Having parted ways with my travelling companion, Mick, I made my way to Brussels and checked into a nice hostel on one of the main thoroughfares to the centre of the city and its central square ('Le Grand Place'). Meeting a fellow solo traveller (Jon, American), we started chatting and he lets me know that he is meeting two American girls in a bar that he is doing an online course with. The live in Brussels and have invited him out, he invites me along and I obviously say yes and end up drinking at this bar:
It was fucking amazing. Nobody on the planet brews beer like the Belgians. So we attempted to drink all of them. We failed dismally and the girls (a couple, as it turns out :( ) had to leave. They took us to a 'tourist bar' called Delerium which had won beer of the year for its house brew (Delerium tremmens, get some but be careful...you'll see why). It also holds the honour for having the largest beer list on the planet. It occupies an entire alley made up of 6 bars and is full of raucously drunk tourists. We were quite happy.
Being a complete smartass, I asked to see a beer list.
The only sensible response when confronted with reading about 3000 beers when all you really want to do is drink beer? Loudly say 'FUCK! I'll have the house beer'. Good news (for you): Here come the bad decisions.
Important facts:
-The bartender doesn't tell you that what you're drinking is 7.5% lager. It is delicious, you can't tell its strong and you can drink them fast. Ludicrously fast in the case of myself and Jon.
-The bartender pours whenever you are at your seat and your glass is empty- he is too busy to give a shit if you WANT another one, so it just arrives, you pay and soon enough...Hammered drunk.
-There is no food, so you drink more because you'll 'eat later, after a few more'.
Jon was about 10 years older than me, so knew when to cut himself off and go home. I did not.
Instead I found out that there was a British bucks party going on 2 tables over, complete with shitty matching t-shirts and Fedora hats. I wanted one of those hats and I would stop at nothing. I did what any fearless drunk would do and walked straight over to the buck with two beers, said congratulations and handed him one. Then I asked if they had spare hats. No spare hats. Plan B time: Find the drunkest guy in the party, get him drunker and then ask him for his hat. It worked:
In posession of the stolen hat and having many rounds purchased for me by inebriated Brits, I decided it was time to leave. It was a very simple route but at some point during the night I had lost my map, so I went off of my drunken memory to manage two right turns and a straight line. Actually, I was hammered, the road may have been straight but my course along it would not have been.
Instead, I decided walking was hard and got a taxi. My french is shithouse at the best of times, when I am drunk enough to slur my own name it is atrocious, hence I couldn't pronounce the name of the street I was on correctly. So, I navigated by pointing and grunting. The trouble with this is that you cover ground quite fast in a taxi and quickly find yourself taking a leisurely tour of the industrial district with a driver who is stoked to have a compliant but drunk and stupid passenger running up his meter.
It was fucking amazing. Nobody on the planet brews beer like the Belgians. So we attempted to drink all of them. We failed dismally and the girls (a couple, as it turns out :( ) had to leave. They took us to a 'tourist bar' called Delerium which had won beer of the year for its house brew (Delerium tremmens, get some but be careful...you'll see why). It also holds the honour for having the largest beer list on the planet. It occupies an entire alley made up of 6 bars and is full of raucously drunk tourists. We were quite happy.
Being a complete smartass, I asked to see a beer list.
Important facts:
-The bartender doesn't tell you that what you're drinking is 7.5% lager. It is delicious, you can't tell its strong and you can drink them fast. Ludicrously fast in the case of myself and Jon.
-The bartender pours whenever you are at your seat and your glass is empty- he is too busy to give a shit if you WANT another one, so it just arrives, you pay and soon enough...Hammered drunk.
-There is no food, so you drink more because you'll 'eat later, after a few more'.
Jon was about 10 years older than me, so knew when to cut himself off and go home. I did not.
Instead I found out that there was a British bucks party going on 2 tables over, complete with shitty matching t-shirts and Fedora hats. I wanted one of those hats and I would stop at nothing. I did what any fearless drunk would do and walked straight over to the buck with two beers, said congratulations and handed him one. Then I asked if they had spare hats. No spare hats. Plan B time: Find the drunkest guy in the party, get him drunker and then ask him for his hat. It worked:
In posession of the stolen hat and having many rounds purchased for me by inebriated Brits, I decided it was time to leave. It was a very simple route but at some point during the night I had lost my map, so I went off of my drunken memory to manage two right turns and a straight line. Actually, I was hammered, the road may have been straight but my course along it would not have been.
Instead, I decided walking was hard and got a taxi. My french is shithouse at the best of times, when I am drunk enough to slur my own name it is atrocious, hence I couldn't pronounce the name of the street I was on correctly. So, I navigated by pointing and grunting. The trouble with this is that you cover ground quite fast in a taxi and quickly find yourself taking a leisurely tour of the industrial district with a driver who is stoked to have a compliant but drunk and stupid passenger running up his meter.
Eventually, the taxi ride had given me enough time to remember my route TO the night out which started in the Grand-Place, So I asked the driver to take me there...300m from where he picked me up. I immediately found my way and stumbled back to my hostel with my new hat.
All things considered, I think about 100€ total for a night out, a city tour and a new hat isn't all that bad. Brussels: 7.5/10.
P.S. Woke up wearing the hat.
Comments
Post a Comment