I **** You Not!
We get to the train station.
"Let's go to Brussels. It's only a couple of stops away, and I want you to see the Square."
Okay, I'm game. We didn't have to be back at the main station until 4:30 for the Chunnel ride, so why not?
Now, Belgium stations are quite nice, and there are several types of trains. This time, we got on a modern one.
Bare with me for a second. I'm not going to expound on how FREAKING difficult it was to get momster's rear end on the new train, or how much of an upper body work out I got that day, but just so you know: If you're traveling with someone too old or too short (or both) to step UP, book a train with the handicapped car unlocked. Because if you don't, those bitches keep them locked up tight!
So eventually we get to an actual seat, wiping tears, sweat, and maybe a little blood from our brows. We ride the train for 2 whole stops to Brussels.
Along the way, we meet a nice girl who showed us the way to the Square.
The first thing you're welcomed by when exiting the train station is a giant Strumpf.
Of course, we in the US of A know it as a Smurf. Evidently besides chocolate and beer, Smurfs are one of Belgium's biggest exports. I don't get it either. For some reason this one is white.
A little further along, you find this sweet little statue. An old mayor of the city sitting with his beloved doggie. I'm not sure why this guy was so popular, but if he likes doggies, he's okay in my book. (I say that lightly. Hitler liked doggies too, and he is not okay in my book).
The Square, or the Korenmarket (grain market) is several blocks away. Now keep in mind, I'm carrying my bag, mom's bag and mom's new suitcase. It wasn't easy.
I'll spare you the slide show and just post a couple of pics.
By the time we made it to the square, Ediebaby's new-found illness was in full swing and she was too tired to walk the next leg of the journey to Brussels's most famous attraction.
The Little Pisser Statue.
So, instead, we stayed in the square and bought the chocolate version.
We got our chocolate wares and hobbled our way back to the local train station.
To get back to the trains, you're forced to go through some type of mall. There were escalators, but that was out of the question with Haggi, so we had to trudge up the ramp. What greeted us at the top was this guy. A dog? A cat? A Dutch wooden shoe? I don't know! It's a Moof, I guess.
This time, the train was lower, and momster was able to get her own self onto it. Thank you sweet baby Jesus!
We rode the local train back to the Eurostar station. Here, just like the first journey, we had to go through customs. The pretty lady at the checkpoint asked our relationship, as they usually do. I looked at her and smiled.
"She's my mother, as you can tell my the stressed expression on my face." She gave me a "I feel your pain" look and stamped our passports.
We had a few minutes to kill, and Ediebaby was in need of the ever present Diet Coke. We found a little cafe. It was the last chance for me to have Belgian Beer in Belgium, so I got one. I was also hoping I'd develop a taste for the wretched stuff. No such luck.
Back on the Eurostar to cross the Chunnel!
Oh look, a dinner of cheese and carbs. Go figure.
This time, I did not fall asleep. This time I went to the dining car to check it out. I got myself something I could drink. Apple cider! I know that stuff, I can drink that.
Apple cider that tastes like beer. Oh boy! I choked it down though!
A little while later, we ended back on Terra Britannia at St. Pancras Station. From there, we took a taxi back to the Bloomsbury Holiday Inn, got our bags out of storage and checked back in.
It wasn't late by the time we got in, but it was late enough. We crawled into bed. I passed a restless night listening to mom wheeze in the next bed. Again.
