The Justice Palace really does loom over Brussels as your Eurostar pulls out of Midi. It really feels like the symbol of Brussels. Justice Palaces being, for me of course, powerful symbols in themselves—not just of justice, but of corruption, moral corruption, decadence, judgementalism, the naked scales of justice of the universe, sin, morality. A painless enough check out and embarkation. My Saturday morning taxi was as cheap as it has ever been, 9,20, and he took me down a route no other taxi had taken me before—along Malines, down Anspach, down Laeken, Fontainas, back onto Anspach just before the Palais du Midi. Ironically it was raining last night, the one night I COULD have gone out as I was wide awake and sober, having spent all afternoon in Cine Paris. A grey Brussels morning; I expect rain before we reach the tunnel. Travelling home on a Saturday is so nice actually. I can get back to a nice peaceful London rather than weekday madness. A nice half-empty train.