Our Final Day in Europe

We woke up in Ghent on a Sunday morning. We attended church services there in a branch of the Church where I attended in 1978 and then again in 1980.

Right after the services we boarded the train out of Ghent, heading for Brussels. Our plane back to the United States was due to depart from there early that evening.

Fortunately we had enough time to stop and see a few things in the city. When our train stopped at Central Station, we hopped off, stored our luggage and then started exploring the city.  

Brussels is another one of those Belgian cities that I have visited before, but with which I am not terribly well acquainted.

Not far from the station is a hill. At the top of this rise is a cathedral, the French speakers call it Notre Dame. The Flemish call it Onze Lieve Vrouw. (If you've seen the Antwerp and Brugge pages you're probably not at all surprised.)

  

Grote Markt/Grand Place

 

Grote Markt, meaning great, or big market is a large square located in the center of town. It is surrounded on three sides by the well-restored baroque era buildings, as well as the city hall.

We visited Brussels in January. You can see that just like many people in the U.S., the Belgians hadn't quite gotten around to taking down all of their Christmas decorations just yet.

The astute observer will see from the reflections on the pavement and the people carrying umbrellas that it was pouring down rain while we were there.  

 Although you can't tell from this picture, the city hall towers high above any of the surrounding buildings. The surrounding buildings on the Grote Markt are just slightly shorter than the dark roof of the main part of the building.

Brussels is a very old city too. In 1979 the country was flooded with signs, and commemorative items in celebration of the 900th anniversary of the city's founding.

 

 

 A view of the opposite end of the Grote Markt. I am always impressed with the great amount of detail present in the facades and gables of these old buildings. Of particular note here is the gilded horse and rider atop the building hear the center of the picture.

Karen and I stood at the spot where these pictures were taken, beneath a small (very small) overhang to have some shelter from the heavy downpour.

And What Would Brussels Be Without...

 From the Grote Markt we walked down a very ordinary-looking, very narrow street. A little ways down, on a very ordinary street corner a crowd is standing around an ironwork fence, in the rain.

They came to see a statue known the world over, Mannekin Pis. The name comes from the Flemish dialect. Mannekin means "little man." Pis means, well...go figure.

The statue stands only about 12-18 inches tall. It's not an imposing work of art by any means, but it is certainly well know and well-loved the world over.

"Why did they make a statue of that?" is what many people ask. As one legend goes, the city was burning and was saved by a boy who used his...ingenuity...to put it out. Sounds plausible? I don't know. How many Diet Pepsi's would you have to drink to even put out a small campfire?

Legends abound, but the true story behind the statue of the boy is a mystery.

For more information, go here. It's a site sponsored by, who else, but the Urological Sciences Foundation. But don't forget to come back!

 

 

 

 Here he is, up close and personal.

Sorry to rain on your parade, but this is not the original statue. They had to resort to using replicas because it tends to get stolen every so often. The real one, I am told, is locked away in a museum.

Visit Amsterdam, Ghent, Leiden, Antwerp, Brugge, Zierikzee.

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This page was last modified May 21, 1999