Pleased on this trip that finally I did a couple of my pilgrimages

Pleased on this trip that finally I did a couple of my pilgrimages—to the site of “the most famous ball in history” that Wellington attended on the eve of the Battle of Waterloo, and as mentioned to the site of Baudelaire’s Hotel du Grand Miroir. Pleased to discover on my last day that Le COIN is where I should be going and that the Ibis Gare du Midi is the nexus where I should be basing myself (perhaps).
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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.

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

If I ever go to Rome, and please God allot to me the years of existence and the money to do so, I will go via the ancient Via Francigena

If I ever go to Rome, and please God allot to me the years of existence and the money to do so, I will go via the ancient Via Francigena. I refuse to go to Rome any other way. I have no doubt it will be hard, long, and erotically boring—but the sheer value of STICKING to the old pilgrimage route will mean so much to me. Stupid I know, to be so irreligious, yet place such importance on the old CHRISTIAN pilgrimage routes. It is about our history, our DNA, who we are as Europeans—and yes, even though I voted for “Brexit”, I consider myself a EUROPEAN; I probably feel more European even than a vast majority of those who voted to Remain. EU and Europe, as always the crucial distinction.VF_Ruta_completa_con_pricipales_poblaciones.svg