Lovers of windmills and canals flock to Amsterdam. Francophiles, with their love of croissants and macarons, make a beeline for Paris. Yet not far from either city (by rail or air) is an oft-neglected European capital with both French charm and Dutch kookiness: Brussels.
The Belgian capital is filled with quaint (and sometimes dangerously uneven) cobblestone roads and spirited residents. Both French and Dutch are spoken which means streets names are doubled (and doubling the confusion for tourists too, no doubt).
We join the attachés and ambassadors for lunch at the nearby De Noordzee (La Mer du Nord) fish bar. It’s standing room only but there’s a certain European charm about dining on your feet. The freshest seafood are cooked to order and served fuss-free.
Our tomato-based fish soup arrives first, served with toast topped with garlic mayonnaise and cheese. Not fancy but still a tiny delight.
We have our mains tapas-style: razor clams à la plancha (cooked on a flattop grill), tuna tataki and salmon tartare, and croquettes aux crevettes (shrimp fritters) which are so addictive we consider ordering more. That would be greedy, we decide, so we don’t.
Washing it all down with a glass of white wine, we agree that a Belgian summer is a very fine thing indeed.