Starbucks-Free Zone

Believe it or not, the entire country of Belgium is almost entirely sans Starbucks.

Thanks, Julie! And welcome to Belgium, too.

Forecast: Rain All Week

After a beautiful weekend of lounging in the Bois de la Cambre and house hunting (more to follow), the weather has now reverted itself to what we were warned against: chronic rain.

The Bulletin was also so kind as to point out, in a lovely article by Leona Francombe, that "Belgium occupies roughly the same parallel as Irkutsk and Moose Jaw."

I believe we're in for a long, wet winter.

And I Got to Eat Matjes

Also known as herring.

Drinking Wine in the Rain

We went to the Châtelain market last night, which involved browsing stalls of produce, cheese, charcuterie and other delights - all without the politically correct smugness of an American greenmarket.

We then did as all the locals (read: expats) do and drank a glass of wine in the rain.

Not sure how high this experience ranks on the ALC (Authentic Local Color) scale, but it certainly was enjoyable.

Who Knew?

Falling under the category of news I would certainly remain oblivious to in the U.S.:
Croation federation fined for fans' racist behavior

Zebra-Themed Hall Decorations and Other Excesses of Charm

I have been spending my days pounding the pavement in search of an apartment. We were very excited about the prospect of inhabiting a traditional maison de maître bruxellois - until I encountered some of the specimens I have seen. Let's just say that this picture is an understated representation of these real estate gems - and that apparently beaucoup de charme generally means unrenovated and spectacularly tacky. Possibly haunted, too.

While viewing one of these apartments, I was informed that the upstairs neighbor is, in fact, a Duchess (Keira Knightley, I hope). The apartment itself could best be described as a nightmarish version of your Versailles-obsessed grandmother's digs. I was also told that the housekeeper (housekeeper?) who had recently been brought to Belgium from the Phillipines, could, for a fee, "help with extra ironing."

The best part was when I actually got to meet the Filipina housekeeper, who asked me whether I was Chinese, because, she said, pointing at her own eyes, "I can see it in your eyes." (Wow, haven't gotten that one since grade school.) I think (but am not sure) the exceedingly formal Belgian real estate broker was embarrassed.

Contribution from J

J wants me to share with you that the subway (which I have yet to brave) here smells like chocolate croissants. Not only that, but they apparently also play soft rock (J's favorite musical genre, I might add).

Seems like pure torture to me - someone who never wakes up on time to eat breakfast - having to endure a daily commute that not only sounds like Céline Dion, but also smells like pastries.

McCain asks for an extension

I know this financial meltdown is as big a deal as big deals get, but is McCain seriously asking for the debate to be postponed - even though it would be the perfect opportunity to present a "joint statement" aimed at resolving the debacle?

Too bad Obama already finished his homework and doesn't need an extension. What's next, McCain, your dog ate it?

I can already tell that following this nail-biting election from Brussels is going to result in a great deal of insomnia.

That G-D iTunes

Just for the record, it takes way too long to download Gossip Girl here. I just purchased it, and the current ETA of "The Dark Night" on my hard drive is: 9 hours remaining. Doesn't that kind of defeat the culture of instant gratification the show stands for in the first place?

What to Wear

Trench coat - Visual Dictionary - Copyright © 2005-2008 - All rights reserved.

Before I arrived, I was wondering whether people would wear trench coats as much as I expected them to. So far, the answer is yes.

What Would the Wallonians Think?

Just wondering whether Google Maps has purposefully chosen the side of the Flamands in the near-civil war being waged between French and Dutch-speaking Belgians. The reason I ask is that every time I use said program, it gives me the street names only in Dutch - even if I enter the name in French! While fairly harmless when the street is, say, Avenue Louise (or Louizalaan), this becomes significantly more confusing when we're talking about Rue Ducale (or Hertogsstraat).

Day 1: Panic Tourism

After arriving here yesterday morning, my mood has been what could best be described as bipolar: I've been vacillating between great excitement about what Brussels has to offer (like the cleverly designed mailboxes, left) and a range of more negative emotions, ranging from mild homesickness to outright panic.

In order to deny ourselves the opportunity to completely freak out, J and I embarked on an extensive walking tour of Ixelles - where we're staying on Avenue Louise - Chatelain, and Sablon (both Places Grand and Petit), eventually winding our way to the tourist-swarmed Grand Place, where we will not be making another appearance until our first visitor arrives or the Christmas market starts, whichever comes first.

Of course, we did not manage to do all of this without getting lost - or having a piece of beef chucked at us (specifically, J) while lost in Marolles. Along the way, we saw some nice examples of Art Nouveau, courtesy of a Lonely Planet walking tour (which should be an item on Stuff White People Like if it's not already).

At the end of the stroll, we had dinner in Place de Grand Sablon at a fairly nondescript brasserie across from Pierre Marcolini chocolates. The going price for moules frites seems to hover around €22, which was a little higher than I expected. While the food was good, I also wondered whether it will be one of those places we will chuckle at having dined on our first night a few years from now. After all, both J and I thought the Slaughtered Lamb was "authentic" when we first arrived in New York.