Quintessential Belgium

Life comes at you fast.

That’s been my motto all semester, and it appears to have carried over to France. At least for these first couple weeks I really haven’t stopped, and this week my lab work really started to pick up.

My weeks consist of: running reactions, running hundreds of TLCs, doing more TLCs, making dilutions for the TLCs, talking about chemistry, working up reactions, rotovaping, re-rotovaping, purifying, and NMR analysis. Whew! I’m learning so much…

….I know, all rationalizations for why my Belgium blog from last weekend (May 16-18) has remained trapped within my messy train-ride penmanship on the legal pad to my right. Let the unleashing begin.


Quintessential Belgium

This is the only phrase that adequately summed up my weekend experience in Belgique. It was the perfect jaunt into a foreign country filled with signature cuisine, ornate architecture, hilarious cultural observations, and even “quintessential” Belgium rain and drear.

My familiar blog readers know that I tend to be a rather harsh travel critic, so my following statement maintains its clout: Chris’ tour guide abilities receive all four MissElaineous stars and the quaintness of Belgium continually impressed me. He ensured that I experienced essential Belgium in one weekend, so book your tours now before he heads home! This past weekend’s adventure reminded me why I fell in love with traveling in the first place. Addiction refueled.

Journey

I left work at about 4:30 and headed straight to the train station. I grabbed a pastry for dinner (pain au chocolate) and boarded my train. I was feeling rather pensive the whole train ride, and made a lot of observations. These observations will follow in a later blog entry.

It was about a 5.5 hour train ride through the north of France, Luxembourg, and finally the Belgium countryside. The train-track scenery was second only to the ride I took last summer through the Austrian alps. I had planned to read “Feminine Mystique” but spent 5 hours looking out the windows instead.

I arrived into Brussels at about 10, and was really glad Chris had come to meet me there because on the last stretch this incredibly drunk man with a really sweet dog got on the train and successfully creeped me out. Chris and I then hopped onto a 20 minute train into Leuven. From the station we walked to the seminary where he’s been living, and the town was simply gorgeous at night. I can already tell I’m going to run out of pleasant adjectives to describe the trip, so bear with me.

Leuven at night.

Since it was so late we went into the silent seminary and headed straight to my floor. Aside from one nun I was the only one on the floor that night since the seminarians and priests all slept upstairs. My room was very cozy with characteristic, tall European ceilings complete with a large window that looked out over the garden. The interior of the building felt a lot like many of the older Catholic churches in the US – similar smells and wall decor. On my way to use the bathroom that night I went to go glance out the window onto the street when a room of shadowed stained glass caught my eye. I turned around and discovered the balcony to the seminary’s chapel. When I wandered in the chapel was completely silent and was illuminated by a dim glow traced from the stained glass and faintly spelled of incense. This simple moment of calm and solitude epitomized peace.

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Q: Who is this Chris guy anyway? Why is he in Europe?
A: This is a long time friend of mine I’ve known since Jr. Historian days at Deerpark Middle School and became good friends with in high school. He spent the year studying abroad at the American College in Leuven and will be going home in a few weeks. He attends Notre Dame and will be entering the Catholic seminary in about a year. [Chris feel free to correct any of this if I messed something up, :) ]

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That night I slept with the window cracked open and listened to the rain. I really should do this more often. The town was devoid of obnoxious noise pollution – at least in the rain.

The seminary from the garden

Saturday

Chris and I met up at 8:30 and went downstairs for breakfast. Breakfast consisted of American cereal the seminarians pick up from the military bases (where they conduct ministry) and Belgium milk that apparently does not need to be refrigerated however the Americans do anyway. I got to meet several of the priests there on sabbatical from Australia, New Zealand, and the UK. I’ve learned that a key part of memorable travel experiences occurs when you meet fascinating people or hear their stories, so this definitely qualified.

After breakfast Chris and I set off in the dreary Belgium weather. I chose to think of it as “authentic” rather than just wet & cold. We walked to the Leuven library that was burned to the ground during each world war. Consequently when it was rebuilt following WWII they took books donated from libraries across the world, mostly from clearly selfish Americans. Any library that donated has a plaque on the inside or outside.

Guess what Chris showed me? (Yes, that weird letter is a ‘T’.) Hook ‘em horns.


Oh, and just a small side note for those who care… Notre Dame could not be troubled to contribute.

For such a classy city, the Belgiums have odd taste in art. This was right in front of the grand library. That would be biologist's needle with a bug on it. wtf Belgium.


Afterwards caught a train to Brugge, the “Venice of the North” with cobble stone streets and winding canals. When we were standing on the platform waiting, there was a large “scout” group of elementary age kids all grouped together. Chris explained that this co-ed version of Boy/Girl Scouts includes just about every child in the country, and it was quite noticeable that the group of about 35 was monitored by one adult and two immature looking teenagers.

As we stood on the platform, we gathered that the group was apparently set off for the coast despite the unfavorable weather. Their train came on the opposite track, so as soon as the group vacated that end of the platform Chris and I took part in an anthropologic study of introverted, polite Belgiums.

Not to make it painfully obvious that they were all avoiding the “Scouts,” the natives started to literally drift in our direction. They avoided contact, acted like they were looking at signs, or turned back momentarily, but by the time the train arrived we were evenly distributed once again.

It was hilarious.

The Belgiums reminded me of cats. They can be aloof, private, sometimes shy and proud, but when you talk directly to them they were very friendly.

Brugge

We arrived in the canal city and expert tourguide Chris invented our plan of action. We walked past some enormous swan nests and the town was adorable. There were linen shops and chocolate shops at every corner. After some initial exploring we stopped at a roadside vendor and picked up my first Belgium Waffle.

Little known fact, there are TWO types of Belgium waffles. The Liège waffle, which is what we picked up, that is thicker and made from dough and contains caramelized sugar cube clumps. We ate them, fresh and hot, under our umbrellas in the Belgium rain. Honestly I felt like I was having a Travel Channel Samantha Brown moment – it might be one of the best cultural foods I’ve ever had in my life. Part of me wanted to turn to a camera like she does and just make a lot of “ooohhhs and ahhhs” because it was that fabulous.


Shortly after my waffle encounter, it began to POUR down rain. Chris brilliantly thought of a local bar he discovered on a back street that specialized in serving over 100 types of beers. By the time we arrived our jeans were soaking up to our knees.

As we sat to wait out the aggressive rain, the character of this local place began to soak in. They played American music (very randomly, including old, inappropriate R&B because nobody comprehends the words) and had an out of place, dusty disco ball anchored to the ceiling. We were the only tourists in the small place.

Chris recommended a Belgium Trappist beer (made in a Trappist monastery) called Chimay. This is appropriate because of our mutual good friend, Chinmay.

If you’ve ever been fortunate to have true friends – where it takes no more than 5 minutes to feel like you haven’t actually been apart for the elapsed year – I have no need to elaborate further. We sat engrossed in conversation until the rain subsided.

Afterwards we headed to the Basilica of the Holy Blood, a religious relic that dates back to 1149. I’ll admit, my vision and memory may have strangely become muddled at this point. However, Chris expertly explained that the relic is attributed to contain a fragment of coagulated blood collected from Christ after the crucifixion by Joseph of Arimathea. The cloth was brought to Brugge from Jerusalem during the crusades. The relic is processed annually through the streets by the Bishop, and has been ever since its arrival in 1149. Chris got to see this earlier this spring.

(not my picture, from the web)

Well he timed our visit to the Basilica perfectly, because we came in right as they brought the relic down for the once a day adoration. We got to go right up to it’s glass case and touch it while saying a prayer. Again, could not have been better.

We did more exploring, and I got to go to a chocolate shop. Until now, I’ve never had the chocolate wisdom to know that Belgium chocolate really is superior. Now I know. Now I will gain weight. C’est la vie.

We went back to Leuven in search of warm food. Chris listed three choices of “Belgium” food, and I could tell by his tone intonations that Domus was our best choice.

http://www.domusleuven.be/

It was. We both ended up with a warm stew like dinner that came with Belgium frites. Apparently Americans have it wrong: they are Belgium fries, not French. This classy Belgium cuisine comes with any tasteful meal and is consumed by fork with mayonnaise.

That night we did more walking, people watched on the “longest bar in Europe” [imagine a quiet European 6th Street] while eating ice cream in the cold, and walked around a former women’s colony from the time of the crusades. Belgium may be cold, but they have the coziest, most inviting interiors I’ve ever seen. Restaurants have the most inviting window seats, and Chris says he sums up Belgium as a place where you want to curl up in front of a fire with hot chocolate. I concur.

Sunday

I woke up Sunday and went down for mass. It was nice to hear English again. Afterwards everyone gathered for coffee and tea and I got to talk to more interested people.

Chris and I then scampered off and completed my tour of Leuven. We walked around the botanical gardens, and stopped off for lunch at Timory. A really formal looking but laid back local stop. Here Chris and I ate very contrasting Belgium meals. I had coffee and a Brussels Waffle (made from batter, light and crisp, topped with powdered sugar and fresh fruit) and he had some type of Croque Monsieur, frites, and a beer. This made us laugh.

http://www.timory.be/

From there we toured the beautiful Gothic church, St. Peter's, that had a very nice museum. We spent the remainder of the time at Fr. Damien’s grave. Fr. Damien will probably become a saint in the future because of his brave work with leper colonies.

In Summary

I’ve worked on this off and one for the past week, and I’m exhausted! Now I’m left with an addiction to Belgium chocolate, a constant craving for waffles, and the desire to read a Hercule Poirot novel.

What's with all the bikes Europe?