A candid smartphone photo looking down at a small table outside a Brussels café, featuring a half-finished coffee cup, a notebook with handwritten text, and a pair of sunglasses resting beside it. The sun casts soft morning shadows across the table. In the background, slightly out of focus, people walk along a historic street
A first-person perspective shot from a park bench under a large, ancient plane tree, looking down a manicured gravel path. Government workers in business attire walk briskly through the park, slightly blurred as if in motion. The image captures dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves
An authentic, slightly tilted smartphone photo taken from a café terrace overlooking the Mont des Arts view. The lower city of Brussels stretches out in the background, a mix of historic and modern architecture. In the foreground, a simple plate with crumbs from a croque monsieur and a glass of sparkling water with condensation beads sits on the table

Coffee and contemplation on a sunny Wednesday

Brussels, Belgium | September 10, 2025 | Day 15 of 500

I woke up early this morning to another sunny day in Brussels. The weather app on my phone promised 22°C and sunshine—a perfect day for more exploration. After three days here, I'm starting to develop a routine: wake up, shower, find coffee, and then let the day unfold.

I found a small café near my hotel that opens at 7:00. I arrived at 6:50 and waited outside, watching the owner set up inside. He noticed me and opened the door with a smile, waving me in despite not being officially open yet. When I ordered in my broken French, he switched to perfect English and asked where I was from. The conversation that followed about Norway and his cousin who lives in Bergen made the coffee taste even better.

After breakfast, I decided to explore the Park of Brussels that I've been meaning to visit since I arrived. It's the largest urban public park in the center of Brussels, and I spent nearly two hours wandering its manicured paths. The symmetrical layout reminded me of formal French gardens, with carefully trimmed hedges and geometric flowerbeds. Several magnificent plane trees line the main promenade—some must be well over a century old based on their impressive girth.

I sat on a bench beneath one particularly grand specimen, watching government workers hurry through the park on their way to offices. Brussels feels different from Amsterdam—more serious somehow, with its administrative buildings and the constant presence of the European Union. Yet there's a playfulness too, evident in the comic book murals and chocolate shops on every corner.

Speaking of chocolate, I couldn't resist stopping at another shop on my way back from the park. This time a small family-owned place where the owner explained how they source their cocoa directly from farmers in Ghana. I bought a small selection of pralines to enjoy later.

It's now approaching 13:00, and I'm sitting at a café near the Mont des Arts, looking out over the lower city. The sun is warm on my face, and I've just finished a light lunch of a croque monsieur and sparkling water. The city stretches out below me, a mix of ornate historic buildings and modern structures.

I'm still trying to understand Brussels. It seems to exist in multiple states simultaneously—French and Dutch, historic and modern, serious and whimsical. Perhaps that's why I find it so intriguing. There's no single Brussels identity to grasp, but rather a collection of overlapping realities.

For the afternoon, I'm considering visiting the Royal Museums of Fine Arts. The weather forecast shows sunshine turning cloudy later, so perhaps an indoor activity would be prudent. I've heard their Bruegel collection is exceptional, and I'm curious to see these famous works in person.

Tomorrow looks like it might bring some showers, according to the forecast. I'll need to plan accordingly—perhaps more museums or maybe finding a cozy café to sit and write. I've been here three days now, and I'm not feeling any restlessness yet. Brussels seems to have more layers to uncover.

I'm approaching two weeks since I left home. Fifteen days into a five hundred day journey. It's strange how quickly new routines form—how the extraordinary becomes ordinary through repetition. Finding accommodation, navigating new streets, ordering food in unfamiliar languages... tasks that seemed daunting at first are already becoming second nature.

Time to finish my coffee and continue exploring. The afternoon awaits.

485 days to go.