I was bored, the weather was good, my bicycle beckoned, and my phone has GPS… this was the chain of causes for my attempt at geocaching today, and I’m very glad that all these things came together. Since I’m probably not best placed to try to explain something I’ve only just tried, I’ll let YouTube take over for a moment:

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I have nothing against Mobistar, but I have had interactions with companies here in Belgium which rise to this level of frustration.

After it though, I was left thinking, “poor Mathieu!”. He deserved the FNAC voucher!

Yesterday, I tweeted my despair at the entrance to the Waterstone’s best-seller list of a book tie-in to the Compare the Market adverts which have been airing on British TV lately. I can understand the entertainment value of books written to tie into actual programmes or films—I’m not a snob in this regard, such books can extend the ‘enchantment’ of the main production, and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of entertainment—but I cannot fathom why anyone would want to buy a glorified advert! To say that it’s testament to the destruction of meaningful culture in favour of mammon-worship is perhaps a little clichéd, the sort of unthinking, which all too often laces political discourse; there is certainly some basis for concern over the trends in society and our culture, which the success of such an advertisement, masquerading as literature, signals.

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I ask for forgiveness from any Belgians who may happen to read this post, but as I’ve been enjoying the last few days of my summer holiday, wandering around Brussels, enjoying discovering where to buy the UK edition of The Guardian (as opposed to the overpriced and under-filled international edition), attempting, thus far unsuccessfully to find beer in a bar for less than €4, and all the other things that have filled my first weeks in Belgium, a question has pushed its way into the front of my mind. Sometimes it makes its entrance as I am walking through De Brouckère Metro station, or as I wander through the dust at the side of the road at Schumanplein. Other times it manifests itself in my thoughts as I attempt to navigate an oversized road junction on my bicycle, especially one such as Naamsepoort, where the road markings seem to have been forgotten.

This question is one which will—and I think I can say this with a certainty—offend the native Bruxellois, and probably most Belgians, but so often has it formed itself, that it must be asked: do the people of Brussels have any pride in their city, and in how it is perceived by the thousands of foreigners who call it home, or pass through in the course of politics or business?

Belgium seems a strange country. It is somewhere that one can obtain rail discounts for “patriotic reasons”, according to the online ticketing system of NMBS/SNCB. Brussels is, as any national capital is, stuffed with the instruments of patriotism: the flags, triumphal arches, grand parks, palaces, and statues of poets, statesmen, officers, and other figures of great national importance. Yet it simultaneously manages to welcome international visitors to Brussel Zuid/Bruxelles Gare du Midi*, a station which, it must be said, ranks alongside Sofia Central Station and London Euston in terms of making a good first impression and being a friendly entrance to the city. The city manages to leave large sections of pavements, even right in the heart of Europe at Schumanplein, made of nothing but soil, while roadworks drag on, and in the case of Tour et Taxis, doesn’t seem to see the need for paving in the first place. It seems incapable of understanding the needs of cyclists (hint: with a major junction, especially where it processes the mini motorway of the Kleine Ring, bikes need dedicated facilities), or that the Metro can be annoying to use when the stations have grown into a confusing mess of conflicting signs, and various extensions and additions.

I don’t dislike Brussels, and I can’t pass judgement on Belgium more widely because so far, Brussels is all I know of this country, but this is a difficult city to like

* Inducting new visitors straight into the language mess of België/Belgique, especially when someone feels the need to turn all the signs to display only Dutch.

I really never thought that finding somewhere to live would be as hard as it has been, but there you go, that’s life. Thankfully I’ll be moving into an apartment right in the centre of Brussels tomorrow, with the chance to unpack all my boxes of stuff, and get settled down for a few months. I think I’m getting used to the contrast between Belgium and the Netherlands now; I seem to find the country (by which I mean Brussels, the rest of Belgium is essentially non-existant to me at the moment) to be less irritating. Of course it could just be that I’m a bit busier with preparing to start work and catching up on all the Party stuff that I let slip during the dark days of the thesis-time. (more…)