Belgian Waffles & Bike Tours (Brussels, BE)

Having visited other Belgian cities (well, mostly Bruges) several times over without having stopped to see Brussels, we decided to pay a visit to the capital city on our anniversary weekend. We booked our accommodations at the Hotel Metropole, a charming Art Noveau building that retains much of its pre-war styling, and signed up for both a bicycle tour of the city (the best way to site-see) and a chocolate tour, because Brussels lays claim to having the best chocolatiers in the world.

While Brussels has many of the same problems as other cities, like lack of cycling/pedestrian infrastructure, and many of the same problems as other European cities, small, winding cobblestone streets, they have put forth some effort into remedying this by creating car-free* pedestrian zones that span several city blocks. If you look close enough, you’ll notice these were once motor vehicle roads, but the city has installed creative seating, permanent recreational items like outdoor table tennis and Bocce courts, and an “open library” where people are encouraged to trade books amongst themselves. While there is no distinction between pedestrian and cycling portions of the promenade, it is wide enough that collisions didn’t seem to be a real problem.

*Taxis are permitted into the car-free zone during certain times to pick up hotel guests, but they need special permission from the business to whom they are catering.

Our first afternoon was pleasant, we got some fish and chips that were probably the best I’ve ever had (pending our visit to London in a couple months), and a Belgian waffle that had such a sheer amount of toppings that it was almost impossible to eat without embarrassing yourself and those around you.

The next day we set off to attend our tours. The forecast called for rain, and it did in fact rain. All day. Non-stop. While the Mrs. and I brought our water-repellant rain jackets, it was evident soon enough that they were inadequate in keeping us dry. Thankfully, the weather wasn’t especially chilly, so riding our bikes while completely soaked wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. The tour itself was a lot of fun; our tour guide was a Canadian who came to Belgium to study, and we met some people from the States who were in Europe on an extended business trip.

Our tour took us through several different parts of the city, starting in the Grand Place, which is the heart of historic Brussels and where many of the festivities take place, to the Mannequin Pis, more widely known as the fountain comprised of a little boy peeing, and to the headquarters of the European Parliament and the EU. We learned about the interesting history of Belgium and how its culture and architecture had been shaped by its various occupiers over the years, although France’s contribution seemed only to be the French language and destroying several beautiful buildings in the city center. C’est la vie. 

Around the middle of the day, we stopped at what our tour guide described as “the best frites [french fries] in Brussels”, so the Mrs. got in line to buy some while I grabbed a table inside the pub across the street. Getting out of the rain was nice, but the frites weren’t anything special. The La Chouffe I ordered, however, was delicious as always.

As our tour wrapped up and the rain kept on, we returned our bikes and awaited the start of our chocolate tour. Interestingly, the tour guide for this tour was also from Canada, because it was in fact the same woman. She had a change of clothes, however, whereas we we did not. So the chocolate tour was a little chilly for the two of us, but we managed to do okay.

After a full day of touring the city, we dried off in our hotel room and relaxed a bit before an unsuccessful venture to an Indian Food Festival, which sounded promising but was pretty disappointing. We did eventually eat Indian however, securing a table at a restaurant nearby. After dinner, the rain had stopped so we took a walk around the lamp-lit city, listening to the sounds of the Brussels nightlife and looking for a place to sit and have a drink ourselves. Ultimately, we settled for the terrace of our own hotel.

On our final day in Brussels, we checked out the René Magritte museum, which we both really enjoyed. Another artist the city lays claim to is Hergé, the cartoonist behind The Adventures of Tintin. You can see several large paintings throughout the city done in the style of a classic comic like the one in the photo above, paying homage to the city’s cartooning heritage.

I would definitely recommend Brussels Bike Tours for anyone wanting to get the most out of their visit to the city, and the cost is only €25 (though as you’ve seen, it is rain-or-shine). More information is available at brusselsbiketours.com.

 

- Bicyclist Abroad

 

Gulfport, Mississippi / The Road to Nowhere

There is a certain satisfaction in seeing something in part, and then, seeing it entirely. You have an opportunity to imagine what you cannot see, filling in the void with endless possibilities. Maybe you imagine, as I did, that the random bicycle path you picked on a map will lead you to Voodoo Doughnuts; maybe your imagination was in fact, creepily accurate. When you finally see the forest for more than the trees, you gain perspective. Or, at the very least, you can figure out where the hell you are.

The bicycle route sidewalk I’ve been taking through Biloxi to Ocean Springs for the last few weeks also runs West, following US 90 until it terminates somewhere before Louisiana. I could have looked at Google Maps to find out exactly where I would end up had I decided to head in that direction, but what’s the fun in that? So I decided to take the trusty Dahon on it’s longest jaunt yet: to the end of the sidewalk.

The fact of the matter here is that there is an ocean on one side of you, and a highway on the other. Not much more can be said of it, unless you want to hear a description of the subtle hues in the sky and the feelings I feel when the wind blows a summer breeze (it makes me feel fine). There are many portions where the transition from one patch of sandy concrete to another patch of sandy concrete is a little less than delicate, but I’m on a Dahon with 20” BMX tires, I’ll be A-OK. Now, the guy I passed on skinny road slicks and TT aero bars (yes, also riding on the same “bike path”) well, he’s very possibly now deceased.

As I made my way, passing beach-goers and a giant military-industrial-complex-themed retirement home, I did notice something very much out of place:

Did you spot it? Between those two cars driving at felony speeds. Let me zoom in for you:

“SHARE THE ROAD.” Yes, please-- and thank you very much. That looks like a bike lane! How excited am I to finally find a road that affords me my very own lane. This was, however, not the end of the sidewalk, and I had miles still to go. I’ll check it out on my way back, I thought to myself. Something to look forward to. I pedaled on.

The sidewalk continues on and eventually merges with the spaghetti bowl of pedestrian/bicycle leisure paths of Jones Park. We’re now officially in Gulfport. This park was nice; there was the giant pavilion above, a couple piers to fish off of, an ice cream man in his ice cream truck and plenty of “green space”. After meandering for a minute or two, I reached the western-most portion of the park and suddenly realized that this was it. The path ends here. If I wanted to continue to ride, I would need to take normal roads and join the parade of motor vehicles we refer to as “traffic”. I’m here, I might as well check out what Gulfport is all about, and it was about lunchtime, so I found what appeared to be the main street and moseyed on into town in search of equal parts food and cultural understanding.

Not a whole lot beyond an Oyster House and a Sonic, as far as I could tell. I did find the local library, though, and figured I would use one of their computers to a.) write a quick message to the Mrs. in the event a pickup truck with a confederate flag and muddin’ tires prevents me from doing so at a later point in time, and b.) search Urban Spoon for a decent place to eat.

Finding a place to lock up my bike was proving to be difficult. There were no bike racks, nor railings, nor chain-link fences that would accommodate my diminutive U-Lock, so I had to get creative. Finding a wooden post in the ground, I unfolded the Dahon and locked it to itself, a la a double-jointed escape artist.

The tortured soul.

I wrote my message to the Mrs. and Urban Spoon’d a local vegetarian restaurant called Good Karma, and continued on my way. [The restaurant, I would find, was actually out of food by the time I got there, but all was well, because they gave me some tea and a cookie and didn’t charge me for it. Something something something karma.]

Having had my fill of Gulfport, I rode eastward, back towards the mysterious bike lane. Where did it go? I was very excited to find out… up until the point I discovered that it leads to absolutely nowhere.

 

Sure, it looks like a legitimate bike lane, and technically it is, but the more I followed it, the more I suspected the city had a bicycle stencil and a surplus of road paint, and they just kept painting the shoulder until they ran out. Or got bored. Because after six or so miles of increasing nothingness, I came to what appeared to be a highway on-ramp with bicycle stencils on its shoulder.

Yeah, I quit. It was time to turn back around. I’m not sure what I expected, but I don’t think it was to be led out into the bayous of Mississippi just to get on an interstate…on a bicycle. I rode back south towards the Gulf and back onto the familiar sidewalk that takes me to Biloxi.

Even though I was ultimately disappointed in the destination, the journey itself wasn’t bad. I mean, I got to ride for quite a while on a lane designated for bicycles, so that was kind of a treat compared to feeling marginalized(literally) on the regular streets. And if anything, I increased awareness of other cyclists on the road, as I’m sure people drive up and down this stretch regularly without ever seeing someone actually use the bike lane.

So I officially retract my previous statements about Mississippi not including bicycles in their infrastructure. They do make accommodations for bicyclists—they just suck at doing it.

 

- Bicyclist Abroad Domestic