Jeanneke Pis

Just back from Brussels...two weeks of eating chocolates and frites, ogling pricey European shoes, and drinking interesting beverages unavailable stateside, like Cuban rum and kriek. Belgians have an interesting sense of humor, best symbolized by that tacky tourist attraction, the mannekin pis. The little pissing boy has been reproduced ad nauseum; I personally prefer the jeanneke pis, a little pissing girl. She's sort of hidden at the end of a narrow alleyway, but worth a trip from anywhere.

High Technology, Belgian-style

Here in the United States, we've got the insular notion that we are the world leaders in everything, especially high technology. Well, a trip to Brussels's Mini-Europe will quickly put that misconception to rest.

Check out this boat carefully. Note the tiny, lifelike dolphins that swim alongside. As the boat travels down the "river," the dolphins, attached by inconspicuous pins to a rotating wheel, arc out of the water and back under in strikingly realistic fashion. An impressive display of Belgian know-how....worth a trip from anywhere.

Mini-Europe

As much as I love the Atomium, that's how much I scoff at its next-door neighbor in Brussels's Bruparck: Mini-Europe. A collection of scale models of European destinations, Mini-Europe reminds me of nothing so much as a huge, elaborate mini-golf course. Self-described as "a whistlestop tour around Europe" and a "must-see," the park features 300 models, some supposedly interactive. Make Mt. Vesuvius erupt, knock down the Berlin Wall, and so on.

I suppose it was inevitable that I eventually would end up inside Mini-Europe, instead of scoffing at it from the top of the Atomium. Today was my lucky day to do it. For € 12,20 (around $16), after struggling past an immense tide of conventioneering Scouts and a couple of obnoxiously persistent costumed photographers, I was in.

It was as corny as I'd imagined, but also arresting in a weird way. Much more extensive than I'd thought. A few interesting factoids on the plaques accompanying each display. And a cumulative appreciation of Europe as a mega-nation by the time I was through winding my way through the entire park.

The "interactive" displays were pretty pathetic. Mt. Vesuvius was broken, I never found the Berlin Wall, and the "Spirit of Europe" exhibit at the end, with its circuit-board multiple-choice quizzes, was outdated and lame. The food in the little restaurant was awful and the service worse. Scouts were still swarming the metro and the streets of downtown Brussels on the return.

But anyway. I came, I saw. I blogged. I got Mini-Europe out of my system once and for all.

HuskyParade

Although I've seen the parade of fiberglass cows in several cities, I always associate them mainly with Brussels. Alas, they're gone forever from that city. I particularly miss the pissing bull fountain in the Place Agora.

So I did a double-take today, in Bradley International Airport on my way to Brussels again, when I saw these fiberglass Huskies--an obvious take-off on the CowParade. Apparently there are Huskies all over the greater Hartford area.

The Husky is, of course, the symbol and mascot of the University of Connecticut at Storrs. UConn's sports teams are nicknamed the Huskies. It's appropriate--although apparently a coincidence--that "UConn" is a homonym for "Yukon." However you spell it, it's the home of the Huskies.

The actual live husky mascot is always named Jonathan, in honor of Connecticut's first governor, Johnathan Trumbull, Sr. I think they're up to Jonathan XII now. I didn't have time to figure out whether these puppies were named Jonathan or not. I had a plane to catch.

Tapis de Fleurs

A beautiful weekend in Springfield, Massachusetts--but an even more beautiful one in Brussels, Belgium. This is the weekend that the carpet of flowers is installed in the Grand Place, the heart of the city and arguably the most beautiful square in Europe, even without the flowers. This event takes place every other year in August.

Ever since my mother and one of my cousins lived in Belgium many years ago, I've wanted to see this installation for myself. Although I've been to Brussels more than once, I've never hit it during flower-carpet time. Oh, well.

The carpets consist of close to three-quarters of a million fresh begonias on a base of sod. Every year, the design is different, and is often chosen to symbolize some appropriate event. The 2002 carpet, for example, commemorated the 500th anniversary of Christopher Columbus's discovery of America, with a mariner's compass worked into the central motif. 1994 celebrated the 50th anniversary of the Liberation of Brussels, with the arms of the city and the regimental badges of the British in the design. 1990 was the Year of Mozart.

The tradition of the biannual carpet dates back to the 1970's. The landscape architect Etienne Stautemans originated the idea, having experimented with carpets of various sizes throughout Belgium and in many other countries as well. His intent was to popularize the begonia, a flower native to the West Indies, but cultivated extensively in the Ghent region of Belgium, and much beloved by Belgians. At 60,000,000 begonias per year, Belgium is the world's largest producer of the flowers.

The early installations stuck pretty much to typical carpet patterns, but variety and technology crept in. The 2000 tapis de fleurs looked like a Belgian lace runner on a table. In 2004, the begonias fashioned an art nouveau stained glass window (Brussels is the home of art nouveau). 2002 recreated the gardens of Versailles, complete with pointy cypresses and real water fountains. This year, the tapis is a kaleidoscope--the medallions in the medieval-inspired design actually revolve.

A small army of workers fashioned the entire carpet on Friday. After Tuesday, it'll be gone. The ephemeral nature of the work, of course, makes it all the lovelier. Flowers have long symbolized the transitoriness of human beauty. As Herrick, To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time:

"Gather ye Rose-buds while ye may,
Old Time is still a flying:
And this same flower that smiles to day,
To morrow will be dying."

The Atomium

Paris has its Tour Eiffel; Sydney its Opera House; St. Louis its Gateway Arch; Tehran its Azadi Square. Modernistic edifices with distinctive shapes that instantly identify them. Beautiful to some, plug-ugly to others...but unforgettable to all.

Brussels has the Atomium, a weird building built in the shape of an iron molecule. It was constructed in 1958 by the Belgian André Waterkeyn for the Brussels Universal Exposition, and, like the Tour Eiffel, was never pulled down. Symbol of post-war optimism about the peaceful uses of science and technology to enhance people's lives, the Atomium was erected on the site of the 1935 World's Fair, itself built adjacent to existing royal estates and parks. Altogether there are 200 hectares of woods, parterres, roads and buildings.

The Atomium was getting rather shabby, but has just been renovated. Its 1958 decor is retro-cool. The exterior sparkles and gleams. Inside, every surface has been redone. In the lobby, multicolored Marshmallow sofas--the current remakes of George Nelson's 1956 design for Herman Miller--line the exterior walls. Glass cases display purchasable, albeit pricey, miniatures of 1950's designs, including teeny marshmallow sofas.

The arms of the molecule are stairways, painted fiesta red and turquoise. The atoms are rooms. The top atom is an upscale restaurant, with cuisine by Alexandre Masson: "traditional regional specialities, which, presented in a new way, will give the public the pleasure of rediscovering them." The middle atom is the Polka Dot Bar, at which light refreshments are served. It's got a couple of snazzy old-school refrigerators in it. I want the red one!

Some of the other atoms have exhibits. (Particularly interesting is an exhibit of photographs by Marie-Françoise Plissart, taken throughout the renovation process.) Still under construction last time I was there were two atoms-ful of children's space, complete with unusual podlike units for sleeping. I can't wait to see that section finished, complete with a dozen or so kids nesting in the pods.

The Atomium is has now been swallowed up by the Bruparck, a "leisure park" which also boasts resturants, movie theaters, a water park, a doubledecker carousel, and, last but by no means least, Mini-Europe, "a whistlestop tour around Europe." Over 300 scale models of European monuments done "in quite unequalled craftsmanship." Interactive, too--you can knock over the Berlin Wall and make Mount Vesuvius erupt! Mini-Europe actually looks like just a very large mini-golf course. Endearingly tacky, but, hey. That's Belgium for you.