Why we went back to Brussels (after almost writing it off)
The first time we went to Brussels, we almost didn’t go back. The second time, it became one of our favourite cities in Europe. This is the story of what changed — and it’s really a story about how we travelled, not about the city.
The bad first visit
Our first trip was a few hours on the way somewhere else. We photographed the Grand-Place (lovely), squinted at Manneken-Pis (tiny, baffling), ate an overpriced lunch on a touristy street near it (our mistake — the trap), found the area near Midi station grim, and left thinking: “Pleasant square, otherwise meh. Don’t get the hype.”
We’d done everything wrong, and judged the city on it.
What dragged us back
A friend who’d lived there wouldn’t let it stand. “You saw none of it,” she said, and reeled off a list — the Art Nouveau, the comic murals, the lambic breweries, the food in Sainte-Catherine and Dansaert. So, slightly grudgingly, we gave it a proper weekend.
The city we’d completely missed
It was like visiting somewhere new. We walked the Art Nouveau streets of Saint-Gilles and stood open-mouthed in the Horta Museum. We turned a morning into a comic-mural treasure hunt. We drank sour gueuze at a brewery that’s barely changed since 1900. We ate brilliantly, one street back from where we’d been ripped off the first time (best neighbourhoods).
None of this is hidden, exactly — it’s just ten minutes’ walk out from where the tour buses stop, and you have to give it a day or two (overrated/underrated).
The lesson
Brussels doesn’t perform for you. It won’t charm you in an afternoon the way Bruges does. It rewards the curious and punishes the passive — judge it on a rushed first glance and it underwhelms; give it real time and it quietly becomes a favourite (is Brussels worth it?).
We’ve been back several times since. The grey skies, the understated centre, the slightly surreal sense of humour — we love all of it now. But we nearly missed it entirely, on the strength of one bad lunch and three hurried hours.
So if your first impression of Brussels was “meh” — go back, and walk ten minutes further. That’s where the city we love begins.
