Tram 82 gamely links up the north-west Brussels commune and “village within a city” of Berchem-Sainte-Agathe (Sint-Agatha-Berchem in Dutch – although both usually just refer to it as Berchem) with the urbanised industrial outpost of Drogenbos near the Paris motorway, which is technically outside Brussels and inside Flanders but largely French-speaking.
The tram meanders into Gare du Midi, where it almost turns at a right angle, so seemed logical to split the journey into two legs: going south first from Midi to Drogenbos and then back to Midi to travel northwest to Berchem.
It was a good -6ºC when I gained Brussels’, and also Belgium’s, busiest station. On a practical note, the clearly-signposted toilet is clean and well looked after. You must buy a €0.50 ticket to enter - card or cash - and a helpful homeless person will show you how it works in return for some tiny remuneration (I had no cash so traipsed off to buy him a coffee).
The tram stop (Gare du Midi/Zuidstation) is at ground level, well lit (it used to be Stygian) and - blessed relief - with rather handsome wooden seats which are both clean and not bone-crunchingly hard. As the 82 emerges into the bright and the cold one’s view is assaulted by the old, not to say derelict, head sorting office of the Belgian postal service. Part of the station complex, it is to become the new headquarters of the Belgian railways but is currently in a state of abandonment.
The tram follows the railway line for a kilometre or so and stops right outside the old Wiels brewery (Wiels). Elegant, custom-designed and with its vast copper vats in its main hall, it ceased production in 1988 and morphed into a cutting-edge art venue. It was closed when I visited as it is preparing an exhibition of celebrated Columbian artist Oscar Murillo to open in early February. The cafe/restaurant/bar is stunning, hedged around as it is by those shiny copper tanks.
The tram passes close to Brussels’ largest indoor arena, Forest National/Vorst Nationaal (Zaman). Opened in 1970 and seating some 8,000 people it has welcomed such luminaries as Bob Dylan, Diana Ross, Queen, U2, Tina Turner and Ed Sheeran. Upcoming in the next year or so are chansonnier Pascal Obispo, the Peking Circus, Michel Sardou, Disney on Ice, and the ballet Swan Lake. It is perhaps churlish to point out that the arena is somewhat dwarfed by Antwerp’s Sportspaleis who now manage it.
Art Deco and Audi
A few stops on (Forest Centre/Vorst Centrum), we are abruptly turfed out, one and all, and enjoined to climb onboard a dreaded Tbus to take us to Drogenbos (whether the “T” stands for “tram or “temporary” I cannot say). This is no bad thing as firstly it enables me to admire the Forest town hall. It is undergoing major refurbishment and the commune’s administration has decamped.
The building is classical Art Deco with orange bricks, an asymmetric tower, and interior and exterior sculptures by Belgian master Victor Rousseau. It is a listed building, much of its furniture and appointments are likewise protected, and I for one will be heading there for a guided tour when it reopens.
The second Tbus benefit is that it doesn’t quite follow the tram route. It goes instead along the Boulevard de la Deuxième Armée Britannique/Brits Tweede Legerlaan. This is flanked on one side and for about half a kilometre, by the enormous Brussels Audi plant.
I have always wondered that such a massive factory should be located in a busy and high-cost city, especially considering the long-since demise of Renault in Vilvoorde; but there it is. It now only makes electric cars, and its website says it sustainably generates 95% of its own power needs, offsets the rest via a wind turbine project in India, that batteries coming from Hungary are now brought in by train rather than truck, and that their human resources department has an active pro-trans policy. All-in-all quite something.
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Still inside the invisible linguistic barrier (Stalle) is Nemo 33, Brussels’ much-vaunted deep diving pool – indeed briefly the deepest in the world until Deep Diving Dubai saw it off. It looks like any undistinguished warehouse from the tram (the pool is mostly underground) but is 34 metres deep. The water is kept at 30º which means no wetsuits necessary and there are artificial caves to be explored. The pool’s Thai restaurant is open to the public.
The route turns into the main drag of Drogenbos village and ends at the poetically named Chateau/Kasteel. The grand eponymous castle, Kasteel Calmeyn, is one tram stop back (Grote Baan/Grand’rue) from the terminus and the gates are temptingly open. Nevertheless, it is a private estate providing, yes, much-needed greenery between the village and the motorway - but sadly with no public access.
Through its grounds flows the Zenne/Senne river which disappears underground a little further north. So malodorous had it become in the mid-1800s it was too much for even strong Victorian stomachs. It was covered up, and central Brussels has no open river to this day!
Part 2, to the north-west
Back to Midi for a spot of tiffin and to brave the other leg of the journey. The tram plunges underground as it starts its journey west to Berchem. There is just enough light to see a spaghetti junction of tunnels below before the tram emerges. (stop Lemonnier). This station has been charmingly decorated by artist, rockstar, children’s book writer and Belgo-Algerian polymath Hamsi Boubecker. Lemonnier’s Wikipedia entry contains this somewhat mysterious intelligence: “On a lower floor, there is an unused second station with two platforms. Between Anneessens and Lemonnier there is a tunnel towards this lower station.”
Having emerged from Lemonnier – the tram actually stops on a slope there – it trundles along the Midi Boulevard. Around are signs of massive construction. A new metro is being built, Line 3, to join up Albert in Forest/Vorst with Bordet station in Evere. Although passing right by Lemonnier, it will not use that station: a new one is being built, to be named after Belgian ace mouth organist Toots Thielemans. Back in the day, he was the superstars’ go-to session man and a fine jazz player in his own right. I first heard of him backing a John Denver LP so exquisitely that I had to check out his name on the cover.
About 500 metres further on there are two smallish, classical-looking buildings which sit incongruously right in the middle of the street (Porte d’Anderlecht/Anderlechtsepoort). I have often wondered at them so today I took a look.
Brussels is a town of eccentric museums, dedicated to puppets, fencing and fancy figurines, erotica and musical instruments. And then of course there is the Sewer Museum. Housed in two disused municipal customs’ houses (pavillons d’octroi) you go in one and out the other - via the aforementioned sewers. The price is €10 and students are free. This year they are in the middle of a special exhibition about the rat, entitled Rattus, which seeks, if not to rehabilitate, then at least to develop a deeper understanding of our symbiotic relationship with these resourceful and intelligent creatures.
A stop or two further, near the MIMA museum, the tram swings westward over the canal and the Écluse de Molenbeek, or Molenbeek Lock, and up the Chaussee de Ninove/Ninovensesteenweg. In 1876 Robert Louis Stevenson paddled his “canoe with a sail” from Antwerp to Brussels along this canal before hopping on a train to Maubeuge in France because of the sheer number of locks throughout Wallonia.
“Fifty-five locks in a day’s journey was pretty well tantamount to trudging the whole distance on foot, with the canoes upon our shoulders, an object of astonishment to the trees on the canal side, and of honest derision to all right-thinking children,” he wrote (his first book, An Inland Voyage and Travels with a Donkey, records his adventures in Belgium and France in this slightly foppish style.)
The tram halts in a handsome square (Duchesse de Brabant/Hertogin van Brabant) with its noble school facade on one side and a fine neo-Gothic church from 1867. On the day my tram went through, a Tuesday, the Molenbeek fruit and vegetable market was going like a dingbat: 200 or so stalls surrounded by good-natured but jostling crowds. Maghrebians in headscarves and djellabas climb aboard the 82, sit down thankfully, and discreetly caress shiny aubergines and rosy apples in their shopping bags with beatific smiles upon their faces.
Further up Ninove is a major Brussels transport hub (Gare de Ouest/Weststation). Originally built in 1872 as both a passenger and goods station for, obviously, the west of Brussels. The station stopped handling passengers in 1984 but started up again as part of the Brussels Regional Express Network. T
his is a laudable initiative to up public transport commuting from 20 to 40 percent. It needs upgrading of stations, widening of tunnels, and laying of tracks. However, the sheer political complexity of the Belgian state - agreement and funding must be sought from the federal government and three regions, and cooperation from four public transport companies - has led to considerable delays. Belgium’s international reputation for succeeding in impossibly complex and fraught negotiations is being severely put to the test.
Still, the metros, buses and trams congregate there in droves. All metro lines pass through there but be careful: moving from platforms 1/5 to 2/6 involves going upstairs, exiting one metro station, crossing a (conventional) railway bridge and re-entering the metro again. The trick is to change at neighbouring Beekkant where things are rather simpler.
Horta, Miranda and Van Damme
A bit further up is the Molenbeek cemetery which vouchsafes its name to the tram stop outside the main gate. It was founded in 1868 when the old parish churchyard became too small. Initially, the clergy reacted badly to this and briefly you could get yourself excommunicated by being buried there! This despite having for a while a special section for non-believers, fornicators, suicides, and paupers, known locally as “coin des gueux” - beggars’ corner.
Startlingly there is a police station built into the peripheral wall - one does not normally think of the dead as scofflaws! From the tram, the Koekelberg Basilica hovers impressively over the comparatively open graveyard. It has one elegant gravestone designed by Horta, no less, and a group of graves of Belgian soldiers who fought and fell at the Normandy beaches and beyond.
Touchingly their commander, Jean-Baptiste Piron, who took over as leader of the Free Belgians in 1944 after morale had collapsed and there had been a minor mutiny, is now buried with his fallen comrades. His grave is identical to those of the men who died in battle - a leader to the last! It is a peaceful and well-tended place in which to show a little respect.
The 82 terminates at Berchem station (Berchem Gare/Station) where the old railway building’s doors and windows have been unlovingly bricked up, a spanking new bus depot covers the station square, and a striking, swirling iron footbridge has been placed over the tracks.
However, in the village, there is a 12th century deconsecrated chapel, a renowned Art Nouveau house, Villa Marie-Mirande, and an internationally reputed 1925 housing project, Cité Moderne designed by modernist trailblazer Victor Bourgeois.
Each of the 250 or so social houses is cleverly designed to face the sun and has a private garden; revolutionary at the time. Not to mention the delightful Wilder Wood. Recorded as far back as the 13th century, denuded of its trees in World War II, and then rewilded before anyone had invented the term, it is a mini wonderland of frosted greenery on my visit.
The commune’s greatest claim to fame is arguably as the birthplace of Jean-Claude van Damme. Born to an accountant and a florist the so-called Muscles from Brussels took up karate and kickboxing at 10, won the Mr Belgium bodybuilding title, became the European karate champion, did five years ballet classes (he called ballet the best workout you can get), left for Hollywood, developed a well-thought-through self-promotion scheme, and eventually started getting bit parts in action movies.
The rest, as they say, is history. He has acted in more than 75 movies – but perhaps his most memorable performance was a viral YouTube ad doing the splits on the wing mirrors of two Volvo lorries.
There is something unusual, but little remarked, about Brussels. Something sui generis. It is not a city-state of course; it is the capital of a smallish European country.
It is not surrounded and limited by a larger state (Monaco), water (Singapore), or another city (the Vatican). But it is surrounded, and limited, by the vagaries of Belgium’s complex linguistic history. And, ironically, to a degree Belgian unity depends upon it – neither side would or could concede Brussels to the other. This means the bilingual island can have a tram which links two peripheral villages, Drogenbos and Berchem of differing linguistic structures.
Both are hemmed in, and to a degree defined by, business parks, ring roads, thundering lorries, whizzing company cars, and the fertile Flemish pajotenland which lies just beyond.