Brussels Part II: We Found Heaven (and then missed a train)

Hello Everyone,

My name is Mr. T. I recently took part in a 5 week expedition across Europe with 4 really good guys. As we set out across this great continent, we did many a thing; some were spectacular, some... not so much. Even if I hadn't made it to heaven on this trip, it still would have been one helluva good time.

Which brings me to my story... but first, a few more pics of Belgium with the whole Crewe:

This is the place we ate at the first evening, which happened to be, coincidentally, right next to the pissing boy statue.

A vertical panorama that Alex happened to have his face in.

Okay, so I only had two pictures. Now onto the story...

To put it simply, I wanted to go to Brussels for the beer. Sadly, only 2 out of 5 of us were able to appreciate what were truly the best beers I have ever tasted (I think Elon will agree for himself).

It was the morning before we departed for Paris, our train left at 3pm. I decided that morning that I had to fulfill my primary mission --to whet my appetite for Belgian beer-- and whomever wanted to join me could lay down their swords and kiss the ground at my feet. Apparently this did not work. Elon was the lone man brave enough to yield and join my ranks. Here he is, eating a cheeseburger at a Quick Burger:

Quick Burger, the French-Belgian equivalent to McDonald's, is McDonald's-gone-wrong. I would have never believed it, not in a million years, that it could get much worse. But then again, that was before I tried Quick Burger.

The beer we quested for were the infamous Trappist ales. This Monk-brewed beer is known for its heavy body, lacy head, and sweet, complex tastes. Oh yeah, and its high alcohol content.

And so, the two of us set off on a journey from the rest of the group...


We wandered around for a while, looking first for a place to eat. We found a little stand that had true Belgian Waffles and we each ordered one. Mine had melted chocolate sauce on top and I think Elon indulged with a whipped-cream/chocolate sauce duo (sadly I did not think of taking a picture). They were pretty good but we wanted beer. So the search continued.



This was a really cool mall-like thing that we were directed to by a friendly lady which we passed by. She actually had suggested that we first buy some ice cream from a specific shop and then walk through this mall. We skipped the ice cream for obvious reasons -ice cream is the antithesis of beer.

The mall was filled with gourmet chocolate shops and clothing stores. After stopping by a few of the chocolate places, we carried on looking for a good local-looking bar to get a drink at.

Eventually, we found ourselves walking through a somewhat crowded alley-way in a seemingly random location. Just as we passed by another street, Elon stopped me by the shoulder and pointed down the road. Up yonder in the distance was the bar we had only heard rumors about, the Delerium Cafe! Elon had found it!!!! Good work Elon, I knew you would be a valuable asset to my troupe! (just kidding... our troupe).

So instead of finding a local pub, Elon had found the one-and-only Delerium Cafe which, according to the Guiness Book of World Records, holds the largest amount of beer on hand out of any other bar in the entire world. That would be just over two-thousand five-hundred different beers (although they only guarantee they'll have 2200 of them at any given time). Hell yes. We could see the light alright, and we made a beeline right for it.

The "bar" part of the bar, which was in the basement and was the only section of the Delerium Cafe that was open while we were there. There is also a nightclub here and a cafe which were upstairs and were both closed.

The place was practically empty save a for a few kids our age hanging out at one of the tables. Oh yeah, and the transvestite Elon sat next to at the bar (again no pics... sorry, I know how much you want to see this one but really, you don't.)

Our bar tender.

Take a look at that menu for a good second. Wow.

The beers were organized amazingly. Each had a description written about it in much the same style that a wine would be reviewed. This place is awesome.

Scopin' the place out, I guess.

Great beer... one of the bar tender's favorites.

After we had each tried a couple of beers, I suggested we keep our eye on the time as our 3:00 train departure was quickly approaching. Elon easily persuaded me that we should stay and have one more.


After we each had another beer, I suggested we keep our eye on the time as our 3:00 train departure was quickly approaching. Elon persuaded me that we should stay and have one more.

I think this is my favorite beer, ever.

After we each had another beer, I suggested we keep our eye on the time as our 3:00 train departure was quickly approaching. Elon tactfully persuaded me that we should stay and have one more.


Okay, now it is 2:00pm. Elon, you sly devil, you can't trick me anymore. We need to try and make this train. But the Elon is a devious and cunning creature and could see right through our present situation: 1.) We were in the (arguable) beer capitol of the world, at the (unarguable) bar with the largest selection of beers in the world. 2.) We had 1 hour to make it back to our hostel, which we had no idea how to get to, grab our bags and make it to the train station, which we also didn't know how to get to. and 3.) Belgian beers, as said previously, are known for their higher than average alcohol content.

Taking all of these into consideration left me with the only choice. So Elon and I stayed and had one more beer.

We both had to have the classic St. Bernardus Abt 12 - right from the mother's teat, so to speak. Nothin' beats drinking an import (for us Americans) in the country its brewed in. This was no exception.

And so, to cut the rest of this story short (and because I only have one picture left), we somehow made it back to the hostel to retrieve our bags and began our stumble towards the train station around 2:40, with a slight hope that we still might catch our 3:00 train.

We eventually made it to the train station. At 3:15. Oops. So, we sucked it up and found the ticket salesman to purchase a new ticket. Luckily, trains between Brussels and Paris are very popular so they run just about every hour. We bought a ticket for the next train which set us back around 17 euro.

Why the looong face, Elon? You've got the golden ticket!

And so, here ends the tale of two men who searched for beer in Brussels and found more than they could have ever dreamed of. Needless to say, the train ride from Belgium to Paris was a blur... because the train was moving so fast of course!