Brilliant Brussels!

Tuesday 10pm Brussels

It´s been a brilliant day – and I have no hesitation in naming Brussels as my favourite city of the trip so far.

Of course staying at a hotel which is reckoned to be one of Europe’s top 10 may have something to do with it! I have no reason to dispute the accolade, the Hotel Amigo really is very special indeed and they do everything you ask almost before you have requested it.

For the record, the rack rate of my Executive Double Room is €800 per night; I am told that, primarily being a business hotel, you’ll get it a lot cheaper at weekends.

Extras at a hotel of this level are of course pricey, the excellent buffet breakfast, for example is €30. It´s also the first hotel on my travels that actually charges guests for internet access - €20 a day – whereas the trend now seems to be to offer broadband access as part of the room rate.

I’m disappointed to discover that Tony and Cherie Blair may have been in my bed, among a literal Who’s Who of celebrities who have passed through. He, reportedly, changed his choice of hotel when Jacques Chirac decided to stay here!

I haven’t realised quite how perfectly placed the hotel is until I venture out of the door for the first time this morning. The view from my terrace is the back of the town hall which itself forms part of the splendid Grand Place.

Much of the success of today must also go down to the wonderful way in which my guide for the day, Benoit Hellings of Brussels Tourism, rose to the challenge of supplying a programme which is different. Although from the south of the country, Benoit has adopted Brussels completely and indeed seems to know most of the locals.

Our first port of call is truly extraordinary. We take a Metro, using the Brussels Card which gives 24 hours of unlimited travel and museum entry, to the Plaster Casting workshop of the Royal Museum of Art and History. This is now one of only three such places in the world which produces classical statues from really old moulds. It´s bizarre to see the constituent body parts scattered about; while we are there, finishing touches are being put to a giant statue of Hercules destined for a University in Houston, Texas. I am blown away by the workshop, a very special treat indeed and something I can commend wholeheartedly to you as something unusual to do.

Benoit thinks that a Brussels Bike will be a good way of getting about. It´s a great system, mirrored on the successful scheme in Paris where you can pay for a bike and pop it back to a rack when you are finished with it. We cover a lot of the city that way, seeing more things in a few hours than it would be possible to see on foot in a couple of days.

What is especially nice is that we see the REAL Brussels, lots of nice cobbled streets, secret corners, markets, just a lovely tour. The Mannekin Pis is not officially on our tour, but we pass by the crowds of tourists snapping each other in front of the diminutive little statue. I am told that an official from the town hall is responsible for the variety of costumes that appear to amuse and entertain.

Benoit chooses an atmospheric little restaurant, L’Achepot, in Place Saint Catherine, to take lunch; judging by the number and variety of eateries, Belgians enjoy their food. The meal is innovative and excellent.

Today, Belgium is playing in the football semi finals in the Olympics. A giant screen has been erected in Grand Place and Benoit somehow persuades his boss to allow me into his office to take a picture of the event. It must be the best office view in Brussels.

Although, the factory is closed for a holiday, Benoit has persuaded one of Belgium’s top chocolatiers, Laurent Gerbaud, to open up to show me round. Laurent is a truly innovative guy, clearly more interested in the art of his craft than the commercial aspect of the business. I am concerned that the last British journalist Benoit took to meet Laurent, ended up in a relationship with him. I make him promise that I will not suffer the same fate. Thankfully, it´s not a problem. Laurent and the lady from the Guardian are very much the happy couple. Laurent demonstrates the different types of chocolate; his is much more expensive to buy wholesale. He loves playing around with flavours; ginger and apricot are my favourites, although I could have opted for black pepper! His products are available in the UK, including over 100 Waitrose stores.

Benoit has to go off on other business and leaves me to my Brussels Card. I have a lovely time pottering about and just soaking up the atmosphere. Importantly, I have to visit a laundrette we have spied on our cycle tour and adjourn to a local hostelry for a small beer our two while my smalls are being washed, rinsed and tumbled.

So what does a travel writer do in his luxurious suite in one of Europe’s top hotels of an evening? Why, his ironing, of course, a board and iron having been obligingly supplied by housekeeping.

Thank you Brussels, I am left wanting more. There is no greater accolade I can pay than that.

A Marathon from Denmark to Brussels

Tuesday 6am, Brussels

The breakfast chef at the Saxildhus Hotel hasn’t shown up, so, there is still no hot breakfast an hour and a half after breakfast service should have started and many of the other items in the buffet are still being brought out of storage. On checkout, the receptionist can’t find any note that the tourist board is paying my bill and is rather intent on ensuring that I miss my train.

The first 3 and a quarter leg to Hamburg is on the nice DB German Railways, ICE, and then I transfer to a dreary old normal DB train for the 4-hour haul to Cologne. I am booked into a compartment which turns out to be crammed full, so I learn from my earlier experiences and set up camp in the open compartment immediately adjacent to the Bistro car.

I’m looking forward to the 2-hour journey from Cologne to Brussels, because it´s to be on Thalys, the Belgian equivalent of Eurostar. While the train is fast and the first class seating is comfortable, the carriage is dirty and, like Eurostar, is long overdue for refurbishment.

The advertised snack turns out to be a choice of hot or cold drinks, no spirits, and a packet of Tuc biscuits or a chocolate bar. Dinner is, I am told, served between Brussels and Paris. Which is after the vast majority of the passengers, including myself, have got off. The only bit of interest on the journey is a lively altercation between the guard and an American backpacking couple who’d got on at Liege and who ´didn’t know that they had to pay extra to travel on Thalys´ and who were resisting paying the supplement or the reservation fee. An awful lot of rustling of le Figaro during that little lot, I can tell you.

I’m expecting Brussels, the capital of Europe, to have a glitzy station to rival that of Berlin. I’m in for a disappointment, if not a shock. The three stations in Brussels are shockingly out of date and the Midi Suid Station where I alight is clearly not in a part of town I would wish to linger at night.

I’ve visited the Hotel Amigo seven years ago when it became part of the Rocco Forte Collection and I’ve been looking forward to returning. It´s so close to the Grand Place that it´s almost in it. The sort of place where, by the time you have paid the taxi driver, your bags have already disappeared off to your room.

I’m met by the hotel’s Assistant General Manager, Delphine de Kinder, who gives me a guided tour of my accommodation, together with a map and compass. Well not quite, but the place is certainly bigger than my little Spanish apartment. Rather better furnished too. It´s so high-tech that I have to summons the maintenance man to show me how to operate the TV remote control.

He gently points out that I’ve been trying to operate the television using the one for the DVD player. It´s the first time in over a fortnight that I have managed to catch a glimpse of the BBC´s Olympics coverage.

I’m delighted to discover that the bed is a true King-Sized, unlike many I have experienced on this trip, which are simply two singles pushed together with two single duvets. This has lovely crisp sheets, plumped up feather pillows and a full sized quilt.

I’m delighted that Thalys hasn’t fed me, because Delphine very kindly invites me to dinner in the hotel’s Ristorante Bicconi.

I’m so busy taking photographs of the crudités and pesto dip and the excellent Terre di Ginestra Sicilian wine that the starter course of succulent grilled scallops arrives, so I have to persuade the waiting staff to leave it for me to try. After a really tasty and well-presented steak main course, Delphine and I decide to order the Pistachio Soufflé, only available if two want it. Well, it´s a great choice and simply divine, darling.

The meal, wine, service and company is excellent and I have no trouble in collapsing into my luxurious bed for the sleep of the righteous.