He was 6'4" and plenty of muscles...

I said do you speak-a my language, he just smiled and gave me a Vegemite sandwich.

Ah Brussels, an amazing and beautiful city that honestly would probably bore the living hell out of you if you spent more than a day there.  However, the birthplace of the Smurfs and, more importantly, JCVD is well worth the day trip that I took at the end of my first week abroad.  How did this all come about, well upon my departure to Frankfurt it came to my attention that my good buddy Andy would be in Belgium during my first week abroad and after connecting with him it was decided that I would shoot up to Brussels  to meet up that Saturday so we could enjoy some of the finer Belgian brews and see what sort of trouble two fun loving Buckeyes could get into for one night in Brussels.

So there it was a 6am train on a Saturday morning taking me to Brussels just in time to meet up with Andy in front of the Grand Palce and take what would be an adventurous bike tour throughout the city.  On a side note, for anyone who is going to be traveling through Europe, bike tours are the way to go.  You generally hit all of the major highlights of the city in about 4 hours or so and then can take the time to go back to any you want to see in detail or just have more time to sample the local fare and see what trouble you can get yourself into.  This bike tour was basically the same with the exception of a few miscues along the way, the first being my fault.  So about 5 minutes into the morning's ride I see a can in front of me and it seemed like a tremendous idea for me to run over said can while wistfully exclaiming "nailed it" much to Andy's delight.  Well about another 5 minutes after my transformation into a 8 year old I realized that I was riding right on the rim of the bike, so a quick detour back to the bikery it was for a new set of wheels for this guy, and then quickly off to see Mannequin Pis.

Grand Palce @ night

Mannequin Pis, smaller than you expect

So quickly on Mannequin Pis, it is super duper small and the day we were there he was all duded up in the garb of some engineering fraternity in Belgium and they were drinking beer from him.  While I am not so sure how sanitary this was it seemed like a pretty cool idea.  So off again through Brussels taking in all of the sites being led by this crazy Belgian dude who hated the French more than any human being I have ever met.  Literally at each stop he had some sort of dig to make against the Frenchies, which were all fairly hilarious.  Now I say he was crazy because on most of the bike tours you take in Europe the guides realize that most of the people on the trek don't ride bikes on a daily basis and keep the pace as such...not this dude, hetreating this as his own personal Tour de Brussels and even commented a few times about how he was impressed that we kept up with him because he generally leaves a few people in his dust while on tour.  Now, if I were a tour guide I may take that as a sign that I would need to adjust my habits, but no worries it wasn't a major problem for 99% of the ride.  Oh that sneaky 1%; so on the home stretch back to the bike shop, we were flying down a hill and making a left hand turn, well one of the fellow tour riders failed to see the raised lane dividers in the road that the rest of us were avoiding and well, let's just say that bike Supermaned dat ho...over the handlebars onto the curb.  So with her pants in shreds and claiming that the arm was potentially broken (she could move it so I doubt it) she asked old boy Lance Belgium to grab her some ice for her arm, which led to the hilarious sight of the tour guide walking back down the street with a handful of ice to give to her.  Seeing this I ran into a store to procure a plastic bag for the ice...all in all it was a comedy of errors with this guy.  At any rate the lady eventually decided to get on her train to Paris and seek any further medical attention there and Andy and I were free to get on with exploring the city.

First stop, back to a bar near the Grand Palce for what turned out to be a few too many Belgian brews and a great conversation about how surreal it was that two kids from Cleveland were sitting a world away drinking amazing beers in an amazing setting (the plaza next to the Grand Palce is truly striking).  Next stop Cafe Leon for mussels and frites, and let me just say it was fantastic.  Nothing like a steamed batch of mussels and garlic with a pile of Belgian frites and a beer.  Damn good meal and a perfect base for the high octane beers that would ensue at Delerium Cafe, home to the world record for beers in one place with over 2,000.  Nothing overly eventful happened there other than the consumption of more and more brews and the inevitable decision that we needed to make our way to the casino near the hotel.

Cleveland chapter of Gamblers Anonymous 

So casinos in Brussels are pretty much like they are everywhere else with the exception of no craps tables...seriously, black jack and roulette...what a crock.  Well at any rate, I expected to make my way to the blackjack tables to find a seat and teach these little Belgians a lesson in winning...what I didn't expect to happen was verbal warfare over this game.  So, about 30 minutes or so into the table I am sitting on a soft 18 against the dealer showing 8, so I decide to hit...maybe not the greatest move in the book but a totally allowable one.  Well the dude to my left decides to take massive exception to my play and starts complaining to the table about it in English no less (I honestly think he thought I didn't speak English), so he was a little surprised when I turned to him and politely said, "Why don't you play your FUCKING hand and I will play mine."  So he quickly shut up until two hands later when he hit a 15 against a 4...seriously who does that?  So I began to mock him in his similar fashion which he didn't like so much so after a few jabs back and forth I decided to proclaim that the table was full of amateurs and left to find Andy.*

*Note: you never actually come to blows inside a casino...worst decision you could ever make.

So after finding Andy and realizing that collectively we were down a fair amount it was decided that we needed to make a comeback on this place, and wouldn't you know it a sign appeared at this time that made me think, yes the tides are turning...the opening beats to Empire State of Mind!  I figured with Jay-Z on the speakers there was no way I could lose...so there I was about to drop some sick rhymes and win some fat stacks of cash when I realized that this was not H to the Izzo, nope it was some dude rapping in French...wtf?  Turns out that some jackwaggon Belgian covered Empire State of Mind into Brussels State of Mind...Yeah you're in Brussels...pomme frite jungle where Smurfs have came from, Jean Claude will impale you, now your in Brussels, the filthy streets will disease you, and vagrants will rob you, now you're in Brussels, Brussels, Brussels...rough translation of the French rapper.  So needless to say all energy was zapped after hearing this song, and down but not out and definitely three sheets we decided to retire to the hotel and grab a McRib.

So one night in Brussels and I learned a few things about this fair city:
1. Mannequin Pis - kinda cool but about as impressive as the knock off Clayton has in the back yard
2. Belgian Bike Tours - ride at your own risk, seriously.
3. Delirium Cafe is seriously awesome...if you have a day the city is worth it for that place alone.
4. Belgian casinos are just pretty much just like American casinos without craps...which makes them pretty crappy...zing!
5. Brussels State of Mind < Empire State of Mind

Two quick notes to end, I don't know how many posts I will start with a song lyric but I kind of like it and may keep it up.  Second, I don't edit myself so if the story doesn't make sense, too bad.