The Namur Days
This is officially the first day of the 2011 trip organised by Hector.
The theme for this year’s Hector’s Horrible Holidays is Hector’s Holländisch Hootenanny, a Brugge too far. All will become clear in the next ten days, or will it become a blur?
Day 0
As Howard would say, more than once: ‘It was a dark and stormy night, it was raining cats and dogs, there was poodles everywhere…’ Well, this would have been a happier start to the summer trip of 2011. Arriving on schedule at Charleroi, Hector went looking for the driver of our Transfer to Namur. There was no Java Coffee shop as the printout stated, this is is BRU – the main Brussels Airport I was told. Hector is not that stupid, he cannot have booked us into the wrong Airport, but no, the price would have been astronomical and the printout clearly said Charleroi. I phoned the emergency contact, the most useless Doris answered. Why does everyone not speak perfect English? ‘What is your other name?’ she kept asking me. What other name, I had already identified myself, booking reference too. ‘Your booking was for the twentieth of June!’ I looked again at the printout, she was correct, I hung up.
There were disbelieving looks from The Friends of Hector. A major cock-up to my total embarrassment. 21.00 came and went.
Outside we negotiated a taxi at twice the cost of what the pre-paid Transfer had been. I had just blown €60. Wait until I get home and check my records.
At Namur we were all round the houses due to a fun fair blocking a street, The Ibis Hotel, Rue de Lanciers, Namur. Ten minutes later we were back out on the street looking for Bier.
Le Phare was opposite, in we went. Out we came, crowded and smoky, this will not do. The next place had no smoking signs up, people were smoking, out again. The third place looked more promising but the chairs were being put on the tables, fermee.
We ended up at The Thai Cafe (Rue Nameche) which was just behind the Ibis. Having wandered the streets of Namur in the increasing darkness and with sporadic showers, Hector was wondering what sort of place he had brought his charges to for four nights.
Bier was negotiated with what turned out to be a charming African lady whose English improved as we became more daring with our French. Hector had a Kriek, a slightly alcoholic Cherry Lemonade to start. Others were straight into the Rochefort.
Doris asked what we were looking for:’ Bier sans fumeurs.’ I replied. ‘Mais tous es Brasseries sont non fumeurs, c’est les regles!’ I could be wrong, but this is rare, apparently on July 1st, all of Belgium went non-smoking. ‘Telephonez les Agents!’ was my reply. In February of this year smoking was not an issue in the places Marg and I visited, but these all sold food.
A wandering we shall go
With itinerary in hand we set off looking for one of the three listed venues. The Cave de Bieres is opposite the Station. A crowd at the door communicated the fact that the smoking regulations were in place. In we go… the music blared, the place was full of weans… the draught Biers were studied, difficult because the taps were not all labelled. There was a decent array of Bier in the fridge. The barman served someone else and ignored the fact that eight people had just entered the premises. The phone rang, he answered it… we left.
Bouffon du Roi
With greater familiarity with the map and the streets we found our way down Rue Godfroid to Rue de Bruxelles and our next port of call. There was still music, loud on occasion, but this would be home for what was left of the evening.
Robin and Hector shared a reasonably priced, for Belgium, 75cl bottle of La Chouffe. This is Hector’s favourite Blonde Belgian Bier and will feature strongly in this trip. When I find on on draught there will be no holding me back. We stayed for another round by which time we were all drinking La Chouffe or its darker brother McChouffe. The door was locked; we were asked if we wanted more drink. A lock in! Superb! We declined, finished up and went home to sleep. Tomorrow is the official start of the Hootenanny.
Day 1
Le Weekend, well so it said on the ticket to Brussel, home of Tin-Tin, Belgium’s most famous person. €8 return, better than I anticipated. It was at the rendezvous with Jonathan and Dr Stan in Bruxelles Midi that we found it that today is a national holiday: Cantillon is closed! The itinerary had yet again fallen short of expectation. Neil had by now given it the title to which it will henceforth be identified: The Tin-Tinary.
BlackBerry Way
The resurrected BlackBerry revealed a memo relating to Moeder Lambic, just up from Brussel Sud. Minutes later we we there. 46 Bier taps! Yes, 46!
Hector’s first choice was a Cantillon Kriek variant, my first ever Cantillon on draught. The 0.25 portion did not last and it was soon into the classic Cantillon Geuze.
The Chaps were each satisfying their personal preferences. Dr Stan and Hector had one major preference, not to sit here all day and disintegrate. Craig was finally convinced that there were other pubs in Brussel which might sell decent Bier.
We became tourists momentarily as we walked through the Grand Place in the drizzle. The forecast for the rest of this trip was poor.
*
The classic Bier house, Morte Subite was the next port of call. In 1997 the close proximity of the seating which probably has not changed since the place opened some ninety years ago, and the smoke, did not make this place so appealing. With the dawn of Belgium’s enlightenment the place deserves its classic status.
The Morte Subite Kriek and St. Feullien Grand Cru were my imbibements. Once again we knew we had to leave. Such are the limitations of a one day tour.
Dr Stan and Jonathan had arrived in Brussel the night before and had spent some time in Delirium Tremens, a new student and tourist attraction.
La Chouffe’s Houblon was the Bier Jonathan insisted I try. Getting served was another issue. There was a single Doris trying to serve an entire bar with about twenty people waiting to be served. It was not her fault she had been left to this. Wetherspoons and their lack of staff and service came to mind. She objected to Hector waiving his cash, it worked, I was served.
Two half litres of this ever so modest unfiltered/hoppy version of one of my favourite Belgian Biers, Howard had the other, then it was his round. This set us up for the day.
*
*
*
The Puppet Theatre
Toone is a hoot. Dr Stan, Al and Hector had a very late session there one evening back in 2003 and this was after a day trip to Koln. Draught Kwak is the attraction, served in the unique wooden stand, this Ambre Ale may be out of sorts with the style of Bier Hector normally consumes, but it is sheer perfection.
Some of the group did not make it this far. Some of us went back to Namur from Centraal, after a walk in the rain. Some found the Nord station instead. We all returned to Namur by different trains, Hector went for the first Curry-Heute of the trip. Somewhere in all this Les Freres arrived. One spoke without a pause for twenty minutes, the full Duracell effect, the other said nothing. This would be the feature of the next eight days.
Namur Bars
Cafe Thai, Rue de Nameche
Bouffon Du Roi, 60 Rue de Bruxelles
Chapitre 1, Place du Chapitre
Cave a Bieres, 68 Rue Godfroid
Our favourite Brussel’s outlets
Moeder Lambic, 8 Place de Fontainas
Cantillon, 56 Rue Gheude
Morte Subite, 7 Rue Montagne
Falstaff, 17 Rue Henri Maus
Toone, Impasse Schuddeveld and the Impasse Sainte Pétronille
Cafe Delirium, Impasse de la Fidélité 4A