I remember the first time I came to Brussels. It was for work. I stayed somewhere close to the Midi station. Since then I’ve been here (European quarters) for tens and hundreds of times, feeling lonely and disengaged from the bubble.
I had been to Antwerp before – for my husbands exhibition opening. Knotted condoms, hairy pretzels, lots of wine and that sort of stuff. Belgium 2.0: life outside of Brussels. I remember thinking that Belgium isn’t so bad after all.
Yet, only now I realise that Belgium can be an obsession. Art Deco, Euro-brutalism, vintage stores, shady places and drinking port in your hotel room with your mother. That, to me, sounds quite cozy.