Welcome to Brussels! Good Luck Getting Home...

We had planned a long weekend in Brussels because we had heard that the Christmas markets there were quite nice, and it was easy to get to by train -- which is often faster and cheaper than flying.  We had initially hoped to go to Germany, which has the most Christmas-y markets of them all, but the cost was prohibitive by the time we got around to planning the trip.  But since we both love chocolate and waffles, and speak a little French, Brussels seemed like a good alternative.

We arrived at the Gare du Midi in Brussels around 5:30 pm and made our way down to the subway station underneath.  We knew which station our hotel was near, but weren't quite sure the best way to get there.  Josh bought tickets from a machine while I tried to find a map.  No sign of one posted anywhere in the station.  And when I asked one of the station attendants for a printed one, he said they didn't have any.  When I pressed him about where I could find a map, he asked, "What do you need it for?"  Seriously?  This is an international train station full of tourists.  Wouldn't it be helpful to have a metro system map posted somewhere so they can figure out how to get where they need to go?  Maybe he misunderstood -- his English wasn't great, and neither is my French -- but this was not a great start to our weekend in Brussels.  And it only got worse...

We made our way down to what we thought was the correct platform.  Once again, no map.  Just a list of train numbers and stations.  I didn't see the station we needed to get to listed there, so I asked Josh if he was sure we were in the right place.  He pulled his iPad out of his backpack and loaded the tiny Brussels metro map he had downloaded before we left and checked it against the sign.  A friendly bystander with his two small children asked if we needed any help, so we told him where we were trying to go, and he confirmed that while the trains on this platform didn't stop there (despite what it looked like on the map), we could get off at another station that was only a few blocks away and walk from there.  A train was approaching, so Josh went to put his iPad back in his backpack, which he had set down on the chair behind him.  It was gone.

After a few frantic moments trying to find it and questioning uninterested bystanders, Josh ran back up to the station to find a police officer while I waited with our luggage.  While we still had our wallets, cell phones, iPad, and camera, the backpack contained Josh's work laptop and both of our passports.  Not good.  The friendly man offered to stay with me until Josh returned, but since he had two restless little kids with him, I said I'd be OK.  He gave me his business card and told me to call or email if we needed any help before herding his kids onto the train.  Glad to know there is at least one good person in Brussels.

I waited for what seemed like an eternity as trains and passengers came and went.  Josh had to wait in line to file a police report as there were several other people who had just been robbed in the station.  Some even had their luggage stolen while they were using the ticket machines!  I texted him the after-hours emergency number for the US Embassy in Brussels, so he called them while he was waiting and was instructed to show up there first thing on Monday morning with completed forms (available online) and passport photos.  Then he had to go to the Eurostar office and change our return tickets, since we were planning to return to London Sunday evening as Josh had a full day of meetings scheduled on Monday.  They confirmed that we would not be allowed to board the train to London without passports, so we were stuck in Brussels until we could get new ones.  What a mess!

By the time we got to our hotel, we were cold, hungry, and utterly exhausted.  The people at the reception desk were very sympathetic when we told them what had happened, and said they would extend our reservation another night.  At least the hotel cheered us up a little.  It was more like a large B&B, and was literally right across the street from one of the big Christmas markets.  Each of the rooms at the Welcome Hotel is decorated in the theme of a different country that the owner has visited, complete with items he has brought back from his travels.  We were in the Zanzibar room, which was decorated in peacock blue, complete with a peacock painted on the door.

The door to our room (interior)

It was quite a contrast to our rather bland, poorly lit -- but well-appointed -- room in Paris, with colorful tile, fabrics, and lanterns and a trompe l'oeil mural on the wall above the bed.  It was small, but had all the basic necessities, plus free wifi and breakfast.

The Zanzibar room

After dropping off our luggage, we headed back out in search of dinner, which took us through the Christmas market across the street.  We weren't really in the mood for shopping, but took in some of the sights...

Santa and the Christmas Ice Monster

Ferris Wheel

Awesome steampunk carousel!

Because it was a Friday night and we were right by the Christmas market, many of the restaurants were crowded, but we eventually found a table at a pizza place and soothed our growling tummies and frazzled nerves with comfort food, Belgian beer, and Italian wine.

Saturday we resolved to put our unpleasant arrival out of our minds and just enjoy the day.  It was cold, gray, and drizzly, but we braved the dreary weather to take a walking tour of the city and enjoy the holiday decorations.

Floating men

We eventually found ourselves in the Galeries Royales Saint-Hubert, which is a beautiful 19th-century covered arcade full of high-end shops, cafes and theaters.

Josh braves the shopping arcade

It was bustling with tourists and holiday shoppers looking for a refuge from the weather (like us), and is a great place for window shopping for the products Belgium is famous for:

Lace

Chocolate

Jewelery (those are earrings on the tiny table)

Brussels was another center of Art Nouveau architecture, particularly by Belgian architect Victor Horta, so we enjoyed spotting examples as we walked around the city.  Here are some other photos from our wanderings...

Park and museum

Glockenspiel

Art Nouveau buildings

Museum of Musical Instruments

Antiques market

Palace of Justice

View from Palace of Justice

More Art Nouveau

Memorial park

Knit hats that look like baby clothes

More Art Nouveau

Tintin!

Near the town center is the famous Mannekin Pis fountain.  It's hard to imagine that this used to be a source of water for the people of Brussels.  Who would want to drink from a fountain that depicts a naked little boy peeing?  Nowadays, the little boy is rarely naked, as he has an extensive wardrobe of custom-made costumes.  On this particular day, he was dressed for the season, because nothing says "Christmas" like St. Nicholas taking a piss on a street corner.

Mannekin Pis as St. Nick

We found ourselves in the Grand Place just as it was starting to get dark, and were treated to a lovely light and music show.

Town Hall

Town Hall and Guildhalls

Christmas tree and snow globe

Town Hall

Tree and light posts

We had a late dinner at a traditional Flemish restaurant near our hotel, and then hit the Christmas market for dessert.

Outside our hotel, with Xmas market in background

Belgian waffle with chocolate, strawberries, and whipped
cream.  YUM!!!

Not only did the market have a giant Ferris wheel and awesome carousel, but there was a huge skating rink in the middle of the square.

Ice rink

Sunday morning we got back to business and downloaded the forms we needed to get temporary passports at the US Embassy, and emailed them to the lady at the front desk to print out for us.  Then we set out in search of a place to take passport photos, only to discover that all the local photo shops were closed on Sunday.  Doh!  Fortunately, the tourist info office was open, and the lady there suggested trying the photo booth in a nearby metro station.  For 5 euros (about $6.50) each, we got just what we needed.  Well, my first set turned out so bad (I looked green!) that Josh gave me another 5 euros to retake them -- and if you know what a cheapskate Josh is, that says a lot.  The lighting in these booths is not very flattering!

Don't smile!

With that out of the way, we headed back to the Grand Place to meet an old family friend of mine for lunch.  Twricy Hsu (pronounced "Tracy Shu") was a student of my parents when I was just 5 or 6 years old.  Originally from Taiwan, she became an honorary member of our family while she was studying at Fresno State, and my parents kept in touch after she went off to grad school and married a fellow student from Belgium.  We visited her in Belgium when I was a teenager, but we hadn't seen one another for 25 years, so it was quite a reunion!  She looked exactly the same, while I'm sure I've changed quite a bit...

Naina and Twricy in the Grand Place

We had a delicious lunch of traditional Flemish food at the restaurant T Kelderke, which is in a cellar underneath one of the guildhall buildings in the square.

In the Grand Place by the Christmas tree

Then we walked around the city center together for a little while, stopping at a cafe to warm up with some Belgian waffles and hot drinks.  Yum!

Mmmmm...  Waffle with strawberries and warm chocolate sauce...

It was wonderful to see Twricy after so many years, and we promised to plan another trip to Belgium before we left London so we could visit her in Leuven, which is just west of Brussels.

In the evening, we walked through the Christmas market by our hotel, and then wandered back towards the Grand Place to visit the other Christmas market we had seen by the Bourse (stock exchange).

Christmas market at St Katherine's Place

The Bourse, lit up, and another Christmas market

It was a drizzly Sunday evening, so the masses of humanity we had waded through the previous evening were somewhat diminished and we were able to get a better view of the festivities.

Nativity scene with live sheep

Light and music show in the Grand Place

We woke up early Monday morning, gathered up our paperwork and passport photos, and headed out to the US Embassy, which was mercifully only 3 metro stops from our hotel.  It was still dark out when we arrived shortly before 8 am, and we were the second and third people in line when they finally let us in about 20 minutes later.  We had to go through a security screening and a metal detector, and had to leave everything but our paperwork with the security guards -- no cell phones, cameras, iPads, etc. were allowed inside.  We took a number from a little machine by the door, where you push a button to indicate the purpose of your visit -- visa application, passport services, etc. -- just like at the DMV.  The guy in front of us must have been there for a visa, as we were numbers 401 and 402.  Then we sat and waited for our numbers to be called.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, around 10:20 am, Josh asked the cashier if she had any idea how much longer we would have to wait, and if we might have time to run out and grab some breakfast, as we didn't have time to eat beforehand and we were starving.  (Our hotel didn't start serving breakfast until 8)  She was very apologetic and said the Consular Officer didn't show up for work until 10 am and went straight into a meeting, so we could probably leave as long as we were back by 11.  Then she suggested we write to our congressman to complain.  Yeah, I'm sure that would make a difference.  We grabbed some croissants from a small cafe across the street, and then came back and waited some more.

All the visa applicants had come and gone, and all that remained in the room were other Americans who had also had their passports stolen over the weekend.  We heard similar stories  -- one woman had her wallet and passport stolen out of her backpack while she was holding it in front of her on a crowded metro train.  Another man had his bag stolen from right under his feet as he was using the men's room at the train station.  A third has his suitcase stolen while he was using the ticket machine at the station. Clearly, they have a serious problem with theft in Brussels.

We started getting a little peeved as people with higher numbers got called in before us.  By the time they called #401, it was 11:30 am.  The Consular Officer was somewhat apologetic for the delay, but only because she didn't see the "Urgent" sticker on our form -- not because she didn't even start processing applications until 11 am.  She spent about 2 minutes having us swear an oath and sign a form, and then told us we would have our temporary passports within the next 30 minutes.

An HOUR later, we finally left the embassy with our temporary passports.  Apparently the US will only issue and print passports in the US, so if you apply for one overseas, you have to do it by mail and wait for them to send it to you.  In an emergency, they will issue you a temporary passport, which looks just like a real one but with fewer pages, and is only valid for one year.  During that time, you must go through the application process all over again to get a real passport, so our ordeal was far from over -- in more ways than one.

We hurried back to our hotel, where we were supposed to have checked out of our room by noon.  Fortunately, we had requested a late check-out and packed most of our things before we left, just in case, so while someone had already cleaned the room, our luggage was still there.  We left our bags with the front desk and went off in search of lunch.

St Katherine's Place, where our hotel was located, used to have a canal running through it, and was once a popular fish market.  It is surrounded by seafood restaurants, many with big red neon lobsters advertising their menu.  Since I don't like seafood, and most of them were quite expensive, we ended up getting soup and a Belgian waffle from stalls at the Christmas market instead.  Yummy, and quite a bargain in comparison.

Lobster, anyone?

We also got a closer look at the amazing steampunk carousels we had spotted earlier.  They were made in the 90's in France by Les Maneges d'Andrea, and are the coolest carousels we have ever seen.  Here are some photos of one of them.  The rocket is on a hydraulic lift that goes all the way up through a hole in the roof!

I have never used this function on my camera before, but I felt compelled to take a video of both carousels the previous evening.  Sorry about the video quality, but this is my very first attempt at taking a video and the conditions were not ideal.  (I also had to teach myself how to use iMovie and upload it to YouTube -- I'm a little behind the curve...)  Keep an eye on the rocket, and you can see it lift off.  The little boy inside was having the time of his life!

We collected our luggage from the hotel and took the metro to the train station, keeping a close eye on our belongings.  We arrived at 3:00 to catch a 4:00 train back to London, but hit yet another snag.  Although no one even asked for our passports when traveling from Paris to Brussels, you must pass through border control before boarding a train to the UK.  When the officer asked how long we intended to stay in the UK, we explained that we were resident there (we didn't think it would be wise to lie in this situation), but that our passports containing our immigration visas had been stolen.  He said he'd need to verify our immigration status, and asked us to have a seat, pointing to an area off to the side with two folding chairs, both of which were occupied. 

The occupants turned out to be a Japanese couple in the same boat.  They also lived in London, but their passports had been stolen at the Christmas market, so they didn't have their immigration visas, either.  The four of us waited for over an hour while everyone else boarded the train and left.  Finally, we were told that they had verified our status and rebooked us on the 6 pm train.  They stamped our passports to indicate we have a visa, so at least this won't happen again -- until we get our new ones.

We were very happy to finally find ourselves back in our little house in Wimbledon later that night, at the end of what would have been a wonderful trip.  We unpacked our souvenirs -- chocolates, Christmas gifts, and paranoia -- and went to bed.