Tag Archives: brussels grill

An uneventful Monday in Brussels

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An uneventful Monday in Brussels. Two rubbish films in Cine Paris, to Fifth Avenue by 5ish, Maria looked great in tight as hell purple jumper and black jeans; and incredible wasp waist. I never realised what a tiny waist she had! The voluptuous bottom & thighs quite distracts from it. Her sister, too, looked magnificent in tight black jumper. I then now realised, what huge bosoms she actually has. Two of the South Sea Islanders came in, but not the one I liked the most and–that was it. I tried to drink more to get myself in the mood to do something but then I realised the more I drank the more I felt certain I would NOT do anything, so then I suddenly stopped drinking, tipped what I had left down the urinal, and came back for a delicious Brussels Grill steak (passing the stunning huge-knockered Carrefour girl of course), then bed. Today I planned to get the train to Amsterdam for just a day trip but when I saw it would cost me more than 100 euros I bailed out. Can go direct on Eurostar next time I travel.

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356. In the Brouckère Brussels Grill

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356. In the Brouckère Brussels Grill. Waiting to give my order. All the bars of Brussels packed; plenty to check on my next trip. No Buster Keaton on the Brussels Grill TV this time. Some Fashion TV channel. After a Ciné Paris stopover, I expect I will be in Fifth Avenue by 5, and my last chance to get my end away on this trip. But only if I see someone SPECTACULAR. And my next trip? Wait for the February Vienna trip I expect. It seems no bread & butter for me here. So many bars on the way up, as I say, and not only were they all pretty packed (being a Saturday) but I want to abstain from any more drinking until I reach Fifth. I will TRY to have a beer in the Ibis bar on the way back from Fifth, just to look for that massive-knockered bar manager again. 405 now; I want my steak. I will try to get an English paper from outside Waterstone’s on the way up to Fifth, or Midi later, on the final way home. Momentous events truly are happening now. At that point, I can’t even read my own handwriting, even after just writing it. 411, quite a long wait to be honest. But, ah, they have to cook it don’t they.

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So I finally finally crossed the Rubicon at Le Coin. Christy one of the two sisters

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So I finally, finally, crossed the Rubicon at Le Coin. Christy, one of the two sisters from last time. Albanian. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I of course had managed to completely anesthetise myself with beer before then, so could get no real pleasure from it except the visual, and the tactile. She was adorable. Before returning to Fifth, I stop off in the De Brouckère Brussels Grill for a steak. No bread & butter it seems. I will be back to Le Coin many times now. The first time is always the hardest. 448. The De Brouckère Brussels Grill have lost their chandelier. Chandeliers are dying everywhere. The E.N.O. lost their one years ago, now the De Brouckère Brussels Grill. Sad. Finally get one piece of bread & butter. Gorgeous. No breakfast before I left the hotel today so I am understandably starving. Christ, Christy was gorgeous.

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In the Brussels Grill at De Brouckère—gorgeous blonde waitress but she appears to be the ONLY one

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In the Brussels Grill at De Brouckère—gorgeous blonde waitress, but she appears to be the ONLY one. Five minutes after sitting down still waiting for my order to be taken. She is in animated discussion beside the till with a colleague who looks like a chef. They seem to be trying to divide up tips. A tense matter. This is ridiculous, must be ten minutes now. OK. She really is lovely. Braces on teeth which is always sexy. Prettiest waitress I’ve ever seen in Brussels Grill, so I excuse her the wait. But this is ridiculous—only ONE waitress? Now she seems to be talking to the manager, deep discussion. Not got any bread & butter. They always play old black & white silent films—this time Chaplin’s The Great Dictator. Wonderful.

I didn’t eat much yesterday—just the 530PM Brussels Grill steak all day?

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I didn’t eat much yesterday—just the 530PM Brussels Grill steak all day? Well, if I’m only permitted to stay in my room till 2PM, let me go back upstairs and enjoy its comfort for every minute until then. Time to depart the Hotel Max lounge. When I’ve finished my second beer. When I sat down for my Brussels Grill steak last night I thought I’m going to have this steak then go over the road and take a Domino’s Pizza back to the hotel with me. Well, long before I even finished the steak I was struggling. So I will try to avoid it today—don’t want to be in that state and having to come back to the hotel and start the long journey home like that.bruxelles (92)

I honestly think I will always go to the Brouckère Brussels Grill if I can; it is so much quieter and more peaceful in that one

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I honestly think I will always go to the Brouckère Brussels Grill if I can; it is so much quieter and more peaceful in that one. And they gave me a MIXED salad rather just a pile of boring lettuce. I guess that’s random. Another thing I’ve learned on this trip is always buy a beer as soon as I arrive in Cine Paris—to FORCE myself to stay for at least a while. Only then do the films have any chance of working their effect on me. You have to sink into a porn cinema; I find its immediate impact is always repellent otherwise.

Is this Brussels Grill at Brouckère really playing a Buster Keaton movie on their TV screens? And is my little blonde waitress really as cute as she first appeared? Yes

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Is this Brussels Grill at Brouckère really playing a Buster Keaton movie on their TV screens? And is my little blonde waitress really as cute as she first appeared? Yes, on both counts it seems. Reward for doing something a LITTLE bit different at least. This Brussels Grill has been refurbished since I was last here—the big chandelier has gone, and the kitchen is at the back rather than down the side, which feels more appropriate. I’ve gone a little bit mad this time and had a small beer with my steak—increasing my bill (with tip) from 18 to 21. Anyway the blonde is so cute, no problem. As always, this Brussels Grill is SO much quieter than the Rogier one. And—and—and! I get the mixed salad this time! Red onion, lettuce AND tomato! What a difference it makes. Glad I came here.bruxelles (55)bruxelles (56)bruxelles (57)

Going to Brussels Grill for my customarily gorgeous steak (though the salad disappointed me, just a massive pile of bland lettuce leaves) BEFORE Fifth Avenue was a success

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Going to Brussels Grill for my customarily gorgeous steak (though the salad disappointed me, just a massive pile of bland lettuce leaves) BEFORE Fifth Avenue was a success—it meant I could drink and drink as much as I liked in Fifth without being desperate to get away to eat. Inna was there looking as sexy as ever, and Emily again in TINY little red cardigan top which left all her midriff bare, tiny denim shorts over black patterned stockings. Very very affecting. Especially when she sat in the chair facing me a few feet away with her knees drawn up to her chest, giving me an unbelievably tempting view of her groin area. Again, though, she left just after 4 o’clock and temptation was once more withdrawn. Apart that the blonde Perrie Edwards girl came in; like slim Emily even she has put on a LITTLE bit of weight, to make her slightly more tempting, but still not enough I think. And that was really it. After Fifth I returned briefly to Cine Paris then had a McDonald’s before bed and my McDonald’s receipt has a time of 545PM which suggests I left Fifth around 5, again far too early on a Saturday afternoon to stand much chance of seeing any big hitters who probably don’t turn up till 7 or 8. I had a feeling I caught a glimpse of Leyla arriving at the back, but she then kept out of sight avoiding me, no doubt. I do not blame her. I would avoid myself if I could. So that was it. I woke five past midnight, tried to force myself out to Empire but my body just would not move so that was my Saturday over and done with.

252 In my seat in Brussels Grill. 1502 still waiting for the food but two lovely pieces of bread & butter have made the wait perfectly enjoyable

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252 In my seat in Brussels Grill. 1502 still waiting for the food, but two lovely pieces of bread & butter have made the wait perfectly enjoyable. Really, Brussels Grill is SUCH a nice restaurant. I really cannot say a bad word about it, or its staff. Beautiful food, and compared to London restaurant prices, RIDICULOUSLY cheap (even with the Brexit-reduced exchange rate). After a little session in Cine Paris (two better films than yesterday) I made the effort to go all the way to other end of Rue d’Aerschot and back. One in La Derniere Minute (should have gone in the Dream Bar opposite as the pink jumper barmaid looked astoundingly gorgeous) then back here to Brussels Grill. I honestly don’t think I’m going to do anything with a Rue d’Aerschot window girl again—they are beautiful, yes; if these girls worked in Fifth Avenue I would be bankrupt in a week, but here, in this environment, I just am never in the mood. Always just wanting to get back to the plush, warm environment of Fifth (coming to Brussels Grill BEFORE Fifth is actually good—as it makes it easier to have a steak, then afterwards also have a Domino’s Pizza. I am sure I will).bruxelles (13)

Something I’ve not remarked upon (at all or enough) is how Brussels Grill give you COMPLIMENTARY bread & butter while waiting for your steak

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Something I’ve not remarked upon (at all or enough) is how Brussels Grill give you COMPLIMENTARY bread & butter while waiting for your steak. Massively appreciated, and makes a massive difference in my choice of where to eat after a day of customarily “cultural” activities. Who knows when I will be back in Brussels Grill again. In Fifth Avenue today I had NO DESIRE for sex. At all. Just thinking about food. I get food at home, so why travel? A troubling question, which comes into greater focus now than it has ever done. Five nights in Brussels—no sex at all. Scarcely any desire for it either. I have started asking for my steak “medium” rather than “well done”, only to get it delivered to me faster. 1815.

And then Leyla turned up

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And then Leyla turned up. First drink in Fifth Avenue, turned to sit down, and there was Leyla. So, everything changed. Could not go home as planned. Brussels Grill steak, back to hotel, for 2 more nights. And another, hideously expensive Eurostar. If only, if only, if only I’d known she’d be there, I wouldn’t have drunk so much in the hotel, and would have got there sooner. Now, too late. My steak is taking longer than ever. The restaurant is 75% empty. I am sure it shouldn’t be taking this long. 530 now. So drunk. So hungry. Still I wait for my steak. This is not right. Never waited this long before, and usually the place is busy. It is counter-intuitive but often true—the emptier the restaurant, the slower the service.

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My third and final night in 5th Avenue and no different. I felt no desire for anything (anyone)

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My third and final night in 5th Avenue, and no different. I felt no desire for anything (anyone). Last time I had been stunned by Brazilian Diane; the time before by Moroccan Leyla; but this time no one. It is the luck of the draw. This is the roulette. Probably just as well. Makes it easy to go home; and no great desperation to come back. In that sense, a very successful visit. Finally my first Brussels Grill of this trip. The non-stop rain turned out to be a very weak spray of rain. Like an eau de perfume mist of rain the whole time. Steak. Steak. I can smell it. I want steak. I’ve been surrounded by floozies for 3 whole days and I’ve not wanted any of them as much as I want this steak. That says it all.

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A night in Brussels so good I can barely bring myself to think about it. I am in shock and rather frightened how good it was

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A night in Brussels so good I can barely bring myself to think about it. I am in shock and rather frightened how good it was. A couple of fairly rubbish films in Cine Paris. A stunning bottle blonde with heavy make up in the Rue des C, Amanda I think. So tempted. Then the best collection of girls I have ever seen in Fifth Avenue. Inna grinning when she saw me, spectacularly sexy. Perrie Edwards blonde all in white now looked so appealing. The black bob East European in red glitter dress. And so many others. And Brazilian Diane—like a voluptuous Demi Lovato. Demi Lovato face with purple lipstick, tight red top over voluptuous bosoms, skin tight jeans over wonderfully voluptuous arse & thighs. Standing a few feet in front of me, dancing along with her Brazilian friend to Maitre Gims Bella. I could not resist, I felt drawn towards her like the moth to the flame. Then to Brussels Grill for what seemed like the most delicious steak I have ever had there. To Empire for one beer and I could barely finish it. Pretty girl on stage but I thought I’ll just wait to see the next girl and if it is NOT my Indian-Hungarian Jennifer then I’m going. Of course, up stepped Indian-Hungarian Jennifer. As always, quite possibly the most beautiful body I have ever seen on a strip stage. After she finished as usual she went around asking men if they wanted brief 5 euro lap dances in their seats and I prayed, prayed this time she would turn and come to me instead of deliberately ignoring me as she always does. She turned and with a big smile came to me. Finally my chance to ask for a private dance, 60 euros for 6 minutes. Yes. Topless only but touching allowed, I had her breasts in my hands, my mouth. Of course 60 euros is ridiculous for a private dance but I do not regret it, on the contrary, thank god I finally did it. If anyone is worth it she is. After that, I still was unable to finish my beer so stumbled back to the hotel in a complete daze. What happened tonight? And oh god, how on earth can I save money and rebuild my finances now, when I want to come back to Brussels at the earliest opportunity and repeatedly again.

> on December 15, 2014 in Washington, DC.

Oh the Brussels Grill steak last night was gorgeous

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Oh the Brussels Grill steak last night was gorgeous. Following the ruinous new management in the Berlin Plaza bar & the loss of the old gorgeous Knesepfanne, and the ruinous new management in Munich’s Rechthaler Hof (and much earlier closure of Lamm’s), it only has Vienna’s Café Westend for competition in the steak stakes, as it were. OK, let me try to charge tonight’s room to one of my cards. Fingers crossed, eyes closed.

313 In Brussels Grill. Rumsteak & small beer. 319 still waiting

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313 In Brussels Grill. Rumsteak & small beer. 319 still waiting. Apparently this Sunday the Cine Paris has a live girl performing, so I will head back to have a look at her. So hungry now. 330. Still waiting my steak. It is busy, I must say, getting busier by the minute. OK 1532 the table that ordered food after me just had their 2 dishes delivered.

So this curiously sexless sojourn in Brussels nears its end

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So this curiously sexless sojourn in Brussels nears its end. Not feeling in the mood for anything naughty at any point. Maybe too anaesthetised with lovely ice cold watery Jupiler beer; maybe too many things to do back at home making me anxious to be back and get on with them; I don’t know. A brief stop in Cine Paris, then up to Rue d’Aerschot—Marianna the pick of the windows again. Her bosoms are extraordinary. But even with her I did not feel at all tempted to stay. A Brussels Grill Steak then back to bed. 8pm now, and I try to prepare to go out again.

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So yes I went to Cine Paris and felt nothing

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So, yes, I went to Cine Paris, and felt nothing. Went to Jimmy, and Fifth Avenue, and felt nothing. So, rather than flog this dead horse even further, I came straight to Brussels Grill. Maybe I will go on to Rue d’Aerschot afterwards; I doubt it. The horse has bolted. No point locking the stable doors now, my cow. My Eros has gone, sodden, like a drowned rat. Nothing left. Still early, 430pm, though, Friday night. If even Cine Paris and Fifth Avenue do not arouse me, then what chance do I have? I am mentally dead, subdued; as I say, sodden. Nothing can spark when it is so flooded, flooded with 5 solid days of booze. Even before the steak arrives, I am thinking about another Domino’s Pizza. Or a burger in the bar next to my hotel. 1659 This has been an UNUSUALLY long wait for my steak. Because I tried to order before I even sat down? No, she said, you must sit down first. Did she deliberately delay my food because of that?

Rain is predicted for later

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Rain is predicted for later, which will be a relief after all these hot days. Let today, my last day, be a day of food—for Brussels Grill steak. And not think of anything else. If anything else happens, so be it; but I have done quite a lot on this holiday (Inna and Mariana), so let me relax today. Then quickly I force myself to Cine Paris, Jimmy, Fifth Avenue, then quickly I can get to where I really want to go—(I think) Rue d’Aerschot, Sexyworld kino and perhaps Mariana (again). Quickly I can then come back for a Brussels Grill steak and bed.

Second day in a row Alcazar’s Crying at the Discotheque playing on the 5th Avenue jukebox

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Second day in a row, Alcazar’s Crying at the Discotheque playing on the 5th Avenue jukebox—as well as the Sheila & Black Devotion track from 1979 I now realised it was based on. 2pm. Not much time before I leave my hotel at 245 maybe. 226 back in Brussels Grill. I cannot resist it. Too early for the best street girls. And 5th Avenue too just has the bigger, older girls at this time. Save it for my return.

All the way to the end of Rue d’Aerschot and Zinip—big mega-bosomed Turkish Zinip

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All the way to the end of Rue d’Aerschot and Zinip—big mega-bosomed Turkish Zinip. She was simpatico. I like her. Just 30 euros. Back to Brussels Grill. I didn’t see her come in to Café Jimmy earlier, but when I looked around there was Beatrice—black coat, black trousers; always surprises me how voluptuous she is. She didn’t even talk to me this time. In Fifth Avenue no one for me, too early even for Ina. Again, I’m not even getting bread & butter. I pinch some from another table. I’d like to go back to Fifth Avenue before sleeping, and maybe go back for Beatrice, but after this steak I’ll probably just be ready for bed. Bearnaise or mayonnaise, said the waitress, mishearing my sauce. Now I understand why I got mayonnaise last time. 457pm. Hopefully I can get up and out to Empire tonight. Tomorrow? I suppose I could keep Beatrice till tomorrow, last thing I do before I go home. Cine Paris had a half decent film—Anissa & Lola at the Nurse’s School, and I was undisturbed by the perverts. And the upstairs cinema was closed, for some unknown reason. Maybe all the perverts have been locked inside. Good idea.

How strong my sub-conscious is

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How strong my sub-conscious is. It keeps me away from Rue d’Aerschot, even though my conscious mind is telling me the sexiest girls are there. My sub-conscious propels me, and keeps sending me back to Rue des Commerçants (and Beatrice) and Fifth Avenue. So on my 6th day, I remain celibate. Chaste. Un-violated. Disappointed I didn’t get the bread & butter this time at Brussels Grill; perhaps it is only for early afternoons. Starving. Think I will die of hunger. For sure, I need a Domino’s Pizza to follow this Brussels Grill. Indigestion be damned. My sub-conscious is always saving my money for Lucy; or for Adelina in Vienna. It is a strong resistance. I listen to my sub-conscious, then I know what to do. So a 6th day in Brussels goes by, without sex. Bravo. Still that money in my pocket, for next time, or for Vienna. 6pm. Doubt I will be awake in time for Empire tonight. No chance. Let’s be honest.

There must be a reason why I never want to walk up to Gare du Nord

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There must be a reason why I never want to walk up to Gare du Nord—even though it is probably a shorter distance to Gare du Nord than to Fifth Avenue. And I think my sub-conscious tells me I really do not feel comfortable in the Rue d’Aerschot—even though the sexiest, most beautiful girls are to be found in the Rue d’Aerschot. My sub-conscious always directs me to where I feel MOST COMFORTABLE. In Vienna, that means Manhattan—because it is opposite my hotel probably. If I stayed at a hotel opposite Angelique no doubt I would be in Angelique every single night and would not feel comfortable in Manhattan. If I’m going to have sex, I really don’t want to have to walk far, before, but especially afterwards, when I’m shattered, and emotional. In Brussels, Fifth Avenue and Rue des Commercants, even though the quality of girls in these two places is so much less than at the Rue d’Aerschot. My sub-conscious is my river deep underground, my underground Nile, which directs me towards my true desires. So, I did not go to Rue d’Aerschot today after all—and always at back of my mind, Empire and Manuela. 1749. In Brussels Grill. Felt like a Brussels Grill steak and fancy a Domino’s Pizza back with me to follow. Indigestion heaven. No bread this time at Brussels Grill? Food, food, food, all I think about is food. No Ina at Fifth Avenue after 5pm. Monday night—unbelievably—busy like a Friday night. Party night. Packed with men.

The hotel lounge was full of noisy people 10 minutes ago but the housekeeping lady with the hoover has cleared them all out. Bravo madame!

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The hotel lounge was full of noisy people 10 minutes ago, but the housekeeping lady with the hoover has cleared them all out. Bravo, madame! Kept company last night by one of those wonderful/awful Jean Rollin lesbian vampire films, The Rape of the Vampire. Released in France in May 1968 and very very controversial at the time though it is hard now to understand why. How thrilled I am that the Max Hotel have regained the missing channels—AB3, Action and D17. Quite unexpected, but very much welcomed, even if D17 seems to have some obsession with that appalling preening ladyboy Kendji Girac. If you ARE really handsome, then you don’t need to PLAY handsome as well. He lays it on so thick he makes himself contemptible. He IS handsome, so he doesn’t need to keep putting on that little smile and flashing eyes. Play AGAINST your handsomeness, like I do, and we would not find you so pathetic. Sean Connery was handsome but he acted brutally. That is why men love him. A handsome man who tries to make himself look even more handsome is contemptible to other men, I think. 12 midday, still on my 2nd beer. Bit steadier today. Best memories of this holiday? The Brussels Grill steaks and Domino’s Pizzas. That says it all; but what fantastic memories they are.

After 3 solid days of drinking my stomach is looking flatter than ever

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After 3 solid days of drinking my stomach is looking flatter than ever; because I’m just drinking and hardly eating. Certainly no more than 1 meal a day. No doubt the drink will be converted into fat later, but that is a delayed process it seems. My fifth can and it is 12:57. We are getting there. My one real goal for this trip is to do something with Ina before I go home. And buy some new shoes. So 1.55 in Brussels Grill. I’m so weak. My hunger got the better of me. Cine Paris had the same films as the last 2 days so I just wanted to eat then. 2.07 already. Time I eat, get to Gare du Nord, couple of beers, back to Fifth, might be perfect?

A cold grey damp Brussels morning 1030am

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A cold, grey, damp Brussels morning 1030am. My first Jupiler of the day. An uneventful first day in Brussels. Walking towards Café Jimmy, I saw three girls on the opposite corner out of the corner of my eye and knew one of them must surely be Beatrice, but when I drew level and looked across, she was not there. Entering Jimmy though, there at the fruit machine, her back to me was Beatrice. I had forgotten what a lovely huge bottom she has. Grey soft trousers so tight over that big bum, black knee-high boots, that white short coat and black ringlet hair. I sat down with my drink and I’m not sure she even saw me before she wandered out again. But that bottom was my first (and last) intoxicating sight of the day. Walking on to the Diamant all the street girls I saw were on the old side i.e. same age as me or older. I began to get a bad feeling about this trip. Just one in the Diamant; the beer was not going down at all easily. On to 5th Avenue and no Ina and no Lucy. Paloma was there but that was it of any note. I hung on to 5ish then gave up. A Brussels Grill steak then back to hotel and a long long sleep till this morning.
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Just watching Hoffenheim v Moenchengladbach

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Just watching Hoffenheim v Moenchengladbach, none of them look like top level footballers; their faces & their haircuts do look completely out of place at the top level of football; I mean Munich, Barcelona, Madrid, Chelsea, etc. 135. Sure enough I am back in Brussels Grill. No desire to go up to Rue d’Aerschot, Sexyland, or down to Cine Paris. Just the steak. It is now BITTERLY cold. Very few girls on the streets, unsurprisingly. The temperature must have dropped at least 5 degrees since I left the hotel. 144 cutting it quite fine actually. Just 45 minutes for my food to be cooked, me to eat it, get back to hotel, get a taxi, arrive at Midi! 145 I placed my order anyway. I need to be in the taxi in 30 minutes exactly. 148 now. Getting nervous. 150. Not bad. That is huge.

I would definitely like to do something with Lucy again, as I remember next to nothing of the first time

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I would definitely like to do something with Lucy again, as I remember next to nothing of the first time. 1128. Still 2 hours to pass. Highlights of this trip: the naughtiness of Fifth Avenue, mainly with Lucy, but a little bit with Ayeesha and Emily; the lovely Brussels Grill steak. I said I would not come back again but it has quite quickly returned to my good list, and to have a perfect acceptably big steak for just 15,60 makes it quite affordable actually. When I am drunk these 15,60 steaks are more than enough for me. That’s it really. Never got to Rue d’Aerschot, Sexyland, or Empire. But really Brussels has given me so much pleasure that is just not on offer in London anymore; London has zero of the places that Brussels offers me—Cine Paris, Rue des Commerçants, and Fifth Avenue just do not have any equivalent in London. That is what justifies the cost of the Eurostar and the Max Hotel. No desire to return to Vienna just yet, but next time I go I will stop off for a night in Nuremberg going and Frankfurt coming back perhaps, so I always have something different to look forward to and break the journey up—though that then makes the trip such a long one. Three days of drinking have wiped me out; 7 days hardly bears thinking about. 1142. Still not even 12 yet. My third can of Jupiler commences. I will just go to Jimmy’s and Diamant perhaps; have a last look at the street girls, then be a slob and get a 13 euro taxi back to the station, though I did promise I would be walking back to Midi, like I did last month (when the metro was closed).

My god, the street girls of Brussels are lovely

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My god, the street girls of Brussels are lovely. Black-haired Bulgarian Bruna by the Diamant, and Beatrice’s friend “Pamela Anderson” on Beatrice’s same corner. Will be tragic when the Mayor finally gets his way and bans them from here. But, my mind was on Brussels Grill, so I passed by the two lovely ladies and wait for my “rumsteak”. I gave up on Fifth Avenue, Lucy still had not appeared, or Ayeesha; and Ina’s not been around at all this week; today was all about the steak, and going out later. 4pm now. Yes it is true, the soldiers have gone from Brussels.

So on the Eurostar back home. I was glad to experience the atmosphere in Brussels

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So on the Eurostar back home. I was glad to experience the atmosphere in Brussels this Monday night & Tuesday morning, but I am quite relieved to be heading home. The Brussels Grill steak was once more incredibly pleasurable I must say, with a very nice mixed salad which makes a big difference. Perhaps the choice of steak automatically effects the content of the salad and would explain why last couple of times I have just got nothing but masses of lettuce leaves. Once more a real pleasure. From there I was ready for bed. This morning two more large cans of beer bought from the shop and I was ready for the long walk back down to Midi (30 minutes walking time). The soldiers outside the Bourse and O’Reilly’s in particular seem to have become an extra tourist attraction, everyone taking their pictures with them like with the Horseguards in Whitehall.