Brussels- Heavenly Chocolate & Amazing Beer

I'm sitting in my room at the Hotel Francois looking out of my window at the view in the picture to the right. I found this tiny charming place whose location is in the Quartier Saint-Gery neighborhood where there are lots of cafes, pubs and little shops. It's bustling with activity on the cobbled streets. I love it here- but not at first.

While taking the train here I had a reserved seat in a compartment with three other people. I was seated next a guy that turned out to be from Kenya. We started talking and he told me he played football for his national team and had also spent some time in Kentucky (why??) playing American soccer. We also talked about politics back in Africa, refugee issues, Obama and some of the profiling annoyances he goes through while he's in Europe. (He was the only one in our compartment to have his passport checked out of 2 mature white people and me). All is going well and then he seems to get comfortable. He moves into that conversation territory where he's trying to to get a footing and either shock me or impress me. I decide the friendly banter is over and when he asks me a question about what I like to do I tell him "read my book", give him the withering look and with that conversation is over. Done and done. (And for those of you that keep telling me to be safe- he was staying on the train to Paris when I got off)

Arrival in Brussels is kinda mad. The Midi station is teeming with people looking for ways to pickpocket or steal your stuff. They're loud, disruptive and usually in pairs. I'm on high alert and keep my important pack on my front always moving with purpose as if I KNOW where I'm going and belong in Brussels. Oh yeah- and those people get my "I know what you're up to" look too!

I go downstairs to the subway and take the train to the Bourse stop for my guesthouse. After a quick check in (I called from the stop and the girl actually walked to lead me back) I headed out for a walk.

Ah sweet Brussels. Chocolate-chocolate-chocolate. I went for the waffle with chocolate syrup from a street vendor and promptly got it all over my face and fingers. It was heavenly. There was an outdoor street market/garage sale down some little alleys that I perused. I even ran into a parade with several marching bands. At one point the parade was stopped and the band put down their instruments, took off the hats and lit up for a smoke until they moved on. Only in Europe does the marching band take a smoke break.