I travelled on the 1258 Eurostar - a recently refurbished E300, said the guard over the intercom - and all was well. Fortunately, I had lunch at the Station Pantry having cleared security, so there was no need to trampse up and down the train with hot tea and extortionate snacks. Instead I just sat there playing with my iphone. We stopped at Ebbsfleet around 10 minutes after leaving St. Pancras and then I think Calais Frethun followed by Lille and then Brussels Midi. I took a taxi through the congested streets of the city and now I sit in the NH Hotel Brussels Grand Place Arenberg, which would have taken me around half an hour to walk. To be honest, I don't have my trainers otherwise I probably would have hoofed it over here. I'm only in town for one night and then I'm heading home so there's no room for walking shoes.
In fact, talking of walking, I need to really get my act together - along with my colleague Paul in the office - and start up our round-the-town treks. We've given in a little bit to the caff and it's not the way to go.
Anyway, back to Brussels. I'm sitting here at the desk of room 610, a fairly pleasant room with two single beds, a decent-looking bathroom and a minibar stacked with various things, including a tiny Toblerone, which I've eaten. I know, I shouldn't have stayed well clear, and let's face it, I'm not a great fan of the triangular chocolate, but I figured that I was in Belgium so I might as well eat one. Furthermore, there's no restaurant here in the hotel so I'll have to go out later in search of somewhere to eat dinner. There's also no iron or ironing board so I've had to hang a shirt on one of the hangers provided and hope it loses the creases developed while stuffed in my tiny one-night-away suitcase, which is little more than a glorified laptop case. Still, it does the trick. What's the point of a huge piece of luggage for one change of clothes? None at all.
The room is rather cosy and it's got a lot to do with the lighting, which is pleasantly dim and perfect for this time of year. Although the room is fairly modern in terms of furnishings, a smouldering log or coal fire would add to the ambience. There's a flat-screen television on the wall opposite the bed and an office block across the street and because they're still working here in Brussels, I've had to draw the curtains as I don't want nosey office working spying on me.
I'm going to take a wander around, although I know roughly where I am as I've been to Brussels many times before. I'm close to the Grand Place, that's for sure, I mean the hotel has the words Grand Place in its name so it can't be far, but where to eat? There's a great Indian restaurant around here somewhere, called the Spicy Grill, I've written about it before, or rather I've raved about it before and now I might have to seek it out (and risk bad breath in the morning). Which reminds me, I need toothpaste. I always need something. If it's not toothpaste, it's a razor or shaving foam, there's always something missing and it's very annoying as I don't have time to faff around on this trip, it's a whistle-stop visit, one night, a meeting and then home again. I might have a couple of hours tomorrow to do a bit of mooching around, but I don't have the footwear for any serious walking.
When I left the hotel in search of the Grand Place, it was dark. A lot of shops were still open but mostly only those selling fridge magnets, bobble hats and scarves, plus one or two waffle houses with, it has to be said, some pretty imaginative waffles on display. Unfortunately, I'm not a big fan so I passed them by, although I did stop off at the Hard Rock to buy a fridge magnet, adding to my collection of two from Tokyo and Pittsburgh. I wandered into a Swatch retailer and saw the perfect watch for yours truly. It had a blue dial and a brown leather strap and I want it so badly. Don't get me wrong, it's not expensive, not like that Rolex I used to own but was forced to sell to pay off a debt. In fairness, I never wore it and it gained time so it was always, in my opinion, a bit pointless. But that doesn't mean I don't want a decent watch to wear. I looked at it for a long time, prompting the saleswoman to try her luck, but I wasn't buying, not right then at any rate, although buying it in Brussels would give it a back story that it wouldn't possess if I purchased it online. "I bought this in a little shop off the Grand Place in Brussels, you know!" I might say if asked.
I needed to find somewhere to stop and eat dinner and chose Bocconi, a fantastic Italian restaurant where I have been a customer on two previous occasions. It's a very, very nice restaurant, it never ever lets me down and it's worth every penny. I skipped dessert and I don't drink so the bill was a modest 57 Euros and now I'm back in the hotel and will probably go to bed with my book by Laurie Lee. Yes, I'm still reading it, mainly because I don't tend to get a lot of time to sit and read and by the time I get home most nights I'm too tired and there's always something good on the box. Not tonight. Or perhaps there will be something good on, who knows? I'll check it out.
A general election looms back home in the UK and I find myself wondering about all the political parties and how I don't really feel comfortable voting for any of them. Boris Johnson? Well, no, he's a buffoon and a liar and a pompous git and a Tory and they've messed the country up enough and certainly need some time out of power. Jeremy Corbyn? I'd like to vote him, but can I really be so stupid? The bastard wants to tax my back garden, for heaven's sake, and he's keen on letting all and sundry into the country when there's already too many people. Then there's Jo Swinson. She's more like a primary school teacher than the leader of a political party and no, I can't vote for her either. I think the problem is that none of our political leaders have any gravitas, they're not what I would call 'proper politicians' and, therefore, there's nobody worth voting for. I need to sit down and think long and hard about what I want before 12 December, the day of the proposed election, two days after my birthday.
Subterranean Homesick Blues
It's around 0300hrs on the morning of Halloween, when I wake up in the pitch dark and look around. Nothing much is happening, there's the occasional sounds of people talking as my room is right opposite the elevators so when people get back late from some party or other they stand around talking before heading to their rooms. I'm not saying I was woken up by the noise, I just woke up and tried to get back to sleep. But then, for some reason, I started thinking about Bob Dylan's Subterranean Homesick Blues and found it on Spotify, I simply had to play it, even through the tinny little speaker on my iphone.
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| Room 610 NH Hotels Brussels Grand Place |
Anyway, back to Brussels. I'm sitting here at the desk of room 610, a fairly pleasant room with two single beds, a decent-looking bathroom and a minibar stacked with various things, including a tiny Toblerone, which I've eaten. I know, I shouldn't have stayed well clear, and let's face it, I'm not a great fan of the triangular chocolate, but I figured that I was in Belgium so I might as well eat one. Furthermore, there's no restaurant here in the hotel so I'll have to go out later in search of somewhere to eat dinner. There's also no iron or ironing board so I've had to hang a shirt on one of the hangers provided and hope it loses the creases developed while stuffed in my tiny one-night-away suitcase, which is little more than a glorified laptop case. Still, it does the trick. What's the point of a huge piece of luggage for one change of clothes? None at all.
The room is rather cosy and it's got a lot to do with the lighting, which is pleasantly dim and perfect for this time of year. Although the room is fairly modern in terms of furnishings, a smouldering log or coal fire would add to the ambience. There's a flat-screen television on the wall opposite the bed and an office block across the street and because they're still working here in Brussels, I've had to draw the curtains as I don't want nosey office working spying on me.
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| About to leave St. Pancras Intl... |
When I left the hotel in search of the Grand Place, it was dark. A lot of shops were still open but mostly only those selling fridge magnets, bobble hats and scarves, plus one or two waffle houses with, it has to be said, some pretty imaginative waffles on display. Unfortunately, I'm not a big fan so I passed them by, although I did stop off at the Hard Rock to buy a fridge magnet, adding to my collection of two from Tokyo and Pittsburgh. I wandered into a Swatch retailer and saw the perfect watch for yours truly. It had a blue dial and a brown leather strap and I want it so badly. Don't get me wrong, it's not expensive, not like that Rolex I used to own but was forced to sell to pay off a debt. In fairness, I never wore it and it gained time so it was always, in my opinion, a bit pointless. But that doesn't mean I don't want a decent watch to wear. I looked at it for a long time, prompting the saleswoman to try her luck, but I wasn't buying, not right then at any rate, although buying it in Brussels would give it a back story that it wouldn't possess if I purchased it online. "I bought this in a little shop off the Grand Place in Brussels, you know!" I might say if asked.
I needed to find somewhere to stop and eat dinner and chose Bocconi, a fantastic Italian restaurant where I have been a customer on two previous occasions. It's a very, very nice restaurant, it never ever lets me down and it's worth every penny. I skipped dessert and I don't drink so the bill was a modest 57 Euros and now I'm back in the hotel and will probably go to bed with my book by Laurie Lee. Yes, I'm still reading it, mainly because I don't tend to get a lot of time to sit and read and by the time I get home most nights I'm too tired and there's always something good on the box. Not tonight. Or perhaps there will be something good on, who knows? I'll check it out.
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| Awaiting dinner in Bocconi, Brussels... |
Subterranean Homesick Blues
It's around 0300hrs on the morning of Halloween, when I wake up in the pitch dark and look around. Nothing much is happening, there's the occasional sounds of people talking as my room is right opposite the elevators so when people get back late from some party or other they stand around talking before heading to their rooms. I'm not saying I was woken up by the noise, I just woke up and tried to get back to sleep. But then, for some reason, I started thinking about Bob Dylan's Subterranean Homesick Blues and found it on Spotify, I simply had to play it, even through the tinny little speaker on my iphone.
Johnny's in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
I'm on the pavement
Thinking 'bout the government
I don't really want to think about the government, not at 0300hrs, but I still listen to the track twice, it's that good, and then I try to sleep, but it's impossible. I got out of bed around five minutes ago and it's now 0511hrs, a great time to sit around writing something - anything for that matter. It's a long way to breakfast, that's all I can say. I'm looking forward to breakfast, there's nothing better than a hotel breakfast and that's for sure, although the restaurant is a bit of goldfish bowl down on the ground floor with windows looking out on the street. Is it worth going back to bed, resetting the alarm to 0630hrs and at least getting around an hour's sleep? Probably not. I can sleep on the Eurostar home.
Did I mention that I don't have toothpaste or a razor? I think I did. Oddly, I have a toothbrush and shaving foam so perhaps I should clean my teeth with soap and shave with my toothbrush, although somehow I don't think it'll work. Did I also mention that my room has two single beds pushed together? I might have done. Anyway, I fell between the two while watching the news. They must be on casters and as I was lying across both of them, trying to make myself comfortable, the beds simply went their own way and I ended up between them. Luckily, there was nobody around to witness the spectacle. In fact, talking of spectacle, room 610, and I'm sure other rooms in this hotel, has a toilet observation window, albeit frosted. This is very annoying because normally when I stay in a hotel I leave the light in the bathroom on and the door closed except for a small slit of light, but with an observation window this practice is impossible as the light floods through the glass and on to the bed. That's why I woke up in the dark.
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| View from a taxi window in Brussels... |
