Leaving France (just for the weekend)!

Gil the Jet-setter? Hardly, Belgium is the third country I’ve now visited in Europe. Brussels to be exact! It is not so different from France however, 90 percent of the occupants are French Speaking, it could nearly be a Northern French City. However Belgium in the North is nothing like France, Flemish speaking in the country-side – it is more similar to Holland. And this is Belgium, a country divided in two, more culturally than politically, though the French half is far more progressive and liberal than the more traditional Flemish part of the country.

By any means, why go to a country like Belgium, there are far more prestigious places than this smallish nation – an odd choice one may think? Well, one of my many new friends, more interesting than most of the rest invited me along for a wild weekend in Brussels! Romain is his name, spontaneous partying is his game, and political incorrectness is his sway of persuasion (it doesn’t sound right but his way of doing things is endearing). He met me (and my travel companion) a bit tipsy in his beloved cashmere sweater pulling the family dog in tow, this set the tone for Romain’s epithet for the weekend – intoxicated well-dressed errand boy.


He met us at the Schuman Roundabout, Schuman the instigator of the European Union (in the 1950’s), so it makes sense that the EU commission is located here. While I wasn’t to know but later that evening I would be dining with a Belgian Diplomat that is on the EU trade board that serves at this massive building! I was to learn much that evening; I knew very little about Brussels before coming, but it is this international city which also houses NATO – therefore it is a place sprawled with many important nationals all across Europe. Romain took me to stay with him at a good family friend, a family friend who lived in a five-storey home in lovely inner suburb of Brussels – it was a terrific place to spend the weekend. A house filled with notable classical art (biblical art-work) and extensive collection of books – one felt you were in a home of both rich culture and history. It certainly was. The man of the house Mr Gregorioff was born in Belgium, but his parents were some of the elites who had to flee Russia because of the Revolution, leaving all their wealth behind. They came to Belgium as refugees with nothing, having to rebuild, and they did, again his family is now living on a wealthy estate. So it was fitting to have the head of the Senegal Law association for dinner, random, but notable – a gentlemanly African lawyer – you just don’t meet them every day.

Romain and my travel companion (who remains nameless for no reason), were happy to leave, they found the whole political talk to be of extreme boredom. I didn’t really know what to think, everything was said in French so I barely understood a word, but caught a startling piece of trivia – Senegal has just 375 lawyers in a nation of twelve million people! Wow! That is your dire fact about Africa for the day!

The next two nights were filled with extreme late night partying, which involved a club on the (less-than-impressive Brussels’) canal but a great club nonetheless; later we went to Bar Rouge with the legendary Charles (studying to be a surgeon) who is 22 dating a woman 20 years his senior – literally old enough to be his mother. (For the record he is not a legend because he is dating a mature woman, he himself was a man ahead of his years - I'm older than him but you could have never had guessed it by talking to the two of us)! This lady acted young and energetic, and got a man closer to her age to buy two bottles of champagne for us – out of desire more than generosity I suppose. The next night we hit the extravagent You Night-Club for a 7th year anniversary, where just casually the (most probable) next Belgian president was in attendance. Belgium at the moment was in a state of limbo, in recent elections no party had won a definitive majority to lead, but negotiations are in process as I write this – and the favourite happened to be in the club. He did not have any body-guards round him, and he was partying with some people half his age, but in politician years he is a baby – he didn’t look over 40. You call America progressive with the youngish half Kenyan Barack Obama, this likely Belgian candidate is gay, one step further than being from an ethnic minority. So goes the progressiveness of the metropolitans of Belgium such as Brussels.



Brussels is a compact place where anyone can know everyone, for instance Romain knows Stromae Belgiam’s latest music sensation with ‘Alors on Danse’, or just the fact I happened to see Belgian’s next president on one of the two nights I was there. Or be invited to an aviation lawyer Igor’s 60 metre (squared) penthouse apartment overlooking the iconic Parc Cinquantenaire, in mentioning him I would like to thank Igor for bestowing much of this information my way. And as I leave Brussels in my memory, I have the knowledge that this was another great experience in my European adventure, and I cant wait for many more!