I enjoyed my brief stay back in the Café du Dome yesterday—just for 2 Stellas

I enjoyed my brief stay back in the Café du Dome yesterday—just for 2 Stellas, then after my first Cine Paris session (with several more beers, which is when the manager first started to get funny with me) I cut down Rue St Michel, across the Place des Martyrs, along the Rue d’Argent (I LOVE Brussels street names), up Wolvengracht, up Stormstraat and there once again to the Rue de la Montagne, where Baudelaire stayed in his famous Hôtel du Grand Miroir. This time I walked down the whole road but still could not see the plaque. Anyway I must surely have passed the spot where the Miroir once stood {yes, the Maison du Notaires], and that is good enough for me. Then on the spur of the moment I decided I WOULD press on all the way down to Le Coin—so down Zuidstraat I went, through the Place Rouppe—where Verlaine attacked Rimbaud for a second time! They had patched things up after Verlaine had shot Rimbaud the first time, and now Verlaine was accompanying Rimbaud down to Gare du Midi to bid him farewell as he left for Paris, when Verlaine’s jealousy got the better of him again and he attacked Rimbaud again! It was only after this second attack that Verlaine was arrested, convicted and sent to prison. I carried on to Le Coin and had that extraordinary surprise of so many gorgeous big, big curvy women.
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So I got to Rue de la Montagne yesterday but now I think I made a mistake—I didn’t find the exact address that was site of the Grand Miroir

So I got to Rue de la Montagne yesterday but now I think I made a mistake—I didn’t find the exact address that was site of the Grand Miroir; I saw 31-27 and thought No.28 must have been here, and opposite is No.50; but now I think it must be further down. There is a plaque on the wall apparently; I didn’t see that. So let me try again today. Maybe start in Café du Dome for old times’ sake; maybe even down to Le Coin but that is a LONG walk. Definitely back to Cine Paris today and maybe even look for some shoes. A bright blue-skied Monday morning—I think I’ve seen the last of the rain unfortunately.

Buster Keaton in a Brussels Grill steakhouse—so appropriate for mad surrealistic Brussels

Buster Keaton in a Brussels Grill steakhouse—so appropriate for mad, surrealistic Brussels. Loving this Keaton film—though I must admit some of what I’m seeing does not make much sense. Ah, let me force myself to Fifth Avenue, then back via Domino’s Pizza or McDonald’s to sleep the day away. Finally I have done it—walked the 50 yards from my hotel to the corner of Rue de la Blanchisserie and Cendres (Ashes) where the Duchess of Richmond staged the most famous ball in history—and the further 200 or 300 yards to the 28 Rue de la Montage site of Baudelaire’s Brussels home, the Hotel du Grand Miroir. Now let me drink some more, ogle a couple of floozies, then sleep.before-waterloo-henry-nelson-oneil

I will save my sightseeing for Sunday—finally the Rue de Montagne for Baudelaire’s Hotel le Grand Miroir, the corner of Blanchisserie for the Duchess of Richmond’s mansion

I will save my sightseeing for Sunday—finally, the Rue de Montagne for Baudelaire’s Hotel le Grand Miroir, the corner of Blanchisserie for the Duchess of Richmond’s mansion and hospital where Baudelaire was taken after his collapse, and perhaps to where Rimbaud was taken after Verlaine shot him a second time (or was it the first). The long walk to Rue Ducal where Byron stopped off having fled England, en route to Switzerland and Venice, can wait for another time, and the ”Space Egg” of the European Commission.1200px-The_Duchess_of_Richmond's_Ball_by_Robert_Alexander_Hillingford

Today I will TRY to get to 28 rue de la Montagne site of the old Hotel le Grand Miroir where Baudelaire lived during his infamous stay in Brussels in 1864-66

Today I will TRY to get to 28, rue de la Montagne, site of the old Hotel le Grand Miroir where Baudelaire lived during his infamous stay in Brussels in 1864-66—hating every single second of it and despising the Belgians, the Flemish, with a venomous passion. What to say on hearing a Belgian has died, he wonders? “At last!” Also on the same walk I can walk down the Rue des Cendres (Ashes) where the hospital was that Baudelaire was taken after he suffered his life-ending collapse, and the corner of Cendres and Blanchisserie which was the site of Lady Richmond’s mansion, where she staged “the most famous ball in history”, attended by Wellington and his generals on the eve of the Battle of Waterloo. As this day is flying by now, I might do that later, after dark, when there are less people around. Concentrate now on Cine Paris, early Fifth Avenue, then have a few beers in the Rue d’Aerschot while checking out the window girls. Thank god I, at least, have got my priorities right.

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