According to so-called wellbeing gurus, there’s nothing like a minibreak from home and the daily grind to revive the spirits and boost morale. Short vacations, says the experts – even just a couple of days - are often better for the soul than long holidays. “Happiness comes from planning and anticipating a short break away from the norm of your life,” said one website solemnly.
And it turns out it’s true: happiness and anticipation washed over me in comforting waves when a long-forgotten birthday gift voucher for two nights in a fancy hotel in one of the Benelux countries floated to the top of a pile of old paperwork recently.
I nearly threw it away assuming it was out of date, but it wasn’t. It was still valid for a few weeks.
It was like winning an extremely small lottery: all we had to do was choose from a range of available mini-break locations and types of hotels in Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg. The list of options in the gift voucher’s accompanying booklet was huge.
My other half generously decided to leave me to make the final decision. Whatever I picked would be fine, she said, because she likes surprises.
After hours of study, I picked out a chateau in the Belgian Ardennes which looked idyllic, and a grand hostelry on the Dutch coast at Noordwijk which would be great, even in bad weather (I love a howling gale at the seaside).
An imposing guest house overlooking the deep ravine of Luxembourg’s capital city was also on the shortlist, mainly because I grew up listening to English pop and rock on Radio Luxembourg long before I realised it was a place as well as a music station.
But we’ve stayed in the Ardennes before and will again. As for Noordwijk, my fascination with out-of-season-grey-sky northern European beaches is not widely shared within the family.
And Luxembourg? It has its attractions (yes, it really does!), but maybe I’ve spent too much time on the Kirchberg recording historic and hysterical EU events over the years to enjoy the city as a touristy rose-tinted spectacle.
So I started again and set some clearer mini-break criteria: the location it had to be somewhere interesting, not too far away, and with plenty to see. Crucially, it had to be somewhere we wouldn’t normally think it was worth staying for just a night or two if we were paying the bill.
The result surprised even me.
I picked the legendary Belgian capital city of Brussels for our getaway retreat.
“You what?” said my mini-break companion, who, although surprised (as she had asked to be), was also puzzled, because we already live in Brussels.
Ah yes, I said, we live in the Brussels-Capital Region but not in the City of Brussels, where our weekend break hotel is located.
But, she replied, pointing vaguely out of the window, the capital-C city of Brussels is just over there, and we’ve been there loads of times.
Yes, I agreed, it is just over there, which is a big plus for a weekend break because we don’t have to waste hours in airports or sitting in endless traffic jams on motorways. My logic and the logistical simplicity of the choice won the day. We were off to the big city!
First after a million visits
It’s true of course that we’ve been to 1000-Bruxelles-Ville a million times, including unintentionally now and again when popping out for a long walk and a coffee and a bun. But can we really say we’ve ever done the city justice? I’m not sure we have. Or, to put it another way, I’m certain we haven’t.
Even my introductory visit to Brussels in 1971 was insultingly fleeting. It lasted a few hours, during my first road trip across Europe with a mate in his Hillman Hunter, which was the name of a car all those years ago.
Our final destination was Stockholm, and Brussels merely served as the initial stop for a snack and a toilet opportunity after the boat crossing from Dover to Calais. We didn’t even stay overnight, which was very rude.
We only registered the magnificence of the Grand Place because we were looking for somewhere to park the car: it remains the most beautiful car park I’ve ever parked in, and my mate and I wondered why on earth cars were allowed anywhere near such a spot.
At about the same time, a Brussels-based journalist called John Lambert was also wondering why cars were allowed in Grand Place, but instead of having a waffle and a pee and heading off to Stockholm like we did, he wrote an excellent piece for the English-language Brussels magazine calling for a campaign to ban traffic from going anywhere near there.
His article led to petitions of support and pedestrian sit-ins and in March 1972 the first parking ban was imposed – a victory that made it into the pages of the New York Times under the headline: ‘Turning City Squares back to Pedestrians – Brussels’ Mini Victory’.
Complete victory had to wait. Cars could still drive around Grand Place until full pedestrianisation was declared in 1991.
But back to the modern day stress-free, stripped-down, two-day mini-break Brussels experience and how to might it work in such a familiar city.
Having agreed on the destination, we set the following terms and conditions:
- We pretend that we’ve never been to the city before.
- We don’t visit any bars, restaurants or sites that we would have already visited if we had been to Brussels before, which for the purposes of our mini-break, visit, we haven’t.
- We don’t contact friends who live in 1000-Bruxelles-Ville.
- When walking around the city, we look up, take notice and appreciate, as good tourists do, rather than mooch about looking at the pavement, like locals.
I contacted our fancy hotel and made a booking for the following Friday and Saturday nights and then checked the travel options.
The journey time using bus and tram would be 37 minutes, and walking would only take 50 minutes, but we had two suitcases (including formal evening wear if required in the hotel restaurant) so we decided to take the car.
Satnav recommended four alternative routes, and we chose 4.1km and 18 minutes using the N4 – the Chaussée de Wavre. Upon reaching our destination, we checked in at our fancy hotel where the receptionist sorted out a parking space for us and, noting that we were English, asked if we were tired after our journey. We said not really, as there wasn’t much traffic and we seemed to get here in no time. Oh, how we giggled: my wife was convinced that from that moment the desk staff marked us out as secret lovers on a dirty weekend.
The receptionist asked if it was our first time in Brussels and we said yes, it was the first time we had stayed in the city. She offered us a street map and I started to say no thanks but a prod in the ribs encouraged me to change to an enthusiastic yes, please. We both studied it closely as she explained that there was plenty to see and do, but probably too much for one short visit, although we could always come back and we said yes we would definitely be coming back.
Busted as fakes
We strolled out into the street, looking upwards at the tall, elegant buildings and admiring the wide boulevards as we headed towards what, thanks to our map, we were certain was the heart of the old city.
Then our cover was blown. Someone shouted and waved from across the street and dodged between the cars to cross over and join us. “Hi guys, I thought it was you! What are you up to?”
It was no good, we had to confess that we were undercover tourists, trying to see Brussels in a new light. In this context, we asked if she could recommend a good place for lunch. Well, she said, why don’t you go to that nice place we were at a couple of months ago just near the Sablon?
We explained that we were on a mission that didn’t include revisiting places we might have visited before, and that consequently, we were now obliged to ask who or what the Sablon is?
The answer about it being a quaint old part of the city with cobbled streets and nice shops and antiquey places and oh yes! a great big church and some good restaurants and oh yes! that big chocolate shop on the corner, was perfectly adequate for the casual visitor.
And so we continued, looking up at buildings and spires and only looking down to consult comprehensive guidebooks. We lunched that first day at the rooftop restaurant on top of the Musical Instrument Museum, or the Old England building, and dined that evening at our fancy hotel (no formal attire required).
Old England, now home to MIM.
On Saturday we bent the rules and (re)visited the Manneken Pis, although officially we were there to study our fellow tourists, in particular the serious ones who still use heavy-duty SLR cameras and not little cameras on phones like the rest of us.
I chatted briefly with one genuine visitor from the UK who thought the little fellow was so impressive that he was going to buy a small copy to take home as a surprise for his auntie. When he confirmed that his aunty was a wine drinker, I urged him to buy the corkscrew Manneken Pis and really give her something to talk about.
Another tourist from across the Channel asked where we were from and in a weak moment, I admitted that we were bogus tourists because we lived just a few miles out of the city centre.
“Ooh, you are lucky,” she said, and so we are. After a stroll around many unfamiliar parts of the city, including Rue de la Cigogne, which deserves the tourist promo as the “prettiest street” in Brussels, and dinner in an unfamiliar restaurant selected at random, we went back to the hotel to be greeted by our umpteenth cheeky grin from the receptionist.
She said that as tomorrow was our last day, she could give us an extra hour on the deadline for leaving the room, but she supposed that we’d be leaving early anyway as we had so far to go home.
We said that we weren’t planning to leave early because we would do more sightseeing before we left and would take our chances on running into heavy traffic so, yes please, an extra hour to get sorted would be great.
She made a note of it and flashed that cheeky grin again. Then she asked: “Do you think you will be visiting us again soon?” And I promised her with absolute sincerity that we would definitely, most certainly be visiting the city again very soon.
