After a good rest (train travel is so tiring!), we went out for a walk.

Our apartment is situated in Anderlecht, one of 19 communes (roughly equivalent to London boroughs) into which the Brussels Capital Region is divided.

This afternoon we covered only a tiny part of it, travelling “round the block”, albeit a fairly large “block”. This part of town is neither particularly interesting historically nor particularly beautiful but, so what? We were in Belgium, treading its streets and just enjoying being here.

As we walked over our first black-and-white-striped pedestrian crossing, I warned Tigger to take care, saying that motorists here don’t respect the crossings like they do in the UK. Events subsequently proved me wrong when several drivers, seeing us hovering on the kerb, stopped their vehicles to let us cross. There was one rogue, however, a female driver who, as I put foot to tarmac, hooted at me and swept on past.

The topography in Brussels is fairly flat making cycling popular. Dedicated cycle lanes are now a feature of the urban landscape. What took me by surprise, though, was to discover electric scooters for hire dotted all over the town, analogous to hire bicycles in London. I don’t recall seeing any such on our last visit.

In the UK, electric scooters are not legal on public roads or pavements, but here they seem to be. There are if course bicycles for hire also, including the electric variety now seen in Britain.

This is a view from the Pierre Marchant Bridge along the canal. I say “the” canal as I am not certain which one it is. I think it is the Brussels-Charleroi Canal.

This lady had a bag of bread and was feeding it to the ducks and coots. This seems to be an activity that knows no frontiers. People feed the birds all over the world.

Meanwhile, not far away, someone had left a heap of bread occasioning this scrum of pigeons. The fact that there was no fighting shows that there was plenty.

There were a couple of other dinner guests too. If you have sharp eyes you may be able to make out one if them in the above picture. Imagine the picture is a clock face and look at the position of the number 7. Do you see the brown rat, holding a piece of bread in his mouth hurrying off towards the left, just above the sole pigeon?

Rats are not everybody’s cup of tea and nor are pigeons, for that matter, but I like both and enjoy watching them. So there!

This very handsome building is an École Communale or Commune School. I don’t know whether it is primary or secondary but it is certainly a fine piece of architecture. We couldn’t see a date anywhere and our best guess is that it dates from the Belgian equivalent of the Victorian era.

We were attracted to this face smiling down at us from a house dated 1911.

This is just a random scan shot (“panorama” in iPhone terminology) at a crossroads. The temperature was about 24 deg C and we were looking around for a cafe where we could have a nice cool drink. (Yes, I know you Aussies would consider 24 positively chilly but we’re British dammit!)

Seeing this cafe called La Dame de Pique (the name means “Queen of Spades” and the décor reflected the theme), we hurried across and ordered Lipton Ice Tea, the real one, this time.

Our apartment was nearby and so we returned thither.

If the weather continues as it is today, I think this piece of furniture is going to prove to be a valuable asset!

This is Le Pain Quotidien at St Pancras Station where we stopped for breakfast before committing ourselves to the care of Eurostar.

This photo by Tigger shows the view from where we are sitting in the Eurostar departure lounge waiting for our train to be announced.

To reach this point, we had to pass the ticket barriers then pack everything – baggage, hats, coats, cameras, etc – onto trays to pass through the X-ray machines and, finally, show our passports to both UK and French passport control. You are advised to allow 45 minutes for these processes but in fact they took a lot less.

As the title suggests, we are off to Brussels today, returning on Sunday evening. This will be something of a sentimental journey as the next time we make this journey, if we do, it will no longer be as members of the European Union that has done so much for this country economically, culturally and in terms of civil rights.

The mean-spirited, jingoistic attitude that always lurks like a dark ghost in the British psyche has, with the encouragement of mendacious self-seeking politicians, once more gained the upper hand in the UK. We will have a long and painful road to travel before happier times restore us to our rightful European heritage.

Brussels in one of my favourite cities and I am looking forward to exploring its treasures once again, albeit briefly.

At 12:08 our train pulled into Bruxelles Midi station. We went out by the back way into a road we knew from before.

This is not a very prepossessing photo of Brussels. It was a first quick grab and better ones will follow, I hope.

The above mentioned street behind the station is lined with restaurants. We chose the Europa as we had been there before.

We could have sat outside but the temperature here is higher than in London (24 deg C vs 19) and the sun is warm, so we went inside.

We usually drink Lipton Ice Tea in Belgium but it wasn’t on the menu in this restaurant so we tried this alternative called Fuzetea. (Photo by Tigger.) It’s similar but I prefer Lipton.

From the restaurant we walked to the apartment where we will be staying until Sunday.

Here we are “at home”, resting before going out again to start enjoying being in Belgium.

When I step off the train, by reflex I snap into “French mode” but then I have to adjust. Here in Brussels it is not like being in France, despite the language. It is more relaxed and friendly somehow. Later, when we visit another town, outside the Brussels region, it will be interesting to see whether it feels the same or becomes more “French”.

Linguistic note

Brussels lies entirely within the Flemish-speaking region of Belgium, Flanders. Originally, it was itself Flemish-speaking like the rest of the region. Since the 19th century, however, it has gradually evolved into a French-speaking city. As it is the capital of Belgium, it is technically bi-lingual but the majority now speak French. Brussels and the surrounding area, called the Brussels Capital Region, forms part of the Fédération Wallonie-Bruxelles, also known as the Francophone Community. (Wallonia is the southern, French-speaking region of Belgium.)

Administratively, there are three regions, the Flemish Region in the north, the Walloon Region in the south and the Brussels Capital Region. Linguistically, there are three communities, the Flemish-speaking, French-speaking and the German-speaking communities, respectively. English is spoken widely and competently and is increasingly used in business and advertising, perhaps to avoid drafting all signs and slogans into three languages.

Once again we started the day at Jusaka with coffee and croissants.

The sun is shining and no rain is forecast for once. (Not that this means it won’t rain, of course. This is Britain, after all, where forecasts are updated as the weather develops.)

We caught a 38 bus and alighted here at the Shaftesbury Theatre, currently showing another episode in the Harry Potter saga. This, however, was not our destination.

We walked down Charing Cross Road to reach this famous institution, the National Portrait Gallery.

We had to wait a while for the opening time of 10 am and when the caretakers emerged to tackle the locked gates, it turned out that they did not come provided with the correct key, so we waited yet a little longer 🙂

We had come to see the exhibition of works submitted for the BP Portrait Awards 2019.

There was the usual perfunctory bag search as we entered the gallery – a sad reflection on the mores of our time – but admission is free and as it was early, there were no crowds. Photography (without flash) is allowed.

And here is the winner, Imara in Her Winter Coat, by Charlie Schaffer (Oil on canvas).

Portraiture is a difficult art in this age of photography. A portrait needs to be a likeness and yet it must say something about the subject (and possibly also about the artist). I can’t say that any of these exhibits particularly impressed me but some showed more character than others.

We went for the obligatory tour of the gallery shop and then retired to a local Caffè Nero for a coffee break before proceeding to our next stop.

For this, we made our way to here, St Martin-in-the-Fields. Perhaps this famous church was indeed once sited among fields but these are long gone and the area is fully built-up. We have come for a lunch date with Tigger’s sister who works nearby.

And this is the classy diner wherein we had lunch. As it happens, this eatery is famous in the area for serving simple dishes such as omelettes or egg and chips at moderate prices. Sister is well known to the staff who greet her most amiably.

Then we headed into deepest Covent Garden to this change office to buy euros for our trip which starts tomorrow.

Where are we going? Watch this space!

I had to photograph the change office at this awkward angle from where the staff could not see me. This is because I saw that they had spotted me loitering outside and I worried that they might call the police to deal with a suspicious lurker!

As a reward for our labours, we treated ourselves to coffee and cake in this delightful stop-off, Delaunay’s Viennese-style cafe in Holborn.

Suitably rested and refreshed, we occupied the rear seats of a 59 bus to begin our journey home.

The next adventure starts early tomorrow…

The Smith & Sons clock is one of my favourite Islington landmarks. When it was installed in 1906, it was a piece of shameless advertisement lightly disguised as a gift to the community but time has softened the implication and turned it into a much loved heirloom.

The Council has taken good care of it and had it refurbished several times. I believe the original movement has been replaced with an electric one.

Today, I photographed it from the bus stop in City Road where we were waiting for a 43 bus to take us to London Bridge Station.

This is Greenwich Railway Station where we arrived on a train from London Bridge.

Greenwich used to have a town hall and this tall clock tower is part of it. The Grade II listed building lost its position owing to borough reorganisation.

We took a bus to Greenwich Park. Our ultimate destination is the building in the centre background.

This is where we were going. It is a Georgian villa, situated on the border of Greenwich Park and Blackheath, known as the Ranger’s House. It’s main claim to fame today is that it is home to the Wernher Collection, a collection of art gathered by the 19th-century businessman, Sir Julius Wernher.

Unfortunately, photography is not allowed in the house so I cannot show you any of the artifacts. This scan-shot front view of the house will have to do instead.

Afterwards, we walked down the hill where I stopped to take a photo of the church demurely screened by trees. It is Our Ladye Star of the Sea Catholic Church, built in 1851.

The name might strike you as odd, given that Greenwich is nowhere near the sea but it does in fact have a long nautical history, being the home of the Royal Observatory (whose position defines the Greenwich Meridian), the National Maritime Museum and the old Royal Naval College.

We sat for a while in the park until we decided that it was time for lunch,

We made our way through the grounds of the aforementioned naval institutions (above is the Royal Maritime Museum) to an eatery called the Old Brewery which is attached to the Old Naval College.

Having lunched, we walked to the Docklands Light Railway station and took the train to bank. Buses from there brought us to the clock tower once more where we finished up, as we had started this morning, in the Jusaka coffee bar.

We both felt we had done enough for today, perhaps because we had exerted ourselves yesterday, including the long walk to and from the Wolverhampton Art Gallery.

On the journey home we stopped at Bicester North, one of the stations for that ancient town.

The name of this town is of course pronounced “Bister” to rhyme with “mister”. The -cester part of the name immediately betrays it as Anglo-Saxon as it comes originally from the Latin word castrum, denoting a Roman fortress or fortified town. Where such settlements were later taken over by the Anglo-Saxons, the word mutated in their language to ceaster (with the ‘c’ pronounced as modern ‘ch’), giving -cester or -chester in many modern town names.

What the Bi- part of the name means is a different matter and no one knows for sure. Bicester has been spelt in a number of different ways in its history and these suggest a possible origin in the personal name of the person who reinhabited the town in the Anglo-Saxon period. We will never know for certain.