of sin, but in truth it is a city of freedom.  And in freedom, most people find sin.” 

-- John Green

This blog post is from two weeks ago, but it's taken me awhile to upload.  Mostly because of one word. Midterms. A term that inspires fear, shock and horror.  But also much relief once it is over.  For me, it also meant that I got to go to Amsterdam!

I was going to Amsterdam for two reasons: one, I really wanted to see it; and two, my friend was visiting.  The lovely Re and I became friends last semester while we were in Morocco together.  Since it was her spring break, she decided to do a Euro-trip by herself.  Pretty amazing, considering that she'd never left the country (except for Mexico) until she went to Morocco!

Anyways, Amsterdam.  The bus ride there was a bit horrible, but funny: I was quite exhausted and nauseous from the night before.  However, I got to sit next to a few women from Morocco, and practice derija!  Once I arrived, I walked over to the hostel.  The place is called Heart of Amsterdam and is based on a box office/movie theater.  The reception desk is called the box office, and each room is designed after a film.  The room that I stayed in is called "The Wall."

What happened was I waited two hours for Re, getting anxious to the point that I thought "I need to call the police and ask if they've found an American girl with amnesia!"

Of course, guess who chose to walk up at that moment in time... Re.

She had to buy gloves because she forgot hers.  At least they were cute souvenirs!

Anyways, our nights and days were filled with a serious of strange events:

We met a group of girls and guys who proceeded to show us around the Red Light District in Amsterdam.  Speaking of the Red Light District, I would never be able to stay in Amsterdam, just because I feel like I would get desensitized to sex... If it's so in your face, all the time, wouldn't you get used to it?

Later, we went to a club, and several other places.  Re and I, while freezing to death since it JUST HAD to start snowing while we were in the club, decided that Dutch people are super friendly, very bizarre, and just a bundle of fun all around.  This was in between getting phone numbers from Italian guys, getting grabbed and kissed on our cheeks by some random guy, and getting photo-bombed by some guys from Amsterdam.

Two of the friendly Dutch men we met!

The next day, we also went to the Van Gogh experience, as well as the House of Bols.  The Van Gogh experience was fantastic, since they also used 3D technology to recreate some of the paintings, so it felt as if you saw the painting step by step, and even felt as if you were part of the painting.

In front of the My Dream exhibition sign, I couldn't stop grinning.

Now, disclaimer, it did take us awhile to walk to the House of Bols.  In fact, it took us about 30 plus minutes, since we got lost!  But it was worth it: the place was fun, colorful and awesome.  I even semi-flirted with the bartender!  The place was more than worth the 12 euro ticket: we tried three drinks, got to learn about the history and even got our own drink recipes!

The House of Bols is the house of the oldest alcoholic drink: genever.

Even if I didn't go on the Heineken Experience, I saw the boat!

In the end, there were no space cakes for me, no baby bump shrooms, and no making out with Dutch guys.  What I did end up loving was the people that I met, and the fact that Re came with me to experience Brussels!  But that's a whole other blog post...

This is also the most stereotypical photo of Amsterdam I took, minus the cannabis!

Bruxelles M'a Dit: Joyeux Anniversaire, Bon Anniversaire [It's My Birthday!]

My birthday in Europe.  Oh wow, not what I was expecting.

I like celebrating my birthday with friends, I really do.  But at the same time, it's a bit bizarre for me this semester.  I'm studying abroad (one of the older study abroad students; I've only met one other senior and she's younger than me!) and without people that I usually hang out with.

But it was fantastic.  It was nice.  I got presents from people (especially sweet considering that I didn't expect any), had a delicious dinner (even though I made the dessert and there was a lot of suspicion over how the cupcakes would turn out), and got to dance in a national monument.

In the end, all I have to say is:

Merci à tout le monde! C’était un anniversaire bizarre, heureux et fantastique!

I got so lucky: new dress, sweet card, cookbook and some vino! 

Bruxelles, C'est Douze [Luxembourg in a Day]

Luxembourg.  A very small, very rich, very hockey obsessed country.  But seriously, when I walked out of the train station, almost everyone that I saw had hockey skates.

I went the 23rd of February, so I do apologize for the lateness of this post.  Midterms and such have been driving me up a wall!

Anyways, back to Luxembourg City, Luxembourg. Three hours on a train, filled with fun discussion and decision making.  It was Rach, me and three of our guy friends.  The guys got lucky when they bought their tickets: 87 euros for three (turns out there's a discount for groups of three or more traveling together, but you have to leave and return together). When we got to Luxembourg, the guys had to find their hotel (side note: it was... um... located across from a "gentleman's club").  Rach and I went with them, but we had already decided that we were only going to stay for the day.

After that, we had lunch.  Take hungry girls and guys, who have different food preferences.  Throw in wind and snow.  Add a twenty minute walk to the center of town.

We had a nice lunch at Paul, then tried to go visit the casemates (underground tunnels that link the city together).  Unfortunately, they're only open in the summer.  There was still snow and wind when we found the tourist's office and grabbed a map.

We wandered through the shopping district (there was much excitement over the Gucci store), visited the Church of Notre Dame (there was a service in Luxembourgish, which is actually a language), and visited a bar called The Tube (it looked exactly like a Tube station in England, and there was a rugby match on).

It was an amusing day, even if we were told: "Well, yeah, that's basically all of Luxembourg."

Part of an art gallery that we wandered past.

There was quite a lot of graffiti!

Everyone was a goofball!

In the shopping district, there was a green cow.  How now?

The local beer that I tried was good. Not great, but good.

The outside of the train station at night...

...and the inside.

Bruxelles, Voici Onze [One Day, Three Countries]

Europe is quite small.  In one day, we had lunch in Germany, coffee in the Netherlands, and dinner back in Belgium.

Disclaimer: a great amount of what we did would have been impossible without the aid of a car.  We got that covered by making friends with a very awesome, kinda nutty Belgian and an amazing Greek DJ.

First stop was Monschau, Germany.  Google it. It LITERALLY looks like Belle's village in the Disney movie (Beauty and the Beast, the Little Town song).  But it was good fun.  The Beatles were blasted, there was some nice scenery and we even had a few crazy detours (thanks to GPS and traffic around Liege).

But... Here are a few pictures!

I'm at the border of Germany, and cold.

Flatmates in Germany! 

Like I said, Belle's village...

...with "Tradition".

We had a nice lunch inside a hotel, which had an adorable little French Bulldog... 

After that, we headed towards Aachen.  Or rather, the plan was to drive to Aachen, but we changed course.   Also, let it be noted that Rach and I were being teased for being tourists (and yes, I was walking at a snail's pace because I was taking pictures).  However, the guys got in on the picture taking!  

We got to the Netherlands, which for a first impression weren't particularly awesome.  It's kinda just... flat.  

I'm still cold. 

We headed to a tourist spot, where Belgium, Germany and The Netherlands all meet.  It was pretty cool, even if it was empty.  Afterwards, the other three decide to let out their inner child on the playground.

On the plus side, I'm in three countries at once!

Afterwards, I fell asleep on the ride back and just stayed in.  Which means: video montage!

Brussels Random Video, Part 2

So... Our host mom, hostess, whatever you want to call her is amazing.  Best woman EVER. One day, she decides to make us crepes, but since she doesn't know when Rach and I will be eating, she basically says something along the lines of "I trust you to NOT burn down the house, here's crepe batter, have fun."

Which leads to us doing this:

And this:

This is what my flatmate and I do with our lives.

Bruxelles [Clubbing and Bar Hopping, Oh Boy...]

I'm completely in love with Belgium right now. Brussels, Europe, it's basically a massive playground. And I want to stay here for a really long time. That's kind of why I'm looking for a job here.

Apart from that, my days have been filled with homework and classes, the usual ho-hum doldrums of any uni student.  Papers, a few presentations and group projects make me feel like I'm back in freshman year all over again, like I haven't done anything with my life.

My weekends though...

Let's just say that I've been having a blast.

I've been to quite a few clubs, done my fair share of traveling, and have managed to let myself... relax.

To be honest, I miss Morocco.  I miss the constant call to prayer, the reminder throughout the day.  I miss being able to walk by the ocean and on the beach.  I miss the chaos of the medina and the taste of too-sweet mint tea.

But I love the...freedom that I have here in Europe.

I love going to crazy clubs and just talking to people.  I love the student body government parties, where our UNIVERSITY DEAN basically provides a crap-ton of money for parties, and lets a few designated students basically buy tons of booze for people to enjoy.  I love trying the new beers here and even trying things that sound like a bad idea (absinthe that comes in a "bong" or a drink called Pink Elephant, with seven kinds of alcohol).

One of the clubs is gorgeous.  Spirito.  It's inside an old church, which they basically just remodeled into a massive, beautiful (and freaking expensive) club.  I got in because I knew someone who was joining a group of people who were going to celebrate a birthday party.  They bought bottles. And booked tables.  Oh boy.

I think my  favorite bar right now is one called Delirium.  Yes, it's a huge tourist attraction.  And yes, it's a bit pricey for beer.  But honestly, where else would you get to try passion fruit beer, cactus beer and a beer called Pink Killer?

I've gone out a couple times to a tiny club called avenue.  And yes, it's avenue.  I'm so official, I even have a member's card!  But anyways, ladies' nights are 10 euro entrance and free drinks all night long.  The guys have to pay 50 euros (sorry guys)!

I went to a very awesome party with my flatmate.  We were invited by these two guys that we met awhile back, for a birthday party.  Basically, there was a masquerade in a gallery, in a monument, in a gorgeous park.  Apparently, the guy just throws parties there when he feels like it.

There's also a great club called Gotha, which is similar to Spirito.  We went a little too early (12:30 or 1 in the morning), but we still had a good time.  The DJ's choice was... interesting.  Side note: my flatmate and I were the ONLY girls wearing tights. And no heels.  We were still taller than most girls.

We're also on the facebook page now? Mkay, cool.

In short, with all of this going out experience, I've learned a few things:

1. Beer pong and drinking games happen all the time, no matter what people think about Europeans being classy with their booze.  I've played more drinking games than I should or have ever.  King's Cup also seems to be a popular choice.
2. The bars around here are great. Really great.  Fantastic even.  You don't have to go to a club or anything like that when you could be perfectly content drinking a beer in a bar that has great music.
3. Most people don't really go out until late.  Two in the morning is a great starting time.  Pre-gaming is advised, especially since drinks in clubs can get pricey.
4. Going out is expensive (see 3).  But if you go out, you GO OUT.  I've seen more girls navigating the cobblestone roads in heels than I have seen in flats.  It's crazy.
5. My tolerance is basically gone (two Belgian beers and I'm out of it), my wallet pretty much despises me, and I didn't bring the right clothes to party hard.  Oops?

Brussels Late Night Vid

So, it's late (around one in the morning). I'm waiting on a skills test, and this is my life right now.

Bruxelles: Welcome to the Carneval

Carnival, Carnivale, Carneval is HUGE.  Granted, the largest celebration is in Sydney, Australia (who knew, because I didn't) and most people think of Rio's huge party scene or Venice's masks.

There were also girls with Red Bull backpacks.

But Binche (pronounced buh-EHN-che) is unique.  Their carnivale celebration was named a UNESCO World Heritage Event in 2003.  That essentially translates into two things: it's considered culturally significant, and there are going to be a lot of tourists.

At the tourism center, Rach was having fun.

I thought the one on my right was staring...

At the same time, it was fun and amazing to drink hot wine, watch the crowds, and have some very Belgium frites.  We tried the ones with samourai sauce (a spicier version of the cocktail sauce we've been having).

The costumes were adorable, especially on the kids.

Even the balconies were packed.

How people wanted attention (and oranges)!
The white fluff is a hat that can ONLY be worn in Binche.

Adults clamored for oranges
(and yes, that was an umbrella being used as a bucket).

Rach's bag was filled.

Some of the orange porters got to take a rest during the parade.

And it's not a party until someone gets arrested.

 And finally, a short video of the craziness I captured.

Bruxelles [Snapshot]

Instead of an actual post, I give you a short slice-of-life post today.

TOP FIVE REASONS I LOVE THE GRAND PLACE:

1. I love people watching, from the wedding shots, to the tourists who jump for their pictures.

2. It's right near the best fries (in my humble opinion) and a fun bar (Delirium Tremens, anyone?).

3. The guy who sells his artwork there lets me look, even if I don't buy.

4. There's always something happening: from the guy singing opera at eight at night, to the drunken Frenchmen at five in the morning.

5. It's just beautiful.

TOP FIVE AREAS OF BRUSSELS (INCLUDING PLACES I NEED TO GO):

1. Grand Place

2. Ixelles

3. Rogier (just because the City2 mall is located here)

4. Rue Dansaert (which is a huge party area)

5. Flagey

TOP FIVE PARTY MOMENTS I REMEMBER:

1. Vesalius College hosted pub crawl: Granted, this was for the study abroad orientation, but it was still fun.

2. Two Manchester girls, four guys from the states, plus our little gang.  And the party went until 7 am...

3. Going to a masquerade held inside a (temporarily) converted art gallery and drinking Moet champagne.

4. Learning how to play "Asshole" (a card game) while teaching people how to blow smoke bubbles with a hookah pipe.

5. One very special word: CARNIVAL. 

Bruxelles, Numero Sept [A Quiet Weekend]

Last weekend, my flatmate and I decided that we would spend a quiet Sunday in town.  The original plan was to go forth and find the comic strip museum.  However, we ended up getting ridiculously lost.

Therefore, we wandered around Rue Dansaert, and ended up relaxing.

I was amused by the appearance of a vintage Vespa...

...and graffiti that read "reach for the sky."

When we got a bit parched, we came across a gorgeous tiny little tea shop.  However, the small size meant that we had to wait for one of the six tables.  But it was worth it!

We ordered Earl Grey French Blue tea...

...and the dessert sampler: rice cake, cheesecake, chocolate cake and apple cake!

We also got a side serving of friendly, neighborhood dog.

We continued along our little trek and found something unusual: escargot.  Now, I've tried snails before.  But never have I tried snails that came out of a food truck, named Chez Jeff, where the snails have apparently earned world-claim fame.

If you ever want to try them, head to the area around La Bourse at five or six in the evenings.

To be honest, my tongue was tingling afterwards.  I'm not sure if that's good or bad.