Highs & Lows
Brussels brought two things that I hadn’t seen since I left Canada: hills and rain. When we go too long seeing only part of a duality, it can be easy to forget how one half is defined by its counterpart. Too long in the sun, and we begin to take it for granted, the umbrella is left buried deep in the closet, and there it lay when the clouds finally become so full they cannot but let loose. Too long without lifting ourselves up, when we finally meet a slope our muscles ache and cry out with each step.
Brussels is a city of highs and lows, with half the city literally elevated above the rest, and so it was for me. Before arriving in the city, I had already received mixed reports from fellow travelers. For most, it had not left a favorable impression. It seemed to lack a certain je ne sais quoi possessed by its cousins. Despite these reports, there were sites I knew I wanted to see, such as the Brussels Expo, site of the 1935 and 1958 World’s Fair. I was especially intrigued by the Atomium, a building composed of giant aluminum balls and tubes arranged to represent a crystal structure composed of atoms.

I Want To Ride My Bicycle
I made my way from Bruxelles-Midi station to my hostel, Meninger Hotel, by way of a tram station in a dank tunnel like structure with not just a hint of urine aroma. The tram would drop me off in an area that I had been warned by reviews would seem a little rough. Over my time there, I would find that its bark was worse than its bite, but my initial impression was that it was certainly rundown. Sitting alongside the canal, the buildings were old and grimy looking, graffiti covered most surfaces and a few vacant lots gave an unwelcoming demeanor.
The hostel itself was also a bit of an oddity. As its name suggest, Meninger Hotel operated mostly as a hotel, but offered some dorm-style accomodations, as well as a guest kitchen and such hostel ammenities. The oddity carried on to the rooms themselves, with a strange layout of two sets of bunk beds, in addition to two double beds that sat side by side. I selected a lower bunk that would have my head directly at the foot of another roommate. This turned out to be an unfortunate decision as it would lead me to have to ask said roommate to wash his feet, as their smell was eye-watering after a day of exploring the city.
Additionally, the room was equipped with an eco-friendly measure common in many hotels, wherein you need to place your room keycard into a slot to enable electricity for the room. While this setup works well when only one or two people are inhabiting a room, it works much less well when the room is occupied by six strangers. It was a constant stream of announcing our departures and warning that the power was about to be shut off. At least until I accidentally left my card in the slot when leaving the room, requiring me to get a second keycard from reception.
I spent my first afternoon in the hostel relaxing, working on my blog, and killing time until it was time to meet Tristan, who expected to arrive in Brussels in the late afternoon, after biking from Ghent. When he arrived, I set out to meet him at his hostel and got my first real taste of Brussels. As it turned out, the path that Google Maps selected for me managed to avoid many of the interesting sights that I might have seen, in favor of backstreets. These streets continued much of the impression of the area around my hostel, though they were definitely cleaner and less marked by graffiti.
I managed to connect with Tristan without much trouble and we set out in search of dinner. Wandering through a busy shopping center near the center of the city, we overwhelmed with choices. We walked nearly the full length of the district before landing on a brasserie with a good selection of Belgian beers. What followed was a truly pleasant dinner and conversation. I thoroughly enjoyed Tristan’s company, he is a kind, considerate and bright young man and I consider myself lucky to have made his acquaintance.
After dinner, we set out in search of Tristan’s true goal in visiting Brussels: the chocolate truffles of Maison Pelicaen. Tristan bought a veritable mountain of truffles, which he intended to return home to Galway, Ireland, where he convinced women would instantly fall in love with him after a single taste. In his defense, they were some pretty tasty truffles.
We finished out the evening by accidentally stumbling upon the golden splendor of Brussel’s Grand Place. The wide square is surrounded by gilded Gothic and Baroque style buildings of many ages, including Town Hall, each denoting a period in Brussels’ long history. The discovery was a cherry on top of a lovely first evening in Brussels, all the better for being shared with a new friend.

Finally, we returned to Tristan’s hostel where he would gift me with the bicycle that had used to travel from Germany, through The Netherlands, and finally here to Brussels. The Bike with No Name, though distinctly a he according to Tristan, was a hardtail mountain bike that had put in some real work over Tristan’s journey. And now he was mine. Just like that. And so we both said goodbye to Tristan and headed out into the Belgian night, hopeful for a whole new world that had opened up for us.

Bad News
It was about 2:30 in the morning when my phone buzzed. I’d just been added to a new WhatsApp group. The group was consisted of me, my mom, and my step-dad, Shawn. No messages had been sent yet, but I already knew what it was. Early last year, my mother was diagnosed with gynecological cancer and then had a separate thyroid cancer scare later in the year. Both of those issues had been dealt with before I left and it seemed like everything was in the clear. But soon, a message arrived confirming that was no longer the case.
My mom had written me a letter from the hospital room that she had been in for a week already, as she was receiving her first chemotherapy treatment. She had been diagnosed with leukemia, and a particularly aggressive variant at that (T-ALL). What had started out looking like a flu that lasted a few days too long, turned out to be a need to get to an emergency room as soon as possible. The current outlook was that she would be hospitalized for at least a month before being released to complete outpatient therapy. She had waited a week to tell both my sister and myself because she didn’t want to interrupt my trip or my sister’s birthday, now recently past. And least surprising of all, for those that know my mother, she didn’t want me to come home because of this. She would rather that I continue my journey, so that could live vicariously through my adventures.
In the dead of the night, already calloused from her previous brush with cancer, I agreed with her. There was nothing that I would be able to do to help. Right now she needed professional medical care, that the hospital was already providing, and rest. And everything was still up in the air, and filled with unknowns. It would be more practical to wait for things to settle out, so I could see the lay of the land before making any decisions.
I read the letter, two, three times. Trying to soak up as much information as I could. Reading between the lines for what might not being said. My mom is one to want to put a positive spin on even the darkest of news, and this was some pretty bad news. I decided to try to sleep on it, and eventually managed to fall fitfully asleep.
Things Change
Unsurprisingly, the next two days in Brussels passed in a bit of a haze. The Bike with No Name needed some fixing up, with the wear and tear it had accumulated over its journey with Tristan. I found a Decathlon and was able to make the necessary repairs, without spending too much money, to get him running smoothly.
Now that the entire world was open to me and my wheels, I could barely see it as it whirled passed me. I spent an afternoon biking out to the Expo grounds and Atomium. I am a confident street cyclist, but Brussels is no Amsterdam (though it is still miles ahead of most North American cities for biking infrastructure). It took real focus to navigate the roads, some thick with competing vehicles. This sort of head-on-a-swivel pedaling offered some relief from the clouds circling me, but it didn’t make for a leisurely, sight-seeing ride.

The following day, I set out on foot to explore the city center of Brussels and the grayness followed with me. I saw everything through a fog. Every time I stopped to admire some building, statue, or view, my mind would begin drifting, wondering and worrying. After eating lunch in a quiet park square, all my worrying manifested a downpour that came out of nowhere. What were at first a few spare raindrops, soon became thick sheets of rain. Dumping what seemed like all of the rain that I had missed in my three weeks in Europe at once. I was lucky to be able to duck into an apartment buildings vestibule while the torrent fell, quickly becoming fast moving rivers overflowing the gutters as they ran down the hill. Ten minutes later, it was over. The sun once again shone through the clouds and within half an hour, you wouldn’t know that it had rained at all.
When I returned back to the hostel, I resolved to deal with my own rain cloud. I reached out to my best friend and told her the news. Which, in turn, led me to reach out to my step-father, Shawn to find out what else I could about the situation. After a video chat with Shawn and another with my father, I had made a decision. I would return to Canada, to do what I could to help out, and to assess the situation and its severity. At this point, we still didn’t know very much. We were just waiting for the medicine to do its work.
I wasn’t sure yet when I would return. I already had bookings for Lille and Paris, but those would take me all the way into the middle of September, which would be the most critical time during the early treatment phase. This point was to be left undecided until I had a chance to speak with my mom after her first rounds of chemo, which wouldn’t be for a couple more days, when I was in Lille.
Silver Linings
After my phone calls and big decisions, I headed down to the hostel kitchen and fixed myself dinner. I was still in my head, as I sat down to eat but my wallowing was interrupted by a comment saying that my food looked good. This was my introduction to Rosa, a kindergarten teacher from Stuttgart, Germany. Rosa had been eating dinner with David (?) from The Netherlands, and very quickly, our conversation attracted Nick, a financial analyst for the Canadian government from Toronto. David soon had to leave, but Rosa, Nick and myself spent the rest of the evening chatting and playing cards. It was just the distraction I needed after the past two days of hazy uncertainty. The simple kindnesses of strangers can be so meaningful when traveling, as I learned that day.
My final day in Brussels was spent following some of my dad’s advice. He said I should take some time to do what I love, walk in nature, and give my mind time to think things over, calmly. So I set out to the Woodpecker Bois de la Cambre, a large park in the south-east of Brussels. It was an overcast day, misty with sprinkling rain. The route to the park covered ground I hadn’t yet seen, and now that my head clearer, I was able to enjoy the sights along the way. The park itself was quiet and serene, exactly what I was looking for in my contemplative mood. As usual, I found some birds to keep me occupied, as well as another little treat that I hadn’t seen since leaving Canada, a chipmunk (Siberian chipmunks are, technically, an invasive species in Europe, but we’ll ignore that for this time).

I didn’t have any major revelations or changes of mind while in the Woodpecker Bois, but I did leave much more refreshed than I had been over the majority of my time in Brussels. Sitting under a tree while it rained, munching on a sandwich, waiting for the birds to come out again was a gentle balm for my mind.
Before I left Brussels, I did have one final decision to make. What would I do with the Bike with No Name? Originally, I had intended to take him on the train with me to Lille. But now, that I was returning home so soon, maybe it was better to follow through with Tristan’s original intentions of leaving him on the streets of Brussels for the first person that could use him? I was torn. And on the morning of my departure, I couldn’t let him go. I made a short test ride to ensure that I would be able to make it the couple of kilometers to the train station, while wearing a backpack on both the front and back of me. I decided it wouldn’t be comfortable, but I would be able to manage. And so my story with the Bike with No Name would go on a little while longer.

Bird Corner
The birds were a little scant in Brussels. Obviously, my mind was a bit occupied with other matters. Most of the birds that I did see were repeats of other cities (not that that’s completely stopped me in previous posts). But despite that, I did manage to spot a couple of new feathered friends.
Where Next?
As with my last post, I’m writing now from Devon, Alberta. It’s about a month after I left Brussels. I’m happy to report that my mom was released from the hospital a week ago. After a couple of slow days to readjust to being at home, she’s already almost completely returned to normal activity level, which is best described as hummingbird-esque. She will be starting outpatient chemotherapy next week, and we’ll see what sort of impact that has on her and the household. If all goes well, I may be returning to my travels in the next few weeks. But, there’s a road to go before then. So for now, it’s just one step at a time.



















































































