Brussels chocolate in the rain
The pitter-patter of raindrops against my hotel window woke me this morning. I peeked through the curtains to see Brussels wrapped in a gentle shower, the cobblestones glistening in the early light. A perfect excuse to seek shelter in one of the city's famous chocolate shops, I thought.
I arrived at Pierre Marcolini at exactly 9:50, ten minutes before opening. The shop assistant noticed me waiting outside and gave me a friendly wave as she prepared for the day. When the doors opened, I was greeted by the intoxicating aroma of chocolate and the elegant displays of pralines, truffles, and other confections.
"First customer of the day gets to try our newest creation," the assistant said with a smile, offering me a sample of a dark chocolate ganache infused with cardamom. The chocolate melted on my tongue, releasing layers of flavor that lingered long after it was gone.
"This is extraordinary," I said, already calculating how many I could reasonably fit in my backpack without risking a melted mess.
I ended up purchasing a small selection box – just enough to last a few days. Though at the rate I'm sampling them, they might not make it past dinner.
After my chocolate adventure, I decided to brave the light rain and walk toward the Musical Instruments Museum I'd been eyeing since arriving. The weather app on my phone promised sunshine by early afternoon, and I wanted to time my visit to coincide with clearer skies for the rooftop view I'd read about.
I ducked into a café near the Mont des Arts to wait out the heaviest part of the shower. Ordering in French felt like a small victory, though the barista immediately switched to English when I hesitated over the word for cinnamon. Still, I appreciated the chance to practice.
With my coffee finished and the rain reduced to a light drizzle, I continued toward the museum. The building itself is a marvel – an Art Nouveau masterpiece that once housed the Old England department store. I found myself taking photos of the ornate ironwork before even stepping inside.
The museum houses over 8,000 musical instruments from around the world, but what makes it special is the audio guide that lets you hear each instrument. I spent nearly two hours wandering through the exhibits, listening to everything from ancient Chinese zithers to modern synthesizers.
The rooftop restaurant offered panoramic views of Brussels as promised, and by then, patches of blue sky were appearing between the clouds. I treated myself to a light lunch while watching the city transform under the emerging sunlight.
It's now 12:40, and I'm sitting in the museum café, planning the rest of my day. The weather app shows the afternoon should be increasingly sunny, perfect for exploring the Park of Brussels or perhaps revisiting the Grand Place to see it under different light.
One thing I've noticed about Brussels is how the city seems to have multiple personalities – French and Dutch, historic and modern, serious (with all the EU buildings) and whimsical (with comic book art everywhere). It feels like you could spend weeks here and still discover new facets.
Tomorrow marks two weeks since I left home. It's strange how quickly new routines form – the morning search for good coffee, the constant minor calculations of distances and times, the nightly ritual of backing up photos. I wonder what habits I'll have developed by the time this journey ends.
For now, though, I'm going to enjoy the chocolate in my bag and the promise of sunshine this afternoon. The city awaits.
486 days to go.