There are chocolate rabbits. Fountains of the sickly sweet stuff in shop windows. Trays of beautifully crafted confectionery. Cocoa-based products in countless outlets all over the centre of Brussels. Now I no longer need Neuhaus displays in the duty free stores at ports to convince me that Belgium is the land of chocolate.
But, even sustained by biting into a Belgian delicacy so described, I'm still frustrated at the city centre cyber cafe by the azerty rather than British-style qwerty keyboard on which I'm typing this blog. The word "cafe" so nearly became cqfe. I'll soldier on, playing hide and seek with letters, numerals and symbols; for instance, having to use Ctrl, Alt and the number three key to get "@" for emails.
A lot of people speak English here, unlike in Paris, which puts Londoners like me to shame. And I met French-speaking Europeans from Spain, Andorra and Finland on the street. To be fair, the Brits who work at the European Parliament, like Jane Stowell, an administrator with the Socialist Group, speak fluent French.
Jane complained ruefully to me that, because she has lived in Brussels for more than 15 years, she can no longer vote in British elections. She has to console herself with the right to participate in Belgian local and European polls (happening in the 27 EU nations, June 4-7), though not national ones. "I'm in favour of British Tories not being allowed to vote in the Costa Brava," she joked. I quipped that rich non-domiciled Brits in tax havens around the world should be disenfranchised too. Jane nodded, approvingly.
I bumped into some innovative young street performers using drama to put across to the public in the European Parliament capital their anti-Monsanto and Bayer multi-nationals and pro-green "reclaim the fields" message. They told me they were not in favour of political parties, instead preferring to agitate for change in a grassroots movement.
Members acted out a goodies (green activists) and baddies (the multi-nationals hench men and women) Punch and Judy knockabout show on the pavement next to La Grande Place, Brussels' most famous landmark.
Bright-eyed Maria, 26, said they practice what they preach by growing their own produce on small farms which would never be commercially viable. "I get close to the animals. I know them very well," she enthused.
Needless to say, Maria and her cohorts are vegetarian so they don't kill or eat animals, though they consume their eggs and milk. And they use "local" goods alone so they're untainted by globalisation.
They said, excitedly, a member of their international movement exists in London. Tantalisingly "a UK journalist" and he'd be in touch with me soon. I look forward to that. Wonder what his position will be on imported Belgian chocolate?