I may be terrible with remembering names and birthdays but if you looked inside my brain you would find airport blueprints. Well, maps of airports and Chanel boutiques around the world. I think I’d make a pretty good human iPhone travel app. Give me the airport’s IATA three letter code and I will recite the ranking of each airport based on check-in efficiency, baggage claim down time, location/ hours of VAT (Value Added Tax) offices, dining choices, and any other odd services like shower rentals (NRT: Tokyo, both terminals) or foot massages (PEK: Beijing, Terminal 2). But I know what you really want to know is how’s the shopping…duty free shopping, that is…the tiny glimmer of silver lining for the long, long international flights.
Well, unfortunately for me my first flight this morning pushed out of Brussels National (BRU) , a tiny airport. B+ for general efficiency–it picks up the + for processing my VAT refund very quickly even this early in the morning. But if you have a long wait, bring food and some form of entertainment. For an international airport in a bustling metroplex, it feels very second rate. This airport, in my own grading system, is barely a C-. But as long as I don’t see human hands sticking out of a window to throw my luggage at me (e.g. RCB: Richard’s Bay, S. Africa) then I won’t rank it as a D.
Anyway, from Brussels it’s a wink of a flight to London, and I arrive at Heathrow’s relatively new Terminal 5, which is so celebrated it has its own website. I give Heathrow an A just for its politeness. In fact, I give all of London an A for this. Maybe it’s just the English accent that makes everything sound so much…nicer. I mean, you’re an idiot still means you’re an idiot, but they’ll say it like please, madam, you’re an idiot, thank you. And the insult just doesn’t hurt quite as much. For this reason I love flying on British Air and connecting through London whenever possible; there’s just a certain polite efficiency that runs through the entire plane ride and terminals. There are signs telling you exactly how many minutes it will take you to get from point A to point wherever so that you could plan accordingly. God forbid you should be late here; it wouldn’t be…polite. And the shopping! Pure madness. But I’m old school. From T5
I can’t wait to catch my pleasantly narrated shuttle to good old Terminal 3, or what I consider my own version of a Las Vegas “high.” As soon as I set foot inside T3, my ears perk up like my cats’ when they hear another animal outside the window. It’s a signal from my brain to pay attention. Something good is happening! The sound level is as high and the flashing lights as bright as at any casino on the main strip. I literally hear a flush of coins dropping as if from slot machines, when in fact it’s just the sound of funny money rustling in my pockets, dying to be spent at the Chanel, Gucci, Hermes, et al, boutiques all around me. If they allowed smoking and scantily dressed waitresses to bring you cocktails then T3 would truly be a Vegas experience. Just more pleasant, and no roulette tables unless you consider the boutiques to be just as dangerous.
Anyway, here I am on my laptop writing this after having spent half an hour at the Chanel boutique. It’s a tradition for me to pick up a hat from this terminal’s store every time I pass through here, but the dollar is still being pounded by the…pound, so even though I also spot a bag I’ve not seen in the US, I decide to pass. It’s always easy to spend funny money on the road, until you get the credit card statement later and then it’s no longer very funny.
T3 gets an A+ for entertainment value. Value Added Terminal. Here is where you will find people of all colors, sizes, and personal preferences. While I am typing this, two young boys are texting in Arabic on their phones next to me. Apparently my glances are not surreptitious enough so they move away from me. Sheesh, it’s not like I can understand what they’re writing. They may be texting some juicy details but it just looks like pretty squiggles to me.
But as soon as they leave, another family comes over to take their seats. This little boy has spotted my shiny laptop and almost sits on my lap. In seconds his hands are already near my keypad. I’m amused by his forwardness but disturbed by the tiny grubby fingers so I move them away from the Caps Lock key. He smiles and tries again. I think it’s time to put my laptop away; my gate info has just been posted on the board anyway. The boy pets my laptop when I close it, disappointed. But I manage to get this from him as I get up…
I think there’s still a little time left in my T-3 casino. What do you say, let everything ride on red?
Tags: BRU, Brussels National, Chanel, Gucci, Heathrow, Hermes, iPhone app, Las Vegas, NRT, PEK, RCB, T3, T5
You know that Jules Verne classic Around The World In Eighty Days? I’ve always wanted to live that story ever since I first read it as a teenager. But we all know it’s not possible to lug enough clothes (and bags plus shoes) around for that amount of time without professional help. I can barely stay sane packing for a 30-day trip, much less 80! However, as I enter the grounds of Mini-Europe this afternoon in Brussels, I’m starting to think this concept makes sense. You could basically do Europe in 80 minutes…if you don’t mind seeing all the great sites in miniature.
From Greece
to Spain
to Hungary
to England, you can shortcut your way through Europe :
There are over 300 intricately crafted models to (1: 25) scale of structures that I’ve either seen in person or on postcards. I have to confess when I first entered the park, I felt a little guilty for spending my last afternoon at a tourist trap. But by the time I get to the second model, I am hooked. The details of each model are amazing. And I think it must be fun for those of you who recognize these places below from your own travel:
Here are comparison pics of some of the models and the actual places from my recent trips:
Venice:
Paris:
Brussels:
Dinant:
The park brochure recommends 2 hours to visit but I am here for over 3. Mainly because I’ve loitered too long at the interactive pit stops, such as this one of Kinderdijk where I’m trying to get the water pumping in the canal by spinning the water wheel:
In fact, the park crew is waiting for me to leave so they can go home! I follow these ducks out of here…
and it’s time for dinner, back near the Grand Place just like at lunch. When I walk through this main square after dinner, the moon is out and so are a million people. Every inch of the square is carpeted by tourists enjoying a warm night. I’m not looking forward to my long flight home, but maybe this will help me ease my anxiety…
Tags: Belgium, Brussels, Dinant, Grand Place, Kinderdijk, Mini-Europe, Paris, Venice
My European trip is coming to an end here in Belgium and on my last free day I spend it at the newly opened Musée Magritte Museum in Brussels. Located at the Place Royale, you can reach it via a pleasant walk from the Bourse metro stop…
up the Mont des Arts. Upon arrival, you have some of the best views of the city…
From here, you have a choice of numerous museums. But if you’ve read some of my earlier posts, you’d know there’s only one true Belgian love for me–and I don’t mean the chocolat or the ever present gaufre
but René François Ghislain Magritte:
I’ve probably been to as many Magritte exhibits as humanly possible,
and there’s no rhyme or reason as to why I find such kinship in his art. Especially considering that I studied Renaissance art history in college. The really old stuff. Perhaps it’s just the fact that in many of his paintings, he gives you just a glimpse into what could be. The world is never as it seems, and yet all so familiar. At least that’s my interpretation of surrealism. I’m not allowed to take any pictures here so the above are just some pics of posters in the basement rest area. And if this is as close as I’ll ever get to Magritte, then so be it…
BTW, is my purse too big??
Anyway, my last lunch in Brussels is at a Japanese place and this is what’s inside my bentō box:
The restaurant is near the Grand Place or Grote Markt, which I walk through again because I find it to be one of the most vibrant squares in all of Europe:
I have a feeling this is not my last walk through this square. But for now, I’m getting back on the metro to hit one last tourist trap.
See you there tomorrow.
Tags: Belgium, Brussels, Grand Place, Grote Markt, Magritte Museum, purse, Rene Magritte, surrealism
That’s silly. Yesterday I was talking about seeing Prague filled with people then alone, and I forgot to post comparison pictures. So here are a few shots of the city crowded then emptied…
Doesn’t this look like Disneyworld, except…real? Like a Czech Disneyworld?
This is my last post from Prague. Before I catch my afternoon flight out of here, I wander through a street market trolling for trinkets, but in the heat all I want is this…
even though on the street most people are grabbing this:
Here are some places I see on my way out:
I can’t believe from this first shot days ago,
it’s already time to check out again
and then park myself here…
See you in the next town.
Tags: Prague
My mom asked me why, in my earlier European reports, the towns looked so empty, from Belgium to Luxembourg. It’s most likely that tourism is down but even more so that I try to find empty streets wherever I am to take photographs. But here in Prague, it’s been quite difficult to avoid the crowds except when I’m in the more residential areas well outside of the sightseeing quarters. Even late in the evening, people are everywhere, enjoying the summer warmth. So one day, I am on the streets by 5am.
My grogginess is quickly replaced by the thrill of having the city, then bridge, much to myself. The only other people around me are stragglers stumbling home from a night of partying or die-hard photographers trying to capture the still of the twilight hours. Like me.
The problem with being a twilight chaser, besides sleep deprivation, is that you have to move fast. It’s literally seconds to get your shot when the sun decides to set or rise. Once the sun is down or up, it’s game over. And the other problem is, no matter how many times I’ve waited for the moments before sunset or sunrise, I’m always so stunned by the colors when it happens that the photography falls by the wayside. I just want to stand there and watch…and then kick myself for not getting the perfect shots. It’s kinda like that on the Charles Bridge this early morning; in fact even worse when exchanging cameras with others…
Before I know it, it’s full-fledged morning…
and a small peloton has arrived on the bridge:
It’s still very early, but bright enough for me to get some clear, unobstructed shots of the saints:
These are all shiny from the rubbing,
that I myself managed to do during my first visit that day on a very crowded bridge:
I wish I could get a shot of all the saints’ faces on this bridge,
but given their heights it’d be impossible for me to do:
Anyway, one last rub of the saint for good luck,
and it’s time to go back to the hotel for a quick rest before another full day continues..
If I could find a moment of solitude like this in every city I visit, I’d stay a twilight chaser forever.
Tags: Charles Bridge, Prague
