If Paris and Amsterdam had a love child, Brussels would be their grounded, unflashy offspring.
Words by Kristina Chetcuti
the child who rebels against the grandeur and spectacle of its parents. Yes, the charm of Brussels lies in its un-flashiness; in its invitation to look inward. Read between the lines for an introspective view of the Belgian capital city. “What colour is the sky in Brussels today, Aunty Kiki?” That’s the question my five-year-old nephew asks me each time he Facetimes me with the Maltese blue sky as his backdrop. There are so many times you can say “grey”. So, I’ve taken to scrutinising the shades. “Ah, it’s charcoal today!” Sometimes, if we’re lucky, it’s smoky-white, or lilac grey. It’s also been platinum, blue-grey, cool-grey. His favourite? Batman-grey.
This is what Brussels does to you – it trains you to see the fine hues in what might otherwise be monochrome. It forces you to shift your perspective. To un-complain. To properly notice. The city makes you hopeful. Even when it’s endlessly overcast, you know that one day, the sun will come out. Sure, it might take three long weeks, but then the joy that is spread by its rays beats that of endless summer days on a beach. My relationship with Brussels has been an on-again, off-again affair for more than 25 years. In the early days, there was no love lost between us. I visited regularly, oscillating between the Grand-Place, the crowded centremost square in the oldest part, and the modern, glass-heavy EU quarters. Neither warmed the cockles of my heart. But moving here nearly three years ago changed everything. I could finally get a feel of its pulse. And the Brussels vibe is… slow pace. If Paris and Amsterdam had a love child, Brussels would be their grounded, unflashy offspring; the child who rebels against the grandeur and spectacle of its parents. It does not have their pressing need to dazzle or impress. Its confidence is understated, and its beauty and culture are tucked away – to be found only by those who take the time to look. There’s no fanfare announcing great art; you just stumble upon it consistently as you meander down the streets – an Art Nouveau façade here, an Art Deco bâtiment there. The city rewards you for paying attention. Not surprisingly, people here don’t hurry – they amble. They refuse to rush. It took me a while to stop tsk-tsking: “Don’t these people have anywhere to be?” And an even longer while to stop pushing past and take my time.
Belgians savour their laid-back moments. Take Sundays. Away from Grand-Place, restaurants and shops are shut. This is a city where life, not consumerism, rules. Sunday is a day for eating at home, for slowing down. Or for going to the park. As the greenest capital in the EU, the parks seamlessly thread the urban fabric, some leading to the magical, mystical Ice-Age-old Sonian Forest. The charm of Brussels is in its un-flashiness; in its invitation to look inward. For me, this meant rethinking my life. It’s here that I decided to take my work onto a new path and retrain as a health coach, embracing the fundamentals of what really matters and supporting others to do so too. Brussels has taught me to stop rushing. To savour. To hope. It’s a city that makes you look twice – at its streets, its skies and, eventually, at yourself.
What to buy
> Flowers from Atelier de la Rose in Rue de Namur. This is one of my favourites but there are flower shops at every corner, all selling fresh seasonal blooms in minimalist French wrapping. This is a nation of flower givers for every occasion.
> Chocolates from La Maison Wittamer in Place du Grand Sablon. These are the real thing – they not only have my seal of approval but also King Philippe’s Royal Warrant of Appointment.
> Wooden toys from Serneels in Avenue Louise. This shop and its jaw-dropping window displays have been enchanting young (and old) customers since 1959. Yes, there is a world for children sans technology.
> Books from Librairie Candide in Rue Emile Bouilliot. They’re in French but you won’t even care – the shop, with its wooden flooring and its immaculately curated displays, makes you want to move in permanently.
> Stationery from Le Typographe in Rue Américaine. Whoever thought that stationery can be an art in itself? If you’re not a stationery addict, this is where you’ll become one.
> Bicycles from Lucien Flagship Store in Rue Américaine for all shapes and sizes. This showroom-shop is an ode to the two-wheeler and its multitude of accessories that enable a whole family to fit on one bike.
Where to walk, cycle or run
> Bois de la Cambre – a vast expanse which then opens up into the Sonian Forest.
> Parc Tenbosch – full of little winding pathways and cosy reading spots.
> Parc du Cinquantenaire – if you run/walk/jog, this is the place to be.
What to listen to
> Le Plat Pays (1962) by Jacques Brel – he talks about the permanent low, grey sky, so grey “qu’il faut lui pardonner” (that we must forgive it).
> Bruxelles je t’aime (2021) by Angèle – she says: “We're not the city of love, but hey, you see… after the storm, people will party with beers.”
What to see
> Manneken Pis (folklore has it that the statue was put up by a Duke whose son got lost and who vowed he would erect a statue in the state he found the boy in. As it happened, he found him while he was having a wee).
As an egalitarian city, Brussels has also put up a girl, the Jeanneke Pis, and last but not least, the Zinneke Pis (modelled on the artist’s own pet dog). All three are worth a visit to truly understand the Belgian humour.
> René Magritte is another sample of Belgian humour. There’s a whole museum dedicated to the surrealist artist’s work – the centrepiece being his classic, tongue-in-cheek painting Ceci n’est pas une pipe – a pipe that claims it isn’t.
> Horta Museum – the family house and workshop of architect Victor Horta, built between 1898 and 1901, is Art Nouveau at its most simplistically dazzling, right down to the metal artwork of the radiators.
Where to eat
> The Sister Brussels Café, Rue Chair et Pain, an organic spot with delicious home-made food, in the Grand-Place area.
> Belgian chips: There’s fierce competition for the best frites between Maison
Antoine on the Place Jourdan and Frit Flagey in Place Flagey. Angela Merkel and Johnny Depp had theirs at Antoine’s. For both, you have to queue, but it’s less than a fiver and you certainly won’t need to eat again for some time.
> Humus x Hortense, Rue de Vergnies. For more special moments, head to
this Michelin-star restaurant. The chef has been championing plant- based cuisine long before it became trendy. The pioneering vegan dishes are a class of their own.
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