No 58 February / March 2025
Art Deco at 100: The pioneers of glamour and geometry
Sardines, soup, and survival: The basement food bank serving the left-behinds The little club that could: Techno temple Fuse is still raving
Where does your trash really go?
We follow the white, yellow, blue, green and orange bags from the curbside to the recycler, composter and incinerator
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FITNESS FAMILY TENNIS WELLNESS POOL
Let’s face it, waste disposal isn’t exactly cocktail party conversation. No one leans in and says, “Tell me more about landfill regulations.” Garbage is something we like to bag up, throw onto the curb and forget about.
But here’s the thing: waste doesn’t just go away. It piles up, breaks down (or doesn’t), and seeps into places we’d rather not think about. That’s why we are taking a closer look at this messy, smelly and frankly, vital world of waste disposal. Whether we want to admit it or not, our trash says a lot about us – what we consume, what we value and how much we’re willing to pass off as someone else’s problem.
As this issue shows, there is no magical land of “away.” Our waste has consequences. It is collected by a phalanx of bin men (and a few women), and sent to facilities for sorting and processing, sometimes to be burned, but more and more to be recycled.
So, hold your nose and dive in - it’s time to talk trash. I did, accompanying Dennis Abbott (pictured above, with me) to the Brussels incinerator to see what happens to the detritus that we throw in our white bags. The incinerator is a waste-to-energy marvel, taking the bags into various pits and ovens, and turning them into useful recycled substances – as well as energy.
We followed the other coloured bags too. Lisa Bradshaw saw what happens to the blue bags that take our plastic and metal waste; Jon Eldridge went to Forest to see how the yellow bags of paper and cardboard waste are treated; Kim Revill joined the binmen as they collected the orange bag of food waste, and Richard Harris witnessed thousands of glass bottles being shattered, crushed and shredded.
This year marks the centenary of Art Deco: in 1925, Paris hosted the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels, which is seen as the starting point for the new style in architecture, art and crafts.
It can sometimes be hard to define. Unlike Art Nouveau, which has distinct flowery twists, Art Deco’s geometry can overlap with modernism and other forms. Plus, there are geographic variations, from New York and Miami to Paris and Lisbon. But Belgium can boast some of the finest examples in the world. Frédéric Moreau celebrates the playful style and identifies the buildings in Brussels and across Belgium that should feature in any pantheon of Art Deco.
Should the Koekelberg Basilica be considered Art Deco? Whatever the style, the gargantuan church initiated by King Leopold II is a polarising Brussels landmark, as Derek Blyth writes. One that is certainly Art Deco is the Boerentoren, or Farmers’ Tower, which has punctured the Antwerp skyline for almost a century. Helen Lyons visits the graceful skyscraper and recalls its controversial construction.
Back on ground level, the Fuse nightclub in the Brussels Marolles neighbourhood has been pounding out thumping tunes for 30 years – and welcoming legends like Daft Punk and Laurent Garnier. Simon Taylor reports on the little club that could.
No one could capture the art of labour like Constantin Meunier, who depicted the dignity of 19th century industrial workers through sculptures – in metal and stone – and on canvas. David Labi examines the artist’s life, and his work on work.
Today’s maps may be accurate, but they lack drama. Those from earlier times, however, were windows on a time when exploration meant artistic liberties. Old maps teach us that humans have always been confidently wrong and remind us that the world was once a thrilling mystery - where sea monsters lurked, continents were misplaced, and ‘Here Be Dragons’ meant ‘We have no idea.’ And over nine pages, we share maps that reveal how the Belgians of yore saw their lands – and the world.
Would-be foster parents can face a nightmare of waiting before knowing if they will ever be able to adopt a child of their own, but as Lisa Bradshaw reports, new initiatives are being launched to make the process much, much easier And Jon Eldridge sees how volunteers in Brussels are helping to feed the left-behinds as they set up soup kitchens and food banks. Philippe Van Parijs crunches the numbers in a Eurobarometer survey to find out how Europe’s – and Belgium’s – knowledge of languages is changing, and how English is becoming more popular.
Angela Dansby takes a weekend break to Poperinge in West Flanders, known as a hops hub – and the refuge for British soldiers during the First World War. Hugh Dow takes the 25 tram from Boondael, near the forest, past the ULB and VUB universities, through the Meiser junction to Place Rogier.
Breandán Kearney visits Brasserie Minne, which brews a beer designed to echo the wild nature of the Ardennes forests. Hughes Belin tries out the Titulus caf é, Escavèche de Chimay, The Nine restaurant and the SØBR alcohol-free beer, while Kurt Karlsson highlights current and upcoming events worth checking out.
Finally, Geoff Meade, pondering the theme of waste, recalls the undignified disposal of his late cat, Tiger.
Leo Cendrowicz
Editor, The Brussels Times Magazine
February / March 2025
The Brussels Times
Avenue Louise 54
1050 Brussels
+32 (0)2 893 00 67
info@brusselstimes.com
ISSN Number: 0772-1633
On the Cover Illustration by Lectrr
Editor Leo Cendrowicz
Publishers
Jonadav Apelblat
Omry Apelblat
Graphic Designer Marija Hajster
Contributors
Dennis Abbott, Hughes Belin, Lisa Bradshaw, Derek Blyth, Angela Dansby, Hugh Dow, Jon Eldridge, Richard Harris, Kurt Karlsson, Breandán Kearney, David Labi, Lectrr, Helen Lyons, Geoff Meade, Frédéric Moreau, Kim Revill, Simon Taylor, Philippe Van Parijs
Advertising
Caroline Dierckx
Gidon Tannenbaum
Klaas Olbrechts
David Young
Please contact us on advertise@brusselstimes.com or +32 (0)2 893 00 67 for information about advertising opportunities.
Photo Credits
Lectrr: Cover, 144, Belga: 8, 10-11, 14-15, 19-20, 22, 106
Eric Ostermann. Instagram: @ bruxelles_par_eric_ostermann: 12-13
Leo Cendrowicz: 20-21, 84-85, 114-116, 124-126
Bruxelles-Propreté/Net Brussel: 24, 30, 34-36, 38-39
Fost Plus: 8, 28, 30-31
Kim Revill: 38
Admirable Facades admirableartdeco.be: 47-52, 55-56, 60-64
Antwerpen ©The Phoebus Foundation: 8, 66, 68-69, 88-93, 94, 96
Fuse archives ©Fred Sablon 8, 74-75
Peter Ooms: 77, 78, 79
Wouter Lambrechts: 77 123RF: 100, 107,145-146
Jon Eldridge: 102-103, 107 ID/ Dirk Vertommen: 104
STIB-MIBV: 127-129
Angela Dansby: 55,118-123
Ashley Joanna: 132-133
Dennis
Lisa
The basement offering a hot meal ticket
Jon Eldridge
The unseen heroes of foster care
Lisa Bradshaw
Europe’s language revolution, the quietest coup ever
Philippe Van Parijs 115 Hop to Pop
Angela Dansby
Helen
Simon
Derek Blyth
The maps of a barely known world – and the imagination
Tram 25, from Boondael to Rogier
Hugh Dow
Breandán Kearney
Hughes Belin
Art and events
Kurt Karlsson 144 Fond memories of trashy Brussels
Geoff Meade
More than a decade later than planned, Mons finally opened its futuristic train station. The station, designed by Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, is effectively a bridge over the tracks connecting the city’s historic centre with the new Grands Prés neighbourhood. It was supposed to be completed by 2012, and then 2015, to coincide with Mons Capital of Culture, but those deadlines were woefully optimistic. Calatrava, who also designed Valencia’s City of Arts and Sciences, New York’s World Trade Centre Transportation Hub and the Liège-Guillemins station, has a controversial reputation: while visually appealing, his constructions often take far longer to build than promised, have major design faults as well as vast cost overruns. A 2022 Court of Auditors report criticised the Mons project for running a flawed architectural competition, its poorly estimated budget and lack of monitoring. The initial budget was €37 million, but the latest SNCB-NMBS estimate puts it at €480 million.
Even by Belgium’s surrealist standards, the sprawling steampunk squid that emerged from the cobblestones in Brussels was an extraordinary sight. With its greenblue tentacles flailing, its machinist headgear and its juxtaposition in Place Poelaert, in front of the Palace of Justice, it is an outlandish conception. Which is what it is meant to be, according to its creator, comic book grandee François Schuiten. “I want to revive the creativity, the imagination, the visionary instincts in Brussels,” he said.
“It is an ode to Brussels.” The 12-tonne bronze sculpture stretches across the square: it is 9.5 metres by 5.5 metres and is 6.50 meters high. While it looks like a squid in a helmet, it is entitled the Nauti-Poulpe (or Nauti-Octopus) and is described as a half-machine, half-cephalopod tribute to Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas. Alas, it is not permanent: it is set to resurface in the French city of Amiens in March where it will remain.
A brutal cold spell swept over Europe in early January, bringing record-low temperatures, heavy snowfall, and widespread disruptions. In Belgium, temperatures in some regions plummeted to below -15°C, as the Arctic blast left a blanket of snow across the country. This landscape picture, shot by an aerial drone picture, is in Bertem, near Leuven.
The Brussels incinerator may not rival its yacht club neighbour in charm, but it plays a regal role in powering the city — and the King’s palace. From managing multilingual trash sorting to handling rogue laughing gas explosions, this waste-to-energy powerhouse processes mountains of white garbage bags, generating electricity and endless surprises. Dennis Abbott peeks into a furnace, dodges radioactive alarms and discovers how Brussels is turning rubbish to resources, one soiled diaper at a time
Dennis Abbott
The sorting rules with all the dos and don’ts are explained on the BruxellesPropreté website in 12 languages – not only French and Dutch but also English, Spanish, Italian, German, Polish, Turkish, Arabic, Romanian, Portuguese and Bulgarian. So, no excuses, folks.
Who would have imagined that talking rubbish could be so enlightening?
When the editor said he wanted us to take a deep dive into waste, it didn’t sound like the most enticing prospect. But within days, he’s arranged for us to visit the country’s biggest refuse incinerator, a few strokes upstream from the Royal Yacht Club on the Brussels Canal.
The two sites, on opposite banks, seem an unlikely pair. The yacht club, built in 1936 after the original pavilion burned down, is one of the most elegant structures on the waterway. The incinerator with its 106-metre chimney stack, erected on Quai Léon Monnoyer in 1985, is not.
While it might lack the architectural elan of its posh neighbour, the incinerator – much expanded in the 40 years since it started operating – boasts a direct connection with the real regal deal, the Royal Family itself. Heat produced from the plant’s ingenious waste management system is piped to King Philippe’s Laeken Palace and the royal greenhouses. It covers the estate’s entire heating needs, reducing its emissions by 2,000 tonnes a year.
The incinerator network also provides heating for the Docks Bruxsel shopping mall and new pipes are being laid to supply nearby schools, public housing and a swimming pool. The plant produces a heck of a lot of steam –nearly three tonnes for every tonne of waste – some of which is used in its turbines to generate electricity for 65,000 households.
And, wait for it, much of this waste-to-energy dividend is down to the thousands of tonnes of white rubbish bags collected from households across Brussels every week (in some areas twice weekly), together with refuse from public bins and containers.
As most readers will know, the white bags are for waste which is not easily recyclable or destined for the other coloured bags, namely: yellow (paper and cardboard), blue (plastics,
metal packaging, drink cartons), orange (food or kitchen waste) and green (garden waste). The white bags can contain everything from food packaging and bike inner tubes to epic quantities of soiled nappies (diapers). Lovely. Agents from the Brussels region waste authority, Bruxelles-Propreté/Net Brussel, check around 300 bags daily to ensure they contain only authorised waste. Failure to use the right coloured bag can result in fines totalling hundreds of euros if they find evidence to nab you.
The sorting rules with all the dos and don’ts are explained on the Bruxelles-Propreté website in 12 languages – not only French and Dutch but also English, Spanish, Italian, German, Polish, Turkish, Arabic, Romanian, Portuguese and Bulgarian. So, no excuses, folks.
Rather confusingly, at least for this observer, private operators also deliver residual waste to the incinerator in purple or blue bags, while brown replaces white in some communes bordering Brussels. In the interests of brevity, let’s just say that white bags alone accounted for 170,000 tonnes of the 460,000 tonnes of waste treated at the plant last year. But back to the visit. We’re welcomed to the complex by Jérémy Hellemans, its youthful-looking CEO and general director for treatment activities. He offers us a warming coffee and shares a box of pastel de nata mini custard tarts he’s picked up en route. Nice one. Hellemans jokes that the vast incinerator, with its myriad machinery and industrial processing, is “like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” And he wastes no time in detailing the myriad challenges faced by the plant, which range from tough recycling targets and the need for regular revamps, to exploding laughing gas canisters (see separate item), and even, on one occasion, being asked by the cops to locate luggage thought to contain a murder
victim’s chopped-up body. It was never found.
The high urban density of Brussels, with its 1.2 million inhabitants, presents particular collection issues. “A lot of people live in old houses that were transformed into apartments where there was no thought about what we are going to do with the waste,” says Hellemans.
Then there are all the different languages and attitudes associated with a multicultural city. “If you take the NATO guy who comes from the US, he doesn't have the same perception of waste as the Scandinavian guy who works for the EU.”
If you’ve ever wondered who collects your rubbish, that depends on where you live. “Collections in some streets are carried out by the region, in others it’s the municipality,” says Hellemans. “Household waste is a public service mission, waste produced by businesses is not.”
Businesses, incidentally, need to make contractual arrangements for waste collection. Some, our host concedes, try to get around this by snaffling white bags meant for residents and surreptitiously dumping them away from their premises. If caught, they face heavy fines.
Like all member states, Belgium is bound by EU legislation. Under the EU Waste Framework Directive, re-use and recycling rates for municipal waste should rise to 65% by 2035.
Garbage truck unloading into the main pit
“Today we are around 30% of recycled waste so it’s a pretty huge gap to be filled,” Hellemans admits.
Nevertheless, according to the European Environment Agency, Belgium is one of the leaders in the EU when it comes to using waste as a resource and achieving a circular economy. Brussels Capital Region brought in separate collection of food waste in 2013, ten years ahead of deadline, and this year sees the introduction of a separate collection of textiles. “Our goal is to reduce the amount of white bags and to increase the waste put in the other bags and collected via the Recyparks,” Hellemans says.
Brussels banned single-use plastic bags in stores in 2020 – so why do the authorities insist on using plastic-coloured bags for household waste collection rather than bins or containers?
While most plastic bags are recyclable these days, it’s not a good environmental look.
In less densely populated communes outside Brussels, the use of bins is more prevalent – and costs much less in the long run than buying plastic bags.
“We are gradually changing the model,” Bruxelles-Propreté spoesperson Adel Lassouli says. “The aim is to move towards underground containers or voluntary drop-off points, wherever possible.”
The regional waste authority has already introduced container collection at around 30 recently built sites in Brussels but a complete change of approach is not feasible due to the city’s high density.
“Because of their narrowness and configuration, many streets cannot accommodate this type of container without raising major urban redevelopment issues,” Lassouli explains. “From experience, we know that even temporary drop-off points, used where roadworks prevent lorries collecting doorto-door, are unsatisfactory in terms of sorting results.”
Collections in some streets are carried out by the region, in others it’s the municipality
“Unsupervised containers can also mean user responsibility and less virtuous behaviour by residents,” Lassouli says, noting that it is common to see bulky items like old mattresses being dumped in temporary containers. “As soon as there’s a mattress there, it acts like a magnet for all sorts of other unauthorised waste.”
A crane operator directs what looks like a giant version of an amusement arcade claw machine, spacing the mounds of white bag waste before feeding them into hoppers which lead to three giant furnaces.
The capital has six such Recyparks, where residents can dispose of bulky items such as electrical appliances, furniture and mattresses. Buda, situated near the incinerator on Chaussée de Vilvoorde and opened last March, is the largest, covering 31,000 square metres. The others are in Anderlecht (Demets), Forest (Humanité and Sud), Auderghem and Woluwe-Saint-Pierre. Bruxelles-Propreté also operates a mobile recypark which rotates between 14 of the city’s 19 municipalities.
More recycling collection points are on Hellemans’ wishlist but he admits the idea is rarely popular. “When you talk about this, people will say, ‘We need one, but not in my street’. We have to deal with this nimby [not in my back yard] effect and communicate to the maximum with citizens that these are essential for Brussels.”
Hellemans would also like to see Bruxelles-Propreté and its associated arms, Bruxelles-Energie, which runs the incinerator, and Bruxelles-Compost, making better use of the canal, especially for transporting waste, although he admits it costs less for now to carry it on trucks.
The incinerator uses water from the canal for cooling and extracting ash during the waste treatment process, but Hellemans argues the whole ‘value chain’ should tap into the resource. “We’re working on this with the Port de Bruxelles to improve access,” he adds.
So what happens to all those white bags once they are collected and arrive at the plant?
It’s time for our grand tour, accompanied by Hellemans, plant safety manager Patrick Vingerhoets and Bruxelles-Propreté spokesperson Adel Lassouli.
Donned in hard hats, safety glasses and high-vis vests, we make our way to the top of an access ramp, which rises around 20 metres from the road below. On arrival, the bin lorries queue to be weighed – and tested for radioactive substances. Gulp. No-one mentions
what happens if the alarm goes off but one hopes it’s a very rare occurrence.
The lorries then move into a vast, high-ceilinged room, completely open to the elements, before each in turn disgorges their loads. Hellemans warns us to prepare for a pong but it’s nowhere near as rank as you’d think. That said, our visit takes place after most of the lorries have left, save a few stragglers. It’s also a very cold day. A visit at the height of summer –the plant welcomes groups every week – might well prove a different story.
A digger is squishing some of the white bags but most are dropped straight into a cavernous, concrete-walled hole on the other side of the entry hall. This can hold up to 6,000 tonnes of refuse at any given time. The mountain of muck is a spectacular sight. We get to see it twice, from a control room window and then from the top of the building, gazing down into
Annual budget: €323m
3,000 employees
840 collection vehicles, 460 heavy trucks
Waste treatment budget: €86m
Total waste incinerated per year: 430,000 tonnes
Total white bag waste incinerated: 170,000 tonnes
a vast pit of putrefaction.
A crane operator directs what looks like a giant version of an amusement arcade claw machine, spacing the mounds of white bag waste before feeding them into hoppers which lead to three giant furnaces, each with a chamber of 470 cubic metres. Normally three sepa-
rate processing lines are in continuous operation, but one is closed for maintenance.
The 20-metre long furnaces blast the waste at 900-1000°C degrees centigrade before it enters a series of pipes and boilers, which break it down into reusable byproducts. These include scrap metal which is sold on, ‘bottom ashes’ transported by boat to the Netherlands for road building and foundations, as well as ‘flying ashes’ used for strengthening mine shafts in Germany. “When you mix the flying ashes with water it ends up like concrete,” explains Hellemans.
The process also incorporates a flue gas ‘DeNOx’ unit which turns nitrous oxides into nitrogen and water, as well as producing heaps of salt for chemical firm Solvay, which uses it in the production of caustic soda, an ingredient in various industrial processes from paper manufacturing to detergents.
“When the plant first opened, everything was burned and went up into the sky,” says Hellemans. “But over the years since it’s been extended and its performance improved to meet new norms and emission rules.”
Theoretically speaking, you can put your head over the top of the chimney and inhale the smoke without any damage to your lungs.
Laughing gas canisters which find their way to the incinerator plant via public waste bins or containers are a major headache, says Brussels incinerator CEO Jérémy Hellemans.
“If there’s some gas left in the bottle when it goes in the furnace, it expands quickly and explodes, causing a lot of damage inside. While the damage is contained, there’s a potential risk for our teams so we’ve had to strengthen our ovens,” he says.
Hellemans shows us a mangled laughing gas canister, ripped apart after exploding. It resembles the remains of a World War I artillery shell.
Laughing gas – or nitrous oxide to give it its proper name –is legally used as an anaesthetic for pain relief in surgery and dentistry as well by the food industry to make whipped cream. However, its euphoric effect, discovered by British chemist Sir Humphry Davy who coined the name laughing gas in 1799, has led to it becoming a popular recreational drug.
Users get a quick ‘high’ by inhaling the gas from a balloon filled from the canister by attaching it to a valve. In large doses, it can cause long-term health issues.
Despite a ban on improper use, the number of recovered canisters has soared, according to Bruxelles-Propreté. In 2024, some 75 tonnes of laughing gas waste were collected, up 50% compared with the previous year, although this figure likely underestimates the scale of the problem.
Last year some 5.3 tonnes of used cylinders turned up in Recyparks, more than double the number in 2023, while 12.4 tonnes were picked up in or near public bins, compared with 2.6 tonnes previously. The share dumped by fly-tippers also
A very small quantity of waste processed at the plant, equivalent to 0.1% or less than 500 tonnes, remains highly toxic. Known as ‘cake’, this is encased in cement and, after undergoing leachability tests to ensure it will not contaminate the earth, is buried at a specialised site in a former quarry.
rose, from 41.6 tonnes to 53 tonnes.
Inevitably, some of the canisters end up in the plant. “It’s a big problem for us,” says Hellemans. “We usually see around 12 shutdowns a year due to unforeseen incidents. Last year we had more than 40 shutdowns, many due to laughing gas bottles. We were the first plant impacted in Belgium. Now all the incinerators in the country are affected.
“Last year, Brussels region paid something like €15 million dealing with this.”
The discarded cylinders are a common sight in many Brussels communes and not just in areas associated with high drug use such as Gare du Midi. “If you see a bottle left on the pavement, don’t pick it up or put it in a public waste bin – because then there’s a risk it will end up in an incinerator,” warns Hellemans. “We have teams out to collect these things.”
Despite federal measures to address improper use, the laughing gas epidemic shows no sign of abating and it is relatively easy to avoid prosecution. “If you’re arrested with a bottle of laughing gas and declare it’s for cooking or medical use, there’s nothing more that can be done,” he claims.
There is no perfect system for collecting and treating waste. We have to constantly adapt. But I’m proud of our environmental performance.
“I won’t actually do it myself,” he laughs, “but we’ve come a long way. If we built the chimney today it wouldn’t need to be nearly as big.
The plant, the largest of 15 waste-to-energy (WtE) incinerators in the country, runs 24/7 with teams of four or five working in three shifts. The three processing lines are completely closed every five years for major maintenance. “There are also mini shutdowns, normally every month or so, if we need to carry out running repairs,” explains Hellemans. “For example, if we have to replace walls and pipes in the ovens. When that happens, we’ll call in mountaineers with ropes to go inside to fix the damage.”
The plant forms part of the ‘waste hierarchy’ established by pioneering Dutch politician Ad Lansink. The Lansink scale distinguishes the steps for treating waste in priority order: prevention, reuse, recycling, energy recovery, incineration and landfill.
While the Brussels incinerator recovers
energy and other useful byproducts, this does not count towards reuse or recycling. “Energy valorisation requires combustion and is less environmentally efficient compared with other recycling process,” explains Hellemans. “That said, any recycling process will involve some remaining materials that can’t be recycled and end up being incinerated. This is why incineration is a key element of the recycling chain.”
A very small quantity of waste processed at the plant, equivalent to 0.1% or less than 500 tonnes, remains highly toxic. Known as ‘cake’, this is encased in cement and, after undergoing leachability tests to ensure it will not contaminate the earth, is buried at a specialised site in a former quarry at Hallembaye near Liège. We are shown a batch of the dark-coloured cake in a large crate. It doesn’t look appetising and I don’t inhale. “The worst we can do is landfill,” Hellmans says – but that accounts for just one thousandth of the region’s total waste.
One of the consequences of increased sorting and recycling is that the plant will inevitably have less waste to process. “We’ve seen a marked decrease in the last two years,” he continues. “The white bags are lighter than before. If we collect 30% less waste, we will have to rethink the way we operate, but that’s in the long term. We’re already working with an ‘ecosystemic’ approach so that the incinerator, the recycling line and composting activity work better together.”
A new biomethanation plant, which will turn food waste into biofuel, is due to open in 2027. “At the moment, a huge amount of trucks are needed to take the orange bags to Ypres to be treated. The idea is to bring them back within the Brussels border and use the waste for heat and electricity generation,” he adds.
“There is no perfect system for collecting and treating waste. We have to constantly adapt. But I’m proud of our environmental performance. It’s one of the best in Belgium.”
Where should you dispose of
1. Glass bottles and jars without food remains
2. Coffee capsules
3. Coffee grounds
4. Hard plastic toys
5. Used pizza box
6. Rubble
7. Medicines and medical waste
Answers
At Montgomery International School, we prioritize a balanced approach that integrates both academic achievement and personal development.
How Montgomery International School nurtures critical thinking, creativity, and community engagement.
Montgomery International School, formerly École Internationale Montgomery, is a bilingual institution located in the heart of Brussels, which is accredited by the IB from primary through to the diploma level.
Aligning with the IB philosophy, MIS’ educational approach prioritizes project-based learning, fostering critical thinking, collaboration, and real-world application of knowledge across all stages of learning.
Project-based learning is an engaging and effective approach that encourages students to learn by actively exploring real-world problems and challenges. It is especially beneficial
for primary school students, as it caters to their developmental needs. At this age, students are often more engaged and retain information better when they actively participate in hands-on activities, rather than simply passively receiving information through lectures or traditional methods.
From the very beginning of their learning journey, our primary students immerse themselves in project-based learning. For example, they explore science by cultivating our garden. They gain insights into the EU and elections through field trips to European institutions and role playing. Math comes to life outdoors, where students engage in games that challenge both their minds and bodies. In their Social Science class they explore the world of journalism by creating videos and podcasts.
In Grade 5 (PYP5) this approach becomes even more focused. Students explore a central theme throughout the year, with each student selecting a more specific topic within that theme. If the common theme is “our planet,” students might focus on subjects like “endangered animals,” “biodiversity,” or “pollution.” They dedicate significant effort to research, ensuring they use reliable sources, gathering visuals, and crafting their written, spoken, and interactive content. All this hard work leads to a year-end exhibition, providing them with an opportunity to demonstrate their ability to synthesize information, express their ideas effectively, and engage with an audience
Project-based learning is also effective for older students as it encourages deeper exploration, critical thinking, and real-world application of knowledge, fostering life-long skills. Currently students are exploring the idea of building a compost container. This hands-on project helps them connect classroom learning to real-world issues like sustainability and environmental impact. It also aligns with the IB transdisciplinary discipline as it can relate to multiple subjects. In science, students explore how decomposition works and learn about ecosystems. In math, they measure materials and track the composting process over time. Social studies comes into play as they discuss sustainability and the importance of waste management. The project also involves
language skills, as students will have to present their findings at the end of the year exhibition.
As they get older, Middle Years Programme students engage in a Mini Enterprise project, working in teams to develop an idea into a product that can be sold at fairs and other special events. A teacher guides them through the process, helping them understand how to bring a product to market, starting with conducting a market survey and creating a business plan, and ending with marketing and communication strategies. Along the way, they acquire valuable skills such as teamwork, leadership, creativity, and communication. Previous projects have included ’yarnimals’, decorative knitted animals, ‘Beapy Heat’, an e-fork that detects food temperature, ‘Lit Up’ a series of decorative candles, etc.
In Grade 10 (MYP5), students undertake a personal project that they will manage from start to finish with the support of a supervisor and the Personal Project coordinator. They are encouraged to explore a new interest or pursue a passion they already have. Each year showcases a diverse array of personal projects, reflecting the creativity and independence of our students. Past projects have included creating and performing a choreography for a poem, producing a video about life in South Korea, developing a workout routine, writing a “You are the Hero” book, designing a flamenco dress, etc.
At the end of the year, students are required to write an essay detailing the process they followed to complete their work. This essay is a crucial component of this exercise, as it encourages students to reflect on their experience, assess the strengths and challenges they faced, and gain insights that will help them improve their approach to future endeavours.
Beyond traditional academics, the IB includes requirements such as CAS (Creativity, Activity, Service) and Service as Action experiences, which encourage students to seek out new opportunities, embrace challenges, and adapt to different roles. Montgomery International School is fully committed to guiding students in choosing challenging projects that will push them beyond their comfort zones and help them build confidence.
To pass the CAS core element, DP students (Grades 11 and 12) are required to dedicate a certain amount of time to projects centered on Creativity, Activity, and Service. They often collaborate with Serve the City Brussels on various initiatives, such as assembling care
packages for those in need or volunteering at a soup kitchen.
For an activity project, some students took on the challenge of running the famous '20km of Brussels,' while a creative project involved the production of an EP, handling everything from writing and composing to recording. As a rule, MIS strongly encourages students to engage in meaningful CAS activities, like fundraising for a cause or taking on challenging sports endeavours, as personal achievements increasingly enhance university applications. Similarly, Service as Action experiences at Montgomery International School are dedicated events where students engage in community service projects, fostering a spirit of empathy and civic engagement. These events provide students with hands-on opportunities to gain a deeper understanding of social responsibility. In the past, students have partnered with Bruxelles Propreté to help clean up public spaces, volunteered at animal shelters, and spent time at centers for individuals with disabilities, raising awareness about their challenges. Through these experiences, students not only contribute to their communities but also develop a greater awareness of social issues and the importance of civic engagement.
At Montgomery International School, we prioritize a balanced approach that integrates both academic achievement and personal development. We believe that cultivating essential personal skills is key to our students’ success, and project-based learning plays a crucial role in this. By encouraging students to actively engage with real-world challenges, we foster critical thinking, collaboration, creativity, and, most importantly, self-confidence.
For more information, visit the website: www.mischool.be
Project-based learning is an engaging and effective approach that encourages students to learn by actively exploring realworld problems and challenges.
Belgium’s blue bag used to be a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a yoghurt pot – except only certain yoghurt pots, and only if they followed an obscure set of rules. But thanks to state-of-the-art sorting and recycling facilities, the country now leads Europe in packaging waste recovery. From conveyor belts of plastic death to the triumph of coffee capsule redemption, Belgium turned its trash troubles into a recycling revolution, as Lisa Bradshaw reports
Anew law came into effect on January 1, 2021, that was a welcome change for anyone (almost everyone) bewildered about how to sort out rubbish in Belgium: all plastics could be tossed into the blue bag.
Until then, there was a lengthy and contentious list of rules of what you absolutely could not put into its sky-coloured bulk. Yoghurt cartons, yes. Yoghurt pots, no. Soda bottles branded with a PET number, OK. Can’t find the PET number? Better not. My personal favourite was the rule that the top of the bottle be narrower than the bottom.
The blue bag now feels like my best friend, easing the guilt inflicted by bringing all that plastic packaging into my home. Plastic bags can go in there! Deodorant cans – even if they are just as big at the top as the bottom! And possibly the gravest thwart to environmental sustainability the world has ever known, coffee capsules.
It’s not just me who is enamoured with all the new possibilities of the bag for PMD (which stands for Plastics, Metals and Drink cartons). Eurostat reports that in 2022, the latest year for which figures are available, 54.2% of plastic packaging put on the market in Belgium was ultimately recycled.
This is up from 49% in 2021 and a significantly lower 45% in 2020. It is the second-highest rate in the 36 European countries reporting – bested only by Italy by just 0.4 percentage points. Belgium’s figure
not only exceeds the EU’s target of 50% by 2025, it is close to the 55% target for 2030. For metal packaging, Belgium is third, with more than 96% being recycled.
And get this: when paper, cardboard and glass are added to the mix, Belgium tops the chart with 80% of all household packaging being recycled in 2022.
“We have a collection scheme that is really very efficient,” says Mik Van Gaever, Chief Operating Officer of Fost Plus, the Ghent-based facility for blue bags. “In Brussels, the blue bags collected from the streets are delivered to a transfer station in Forest, where they are weighed. Then we take over. We load them into 90 cubic-metre trucks, and they head out to the sorting centre in Ghent. Ten trucks a day, sometimes more. They arrive and dump them into a big hall; it’s a sea of blue bags.”
Belgians sometimes say that the only things that serve them all are a monarchy and a football team. But this is not so. The organisation of the recycling process, including the contents of the blue PMD bag, is handled by Fost Plus, which operates in – believe it or not – the entire country.
Van Gaever has worked for Fost Plus for 26 years – first straight out of university with a degree in bioengineering, then again after a stint at another company. “It’s my passion,”
Lisa Bradshaw
When paper, cardboard and glass are added to the mix, Belgium tops the chart with 80% of all household packaging being recycled.
Turns out, Belgium did not have the facilities to do this. In fact, nowhere in Europe had the facilities for it.
the 53-year-old says. “When I graduated, Fost Plus had only been around for a few months. I knew it was a gamechanger.”
Fost Plus began treating the blue bag soon after it opened the plant in 1994. You could say the contents of the blue bags were a large part of the reason for the launch of the whole company. It all started – as so much does – with European legislation, specifically the principle of extended producer responsibility (EPR). This is the policy-making producers responsible for the entire life cycle of their products, including collection, recycling and disposal.
“It means that companies are responsible for the environmental impact of their packaging,” says Van Gaever. “Once you drink a soda, the bottle becomes waste. In the 1990s, people just threw it in the bin. But Europe said that’s no longer the way we are going to do it.”
The EU Waste Framework Directive, which came into force in 2009, states that companies putting packaging on the market are responsible for reaching target recy-
cling rates. “This was a revolution,” he says. “This would not be footed by taxpayers or arranged by the public sector. It was up to industry to organise it – and pay for it.”
If Van Gaever’s look is low-key – a crisp, white dress shirt and barely visible glasses – his delivery is not. His recall of dozens of figures is impressive, and he does not leave my understanding of the recycling process to chance – detailing procedures, materials and decades’ worth of legislation from memory. He waves his arms emphatically, more than once bumping the lamp behind him in a glass-enclosed conference room at Fost Plus headquarters in Evere, in the Brussels region.
While the company is rightly thought of as the nation’s recycling service, its money comes from industry. Any company putting packaged products on the market in Belgium can become a member of Fost Plus, and most of them do. Why? Because companies are required by law to report to the government every year how much of their packaging is being recycled. While reporting the amount of packaging they are sending into the market is easy enough, knowing how much of it is being recycled is nearly impossible.
Fost Plus does the reporting on behalf of its members as a whole. Member companies report to Fost Plus how much of every very specific type of packaging they put on the market. Fost Plus weighs all the different fractions of plastics and metals that arrive from the sorting centres. Then it calculates the percentage based on tons of material recycled compared to tons of material put on the market.
Of course, some recyclables getting chucked into the PMD bag originate from companies that are not members of Fost Plus. But not much. Fost Plus’s 4,900 members make up some 83% of the Belgian market. Members are local affiliates of major multinationals like Coca-Cola, Unilever and Huawei, along with big Belgian companies such as Ecover, Inex and Forté Pharma. And then there are thousands of medium and small, local producers of goods – from hardware to fashion to frozen food.
Belgium’s packaging commission “has to report our figures to Europe as well as the companies who are not members of Fost Plus,” Van Gaever explains. “And we have also what we call free-riders. These are companies that do not join Fost Plus and that do not report their figures to the government. They just stay under the radar and don’t pay.”
Free-rider contribution to packaging and recycling is estimated and, together with Fost-Plus members and non-members, the figures are supplied to the European Commission. That’s where the 54% recycle rate
comes from. But it’s possibly too conservative. Fost Plus’ figure for the recycling rate among plastic packaging contributed by its members is in fact 68%.
As the EU’s targets grew, so did the need to incorporate more materials into the PMD bag. And Belgium’s targets are even more ambitious than the EU’s. Before 2020, Belgium told Fost Plus to reach a 65% plastics recycling rate (relative to its members) by 2030. It has already exceeded this goal, but the effort was gargantuan.
“We knew that we were going to have to focus on a whole range of plastics,” says Van Gaever. “We had to collect everything in order to have a remote chance to reach 65%. And then we’d have to convince 11 million people to put everything in the blue bag.”
That last part, as discussed earlier, was easy. Getting every kind of plastic packaging sorted for recycling was another matter.
Turns out, Belgium did not have the facilities to do this. In fact, nowhere in Europe had the facilities for it. So a call for tenders went out, inviting European companies to build more comprehensive sorting facilities in Belgium. The sorting facilities were built over three years as the “throw everything in the blue bag” system was rolled out. Van Gaever smiles. “It was a hell of a job.”
Belgium now has six state-of-the-art sorting centres for the contents of the PMD bag – three in Flanders and three in Wallonia – which sort, crush and bale all that waste. All of Brussels’ blue bags go to the biggest sorting centre, PreZero, in the harbour area of Ghent. It handles 85,000 of Belgium’s total 300,000 tons of PMD waste every year.
Witnessing the life cycle of a plastic bottle from when it gets dumped on a conveyor belt in the massive cavern that is PreZero to when it is spat out into its fraction at the end is, to paraphrase Van Gaever, a hell of a thing.
First, everything goes through a giant, spinning sieve so the smaller bits – like the coffee capsules – fall away. The rest then moves through a tunnel, where the lighter plastic bags (including the blue bags) are literally hoovered up.
Next, steel-based tins fly up and land on a strongly magnetic belt that curves upward away from the stream that continues to where optical sensors identify drink cartons, which are extracted via spurts of compressed air. A magnetic current separa -
tor takes care of the aluminium and then you’ve got heavier plastics left over. “The reflection of infrared lights is different depending on which kind of PET it is,” explains Van Gaever. “The computer gives instructions to air nozzles to eject the bottles at the right time.”
Once all is said and done, there are 16 flows of separated waste. At the end, workers give it all a once over. “Maybe they see an opaque bottle where only clear bottles are supposed to go. Or a plastic film that should have been sucked into the vacuum but wasn’t. We still need the human brain to get us through the last mile. We need top-quality sorted material in order to go on to the next step.”
So what is the next step? To the recycling centres, of course, where all that stuff actually gets recycled.
Belgium has six new recycling centres for plastic, which – again – had to be built to re-
Steel-based tins fly up and land on a strongly magnetic belt that curves upward away from the stream that continues to where optical sensors identify drink cartons, which are extracted via spurts of compressed air.
The melted plastic is pushed through a fine sieve to remove remaining impurities, and then it's pushed through another, larger sieve, resulting in plastic spaghetti.
cycle the additional kinds of plastics going into the blue bags. Again, the level of automation is astonishing.
Let’s look at that bottle of water you drank a few weeks earlier. Together with thousands of other bottles made up of the same plastic components, it is shredded before going into what amounts to a giant washing machine. The plastic flakes are then melted at 250°C, causing degasification, which removes impurities.
The melted plastic is pushed through a fine sieve to remove remaining impurities, and then it's pushed through another, larger sieve, resulting in plastic spaghetti (I’m not being clever here – the industry actually calls them spaghetti).
The dried spaghetti is cut across to get granules, and there’s your ready-to-use plastic. “They have huge silos full of perfectly transparent recycled PET granules,” Van Gaever says. These are sold to plastics manufacturers when the entire cycle starts all over again.
Being a proud Ghent native, I’m chuffed that the biggest sorting centre is in my neighbourhood. I also want to hear that Ghent residents are the country’s greatest recyclers. They aren’t. They do fine, but Namur stands out as the king of recycling, with an average of 30kg of PMD per resident per year being collected.
Who’s at the bottom of the class? Well, Brussels, at about 17kg per person per year. But Van Gaever is loathe to give me the names of the best and worst cities, not least because he says the reasons are complex.
No one knows this better than Alain Ma-
ron, Brussels region’s minister of the environment and cleanliness. “Many factors can influence waste collection performance for the blue and yellow bags,” he tells me, pointing to a study carried out by the capital’s research-action project Citizen Waste. It lists several barriers to separating all that household waste that are specific to the capital. A big part of it is “a lack of space for sorting and storing waste until it is collected,” says Maron. “We have small homes, small kitchens, no balconies and a lack of bin space in apartment blocks.”
Both Van Gaever and Maron also note that language – the ability to understand all those sorting instructions – can be a hindrance. There’s also, says Maron, “a high rate of arrivals and of homes occupied by tenants and insufficient accessibility to sorting facilities.”
But his administration is committed, he says, to improving the situation. “We have put in place the first concerted public cleanliness strategy in Brussels in 30 years – clean.brussels. Brussels needs to produce less waste – some 500,000 tonnes of unsorted waste is burnt every year.” The region means to reduce that by 30% over the next five years in part by making businesses more responsible for waste production and management, introducing a ban on single-use plastics in public administration and making it compulsory for everyone to sort organic waste.
But Brussels is not holding the country back when it comes to being the master recyclers in Europe. “We are at the head of the pack,” Van Gaever says. “As Belgians, we are quite modest, but we can say that the system that has been installed is really one of the most performing, cost-efficient systems in the world.”
Fascinating presentation for everyone, not to be missed during your stay in the capital of Europe !
Be amazed ! Mini-Europe is a park featuring all the wonders of Europe, in miniature. Bonsai trees, flowery groves and dwarf trees embellish the 350 monuments which have been reproduced at scale 1/25. Thousands of lifelike figurines and animations! Set off the eruption of the Vesuvius and admire the takeoff of the Ariane rocket. The two hour walk, which is both entertaining and educational, will let you (re)discover the member states of the European Union and the UK, their historical, architectural and cultural wealth.
Fun!
A trip full of surprises. Take the controls of the many opportunities for interactive live action that stud the route.
Fascinating!
Have fun learning! Behind the captivating universe of the miniature monuments, the dramatisation and live action, relive our surprising common history
with its values and Greek, Roman, Viking heritages. You will find commentary at every stage of the journey in the free catalogue that is teeming with information and anecdotes that will delight children, those with a sense of curiosity and those passionate about history.
Did you know?
Unrivalled quality of artistry. The Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela alone involved 24,000 hours of work. At 13 meters, the Eiffel Tower is taller than a 3-storey building.
Indoor space.
Located at the end of the park, the ‘Spirit of Europe’ welcomes you into a large covered space where live action models, games and quizzes will give you the chance to test, enrich or perfect your knowledge of the member states of the European Union.
From a bustling processing site in Forest, yellow bags of paper and cardboard waste embark on a meticulous sorting journey, as Jon Eldridge discovers
The paper recycling process includes vast chemical baths that further sift out undesirable elements, leaving only the reusable cellulose fibres to be scraped away from the bottom of the vat.
Around midday, the canteen of the processing site in Forest is abuzz with activity. The concentration of so many yellow-vested individuals gives the impression of a human beehive, but these are the industrious folk who collect your recyclable waste for the Brussels region’s waste collection agency, Bruxelles-Propreté. The yellow bags they gather from the 19 Brussels communes are brought here to be sorted before being baled up and sent to recycling facilities, both home and abroad.
A short distance from the parking lot and the employee canteen are the warehouses that process the 50,000 tonnes of card and paper waste collected each year. Most of this waste, some 38,000 tonnes, comes from households, and the rest from offices.
The facility’s operation manager Bart Wouters says that the volume of waste has increased significantly since the COVID-19 pandemic, which saw a sharp growth in online shopping. Items bought online often come in cardboard packaging, which then makes its way into the yellow bag.
As do many items that shouldn’t. And this is where the labyrinthine sorting process comes into play. Indeed, the warehouses contain such a vast array of hurtling shoots and zipping conveyor belts that first-time visitors can easily lose their bearings.
It starts with a huge mountain of bagged and
unbagged paper and packaging waste on one side of a capacious and strangely dusty hangar. Wouters mentions with a shrug that occasionally a member of the public requests the opportunity of retrieving an item – but there is fat chance of that happening.
From here, a lifting truck feeds the waste material into a container that sifts it onto a first ascending belt. The yellow sacks are split and extracted in subsequent stages, but are not themselves recycled. The plastic is of poor quality, according to Wouters, and always contains some amount of residue paper that renders it of little value to recycling firms.
The conveyors seem to spin faster as the waste progresses to a filtering system that depends on artificial intelligence camera technology: the camera spots items to be removed and shunts them to the side. Nevertheless, two people work speedily behind the machine, picking overlooked undesirable items out of the belt by hand.
Around 2% of waste is sorted into the wrong waste bags. In fact, employees will spot the odd strip of plastic or the glint of a tin can at every stage of the process – from reception to the final bales of sorted material ready for transportation.
A skip full of metallic objects below the walk-
Jon Eldridge
way platform shows how some people make mistakes, while a similar mound of stones and bricks really makes you wonder what people were thinking. Currently, however, the most curious misassigned items – and perhaps the most problematic – are nitrous oxide, or laughing gas, canisters. “These always contain a small amount of residual gas, which can explode in the recycling process,” says Wouters.
Investing in more equipment would improve the quality of the resource material that comes out the other end, but Wouters says the recycling firms are satisfied with the product that Bruxelles-Propreté ultimately sells – and notes that they have the apparatus to further sort the waste.
He also explains that the paper recycling process includes vast chemical baths that further sift out undesirable elements, leaving only the reusable cellulose fibres to be scraped away from the bottom of the vat. Since this process shortens the length of the fibres, paper can only be recycled around seven times.
The first paper recycling pilot projects in Brussels were launched in 1999, and since 2010 residents have been legally obliged to sort their household waste.
At the Bruxelles-Propreté processing site in Forest, around 300 bags are checked every day, and between 15% and 30% of the bags contain an item that can identify the address of the household it came from (waste miscreants can be traced through their trash). Poorly sorted waste can result in a €300 fine, but it is impossible to determine how many people don’t sort their waste, according to Wouters. Plus, most bags are not especially well sorted. “Better sort-
ing would yield 10% more recyclable material.”
He also believes the next stage in our recycling journey is more widespread use of orange bags for food waste – Wouters says the state of food waste reuse is currently where paper recycling was a couple of decades ago.
Around half the paper and packaging waste sorted in Brussels is shipped to Asian countries that have a strong manufacturing sector. Countries such as Bangladesh, Indonesia, Singapore and Thailand export goods to Europe on ships in containers that can be filled with the Bruxelles-Propreté recyclable material on their return journey. On face value, one might question the carbon footprint, but Wouters insists these containers would not be filled otherwise.
The processing site in Forest is also the destination of green waste, including garden waste, park waste and, perhaps unexpectedly, Christmas tree waste.
Discarded Christmas trees are a familiar, if somewhat depressing, sight on the streets of Brussels in January. But they will become compost to sustain the growth of trees for future festivities.
On a large forecourt near the warehouses in Forest, the branches and trunks are fed into a machine that strips them down and traps oxygen that is essential for the composting process. This five-week operation also requires regularly sifting and turning over the piles of compositing matter, with the larger parts fed back into the system to be further broken down.
Heat is a natural byproduct of the process, and the temperature of the compost can reach a scalding 70° Celsius. When it cools down to 30° Celsius, the compost is ready to be put on sale. The heat, however, produces a white vapour, which some dutiful members of the public, especially drivers on the adjacent E19
Better sorting would yield 10% more recyclable material.
motorway, regularly mistake for an indication of fire.
“The emergency service asks the caller what colour the smoke is, and if it’s white, then it’s fine,” says Wouters. “Habemus papam!”
‘There is more to us than we know’
The words of Kurt Hahn handsomely reflect the rationale of our approach to all aspects of school life at BJAB – the British Junior Academy of Brussels. Many in education have become obsessed with either developing skills or knowledge, a false dichotomy which misses the point, I feel; clearly both are needed! We aim to develop in our students a set of values and the kind of nimbleness and agency that will turn them into capable global citizens. Headteachers far too frequently fall into the trap of talking of ‘twenty-first century skills’, as if they were something we need to develop for some distant future, conveniently forgetting that we are almost a quarter of the way
through this century already…
It is naturally a given that a school with high standards attaches great importance to its academic curriculum and of course we do – there is ‘no ceiling’ for children at BJAB. We benchmark ourselves using standardized testing at Primary and Cambridge Checkpoint Tests at age 13-14, alongside Cambridge IGCSE courses which began last September and the prospect of the International Baccalaureate Diploma (IBDP) programme in a year’s time.
On the pastoral side of school life our class teachers from Pre-K up to Year 6 do incredible work in supporting, nurturing and developing young minds all the way along this truly exciting journey. At lower secondary level this role is undertaken by our ‘vertical tutors’ – so-called as each tutor mentors mixed ages, meaning that the children get to collaborate with peers from other year groups too. From Year 10 our tutoring system becomes horizontal again, with a specialist taking responsibility for a year group, supporting them as they head towards important public examinations. This excellence and determination to achieve the highest standards possible in both the academic and pastoral spheres is of course all well and good, but where I am especially excited at BJAB is in the development of our co-curriculum, spanning all levels from Pre-Kindergarten at age two and a half right up to our current eldest students in Year 10 and beyond.
We are proud to be candidate members of Round Square (RS), a superb organization going back more than 50 years and formed of over 260 schools from most corners of the world, from South America to Australia and from Africa to India, as well as a strong showing in Europe, though BJAB proudly remains the only Round Square school in any of the Benelux countries. We are strong advocates of ‘character education’ based on the RS IDEALS of Internationalism, Democracy, Environment, Adventure, Leadership and Service with our younger pupils really engaging with the ‘Heroes of Discovery’. Sustainability Suki, Teamwork Tino, Compassionate Carlos et al. have all brought the IDEALS home to our younger pupils in a succinct and effective way. Our secondary students have made full use of a wide range of ‘Geo’, ‘History’ and ‘Language Labs’ - rather different to the tape-driven booths I remember from my own school, back in the day! They are able to exchange views regularly with their counterparts in very
different contexts and countries all around the world – how fascinating for example for our Year 10 IGCSE historians to compare and contrast their view of the Second World War with students from Munich, Japan, the US and India? How much more refreshing than a textbook is it to research sustainable tourism by comparing the situation in Belgium with peers in India, The Bahamas and Columbia? The possibilities are truly endless…
The icing on the cake for our Year 11 students will be to spend ten days in September in Dubai with 1400 other young people, taking part in baraza discussions, meeting lots of people and dealing with a plethora of themes, inter alia sustainability and progress, biodiversity, urban farming, renewable energy and water conservation, as well as the obligatory visit to the Burj Kalifa and the inspiring ‘Museum of the Future’.
Our Year 9 students all follow the Bronze Duke of Edinburgh programme, not merely as an interesting and meaningful addition to their curriculum vitae, but as a means of finding more out about themselves, as they step out of their comfort zone. Our first cohort completing Bronze were delighted to be invited to the British Residence back in the Autumn, along with the 470 or so other participants across Belgium. To do so, they had planned and carried out practice and assessed expeditions, which took them on foot across the Ardennes, with a more demanding route awaiting in Luxembourg at Silver level and the dazzling prospect of the French Alps at Gold.
Whilst these two new departures are innovative and new, they very much follow what has always been the case traditionally at BJAB – a wide range of activities and after-school clubs, from Scottish dancing to embroidery, from coding and robotics to debating, drama and sports.
Trips too are essential – from that exciting first Kindergarten trip to the park looking at ‘The Signs of Autumn’ right up to our Year 9
and 10 trips this year to Madrid and Paris respectively, the sense of discovering the real world is a key one. Our plans for post-IGCSE and post-IBDP are for trips to far-flung destinations, with ideas mooted of NASA, Guadeloupe and Vietnam – the sky really is the limit.
As Goethe said:
‘Zwei Dinge sollen Kinder von ihren Eltern bekommen: Wurzeln und Flügel’ (‘Children need two things from their parents: Roots and Wings’.)
The skills that the students at BJAB develop are designed to help them throughout their future lives – we are providing them with strong roots and foundations, as well as wings, with which ultimately to fly away – though the same wings can bring them back to us later of course. My experience has shown that they invariably do!
Do come and visit us on our Open Day on Wednesday, 12th March - it would be a pleasure to see you there.
Francis Retter, Head of BJAB www.bjab.org
Brussels' binmen are on a mission – dodging roadblocks, wrangling rogue recyclers, and gracefully navigating the city's tight corners. Kim Revill hitches a ride in an orange bag collection truck, and finds out how food waste is being turned into fuel
The prospect of getting my hands dirty and doing some honest graft appealed to my better nature, so when I was invited to ride in the cabin of a garbage truck, I was sold on the idea of doing the rounds with the bin men.
My mission was to board one of the Brussels region’s 400 waste collection vehicles. I was on a truck collecting orange bin bags containing food waste in the streets of Ixelles.
Orange bag collection became mandatory in May 2023 and the region uses the biodegrading food waste to create renewable energy. The science bit will come later.
But first, I need to get into the high truck cabin. I have to lift my right foot up as far as it can stretch to reach the first step – I am not a regular at the yoga class – followed by my left, and haul myself up to the cabin. Thank goodness I wore sensible shoes with grips.
Once on board, I meet with Alexander and Cesse, my co-workers for the afternoon. Alexander is at the wheel and Cesse is the sole collector today of the orange bins.
I use the words co-workers in jest. They carry out all the work and I simply hang on tightly when Alexander turns the tricky corners in the tight streets of Ixelles. I do shake my head here and there when someone is discourteous on the road, and utter the odd tut at a pedestrian who looks like they are about to step into our path. Does moral support like this qualify as hard graft?
It is like a giant obstacle course before us at times when copious road closures seemed to sabotage our collection route. I see the street map on Alexander’s clipboard. He uses his instincts to find his way towards the designated pick-up street. And no, satnav does not help – road closures are invariably not on the radar.
Despite this, Alexander remains calm and cheerful. Unlike some other road users, he does not yell expletives and there is
no gesticulating. He stays sanguine, despite his collection shift clashing inconveniently with the end of the school day.
Of course, he pauses patiently for schoolchildren to safely cross the road. During our journey, he waits for quite a few parked (illegally and or seemingly abandoned) cars to move out of his way without a hint of exasperation. On one occasion during our round, Alexander dutifully stops for a group of languid kids, apparently oblivious to our truck. Very slowly and methodically, they place their colourful rucksacks, one-by-one, in the boot of a badly parked car before taking their seats.
The mood lifts when we see a boy of about 12 waiting on the sidewalk before daring to cross. He looks up at us and waves enthusiastically, giving a thumbs up. Alexander beckons to him to cross the street. The boy places his palms together in a gesture of gratitude, crosses, repeats it on the other side and then waves again, smiling broadly. It makes our day and Alexander is happy. “We don’t see many people like him,” he says. Two streets along, the boy pops up again, this time waving with both hands.
A usual shift begins at 5.30am and ends around 10.30am. Alexander is used to the early starts but today is a bit of a treat as it begins in the middle of the afternoon. Shifts can also be staggered to avoid heavy congestion in the city.
Brussels is a dense city with different social patterns in the centre, the west or the south. But the waste is collected in very different neighbourhoods every day of the year, come rain, snow or shine.
Fluctuations in the quantities produced are another challenge, and binmen have to ensure that their trucks run at a sufficient fill rate without clogging up the roads. They also have to take into account where people live: collecting bags in the south-east of Brussels, where there is more space, is not
Kim Revill
They also have to take into account where people live: collecting bags in the south-east of Brussels, where there is more space, is not the same as collecting them in the centre or the north of the city.
Collecting teams can carry out spot checks and fines of between between €100 and €600 can be imposed should one break the rules and sneak in the wrong item.
the same as collecting them in the centre or the north of the city. So they have trucks of different sizes – and the one I’m on is actually one of the smaller vehicles.
Alexander has been doing it for nine years and prefers driving to collecting but has worked in both areas. Before you moan and groan when you are stuck behind a garbage truck, spare a thought for people like him. His driving skills are outstanding around tight urban road bends. “Yes, it can be difficult to drive these streets, but I do enjoy it,” he says. “You do get even better at driving these big machines.”
Irresponsible, or simply forgetful households can make Alexander and Cesse’s job difficult if a potentially harmful inanimate imposter is placed in the bag. They once discovered a breadknife in one of the orange bags. Luckily nobody was hurt and when
questioned the culprit said they had simply forgotten to take it out of the bread. “It was found still stuck with the bread,” Alexander says. Collecting teams can carry out spot checks and fines of between between €100 and €600 can be imposed should one break the rules and sneak in the wrong item.
Alexander’s seat suspension looks fun but is designed to move with him should he meet a particularly troublesome pothole on the road. At times, I say, he seems like he is riding a Bucking Bronco machine. He laughs and agrees.
At one point, he steps down from the cab briefly to put the rear-view camera back in place after it was slightly out of sync, probably due to the truck running into a pothole. The camera sits on the dashboard as it has to pick up the image of Cesse who jumps deftly on and off a platform at the back of the trick. Any accidents or close shaves? Of course not, they are both good professionals, they say.
My journey has come to an end. I step down, but Alexander has to move to another part of the neighbourhood. I thank them for their time. An irony dawns on me: despite taking part in a waste collection exercise, I do not have dirty hands. I did try – but health and safety regulations prevent me from helping Cesse!
Now for the science bit.
Bruxelles-Propreté, the agency responsible for the collection and managing the region’s refuse, says the new rules have led to a steady rise in the amount of food waste collected in the orange bags: in the first 10 months of 2024, it rose by more than 30% compared with the same period the previous year.
Once bound for the city’s incinerator where it was blended with other rubbish in white bin bags, food waste can now be left to happily biodegrade organically. This cuts greenhouse gases released into the air from burning waste. Decomposed organic matter turns into compost that can be transformed into biogas, a renewable form of energy.
The result, officials say, is that 4,000 tonnes of carbon dioxide is no longer polluting the skies in the city – equivalent to 4,000 round-trip flights between Brussels and New York.
Brussels region aimed to collect 25,000 tonnes of food waste by the end of 2024 and that objective was successfully met. But officials say that figure could still significantly improve with the public’s help – and Bruxelles-Propreté has recently launched a major awareness campaign on the issue.
The campaign was launched in five languages: French, Dutch, English, Spanish and Arabic – with additional languages on the Bruxelles-Propreté website - in a bid to drive home the importance of recycling food waste. The core message is: Sorting My Waste is Smart.
Globally, around one-third of all food is lost or wasted, amounting to 1.3 billion tonnes per year. Food loss and waste account for 8% of global greenhouse gas emissions, more than three times that of aviation's contribution. Organic matter that rots in landfill sites also releases large amounts of methane, a potent gas that is up to 80 times more powerful than carbon dioxide over a 20-year time span. So composting food waste instead of sending it to landfill can help reduce the amount of methane released into the atmosphere.
Bruxelles-Propreté – the second largest public employer in the region with more than 3,000 workers – is keen to spread the word that orange bins are available to all households, free of charge and can be delivered upon request or collected from their local Recypark.
In addition to their awareness campaign, a dedicated organic plant for food and environmental waste is set to open along the canal near the Buda Bridge in 2027. Food and green waste are currently taken to a recycling centre in Ypres/Ieper, some 127km from Brussels, but the new plant will be in the industrial zone near Vilvoorde and the ring road – and close to the existing North Wastewater Treatment Plant.
The plant will use biomethanation, a process whereby organic material is converted into biogas, a more environmentally friendly energy source. The facility will treat between 35,000 and 40,000 tonnes of waste per year
and between 4,000 and 5,000 of green waste, producing around 5,000 tonnes of compost. It will also generate heat and electricity through the biofuel corresponding to the output of two onshore wind turbines – meeting the energy requirements of about 4,000 people.
Many people are still unsure what and what not to place in their orange bags, and some still throw out paper, which cannot decompose, with the food and bones. Getting it right is vital if decomposition at a biomethanation plant is to work.
Bruxelles-Propreté hopes the public can help bring about a move to a more sustainable environment by taking a more efficient approach when throwing out household waste. The agency says its public service is based on “a partnership with residents”, and if the bags are not properly sorted, closed and presented for collection, the whole treatment process is undermined.
The ‘buy-in’ dimension is crucial. Sorting and recycling household waste are not the only factors affecting our quality of life, officials say, but by sorting correctly, we can play a practical part in improving the air quality, cleanliness and friendliness of our region.
Hence the awareness campaigns to continually remind residents of the environmental necessity of sorting their waste and materials and putting their bags alongside the front of their homes.
And the messaging is not just marketing. Waste collection teams, Alexander and Cesse included, are joining in, educating the public during the campaign by even knocking on doors to spread the message about the importance of correct recycling. So, if you do see them, take a moment to chat.
The result is that 4,000 tonnes of carbon dioxide no longer pollute the skies in the city – equivalent to 4,000 round-trip flights between Brussels and New York.
Ever wondered where your empty wine bottle goes after its unceremonious drop into a bottle bank?
It embarks on an epic journey—sailing canals, dodging rogue diapers and engaging with industrial shredders, before perhaps reemerging as a pristine new bottle, as Richard Harris reports
The magical process of giving your used glass another chance at a meaningful existence begins at the bottle bank, the big metal container where your neighbours judge you for the sheer volume of wine bottles you deposit. But tossing your glass in here is the easy part. Behind the scenes, local authorities and recycling companies scurry to collect these bottles and jars to transport them to a recycling facility.
This part begins when the used glass is collected from bottle banks, which are split into clear and coloured sections in the Brussels region. The Brussels region waste authority, Bruxelles-Propreté, collects some 26,000 tonnes of used glass per year, and it is all delivered to a storage space alongside the canal, next to the region’s incinerator.
From here, the glass is loaded onto river barges of 1,000 to 1,700 tonnes and ferried north on the Willebroek Canal, through interconnected waterways until it reaches the Albert Canal, which runs from Antwerp to Liège. The final destination, GRL Glass Recycling, is in Lummen near Hasselt, around the midpoint of the canal, and just 35km from the Dutch border.
“I think glass is one of the most wonderful products to recycle because you can recycle it over and over again,” says GRL Managing Director Martine Meuws. “For paper and cardboard, for example, after six or seven times, you need to use primary material because it's finished. With glass, you can use it thousands of times and it doesn't lose its specifications.”
Lummen is one of Europe’s biggest glass recycling plants processing up to 200,000 tonnes of waste glass a year. It is not directly on the canal, so the glass still has to be trucked from the docked barges. However, a new €39 million facility in Beringen, 10km away, will replace Lummen lat -
er this year. It fronts the canal, so the glass can be unloaded directly from the barges, allowing them a 40% increase in barge transporting.
Once at the facility, the glass undergoes rigorous screening, because, let’s face it, not all recyclers are responsible. The first step is the removal of large contamination pieces. “This includes diapers, shoes and other things that you wouldn’t imagine you would find,” says Meuws, a 30-year veteran of the recycling business.
The other steps in the glass sorting are done by hand at the Lummel facility, but at the new one, it will be done by magnets, eddy current separators and optical sorters.
Beringen’s magnets pull out ferrous waste, while the eddy current separators remove nonferrous objects such as aluminium pieces attached to bottlenecks (which can then be recycled separately).
Optical sorters, using sensors and cameras to check each item, are applied to sort out the ceramic stones and porcelain (CSP). These sensors figure out the material type, shape and colour, which helps the machine quickly sort them into different categories.
The CSP needs to be removed because of different melting points. Coloured glass melts at 1,400°C but at 2,000°C for CSP, so if it is in the mix, it won’t melt and there will be small pieces of CSP in the newly made bottles.
GRL’s clients have stringent quality control specifications. For instance, they are allowed just 20 grams of CSP per tonne of glass waste. The optical sorter also identifies heat-resistant glass, which is also unusable since its melting point is too high. The one thing that the optical sorter cannot currently do is recognise black glass, so it rejects luxury bottles such as those used for cava or perfume.
Both plants have the next stages, where the glass waste is broken into smaller pieces with a shredder before going through several sieves to sort them out by size.
The shreds then head into furnaces. The glass is not washed at any point, but it is cleaned in the furnaces, which are heated to 200° C. This is followed by a de-labelling machine: rows of rotating hammers remove all the organic matter such as labels.
The final product that GRL sells is called cullet, which are the clean pieces of broken glass used to make new bottles and jars. Very little is lost in the processing: some 95% of the material that comes into GRL from Brussels emerges as cullet, which is
then bought by glass producers across Europe and South America.
Producers prefer cullet as it melts at a lower temperature than raw materials, which means less energy is used to create new glass. It’s mixed with fresh raw materials – and, soda ash, and limestone – and heated into a molten state. This glowing, lava-like mixture is then moulded into new bottles, jars, or even fibre insulation. And just like that, your recycled beer bottle might return to you in another form.
“So, it's a very sustainable and economic way to make new bottles because they don't need as much energy to use cullet as they need with primary materials,” Meuws says.
GRL’s new facility will be more eco-friendly: as well as being on the waterfront, it has 15,000 square metres of solar panels on its roofs which will generate 40% of its electricity needs. And instead of burning gas to heat the furnaces, the Beringen plant is connected by pipes to a nearby incinerator: the steam generated by the incinerator will fuel GRL’s furnaces.
While glass is 100% recyclable – and can be endlessly recycled with no loss of quality – this can only happen if there is a dedicated system to collect and process the glass. That is now the case in Belgium, and across Europe.
“The days of most everything going into landfill are over,” Meuws says. “I think we can be very proud in Belgium for where we are. We are one of the top countries in recycling for a lot of materials: plastics, paper, metals, and, of course, glass,” she says.
It's a very sustainable and economic way to make new bottles because they don't need as much energy to use cullet as they need with primary materials.
The pillars on which education at AIS stands are our Academics, Sports and the Arts.
Since 1967, AIS has offered world-leading, high-quality education in a multicultural, respectful and safe environment. Accredited by the International Baccalaureate, AIS offers the internationally recognised Primary Years Programme (PYP), Middle Years Programme (MYP) and Diploma Programme (DP), providing young learners with an excellent education in a rigorous yet supportive environment.
With almost 50 nationalities represented in our diverse student body, there is room for everyone in our caring and welcoming community.
AIS is a small school where big things happen. Located in the leafy suburbs north of Antwerp, our school provides a haven away from the busy city while still being well-connected by train and bus networks. With a variety of activities offered and run by other parents including English classes, Booster Club, Costume Department and even Bootcamp, parents can thrive and find community here.
We know that our young learners spend much of their time at school; it’s where they will learn to connect and collaborate with others. We take this knowledge seriously and are dedicated to providing the best education we can to our students. With a student-to-teacher ratio of 7.1:1, you can be confident that your child is being provided with personalised attention to their learning needs and goals.
Holistic education
The pillars on which education at AIS stands are our Academics, Sports and the Arts. These three ideals anchor and ground our system to ensure students receive well-rounded and holistic education both inside and outside the classroom. AIS strives to support all students in becoming versatile, forward-thinking individuals, ready to enter the world beyond school.
For several years, our DP pass rate has been exceptional, ranging between 94-100%. Students are pushed to excellence and encouraged to reach their full potential.
Learning is both a process and a product, deeply intertwined with and ingrained in our human uniqueness. AIS aims to support this endeavour by providing our students with the highest quality education we can offer in facilities that improve their learning experience. Through interdisciplinary learning, students exercise the ability to apply their knowledge and make connections to the real world.
Primary students focus on meaningful action in their community based on their learning. This is achieved through community building and implementing their new skills to make a difference in their communities and the world. During the MYP, students fulfil a Service as Action (SA) requirement where they develop and provide meaningful changes through service to better the community. In the DP programme, students then take on Creativity, Activity and Service
(CAS) in which they reflect on their work involving these three ideas in significant ways that positively impact themselves and the community. These projects aim to strengthen and grow our students’ bodies and minds beyond coursework that is ignited through their personal passions.
The Griffins sports programme is an integral part of student education at AIS. On average, 75% of AIS students from Grades 5 to 12 put on a Griffin uniform each year, illustrating the popularity of the programme. Competition is offered in Football, Volleyball, Cross Country, Basketball, Swimming, Golf, Softball, Track & Field and Tennis.
Our school is known for punching above its weight in all sports because of the excellent training provided by our coaches. Our philosophy is to professionally prepare students for competition while ensuring enjoyment of the game. AIS competes in the Northwest European Council of International Schools (NECIS) sports tournaments each year, providing students with the opportunity to travel and compete around northern Europe.
Every student can find their voice in the Arts programme offered at AIS. During Primary years, students will be exposed to several disciplines of art including: Visual Art, Music and Drama. Students interested in specialising in an instrument or taking voice lessons are encouraged to take part in private instruction that is supported through the school with multiple performance opportunities available throughout the year.
The proximity to the city of Antwerp opens up opportunities for our Visual Arts students to study contemporary artists and designers. Visual Arts students showcase their work throughout the year, often in collaboration with other performances.
Students will have the opportunity to take part in several dramatic performances that take place throughout the school year in our stateof-the-art 350-seat auditorium in addition to
in-class performances. Students have recently taken part in performances such as The Tempest, Into the Woods Jr. and Beauty and the Beast Jr. Whether students prefer to shine on or off stage, there is always a place for them here.
At AIS we believe in inquiry-based learning, challenging and supporting learners to construct their understanding. Starting with even our youngest learners, we foster natural curiosity and encourage the pursuit of knowledge both individually and as a group. In the PYP, Monday morning is designated as “Maker Monday” where students are guided through project-based collaborative learning.
The STEMzone provides the ideal environment to encourage creativity, innovation, analytical thinking and collaboration through STEM studies. This building features science labs, fabrication labs, makerspaces, mathematics areas, IT spaces and common collaborative learning spaces where our students get to engage in hands-on learning.
AIS students in the DP programme receive ongoing guidance from our on-campus university counsellor to plan for their post-secondary destination. We primarily focus on finding the best fit for our students as they navigate the application process and transition to university. AIS students attend well-known and reputable universities from around the globe. In recent years students have attended the University of Oxford, King’s College London, University of Sydney, New York University and many other respected institutions.
Every day is Open Day at AIS. Schedule a visit today to see why AIS is the right choice for your family.
If you want to know more, phone +32 3 543 93 00 or email: admissions@ais-antwerp.be
Visit our website: www.ais-antwerp.be
For several years, our DP pass rate has been exceptional, ranging between 94-100%. Students are pushed to excellence and encouraged to reach their full potential.
As Brussels gears up to toast 100 years of Art Deco, expect a feast of geometric glamour, Roaring Twenties nostalgia and cultural whimsy. From sunbursts and silk to stained glass, the 2025 Art Deco Year promises to dazzle — and maybe spark spirited debates about style over substance. Fun, frivolous and unapologetically decorative, Frédéric Moreau embraces the era that turned design into a daily delight
Frédéric Moreau
The house is perhaps the last word in Belgian Art Deco luxury, clad with polished Italian granite anchored by bronze staples.
Art Deco is set to dominate Brussels's cultural agenda in 2025. This year marks the centenary of the first Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels, held in Paris from April to October 1925, which brought together designs from 20 participating countries. Most built a show pavilion by a star architect (Belgium chose Victor Horta), but all sent the latest creations of selected artists, and historical references were prohibited to encourage innovation.
Art Deco as a term was only coined in the 1960s but is a welcome contraction of that mouthful of an event. Its centenary marks the international cross-pollination of the ideas that brought about this elusive interwar style, often interpreted as a transition between Art Nouveau and modernism.
An umbrella term applied to a wide swathe of the visual arts from around the interwar period, Art Deco’s global avatars are skyscrapers, such as the Empire State and Chrysler buildings in New York City. In Belgium, their exact contemporary in Antwerp, the Boerentoren was once the second tallest building in Europe.
In the wake of last year’s Art Nouveau Year, the Brussels Region has declared 2025 Art Deco Year and dozens of exhibitions and events will explore the theme in depth. Beyond the coffee-table draw of the major architectural heritage, Art Deco was arguably the first art movement to penetrate daily life at virtually every level of society from luxury creations to the packaging of humble consumer goods.
Underlining this view is the Boghossian Foundation’s exhibition, Echoes of Art Deco (an excellent title for a term that is evocative rather than self-explanatory). The foundation’s home, the spectacular Villa Empain, was built in 1930 by Michel Polak for Baron Louis Empain, son of self-made railway tycoon Edouard Empain who built the Paris Metro and created a new town, Heliopolis, on the desert fringes of Cairo, connected to the city by his tram network.
The house is perhaps the last word in Belgian Art Deco luxury, clad with polished Italian granite anchored by bronze staples. A fabulous wrought-iron door beneath a deep, flat brass canopy leads into a vast, square, marble-lined and galleried hall with a view through to the garden and a vast outdoor swimming pool, its perimeter traced by a shaded pergola promenade.
The exhibition, on until May 25, takes an immersive rather than documentary approach to its theme, demonstrating the artistic breadth and societal depth of Art Deco. A “journey into the past” is provided through four dimly lit rooms decorated in reproduction wallpaper and dotted with exhibit cases and furniture, blurring the lines between museum and cosseted domestic interior from Les Années Folles (the Roaring Twenties).
Luxury Art Deco is represented by short, slender silk dresses and curved furniture in precious woods, printed or inlaid with abstract geometric and stylised floral designs. The contrast with the bulky dresses and hulking historicist furniture of the previous generation represents the revolution in the public and private image and aspirations of the prosperous classes, particularly women.
The star attraction is perhaps the collection of stained glass, demonstrating the timeline of the art over a quarter century through 25 fragments. These show how the figurative themes of fanlights of the late 19th century – such as saints, flowers and animals – had given way, initially to simple, symmetrical, geometric patterns under the influence of the Amsterdam School. With the advent of opalescent coloured glass, designers could track trends in painting: cubism, constructivism, and futurism in the early 1920s, the primary-colour rectangles of De Stijl in the early 1930s and then the curved knots distinctive of late Art Deco from mid-decade.
The exhibition also features a 1923 abstract wallpaper design by Victor Servranckx, which further explores the pan-media nature of this movement in art. In 1925, when he briefly turned to architecture, the artist reproduced
identical curved lines across the facade of a building in Anderlecht. These flats, stacked above shops and a café in a modest quarter of the city, reflect the other side of the exhibition: Art Deco as a pan-societal phenomenon.
Bringing high-quality, modern design within the reach of the many had long been an aspiration for certain artists, in reaction to the poor quality and reactionary taste of early manufactured reproductions. Earlier attempts, through the arts and crafts movement in Britain and Art Nouveau in Belgium, had failed to penetrate much beyond a moneyed few due to the cost of materials and labour.
Over four years, the urgency of war output had improved cost and quality controls, and peacetime supply chains could turn to labour-saving devices and leisure products. The Echoes of Art Deco exhibition illustrates this through a series of posters by graphic designer Hubert Dupont (who signed his output Hub Dup), advertising goods from household appliances to beer using the same design language as the luxury goods elsewhere in the exhibition.
A bank of early radios decked in veneer ape the form and finish of the expensive sideboards. A scratchy soundtrack of period hits completes the immersive effect of the exhibition, and some of the darker numbers, such as Putting on the Ritz and Minnie the Moocher give a glimpse of the psychological cravings behind the glamour of Art Deco. World War (with a cruel occupation in the case of Belgium) followed by the Spanish Flu pandemic had produced a generation at least as traumatised as it was aspirational and in need of distraction.
Upcoming exhibitions will further explore the wider theme of Art Deco, with themes such as cinema, fashion, and sculpture on the programme (see box), but inevitably, architecture is the star. Hoping for a repeat of Art Nouveau Year, which attracted almost two million visitors, the region’s tourism places BANAD (the annual Brussels Art Nouveau and Art Deco fes-
tival) among the flagship events in 2025’s cultural calendar.
Running across three weekends in March, this year’s theme will revolve almost entirely around Art Deco buildings, with lectures, neighbourhood walks and visits to usually inaccessible interiors provided by a large network of museums and associations. At the launch of 2025’s themed year, State Secretary for Urbanism and Heritage Ans Persoons promised “a celebration of Brussels’ unique Art Deco heritage,” headlined by the buildings of star architects Victor Horta, Jean-Baptiste Dewin, Adrien Blomme and, not least, the creator of the Villa Empain, Michel Polak.
The decorative tropes of Art Deco architecture are easily recognised. They include geometric motifs inherited from one tradition of Art Nouveau which, amplified across the entire facade of a modest terraced townhouse, create the fun effect that can stop passers-by in their tracks.
Larger buildings (detached mansions, offices, churches, factories) can carry detailing such as exaggerated fluted pilasters and capitals quoting classical architecture, along with winged figures in helmets. Machinery parts such as cogs or fins imitating radiators and heat sinks can underline the modernity of a commercial block or hint at the industrial interests of a mansion’s owner.
A more monumental strand of Art Deco features large expanses of marble, stone or its approximation in concrete, oversized frames for doors or windows which can be horizontal and emphasized by successive layers of moulding. These can reserve decoration for rich ironwork doors with geometric motifs repeated across window guards and gates and railings if a garden is present.
A regionalist variation can feature outsized gables and cornices, combining plaster and brick on the facade to create the effect of monstrous cottages. The 1930s saw a turn towards naval architecture with portholes, flagpoles and terraces with tubular guard
Bringing highquality, modern design within the reach of the many had long been an aspiration for certain artists, in reaction to the poor quality and reactionary taste of early manufactured reproductions. Earlier attempts, through the arts and crafts movement in Britain and Art Nouveau in Belgium, had failed to penetrate much beyond a moneyed few due to the cost of materials and labour.
The 1930s saw a turn towards naval architecture with portholes, flagpoles and terraces with tubular guard rails evoking the paquebot (ocean liner), the ultimate expression of modern moneyed leisure in search of exoticism.
rails evoking the paquebot (ocean liner), the ultimate expression of modern moneyed leisure in search of exoticism.
But what is Brussels or Belgian Art Deco? The art historians Maurice Culot (founder of the Archives of Modern Architecture, AAM) and Anne-Marie Pirlot locate its “birth certificate” amid the Austrian strand of Art Nouveau known as the Viennese Secession. In particular, the enormous mansion built in 1905-11 for another Belgian engineer-industrialist, Adolphe Stoclet, by Austrian architect Josef Hoffmann whom he had met while building railways in Vienna.
Its restrained exterior clad in vast expanses of white marble, the inside of the Stoclet Palace was entirely fitted out by the Wiener Werkstätte artists collective co-founded by Hoffmann in 1903. Madame Stoclet obediently auctioned off her collection of (no longer) modern art in anticipation of the shimmering mosaic friezes to be created by Gustav Klimt (at least, they appear to shimmer in photographs; barely anyone has been permitted entry to the Unesco World Heritage sphinx, and the Brussels Region has gone to court to contest this).
This Stoclet style reached a wider, if still extremely wealthy, public thanks to L’Intérieur (The Interior), a shop and gallery opened by architect Léon Sneyers in 1907 which stocked
the Vienna collective’s products. Sneyers was a former student of Paul Hankar, a pioneer of Belgian geometric Art Nouveau who began work on a house inspired by Japanese art at the same time as, a couple of blocks away, Victor Horta was creating the Hôtel Tassel, the first building in the organic, floral branch of Art Nouveau. Sneyers encountered the output of the Secession at the First International Exposition of Modern Decorative Arts of 1902 in Turin. A 1904 shop front by him at number 7 Rue de La Madeleine features curves and stylised stained-glass flowers, motifs that would seed the basic elements of the more decorative tendency in Belgian Art Deco.
The Brussels Region’s heritage inventory briefly defines Art Deco as an “interwar” style favouring the “geometrization of forms and ornamentation.” It lists 1,899 examples in its database of sites worthy of attention (compared to 1,196 for Art Nouveau). Modernism meanwhile (with just 899 mentions) is “an international trend calling for the primacy of function over form…characterised by the use of elementary geometric volumes, flat roofs, panoramic windows and modern materials such as reinforced concrete.”
Confusingly, this definition seems to match Blomme’s Wiels centre from 1930 and is illustrated with an image of the Kaaitheater, which the inventory lists as “a modernist and Art Deco ensemble in the Paquebot style”. In a wordier entry, the inventory for the Flemish region defines modernism as “a
striving for renewal” and a “business-like” appearance with “most buildings” falling short of this ideal of “purity”.
The plastic possibilities of modern construction techniques (metal frames and reinforced concrete) and the end of the classical/renaissance stranglehold on official architecture and its teaching left architects able to reproduce and blend exotic styles from all periods. A sort of dressing-up box of history. Leaving modernists to question whether they should.
In this light, it is perhaps best to regard Art Deco as sitting on a spectrum of modernism that depends on its perceived seriousness in the eyes of the individual critic (depending on mood). In short, it can be both things at once, a curate’s egg of a style. The Flagey Building, for example, has long stretches of modernism, with bands of windows set in a flat, restrained facade beneath a flat roof but spoils the hairshirt ideal with the helter-skelter corner tower that makes it so memorable. The inventory describes the Villa Empain meanwhile, that avatar of Brussels Art Deco, as a “modernist update of the classical ideal in architecture.”
Sneyers’s profile in the AAM architecture archive (now part of the CIVA architecture and urbanism museum in Ixelles) compares him to Joseph Urban, another architect (Austrian this time) with a side hustle in selling Secession products. His New York City shop called the Wiener Werkstätte was a commercial failure but a heavy influence on the American strand of Art Deco that weighs so heavily on global perceptions of the movement. Urban would go on to create stage and film sets and co-designed US Art Deco landmarks such as the Ziegfield Theater in Manhattan (demolished) and the Florida resort of Mar-a-Lago (still in daily use).
As for the more monumental tradition in Belgian Art Deco, this can perhaps be traced back to the designers of the 1913 Théâtre des ChampsElysées in Paris, one Belgian and the other at least Belgian-born. Built to house avant-garde concerts and ballet productions, its facade was
initially developed by Antwerp native Henry Van de Velde, who handed over to Ixelles native Auguste Perret (a plaque in Rue Keyenveld recalls his birth in the street, a few doors down from that of the more box office Audrey Hepburn). The sober and massive travertine facade, mounted on a concrete frame, somewhat prefigures the horizontal monumentality of the Villa Empain.
Given its timeline of roughly 1919-1939, the footprint of Art Deco in Brussels reflects the needs and opportunities in the region during the interwar years. The main factors in and around the already entirely built-up historic centre of the city were the spaces freed up by major updates of the communications networks and the pressure to modernise the entertainment, hospitality and commercial infrastructure to cater for both visitors and the fortunate section of the region’s population with rising incomes and leisure hours that could be spent in the centre. Meanwhile, universal (male) suffrage had arrived in 1919, meaning the educational and healthcare needs of the dwindling and increasingly impoverished inhabitants of the centre required attention.
In the northwest corner of the so-called Brussels Pentagon, docks rendered obsolete by the moving of the canal and the construction of new warehouses served by rail (now Tour & Taxis) were filled in. Two wide new boulevards were laid out at diagonals within a vast rectangle. The deep plots prompted the construction of warehouses and apartments on a new scale for Brussels, with lifts allowing buildings of a height then associated with US cities. Art Deco detailing abounds in this area but the style had to duke it out with an instinctive preference for more traditional designs with which it would often share facades, as it would across the region.
At 66 Boulevard d'Ypres, the entrance porch to a 1927 apartment block combines Art Deco, beaux arts and Art Nouveau elements in a sumptuous ensemble. To the northeast, the enormous Yser Salient residential block is wrapped in Art Deco mar-
The Brussels Region’s heritage inventory briefly defines Art Deco as an “interwar” style favouring the “geometrization of forms and ornamentation.” It lists 1,899 examples in its database of sites worthy of attention (compared to 1,196 for Art Nouveau).
On a fiendishly difficult site, the Bozar, from 1922-29, fulfilled the need for a new cultural hub in postwar Brussels. Built down rather than up, it had to duck below the parapet of the Rue Royale to preserve sightlines downtown from the Royal Palace, and the vast concert hall shares the street level of the medieval quarter demolished for the new road.
ble at street level and the style claims the ironwork on the windows of the beaux-arts facade above. Opposite, across Square Sainctelette is the Kaaitheater, a complex combining a café and theatre with flats above. Their curved balconies with tubular guard rails in the Art Deco Paquebot style contrast with the sober horizontal modernist windows that flank them, thus placing it among many others as being in both styles in the official inventory.
Next door is the former headquarters, workshop and showroom of Citroën Belgium from 1933. Occupying almost the entirety of this enormous city block, it was built over a cavernous and long defunct deepwater dock. Dealing with this has helped delay its conversion into the forthcoming Kanal Museum (and future home to CIVA). The 25-metre-high showroom section is of a functionalist purity to qualify this as a modernist structure. It was designed by Alexis Dumont and Marcel Van Goethem.
On the eastern slopes of the Pentagon is another tight knot of major Art Deco-influenced buildings, filling gaps left at the beginning of the 20th century by demolitions for the north-south railway junction and the construction of Rue Ravenstein, a new access road curving its way to the upper town. Here Dumont and Van Goethem built the Shell building as new modern offices for the oil company in a restrained Art Deco with stylised blue stone uprights between austere bands of white stone cladding. It doesn’t quite make the purity test for modernism and the inventory is silent on its architectural style.
On each side of the former Shell HQ are major late-period buildings by Victor Horta, both included within the universe of Art Deco Year 2025. On a fiendishly difficult site, the Bozar, from 1922-29, fulfilled the need for a new cultural hub in postwar Brussels. Built down rather than up, it had to duck below the parapet of the Rue Royale to preserve sightlines downtown from the Royal Palace, and the vast concert hall shares the street level of the medieval quarter demolished for the new road. The Brussels region’s inventory describes this as a classically inspired building which “announces Art Deco”, and this is particularly evident from
its geometric roofline and opulent yet austere interior, lit by opalescent stained glass.
Across Cantersteen is Horta’s Central Station, a 1936 design completed posthumously. It bears “reminiscences of classicism and Art Deco,” the inventory states. While its undulating entrance facade is a clear reference to the architect’s (now demolished) Maison du Peuple, the tall windows lighting the booking hall with their grid of square glazing bars are perhaps a reminiscence of the entrance tower of the Stoclet Palace.
In the heart of downtown, Michel Polak built no fewer than three Art Deco hotels along the axis leading along Boulevard Adolphe Max to Place Charles Rogier. The Atlanta from 1925 with curiously exotic missionary baroque touches (Polak was born in Mexico) and the Plaza from 1928 are in the boulevard while the Albert I in the square is from 1927.
Within the outwardly-restrained Plaza complex is the former cinema of the same name, its interior another example of exotic Art Deco, is in a “Hispano-Churrigueresque” style. Behind the Métropole Hotel is the enormous former Métropole cinema from 1931 by Adrien Blomme, working once again for the Wielemans-Cueppens brewing family. The 3,000-seat auditorium behind its monumental travertine facade has long vanished and is now the Rue Neuve branch of Zara.
Just around the corner in Rue du Fossé Aux Loups a casino occupies the former Cameo Cinema from 1925, with an extrovert facade pushing it into the ‘fun’ category of Art Deco. A few steps away again is a 1931 Art Deco auditorium (Marcel Chabot) of the former Eldorado cinema, now concealed behind the glass façade of the UGC De Brouckère. Suspended in a concrete frame, a gilded profusion of Art Deco bas reliefs sat above the velvet banks of seating. Congo-inspired exotic plants and animals (and humans) for the walls, an immense sunbeam for the ceiling at the end of the audience sight line, as if bursting from the screen with promise of the spectacle to come. These cinemas, largely targeting a suburban public visiting town for shopping and entertainment, feature in the Art Deco Cinemas of Brussels exhibition running at the Halles Saint-Géry until May 11, 2025.
In the oldest parts of downtown Brussels surrounding the Grand Place meanwhile, there was a growing awareness of the attractiveness to tourists of narrow, winding streets lined with quaint-looking houses. To the disappointment of certain modernists who wished to see much of this razed, architects elsewhere engaged in the production of Art Deco, rebuilt ancient facades in pastiche or inserted regionalist-type new buildings aiming at showing sympathy with older neighbours.
The architect De Vleeschouwer, who rebuilt two 17th century houses in Rue Au Beurre, would go on to design the sumptuous Art Deco curves of the 1928 Villa Descamps in Avenue Hamoir in Uccle. On the corner of Rue des Chapeliers and Rue de la Violette, the architect Van Eng inserted a discreet curved Art Deco block above a mar-
ble-clad shop, the curvy decorations of its stained glass announcing the 1930s variant of the style. Further up the medieval Rue de la Violette in 1937, Adrien Blomme and son Yvan, the designers of the South Station, built the Ecu de France restaurant and jazz club with a brick and plaster regionalist facade. Opposite the Bourse meanwhile, a 1930s update of the Falstaff, an art nouveau German weinstube turned English pub. left much of the spectacular wood and stained glass in place, adding a practical and more glamourous flat Art Deco canopy to shelter drinkers on the terrace.
In the tightly built-up inner suburbs of the 19th century, the traces of Art Deco are sparse. Here, the style found a meagre foothold by replacing a few facades by prosperous, aspirational owners. Those of lesser means contented themselves with a moderne roof extension, a geometrical wroughtiron door or stained-glass fanlight, cheerfully clashing with the existing architecture (my own 1901 home has a streamlined door handle facing the street, incised with a stylised fan motif).
An exception was the aristocratic Leopold (now European) Quarter, where the upper classes were abandoning draughty palaces rendered obsolete by a lack of servants. Providing a “solution to the housing crisis” as Le Soir put it, developer Lucien Kaisin demolished a dozen mansions on Rue de la Loi and brought Polak to Belgium to design Résidence Palace, a 180-apartment mammoth “in the style of the Italian Renaissance with the decoration of our times”. With fully serviced flats of up to 22 rooms aimed at these very rich refugees, the complex boasted a fabulous Art Deco swimming pool in the basement (which survives and is included in the Banad programme) and a rooftop terrace for tea dances beneath a pergola.
In the nearby Leopold Park is another major Polak Art Deco building, this time with a more democratic pedigree. The former dental clinic for children from low-income families was funded by a $1m donation by Kodak founder George Eastman. A reinforced concrete frame clad in
white stone, its form, but not decoration, was required to evoke the original dispensary in Rochester, New York. The interior, home since 2017 to the House of European History, was furnished in Congo wood by De Coene Brothers of Kortrijk. A large translucent roof extension added as part of the conversion somewhat blurs the horizontality of the façade, where Art Deco meets modernism.
Garden grabs are nothing new. A little further out, the grounds of larger estates presented opportunities for developers targeting new arrivals and those disenchanted with dowdy, last-century homes. In Schaerbeek, Kaisin aimed the 1929 Pavillons Francais, a gleaming white 15-storey skyscraper heavily influenced by American design, at aspirational middle-class buyers (freshly restored, BANAD is organising visits to the building for the first time in 2025).
The same year, the secluded Square Coghen was laid out in a loop across a sloping patrician estate in Uccle. An open-air laboratory for interwar architecture completed in under a decade, the region’s inventory classes 33 of its houses as modernist, seven as Art Deco and four as regionalist.
On a large vacant corner site on Avenue Brugmann, formerly aristocratic rural land, Empain group transport engineer Robert Haerens commissioned Antoine Courtens to build a large mansion in the Art Deco style. The former pupil of Horta placed a tower resembling the summit of a skyscraper at the right angle between two wings with facades in blocky geometric stone. Inside and out, Courtens’ extensive ironwork features incised circles crammed into geometric frames, evoking machine cogs. Also from 1928, at the Rond-Point de l'Étoile Ixelles, on the fringe of fully built-up Brussels, is Courtens’ Palais de la Folle Chanson, an apartment building which pursues the same form but with added altitude.
Meanwhile, Art Deco row houses appeared in streets laid out before World War One but incomplete or left entirely fallow pending a recovery of the construction industry and demand. Avenue
Art Deco has already reached its fullycommodified endpoint. A circular tower, tripartite this time, is embraced between tight fins rising to the full height of the building.
Art Deco styles long centred on their superficiality, putting decoration, the plaything of the past, ahead of functionality.
Coghen abounds in examples. At numbers 59 and 61 and opposite at number 68 with its naval-looking roof terrace are examples of what could be termed the fun end of Art Deco, all by Louis Tenaerts and dating from the mid-1930s. Cramming strong vertical and horizontal lines, portholes, cylindrical outcrops and (where it survives) stained glass typical of the Paquebot period (as seen at the Boghossian show) in a confined space, they pull off a pictorial effect.
Around the corner at Avenue de la Seconde Reine 5, is Tenaerts’ masterpiece or greatest indulgence, depending on the extent of one’s allegiance to the modernist ideal of simplicity. A greatest hits of the principal tropes of Art Deco, each amplified to the maximum degree, the Maison Marit from 1933 perhaps left the style with nowhere else to go.
Opposite the Palais de la Folle Chanson, at the entrance to Avenue du Congo are two equally tall apartment buildings by architect Jean-Florian Collin, tracking Art Deco’s journey from experimental and somewhat risky art movement to safe choice for the speculative investor. The 1930 Palais du Congo at number 2-4 is a rather bland echo of Courtens’ pioneering flats at the site. At number 3, the 1936 Résidence Ernestine, for Collin’s own Etrimo development company founded in the meantime, Art Deco has already reached its fully-commodified endpoint. A circular tower, tripartite this time, is embraced between tight fins rising to the full height of the building.
It followed the 1935 Brussels International Exposition, whose public face at Heysel was the Palais des Expositions, its Art Deco façade an enormous, truncated triangle mixing strong horizontal and vertical lines with the soaring glazing of Central Station (and the Palais Stoclet before it, where the story perhaps began).
Like the Art Nouveau before it, a world war largely ended Art Deco, its frivolous leanings finally eclipsed by the decidedly not-fun strand of modernism.
In their essay on the style in the book Modernism Art Déco (published by the Brussels region in 2004), Culot and Pirlot date Art Deco’s reappraisal to an exhibition held at the Museum of Ixelles in 1968 amid growing dissatisfaction at the functionalist vision taking hold of the city, a vision now synonymous with Brusselization, the destruction of swathes of the cityscape and extraction of the picturesque, the fun.
The two art historians credit that event in Ixelles (billed as Antoine Pompe et l’Effort Moderne) to Art Deco’s revival from the 1980s onwards, via a new generation of postmodernist architects for whom imitation of the interwar style presented less scholarly effort and fewer demands on contractors than reproducing Art Nouveau or classicism. Their star examples are the 1989 SAS Hotel (now Radisson Grand Place) and Espace Midi, vast and unloved office blocks from 1998-2002 imitating golden-age US skyscraper vocabulary in Avenue Fonsny opposite the South Station (both Atelier d’Art Urbain architects). The merits of Art Deco and the desirability of a revival is a debate still underway.
Criticism of Art Deco styles long centred on their superficiality, putting decoration, the plaything of the past, ahead of functionality. A defective form of modernism, weighed down by the long hangover of the 19th century. This round of events in 2025 will perhaps try to put to bed the long hangover of the 20th century, of measuring architectural merit on a scale of form following function, not the least because function is no more a fixed value than form.
Art Deco, modernist or both, these buildings are nearing their eleventh decade in existence and need renovation and imagination if they are to remain with us over the coming decades. Art Deco Year in Brussels is seeking new generations of fans to make this possible, anchoring the city’s heritage within the region’s renewal plans. And having some innocent, superficial fun while doing it.
While the same forces of urban renewal and growth seen in interwar Brussels were at work in Belgium’s other two regions, additional factors such as war damage and the development of large public and private institutions and new infrastructure in parallel with those of the capital also applied, Frédéric Moreau writes
Antwerp’s principal Art Deco is the Boerentoren (Farmers’ Tower) skyscraper, built in 1928-31 on a war-damaged site and designed to close the perspective along the city’s principal shopping street, the Meir. Stylised sculptural reliefs on an agricultural theme at the base of the complex contrast with the sleek, Manhattan-like thrust of the 83.5 metre main tower. Work began in 1931
More obviously Art Deco, around the corner at SintPietersnieuwstraat is the facade of the former Dagblad Vooruit newspaper, from 1930 and by Brussels-based architect Fernand Brunfaut. The zig-zag of convex glass folds across its facade and the black and orange ceramic of its base now decorate a business centre. The former Dagblad Vooruit newspaper
on road and pedestrian tunnels to connect the city to developments planned for the left bank of the Scheldt River. The brick, stone and glass entrances and ventilation building serving the Saint-Anna foot tunnel are in a striking period style the Flemish region’s inventory defines as New Objectivity (architect Van Averbeke).
In Ghent, the conversion of the university into a Dutch-speaking institution in competition with rivals in Brussels and Leuven was followed by a major building campaign. Work on a socalled Book Tower, the library that dominates the quarter, started in 1936 and its simple verticality was offset by the intensely horizontal Art History faculty at its base. Both buildings (by Henry Van de Velde) are classed as modernist but the glassed-in belvedere at the summit of the tower with its copper roof retained a trace of the glamour of its time. More obviously Art Deco, around the corner at Sint-Pietersnieuwstraat is the facade of the former Dagblad Vooruit newspaper, from 1930 and by Brussels-based architect Fernand Brunfaut. The zig-zag of convex glass folds across its facade and the black and orange ceramic of its base now decorate a business centre.
In Ostend, the Hôtel and Brasserie du Parc, a 1928 conversion of an older building retains its period glamour (3 Marie-Joséplein). The groundfloor corner café, aimed squarely at a middle-class clientele, retains its luxurious fittings. It is best viewed on a sunny day when the lower part of the exterior can be retracted, leaving a band of stylised stained glass floating between the panelled interior and pavement terrace. The Art Deco theme continues downstairs in the toilets.
Equally aspirational but aimed at the lowest rungs of the bourgeoisie and the working class, was the low-cost Alfa Hotel built in 1933 on the outskirts of the city at Mariakerke. Leaning heavily to the new Paquebot style (a facade studded with portholes, the harbour-master vibes of the curved turret by the seafront), it brought transatlantic style on a budget. In the café of this hotel, despite a stylised seafood frieze above the bar, the modernist aesthetic was more engine-room than Captain’s table. It was sadly demolished in 1996.
Leuven, badly damaged during the German army’s initial advance in 1914, chose a largely traditional vernacular style of narrow, brick-fronted houses for much of its rebuilding. Perhaps unsurprising in a city whose fate had gripped the US as it hesitated over intervention in the war and where American money would recreate the burned library in a transatlantic vision of Historic Low Countries architecture.
Lier, another ‘martyred’ city in the Antwerp region, also decided to process the trauma by turning to the past rather than embracing modernity, rebuilding destroyed neoclassical houses on its main square in the historic Flemish style. Both cities also developed a hybrid ‘reconstruction style’ incorporating 1920s references within historicist regionalist facades. Examples can be found in
Bondgenotenlaan (number 83) in Leuven and at Grote Markt (number 67) in Lier.
In Charleroi, the city hall (Place Charles II), inaugurated in 1936, combines a neo-classicist exterior with one of the most sumptuous Art Deco interiors in Belgium, notably the flowing, marble-lined main staircase flanked with large bronze statues in the style. The soaring belfry in brick and stone marries the international vocabulary of 1930s moderne with the traditional avatar of Low Countries civic independence (architect the splendidly-named Jules Cézar).
The interwar modernisation of Charleroi can also be witnessed at the nearby admin building and library of the industrial university by Alexis Dumont (from 1931 in a suitably serious-minded Art Deco). The original 1906 building of the Université de Travail by Dumont and his father Albert pointed strongly towards the decorative and monumental direction Belgian architecture would take after World War One. Located at 1, Boulevard Gustave Roullier in a quarter that abounds in Art Deco buildings.
In Namur, former monastery land at the fringe of the ancient core of the city was redeveloped as four streets and two covered passages starting in 1927. The resulting Carmes Quarter is Wallonia’s most uniquely cohesive Art Deco cityscape reflecting the needs and preoccupations of the interwar city (apartment buildings, townhouses, a cinema and automobile garage). Best entered via Passage Warenne opposite the rail station, a marble-lined shopping arcade from 1930 lit from above by yellow and white Art Deco glass skylights.
At 45-51 Rue des Carmes is the 1933 Caméo cinema, combining classic Art Deco motifs with emerging paquebot trends and elements of functionalist modernism with its flat roof. The Caméo’s architect explored the paquebot style further on the curved bow window occupying the entire width of the facade of the 1934 townhouse at 16 Rue Saint Joseph.
The
resulting Carmes Quarter is Wallonia’s most uniquely cohesive Art Deco cityscape reflecting the needs and preoccupations of the interwar city.
Regional agencies urban.brussels and Visit Brussels are co-coordinating the promotion of the year-long festival while events and visits are organised by the region's network of museums and heritage associations. Here is our selection of Art Deco events in 2025
Echoes of Art Deco.
Until May 25. Exhibits including furniture, ceramics, clothing and stained glass track the stylistic evolution of Art Deco over the period 19151928. The event is housed in the spectacular Villa Empain from 1930. Boghossian Foundation, Avenue Franklin Roosevelt 67, 1050 Brussels.
Art Deco Cinemas in Brussels.
January 27–May 11. An immersive exhibition on “the architecture of dreams” aiming to evoke the sensations of interwar filmgoers at large Art Deco cinemas built in central Brussels during the period, such as the Plaza, Métropole, and Eldorado. Halles Saint-Géry, 1, Place SaintGéry, 1000 Brussels.
Art Deco Book Binding.
February 1–May 1. An exhibition of Art Deco book bindings from the Michel Wittock Collec-
tion explores the refined craftsmanship amid the emergence of post-war industrial production. Wittockiana, 23 rue du Bemel 1150 Brussels.
(Brussels Art Nouveau & Art Deco Festival). Over three weekends in March. The 2025 edition of Brussels’ annual celebration of modern heritage will focus on Art Deco. More than 60 often-inaccessible private and institutional interiors will be open for visits and each of the three weekends will focus on a different zone in the region. Highlights include the newly-restored town hall of Forest (Jean-Baptiste Dewin, 1935-39) and the Residence Palace (Michel Polak 1922-27, EU Quarter). The monumental Averbouch House (1929, Joseph Diongre, Forest) and the Amsterdam School-influenced Van Eycken House (1933, Jos Bal, Schaerbeek) are open for the first time. The festival includes thematic walking and cycling tours, lectures, and family-orientated activities. Interior visits require reservation.
The Art Deco Table Menu.
March 24–June 29. This exhibition explores the intersection of gastronomy, culture, and
aesthetics as viewed through a collection of rare vintage menus. Halles Saint-Géry, 1, Place Saint-Géry, 1000 Brussels.
Les Années Folles 1925-2025.
March 28–April 28. Religious Art and Architecture. Unmissable on the Brussels skyline, the city’s largest art-deco monument, the Koekelberg Basilica was designed by Albert Van Huffel in 1921 and completed in 1970. The exhibition, in the church’s museum, explores the architect’s choice of materials and entry is included with a visit to the panoramic rooftop view. National Basilica of the Sacred Heart, 1 Parvis de la Basilique, 1083 Koekelberg.
Art Deco–The Val Saint Lambert Golden Years.
April 1–September 1. Works by Philippe Wolfers, Joseph Simon and others, celebrating the Art Deco creations of Belgian glassmaker Val Saint Lambert, housed behind the 1904 proto Art Deco art nouveau shop front designed by Léon Sneyers. Madeleine 7 Foundation, 7 Rue de la Madeleine, 1000 Brussels.
Around Art Deco. Interbellum sculptures.
April 24–September 28. The exhibition will explore the evolution of sculptural production over the interwar period against the backdrop of a major landmark in Brussels suburban Art Deco, the house and gardens created for a Dutch couple, the Van Buurens (1928, Léon Govaerts and Alexandre Van Vaerenbergh; garden Jules Buyssens). The beautifully-preserved, opulent but intimate interior of the house reflects the tastes of the cultured upper middle-classes of the period, combining comfort with modern design. Van Buuren Museum and Gardens, Avenue Léo Errera, 41, 1180 Uccle.
Art Deco at Home.
May 12-16. For a week, the Brussels Art Deco Society, alongside the Boghossian Foundation, Van Buuren Museum, Autrique House, and the Horta Museum, will coordinate lectures and festive events every evening.
Camouflage.
May 14–August 15. Decorative artefacts from 1910-1940, including carpets, wallpapers and textiles by designers such as Magritte, Victor Servranckx and Eileen Gray. The show also studies the role of female artists in the invention of camouflage during World War One. Horta Museum, 27 rue Américaine, 1060 Saint-Gilles.
Art Deco 2025: Posters and Magazines.
From May (date TBC). An exploration of societal change during the interwar period via
Above: Art Deco bookends. Below: stained glass. Middle: the Eldorado cinema. Bottom: 1936 poster
posters and magazine covers. Maison Autrique, 266 Chaussée de Haecht, 1030 Schaerbeek.
Fashion and Art Deco.
May 26–August 26. Contemporary Resonances. Modern creations by Brussels-based designers alongside historical garments from the Museum of Fashion & Lace. Halles SaintGéry, 1, Place Saint-Géry, 1000 Brussels.
Art Deco. The Style of a Society in the Throes of Change.
June 4–January 4, 2026. An exhibition of artefacts from the King Baudouin Foundation. Everyday objects from the art-deco era that aspire to achieve the status of works of art. Luxurious one-off creations and mass production for the middle classes from designers including Marcel Wolfers and Oscar Jespers. BELvue Museum, Place des Palais, 7, 1000 Brussels.
Art Deco Notes.
July 10–October 10. Music and the graphic arts examined through a selection of vintage music scores from the interwar period. Halles Saint-Géry, 1, Place Saint-Géry, 1000 Brussels.
Art Deco, Roaring Twenties, Crash Years.
September 11–January 11. 2026. Coinciding with the Brussels Region’s Heritage Days festival (free visits to monuments), the exhibition will explore the Art Deco movement in Brussels in depth. Halles Saint-Géry, 1, Place Saint-Géry, 1000 Brussels.
Art Deco-themed walks, cycle tours, lectures and guided tours are taking place throughout the year. Many are listed on the region’s dedicated website artdeco2025.brussels.
Once a grand vision of King Leopold II, the Koekelberg Basilica stands as both an Art Deco colossus and a polarising Brussels landmark. With its sprawling size, empty halls and a construction history spanning 65 years, this power station on a hill has hosted everything from mass to venomous snakes. Derek Blyth wonders whether it is an overlooked marvel or an oversized monstrosity
Derek Blyth
Progress on the massive project was still painfully slow and Van Huffel, who died in 1935, never saw his great work completed. The building was still unfinished in late 1935 when the first Mass was held.
It’s one of the largest churches in the world. And, some might say, one of the ugliest. The Koekelberg Basilica sits on a hill overlooking Brussels like a massive brick power station. It dominates the view as you drive into Brussels from Ghent, a menacing symbol of Belgium’s unloved capital. Not many tourists visit the church. And it’s not the easiest place to reach. So is it even worth the effort, you might ask?
The basilica is one of Belgium’s grand follies. Like the Palace of Justice on another Brussels hill, it began its existence as one of King Leopold II’s grand architectural projects in the capital. His father, Leopold I, had already set his sights on the deserted hill to the north of Brussels, where he planned to build a royal palace on the summit. But his son, flush with the vast wealth he extracted from the Congo, had a more ambitious plan.
Leopold wanted to construct a pantheon dedicated to Great Belgians, modelled on the Panthéon in Paris where famous French figures like Voltaire, Victor Hugo and Jean Monnet are buried. The Belgian Pantheon was scheduled to be unveiled in 1905 to mark 75 years since Belgian independence. But the plan ran up against opposition.
Belgians were unenthusiastic and Leopold’s scheme was ditched before a single stone had been laid. All that now remains of his plan for a national monument are the two sweeping avenues around the Basilica named Avenue des Gloires Nationales and Avenue du Panthéon.
The ambitious Leopold didn’t give up easily. In 1902, he came up with a new plan after visiting the construction site on Montmartre in Paris where the Sacré-Coeur Basilica was being built. The builder king decided
that Brussels could do something similar on Koekelberg, with a grand boulevard modelled on the Champs-Elysées linking the basilica to the city centre.
At the time, Brussels was known throughout Europe for its inventive Art Nouveau architecture. But Leopold was no fan of the progressive style invented by Victor Horta. His architectural legacy to Brussels was rooted in the past. So he summoned the Leuven architect Pierre Langerock to design a gigantic neo-gothic church with six tall spires – the tallest in the country – that would dominate the northern skyline.
Leopold was prepared to fund the project himself with his vast wealth. The elderly king turned up to lay the foundation stone in 1905 during celebrations for 75 years of Belgian independence. But nothing happened on the Koekelberg summit for several years. After Leopold died in 1909, the funds dried up. When the German army crossed into Belgium in 1914, only the foundations had been laid. The dead king’s vanity project seemed abandoned.
Four months into the war, with Leuven already in ruins, Cardinal Mercier was optimistically looking forward to the end of the fighting. “As soon as peace shines on our country,” he wrote, “We will rebuild on our ruins, and we hope to put the crowning touch on this work of reconstruction by building, on the heights of the capital of free and catholic Belgium, the National Basilica.” It took four grim years of fighting to end the conflict. Encouraged by Cardinal Mercier, King Albert relaunched the Basilica proj-
ect in 1919. However, the country was struggling at the time to rebuild its destroyed cities and damaged infrastructure. It didn’t have the resources, or the skilled craftsmen, to construct Leopold’s neo-gothic church.
An architecture competition was organised. The winner was an unknown architect from Ghent called Albert Van Huffel. Up until then, he had only built a handful of private homes. Now he was put in charge of one of the largest construction projects in history.
Van Huffel came up with a plan for a massive modern church partly inspired by Byzantine buildings, crowned with two towers and a dome. He produced hundreds of detailed drawings along with a beautiful scale model of the church that won the architecture prize at the 1925 World Fair in Paris. the exhibition that would inspire the Art Deco movement that swept across Europe in the postwar years. And so, Van Huffel’s Brussels basilica – still unbuilt at the time – helped to shape European architecture between the two wars.
Many Belgians had initially criticised Van Huffel’s plan. However, the prestigious international prize shifted public opinion in favour of the design. Victor Horta also praised it, as did the Dutch modernist Hendrik Berlage, and work on the basilica took off again in 1926.
But progress on the massive project was still painfully slow and Van Huffel, who died in 1935, never saw his great work completed. The building was still unfinished in late 1935 when the first Mass was held. Work had just started on the base of the dome in 1940 when Hitler’s troops entered Belgium, bringing construction to a halt for the second time. The empty site around the unfinished Basilica was planted with vegetables to feed the local population.
The workmen were back soon after the country was liberated in September 1944. Gradually, Belgium’s endlessly unfinished church began to take shape. The nave was completed in 1951, the two towers topped with miniature domes were signed off in 1953, and the south transept was completed in 1958, around the same time as the Atomium, followed four years later by the north transept.
That left the green copper dome, which was rounded off in 1969, some 65 years after the project had begun. The country had seen four kings, two world wars, and countless government coalitions. But finally, work on the world’s largest Art Deco building was over.
By this time, Van Huffel’s monumental style had gone out of fashion. In Paris, Richard Rogers and Renzo Piano were starting work on the Pompidou Centre. In Finland, Alvar Aalto was designing clean modern
church interiors. The basilica on Koekelberg summit was woefully out of step with the mood of the age.
The building is intimidating to visit even before you get inside. A long, straight avenue leads from Simonis metro station through the formal Parc Elisabeth. You then cross a busy road, climb some steps, climb some more steps and arrive at the main entrance. The pillars are decorated with slender carved figures by the Belgian-Danish sculptor Harry Elstrøm illustrating the Four Evangelists. But the front entrance is closed. A notice pinned to the door sends you around to an obscure side door.
And then the interior hits you. It is unbelievably vast. It can easily hold 3,500 Catholic worshippers. But on most days, when there isn’t a Mass, it’s almost empty. I counted seven people on the day I went. It’s a rare experience to walk around such a vast empty space in a city of more than a million people, right in the heart of Europe.
The Art Deco interior might remind you of a 1920s cinema or a Mussolini-era railway station. The frame is built of reinforced concrete, concealed behind shiny terracotta tiles and muted brown brick. There are hints of the Jazz Age style, but the overall effect is rather cold and forbidding.
Churches are normally cluttered spac-
And then the interior hits you. It is unbelievably vast. It can easily hold 3,500 Catholic worshippers. But on most days, when there isn’t a Mass, it’s almost empty.
Before you head up to the roof, you can take a look at a photo exhibition that charts the agonisingly long construction history. You see King Leopold II laying the first stone, the first of 1438 piles being driven into the ground.
es. There are paintings, statues, notices announcing pilgrimages, assorted furniture. But this basilica is almost empty, apart from the endless rows of chairs, the confessionals and a few photographs of the Pope.
Maybe this unexplored building will be rediscovered this year, as the city focuses on its exceptional Art Deco architectural heritage. And this is also the year of the Catholic Jubilee when millions of pilgrims are due to visit Rome and other Catholic churches across the world. Many Catholics will inevitably make their way to the basilica in Koekelberg.
Wandering around the building, you begin to appreciate the bold modernity of Van Huffel’s design. There are strange geometrical staircases, unusual angles, surprising views. It would make a fantastic setting for a rock concert or a dance performance.
You might think Hell will freeze over before that’s permitted by the Catholic Church. But the basilica has already been used in un-
expected ways. The Koekelberg tourist office is based in one of the side chapels, while a church shop occupies the chapel next door.
Some years ago, the building was the setting for an exhibition of poisonous snakes. And there was once a Dutch-language Catholic radio station called Radio Spes (Radio Hope) that broadcast from inside the basilica. Launched in 1987, it used an antenna fixed to the top of the dome until the service shut down in 2017.
The main attraction for visitors is the panoramic view from the base of the dome, 52 metres above street level. It’s reached by several hundred bare concrete steps, or by two lifts installed in 2012. One floor up, you pass the award-winning model of the church displayed in its own chapel. There’s also a small museum dedicated to the Black Sisters order, open for just two hours every Wednesday, and a museum of religious art, open on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Sunday.
Before you head up to the roof, you can take a look at a photo exhibition that charts the agonisingly long construction history. You see King Leopold II laying the first stone, the first of 1438 piles being driven into the ground, King Albert visiting the construction site, and the religious ceremony to mark the completion in 1969.
The first-floor walkway allows you to get up close to some beautiful stained-glass windows. It’s worth pausing to look at these works designed by about 20 different artists between 1937 and 2016. The earliest windows feature angular figures that fit perfectly with the Art Deco architecture. One of the oldest windows commemorates the mothers and widows of the two world wars.
The Antwerp glass-maker Jan Huet created six gorgeous modernist windows filled with vivid faces, bright colours and religious stories. The most recent window is an abstract work created by the South Korean artist Kim En Joong.
You then follow a roped-off red carpet to reach the shiny metal lift. It makes the ascent to the rooftop an almost religious experience. You might then be slightly disappointed to emerge under the dome since the view is mainly suburban northern Brussels.
The information panels around the circumference optimistically point to distant sights such as the Hôtel de Ville on the Grand Place, the European Parliament and the Vilvoorde viaduct. You are even told that Mechelen Cathedral is visible on a clear day, although it’s hard to say whether that tiny squat structure is indeed the cathedral or a warehouse.
One thing you do notice. There are wide avenues that converge on the basilica from every direction. The message couldn’t be clearer. All roads lead to the vast Art Deco church on the Koekelberg hill.
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The famous Antwerp skyscraper has largely stood quiet and unchanged for almost a century. As it prepares for its 100th birthday and a new future, Helen Lyons dives into the past to uncover the history of this enduring symbol of Flemish prosperity
Brussels has its Atomium. It also has the Grand Place, the Royal Palace and the Palais du Justice, often proudly grouped together on the postcards and magnets sold in souvenir shops and at the airport, or photoshopped into impossible proximity in a bid to both evoke an entire city in a skyline.
Antwerp, however, has the Boerentoren –the Farmers’ Tower.
It’s not just a building – not now, and not when it was first designed in the 1920s. It was always more than a building, back when it existed only in blueprints, or in the dreams and ambitions of turn-of-the-century architects Jan Vanhoenacker, Émile Van Averbeke and Jos Smolderen. Even as its first stones were laid in the 1930s, as steel scaffolding climbed to heights never before seen in all of Europe, the sense that everyone had of the structure (be they passerby or directly involved in its labour or purpose) was that something more than a mere building was being erected in the crater left behind on Schoenmarkt after World War I. Rather, the 95.8-metre high tower that eventually rose to cast its long shadow over the once economic capital of the continent was a beacon: of Belgium’s global significance, of Flanders’ regional prosperity, of Antwerp’s undeniable place at the centre of the universe. As the locals say, “Antwerpen is 't stad en de rest is parking” – Antwerp is the city and the rest is parking. The tower boomed. Even if it weren’t exactly true just yet.
Antwerp had its Golden Age during the first half of the 16th century and by the time the 20th rolled around, had ceded its position as the beating
heart of Belgian’s financial markets to Brussels. At the start of the 1900s, Flanders was seen by many as the rural side of Belgium. The region’s elite took pains to speak French, hoping to distance themselves from this reputation of peasantry, and in no Flemish city did they make so great an effort to do so as in Antwerp.
Yet for all the stuffiness of the bourgeois class, if there is one thing that enduring cities seem to have in common, it is a lean towards progressivism. An open-minded collective mentality backed up by state-sanctioned tolerance for differing perspectives seems to beget innovation in human spaces. What may be more debatable is whether such progressivism is the result of kind hearts or because, as the professional historians of the Geheugen Collectief, Belgium’s first historical research agency, puts it more practically: “Ideological fanaticism is rarely a breeding ground for economic growth and prosperity.”
Regardless of the reason, nearly 400 years after Brueghel painted The Tower of Babel, Antwerp was again poised for growth and prosperity with its mind fully opened to the burgeoning movement that would later be known as Art Deco.
“Each style was once modern in its time,” the architects behind the Farmers’ Tower said in a 1929 interview with Vandaag, defending a project whose plans had already raised a few eyebrows among the city’s more traditional-minded residents.
The Farmers’ Tower was, at the time of its design, the answer to the Antwerp city council’s demand for a modern edifice in the city centre, with a preference for some sort of prestigious headquarters, perhaps. Then-mayor Frans Van Cauwelaert was a devoted student of the Flemish movement (he would go on to help found
Helen Lyons
Unfortunately for JeanJoseph, praise for his model did not convert into sales. The following month, Belgium was upended by its independence revolution, and he would die shortly after, in January 1831, aged 45.
the newspaper De Standaard, still considered by many to be, well, the standard when it comes to Belgium’s Dutch-language journalism). He was also young by politician standards, receptive to ideas that were bold and ambitious, and determined to put Antwerp’s best face forward for the upcoming 1930 World’s Fair in the city. By that measure, the undeveloped block at Schoenmarkt-Eiermarkt-Beddenstraat, still wearing its war wounds, presented an opportunity.
A new bank by the name of Algemeene Bankvereeniging (using the old Dutch spelling), in which the professional association of Flemish farmers had a large stake, saw it much the same. Alone in their keen intuition, they were the only bidder on the land and nabbed it for its minimum price of 7,200,000 Belgian francs. The only condition from Van Cauwelaert’s Antwerp was that a “monumental” building be erected on the site. For a bank as young as Algemeene Bankvereeniging, eager to prove that it deserved its place among the established giants, it was the perfect alignment of priorities. But for two main reasons – that the bank catered to those peasant farmers Flanders was increasingly ashamed of, and that the design for the building was inconceivably modern – they faced an uphill battle.
Is Antwerp really trying to compete with New York and Chicago in the skyscraper movement? Does a modern tower belong in a historic city centre? Won’t such a building humiliate the Antwerp Cathedral? And why this slick, stark style? These were the questions volleyed at the creative minds behind the project, and the architects answered them patiently: no, yes, no, and – using parlance that remains familiar nearly a century later – they asserted that anyone who exclusively favours old forms is a “dinosaur”. The same goes for those who only favour new, they added. Only those who can appreciate both have the right to call themselves modern.
The tower didn’t make the World’s Fair deadline (though fairgoers found the construction work worthy of gawking), but the fact that it took just three years to be completed is stunning considering what was demanded of it: 3,400 tons of steel, 4,700,000 bricks, 3,621 square metres of glass for the windows, and 610,000 screws and rivets combined. There’s a Roger de Villiers statue of the Virgin Mary that’s over two stories tall. Almost 1,400 cubic metres of special limestone was brought in from Burgundy. The Farmers’ Tower was not only a massive architectural undertaking but an artistic one, as well, with friezes and reliefs, caryatids and motifs. Many were symbols of art, architecture, agriculture, trade, science, engineering, prosperity, and shipping; some were designed by Antwerp’s own Arthur Pierre.
Antwerp carved into the building’s very facade what it had once achieved and aimed to be famous for again. Like an act of ritual magic, the structure was built of promises to itself, ambitions and grand designs for the future. The city intended to manifest its destiny in steel and baksteen and, as any Antwerpenaar today will assure you, succeeded.
Algemeene Bankvereeniging moved into the tower, merged into KBC Group in March 2005, and there isn’t all that much to be said of what happened regarding the building in the interim: it reached iconic status immediately after construction and has remained an enduring symbol of Antwerp ever since. The fact that it is still referred to as the Farmers’ Tower, despite its official name of KBC Tower, speaks to its immovable reputation.
In other words, those French-speaking bourgeois were wrong. Both the farmers and their bank prevailed.
In 2020, the Katoen Natie – Indaver group of companies acquired the architectural monument rising above the centre of Antwerp. Its chairman, Fernand Huts, who also holds the title Chairman of The Phoebus Foundation Public Benefit Foundation, has personal ties to the tower.
“When I told my 95-year-old mother that we were going to purchase the Farmers’ Tower, she replied: ‘So there is still justice in the world’,” Huts writes in the foreword to The Farmer’s Tower: Story of an Icon, the multi-authored book which serves as the definitive history of a building that has helped define Antwerp for nearly one hundred years.
Huts’ mother was a farmer’s daughter who grew up during that difficult first half of the 20th century when the economy fell at the same time as the tower rose. Huts reveals that the building’s nickname was an insult at its inception – a moniker applied mockingly amid the economic turmoil farming families in particular were grappling with. Indeed, the few who did not im-
mediately embrace the building as an icon after its construction were the very ones it remains named for.
“These farmers saw the tower, which Antwerpenaars had mockingly named after them, as a painful reminder,” Huts recalls through his mother’s eyes. “They faced desperate times while the bankers looked out over the city and the land from their luxurious building. The nickname that Antwerpenaars had assigned to the country’s very first skyscraper only rubbed salt in the wound.”
But as Antwerp and Flanders grew into the prosperity predicted by the tower, the wound healed. The scar faded. Few today would see the structure as anything other than a symbol of progress and modernity, as intended. After all, before its construction, the only towers in Antwerp were the pagadder towers: tall homes built during prosperous times by the merchant class for the sole purpose of demonstrating their wealth – “bragging rights but with style,” as historians put it. And now here was a tower named for the real economic engine of society, those who worked the earth with their hands,
Is Antwerp really trying to compete with New York and Chicago in the skyscraper movement?
Antwerp carved into the building’s very facade what it had once achieved and aimed to be famous for again. Like an act of ritual magic, the structure was built of promises to itself, ambitions and grand designs for the future.
built to house their wealth.
Huts describes the Farmers’ Tower as staunch and unflinching – “proud only as an Antwerpenaar can be,” himself among them.
“We are well aware that we have not just acquired a building,” he says, “but a tangible piece of Antwerp’s history.”
He is, of course, also well aware that they’ve acquired a building riddled with asbestos. And a building that has withstood Nazi bombs but also has some stability issues (interestingly, these are mainly recent ones: the upper floors were not part of the initial construction but rather added in the 1970s and aren’t as resilient to storms or heavy winds as the original impressive steel frame).
But the Farmers’ Tower is and always has been a dream for the future, Huts reminds any doubters: “Today, more than anything it seems like a monument that has almost miraculously stood the test of time. But monuments are fragile, and without purpose they fall apart at the
seams, literally and figuratively. Our tower, once a lively place bustling with activity, has stood empty in recent years. The giant lay sleeping.”
Not for long. Under the auspices of The Phoebus Foundation, the tower will be transformed into a cultural site featuring exhibitions, gastronomic experiences, and shops. The landmark will become a museum.
“None other than world-renowned architect Daniel Libeskind will transform the iconic tower into a veritable cultural tower,” The Phoebus Foundation promises.
“Libeskind's design unites art, functionality, ecology and structure while integrally preserving the original tower. This exceptional project will transform the Boerentoren into a culturally infused place where visitors can enjoy art, architecture, nature and the city.”
Of course, even a landmark as iconic as this is not immune to the rule that history repeats itself. When news broke that the revamp of the Farmers’ Tower entailed demolishing and rebuilding its top three stories, the public reaction was not unlike the one to the building’s initial construction.
Is Antwerp really going to alter such a beloved piece of architecture? Does a historic tower truly need to meet modern structural regulations? Won’t such a major change amount to a defacement of a city symbol? And what if the changes aren’t precisely Art Deco?
The creative minds behind the new vision for the tower offer assurances similar to those of its original architects. Truly modern people are, one may recall, those who appreciate both the old and the new. The only dinosaur welcome at the future Farmers’ Tower is the 67-millionyear-old Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton that will be part of the museum’s permanent collection.
Bolstering these assurances is one piece of undeniable evidence that the tower is resistant to changes that detract from its ultimate purpose: to every Antwerpenaar and even Belgian, it is still the Farmers’ Tower. What the bank named it doesn’t matter one bit. And the entity that owns it now, chaired by the descendant of farmers, seems unlikely to fight a century-old habit. Even such an ‘official’ source as Google Maps will, should you enter ‘KBC Tower’ into its search bar, transport you to an aerial view of that city block labelled Boerentoren. Description? Building. A diminution, for sure – a reductio that ignores the centuries of context and the present significance behind the monument. The Farmers’ Tower has always been and always will be more than just a building.
“Truly great projects are not commonplace,” write the authors of the tower’s history. “They emerge from the foundations of a vision, capital and a sense of glory.”
The Farmers’ Tower stands as a monument to a very special kind of glory – to the glory of a city and the people who continue to build it. Antwerpen is 't stad. De rest…is parking.
Techno haven Fuse has been igniting dance floors for 30 years. Nestled in the Marolles district, this iconic club has welcomed legends like Daft Punk and Laurent Garnier while cultivating a vibrant, inclusive community. Simon Taylor reports on three decades of sticky floors and booming basslines, and talks to the club’s biographer, Koen Galle Simon Taylor
I could already see people dancing and cheering to the music. I remember proclaiming: ‘The world is waiting for a techno club. It will happen here.’
Istill feel peaks of dopamine as I climb the stairs,” says Koen Galle, as he sums up the feeling of anticipation on entering the Fuse nightclub.
Galle is a DJ and author of a new book celebrating 30 years of the venue that epitomises Belgium’s pioneering techno scene.
If you haven’t been to Fuse, you are missing out on a treat. It is a Brussels nightspot that holds its head up with the big names of the Berlin, Ibiza and British clubbing scenes and that has brought joy to hundreds of thousands of clubbers since it opened its doors in 1994.
It is in an unlikely part of Brussels, in the working-class Marolles district and a long way from the bars, bright lights and tourist traps of the city centre. Once a cinema before becoming a disco and cultural centre for the local émigré Spanish community, Fuse is wedged between two ordinary-looking houses on the slightly down-at-heel street.
Galle’s book, Fuse: 30 Years of Making Noise,
which came out last December, is a labour of love to a legendary venue for the European techno scene, if not the world. “I was flabbergasted when I was asked to write a book about a place with its history and legacy,” he says.
He describes the first time he went there in the early 2000s as a techno fan and budding DJ. “It blew my mind,” Galle says.
Fuse owes its 30-year success to the talent and commitment of two people from the small West Flemish town of Kortrijk: marketing student Peter Decuypere, and Thierry Coppens, a law student.
Decuypere was a fan of techno music that was making its way from Detroit to Belgium via import record shops, while he and Coppens had been running a gay night called Le Délire at the Fifty Five club in Kuurne, a small town on the outskirts of Kortrijk. Fifty Five became the target of police raids and was ordered to shut down in 1992 on grounds of “lewdness”.
Decupyere and Coppens tried staging Le Délire at other places but ran up against the same opposition from the local authorities.
At the same time, Coppens had begun hosting a famous gay night called La Demence at the Disco Rouge (previously el Disco Rojo), the site of present-day Fuse. Decuypere, who was looking for a new venue, came to check out the place in 1992. “When Thierry turned on the light in the main room, it was as if I was seeing the light,” Decuypere said. “I could already see people dancing and cheering to the music. I remember proclaiming: ‘The world is waiting for a techno club. It will happen here.’”
Techno emerged as an up-tempo dance beat in the US in the mid-1980s, around the same time as house music. Both styles are inspired by European electronic artists such as Kraftwerk and Gary Numan and rely on electronic instruments such as Roland’s 808 drum machine that were just coming onto the market at affordable prices.
Techno, which is associated with the Detroit scene, is more electronic than house and often dispenses with vocals altogether or uses robotised voices. House originates from Chicago (being named after the Warehouse club) and is more soulful, often featuring gospel-style vocals.
Techno found a receptive audience in Belgium because it matched with homegrown genres like New Beat (which involved playing well-known records at slower tempos) and the Electronic Body Music (EBM) of groups like Front 242, with their use of drum machines and repetitive driving basslines.
Decuypere says he wanted to create a place in Brussels for techno that was what concert hall Ancienne Belgique was for live music: a venue with a reputation beyond Belgium that would attract musicians.
Although the venue on Rue Blaes had been used for playing music before – and had even hosted UK electropop band Depeche Mode in 1981 – it was far from the glitzy city-centre nightclubs. “The place has the same floor tiles you find in many Brussels apartments,” Galle explains.
Celebrated UK techno DJ Dave Clarke, a regular guest at the club, remembers that the dancefloor was always sticky because of the drinks spilt on it. “If you wear the wrong shoes, your feet are constantly sticking. It’s like doing an insane workout with friction control on something really hard,” Galle quotes him in the book.
Far from tapping into the growing popularity of techno, the early days of the new
club were hard, and they lost money fast. “The first three months were a disaster,” Decuypere says. “But I believed in the potential of techno.”
Over time, the club’s reputation grew and from around 1997 onwards the club, with a total capacity of around 1,500, was full every weekend with lines of people queuing to get in.
Over three decades, Fuse hosted many of the techno scene’s biggest names and played a role in launching a few careers, including Belgium’s own Charlotte de Witte and Amelie Lens, who both played their first sets there.
The place has the same floor tiles you find in many Brussels apartments.
French electronic music megastars Daft Punk played there in 1995without their trademark robot helmets.
French superstar DJ Laurent Garnier played at Fuse for the first time in 1994 and played the club regularly over the next 15 years. Garnier’s intimate relationship with the club came despite an early falling out with Decuyere after he told the Frenchman he would “never make it in Belgium.”
French electronic music megastars Daft Punk played there in 1995 - without their trademark robot helmets. Detroit techno originators such as Jeff Mills as well as second-wave heroes such as Carl Craig performed at Fuse frequently between 1994 and 2010.
British-Canadian DJ Ritchie Hawtin was a firm Fuse favourite. The club was even named after one of his early pseudonyms, F.U.S.E. (Whether it stood for Futuristic Underground Subsonic Experiments, Futuristic Underground Sound Experiments or Further Underground Sound Experiments has been lost in history.)
“The club was the perfect size, big enough to unite and obtain an explosive energy, but still intimate for the DJ and very close to the people,” he told Galle.
For Hawtin, clubs like Fuse and others in Belgium put the country firmly on techno’s map. “If you took Belgium out of the equation in the early 90s, there would be no European techno scene”, he continues.
Fuse even hosted artists outside the techno scene such as electronic music maverick
Aphex Twin in 1995. Decuypere remembers that the first two tracks of Aphex Twin’s set were completely undanceable, and many people left the floor for the upstairs room. “We never booked him again,” Decuypere says. Icelandic icon Björk played a set there in 1997 from her Homogenic album.
Successful clubs are less about the big names that play there and more about creating a sense of community for like-minded people where they can feel safe and share the highs of music and dancing. That was what Fuse succeeded in crafting, Galle says. “Going to Fuse was like coming home,” he says.
Fuse made its reputation as a techno club because that was the music played in its main room, but it always offered a range of musical styles in its other, smaller rooms. The upstairs room has featured nights playing house, trance, dub, trip-hop and other genres and sub-genres. At one point, the club even used the slogan ‘Fuck the Techno Purists’ on its flyers in a clear message from Decuypere to the musically dogmatic.
Adapting to changing musical tastes has been an important part of Fuse’s success. There are remarkably few places that are regarded as so important to the history of techno and remain essential fixtures on the cur-
rent scene.
Now in its 31st year, Fuse has been open at the same premises longer than Berlin’s legendary clubs like Berghain and Tresor. Berghain opened in 2004, ten years after Fuse opened its doors for the first time. Tresor started in 1991 but moved to a new location in 2007 after closing for two years.
As a club smack bang in the middle of a residential area, Fuse has always had to deal with neighbours. In the early days, the club had to overcome opposition from the city authorities.
The first time the club was forced to close (leaving aside the COVID period) because of resident complaints came in 2023 after the end of the lockdowns.
It was only thanks to support from local politicians like Brussels’ mayor Philippe Close
and Ecolo alderwoman Delphine Houba that Fuse could reopen. The politicians said the club was an important part of Brussels' cultural offering and an essential venue if Brussels was to be a truly cosmopolitan city. Their cause was doubtless helped by the fact that Close had been a fan of techno and dance music while Houba had partied there as a student.
The long-term future of Fuse remains uncertain even if the club is open for now. The Marolles area has gentrified and the new residents tend to be more sensitive to noise and clubgoers than the older community.
As Galle puts it, in launching Fuse, the founders laid the foundations for a club in which “new generations have been able to find a home” for their love of music and dance. Rave on.
Brussels hands who remember the club’s early days look back at Fuse’s legacy
Malte Helligsøe, EU affairs consultant
It's big and runs professionally, so things work and the sound is good – and it still manages to feel relevant. Often you get one or the other. It has done techno the whole time. That's already extremely rare - I can't think of another techno club that's been as long anywhere. It's also amazing that it was the first techno place in Brussels and that it's kept going. Which places carry on the legacy and spirit of Fuse? C12 of course – for harder, more underground acts than Fuse. Also, Horst Club in Vilvoorde, it’s in between a club and a festival but very well done.
Nick Blow, DJ and EU affairs consultant
Musically it was often too hard or techno for my more soulie tastes. I used to go on Sundays to La Demence and other nights that were more house. I always preferred the first floor musically. It’s iconic. It’s up there with the Berlin clubs in techno history.
At one point, the club even used the slogan ‘Fuck the Techno Purists’ on its flyers.
More than ever the world needs clubs like the Fuse: not taken over by the mainstream; where the focus is music and community; not posing for TikTok and a bland world decided by algorithms. Society needs alternative cultures and the underground more than ever.
Sarah Collins, journalist I love its muggy, dank dance floors, which feel so much bigger than the space actually is. I would like to think Fuse is still a major club, though I don’t think it’s as well known outside of Belgium anymore, except by the gay community: La Demence is an epic party. Fuse was a major and influential club, and its legacy can still be felt, certainly in my heart. I met one of my boyfriends on the dance floor there more than 10 years ago, and although we’re not together anymore, I have a real fondness for that time in my life. It reminds me of being young, in love and full of fun.
This museum feels like a rare gem.”
We’re standing in Meunier’s former house and atelier in Ixelles, where curator Dr Davy Depelchin bubbles with erudite passion. “It’s a hidden jewel within Belgium’s heritage,” he continues, “revealing itself only to those who seek it.”
One could say the same about Constantin Meunier himself. Formerly depicted on the 500 Belgian Franc note, many are no longer familiar with his name, even though the 19th century Brussels artist used to be a global celebrity mentioned in the same breath as Auguste Rodin. The lesser-known yet undisputed father of modern sculpture was also the source of much communist and fascist iconography.
So why did Meunier fade from public perception in the first place?
The problem might lie in Meunier’s principal subject: the industrial worker. While Rodin’s dramatic, sensual and humanistic sculptures are evergreen in their relatability, heavy industry barely exists in Europe today. The labourers of Meunier’s oeuvres are a far cry from the life experiences of most Brussels art museum visitors.
Yet the staff at the Constantin Meunier Museum are convinced that Meunier’s unique blend of idealism and realism, the monumental power of his grand figures, his equally virtuosic paintings and his dignified depictions of women can and will bring back the artist’s appeal, with a little help. In fact, while the museum was given a reshuffle and a lick of paint during the pandemic, recent plans for a broad refurbishment could give the museum a complete makeover in the coming years.
The aim is to encourage younger generations to understand the modern relevance of Meunier’s artistic insight. The project underpinning this – ‘Abbaye Road Revisited’ (the museum is on Rue de l’Abbaye) – has been undertaken in
partnership with the University of Antwerp since 2022.
Depelchin hopes a renovation will restore more of the former working atelier and cultural hub’s atmosphere. “This is no ordinary museum,” says the curator. “It's a portal into the world of an artist who was, in every sense, a pioneer – one who dared to show the real face of the industrial age.”
Constantin Meunier, born in 1831 in Etterbeek, originally trained as a sculptor. After spending the Brussels Salon of 1851 in the shadow of Gustave Courbet’s The Stonebreakers painting, however, he decided he could not embrace the full human spectrum through his chosen métier and switched to painting. There was also an economic motivation for the change, as sculpture required quite a bit of capital investment. The magnificent oil paintings now hanging in his museum belie the fact that he never trained in his second art discipline. He did, however, dedicate himself to painting for some 25 years. Meunier began with religious depictions and intimate scenes of his family, before progressing to the characters that he would become best known for: workers from all sectors of industry. His desire to elevate the most overlooked sectors of industrial society was further affirmed when, in 1868, he signed the principles of the Société Libre des Beaux-Arts stating that art should be free and accessible to a broader public. This desire, however, would be most iconically achieved through his original passion.
Meunier was called back to sculpture. Legend has it that he seized a block of wax in a friend’s studio and almost unconsciously modelled it into the shape of an iron worker’s head, suddenly realising that he could epitomize his beloved themes in bronze. This switch back to sculpture ultimately paved the way for the
most successful period of his artistic career.
Meunier’s working life spanned a transformative era in Belgium and Europe marked by rapid industrial growth and enormous human costs. The artist was struck by those whose sweat and toil powered this transformation: the miners, factory workers, farmhands and fishermen. Thus while his contemporaries focused on aristocratic or mythological themes, Meunier dedicated his paintbrush to the labourers.
His striking portrayals of intense human spirit in devastating conditions paid them a respect and reverence previous art rarely afforded the working class, which had instead been routinely ignored by the bourgeois cultural scene.
“His sculptures don’t just capture labourers,” says Depelchin. “They elevate them into almost mythical figures—gods and goddesses of industry. Timeless heroes.”
Only in his 60s did Meunier start to earn a decent living as an artist. A series of salon participations in the 1880s and 90s finally garnered him international admiration – and much-needed sales. Prior to this, his family had often struggled to make it to the end of the month. By 1899, he and his wife finally purchased a house – the seat of today’s museum on Rue de l’Abbaye in Ixelles. The couple built it from scratch in just a year and included a spacious studio.
The building has a peculiar structure. You enter via steps above what looks like a garage door but is actually a passageway to the studio at the back. Inside is a large open reception room where Meunier would receive potential buyers and host cultural gatherings.
Indeed the neighbourhood at the time buzzed with musicians, poster artists, writers and more. Some familiar names include artists Edmond Picard, Octave Maus and Julius Meier-Graefe, as well as renowned musicians like the Ysaÿe brothers and writers Emile Verhaeren and Camille Lemonnier.
Sadly, Meunier would only enjoy his home for five years before he was found dead at the atelier entrance by his best friend. Meunier had collapsed while finishing a representation of Emile Zola that would be melted down by the Nazis several decades later. Meunier’s daughter and her husband managed the estate until they sold it to the Belgian state in 1936. Just over 40 years later, the museum was integrated into Belgium’s Royal Museums of Fine Arts.
Now museum visitors are surrounded by works that speak to Meunier’s deep love for his subjects. The space is filled with sketches, studies, completed pieces, oil paintings, bronze sculptures, reliefs and giant statues –all showcasing his dedication to the power and pathos of the working class. Among the often grim and muted works there’s sometimes a more colourful angle, such as in the paint-
ing Tobacco Factory in Seville (1883), which depicts the ladies in colourful garments with stylish hairdos supplying Europe’s smokers.
Along the corridor of bronze sculptures and reliefs, the forms veer between painting-like, where bronze shapes sink into flatness and true sculpture, in which they emerge from their landscapes. Miners Leaving Shaft Head is viewed from right to left, with the carved, helmed heads of the back of the queue giving way to a miner loping out of the frame, a take on the iconic evolution of man. The figure escapes his classification as a mere worker and departs the artwork itself.
Meunier also depicted women, but not sensualised or sexualised, nor in a seductive posture, Depelchin points out as we stand in front of a girl with a shovel, gazing out of the 1887 painting The Coal Miner with a frank and unpretentious gaze. “This was a rare representation for his time,” he says.
In the atelier space, visitors are confronted with monumental statues towering with mute
power. The Hammerman is one of Meunier’s most iconic pieces, presenting a metalworker in a heroic stance, muscular body frozen as he rests on his long metal tool – or perhaps frozen mid-strike. Protective headgear and foot coverings give him an almost monastic feel as he gazes past you with an instinctive knowing we can only guess at.
Meunier’s focus on workers resonates with ongoing discussions on the value of human labour and what it means to honour the contributions of those who keep society functioning. The museum also stands as a testament to the countless people whose stories were never told – those who built the world around us but remained invisible. At the Musée Meunier, visitors engage not just with art, but with a deeply human history.
“This isn’t just a museum,” says Depelchin, “it’s a testament to the power of art to remember, honour and elevate everyday lives and monumental history.”
Constantin Meunier Museum
Rue de l'Abbaye 59, 1050 Ixelles
Open: Tue-Fri 10am-12pm and 12:45pm-5pm. Sat-Sun open for groups, reservation necessary.
+32 (0)2 648 44 49
Early Life: Born in 1831 in Etterbeek, Meunier trained as a sculptor, switched to painting for several decades, then returned to sculpture with renewed inspiration.
Focus on Workers: Unlike most artists of his era, Meunier elevated the lives of miners, dockworkers and industrial labourers with dignity and realism.
Liège Influence: Liège was an industry hub for Belgian steel and coal – his visits there deeply affected Meunier and, consequently, his art.
Auguste Rodin: Meunier and the French sculptor admired, corresponded with and influenced each other.
Major Works: Notable Meunier works include The Hammerman, The Sower and The Puddler, all showcasing his realist yet monumental style.
Social legacy: Meunier strived to capture the everyday essence of workers, making him a forefather of social realism in European art and a huge influence on Fascist and Communist iconography.
In addition to the Musée Constantin Meunier, many of Meunier’s works can be found elsewhere, around Brussels and further afield.
Constantin Meunier Museum
Rue de l'Abbaye 59, 1050 Ixelles
This trove of Meunier’s paintings, drawings and sculptures is part of the Royal Museums of Belgium, the foremost place to get your industrial realist fix.
Botanical Gardens
Bd Saint-Lazare, 1210 Saint-Josse-ten-Noode
Meunier was co-author of the general concept of the Botanic Gardens and several of his monumental sculptures are to be found there, including The Sower (Summer) and Autumn.
Square Ambiorix
The green square in the European Quarter hosts Meunier’s At the Watering Place, depicting a thirsty horse with a majestic figure in the saddle.
Cinquantenaire Park
The Reaper can be found on the southwest corner of the park.
Laeken
Rue Claessens, Quai des Yachts, 1020 Laeken
One of Meunier’s most prominent works, the Monument to Labour, stands along the canal in Laeken. This multi-figure edifice represents various labour scenes, including miners, dockers and steelworkers. The monument framing the pieces, however, came long after Meunier’s death, and the blocky 1930s interwar style jars with his elaborate figures.
Etterbeek
Not actually a Meunier statue, but the city’s monument to the man, inaugurated in 1931 on Place des Acacias, Avenue de la Chasse.
Around the city
Keep your eye peeled around Brussels for various of Meunier’s works and reliefs, which are scattered on a few public and historical buildings.
Grote Markt, Antwerp; Friedensbrucke, Frankfurt, Germany; Glyptotek, Copenhagen, Germany; Lastenträger, Dresden, Germany; Hamnarbetare, Stockholm, Sweden; El estibador, Lima, Peru
Meunier’s the Dock Worker (Le Débardeur du port d'Anvers) has been adopted by many port cities around the world. In Antwerp, it is just out of sight of the more recognisable Brabo's Monument.
Museum of Fine Arts, Ghent
A diverse collection of his works, from paintings to smaller studies, represents Meunier’s oeuvres here.
Leuven City Hall
His monument to Father Damien can be found in front of Saint Jacob's Church.
Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA)
Eight of Meunier’s paintings are on display in the prestigious museum.
Middelheim Open Air Sculpture Museum, Antwerp
The Sower can be found in the gardens of the sculpture museum, near to two by his mentor, Rodin.
Musée d'Orsay, Paris, France
Meunier’s The Miner and The Hammerman are among seven of his bronzes in the hallowed halls of one of Paris’ most renowned museums.
Alte Nationalgalerie, Berlin, Germany
The Sower is placed prominently in front of the UNESCO World Heritage Museum.
Google Arts & Culture
Head online for a virtual exploration of many of Meunier's works, including sculptures and paintings, with high-definition images and 360° views.
We believe the children should be able to learn through their favourite learning style. At BEPS, they engage in their learning through a variety of visual, auditory and kinaesthetic activities. As a result, they are able to define which learning style is the best for them.
Developing creative and critical thinking skills is just as important as developing the program of knowledge in disciplines.
Every learner needs to learn how to transfer what they’ve used in one area to another.
Highlight the role of approaches to learning in well-being, particularly in learning how to self-manage and the development of healthy habits.
We make the most of industry connections to give an authentic context wherever we can. Career-based learning is more than a ‘course’ – it’s an exciting way to learn whatever your age.
We ensure every child understands the potential pathways in life they might take, from a young age.
We spot the opportunities for taking learning beyond the walls of the school into the outdoor environment and the city.
Authentic learning and work is interdisciplinary. Every child should have the opportunity to connect disciplinary learning in rich, authentic ways.
We need to support students in projects that develop research skills and embed academic integrity.
We need to design or choose processes and tools for planning together, and sharing assessment between disciplines.
With their fading parchment and delicate ink, old maps are more than just artefacts. They are whispers from the past, offering us glimpses into the minds of those who charted the unknown.
These maps tell stories of curiosity and courage, where every line drawn was an act of hope and imagination. They teach us about the limits of knowledge and the boundless thirst to transcend those limits, to venture beyond familiar shores into the vast, uncharted seas.
From these charts, we learn the art of seeing the world not as it is, but as it could be. The dragons and sea monsters adorning the edges of the map are no mere decorations. They symbolise the fears and mysteries that once defined the boundaries of human understanding. Yet, they also remind us that exploration is more than physical. It is also intellectual, an endless journey to illuminate the shadows of the unknown.
The images on the following pages are from Groundbreakers, a recently published collection of remarkable maps from the Low Countries between 1500 and 1900. They were curated by historian Anne-Rieke van Schaik who immersed herself in the many stories behind the maps, prints, atlases, globes and instruments from the Phoebus Foundation collection.
The objects testify to a history containing the never-ending battle against water and the Eighty Years War to colonial expansion and the struggle for Belgian independence. Particular attention is paid to the Southern Netherlands, modern-day Belgium, where maps by 16th-century pioneers like Gerard Mercator and Abraham Ortelius opened up new paths, both literally and figuratively – and even today, provide panoramas of the past.
These old maps reveal that the world is not static but ever-changing, shaped by discovery, conquest and connection. They remind us that our own perceptions, like the maps of yore, are incomplete — mere sketches of a reality far richer and more complex than we can imagine.
Leo Cendrowicz
Leo Cendrowicz
Above: the original Leo Belgicus, or Belgian lion, in a map. It was conceived by Austrian diplomat and historian Michael Eytzinger, whose book entitled De Leone Belgico (Cologne, 1583) on the neighbouring countries was richly illustrated. The book appeared just as the Eighty Years' War was breaking out, when there was a need for catchy and powerful imagery for the new united Netherlands, which perhaps explains why the Leo Belgicus struck such a chord. Other versions followed.
Top right: Comitatus Hollandiae denuo forma Leonis, by Claes Jansz. Visscher, 1622
Below right: The Truce Lion, Claes Jansz. Visscher 1611, draw during the Twelve Years Truce (1609-1621). Note soldier snoozing on the right by the lion’s front paw, representing a break in the violence
Bottom left: Leo Belgicus as title print from Famiano Strada, De Bello Belgico. Decas secunda, 1648.
Bottom right: Het Graafschap Hollandt: Leo Belgicus as title print for Bernardus Mourik’s Naamregister. 1780
Triptych of city views of Den Bosch, Leuven and Mechelen in the duchy of Brabant, in Civitates Orbis Terrarum, 1599 city atlas compiled by Georg Braun and Frans Hogenberg. ’s-Hertogenbosch – literally ‘the Duke’s Forest’ –includes immense St John’s Cathedral, seat of the archdiocese. Leuven panorama shows the old city walls and the castle and watchtower. Mechelen’s Keizershof and Hof van Hoogstraten (two royal residences) stand out while St Rumbold’s Church is described as a ‘very tall and fine tower’
At its core, The Green Elevator Cage is a story about the complexities of family and the emotional distances that time, geography, and circumstance can create.
In The Green Elevator Cage, his debut novel, author Claude Rakisits takes readers on a captivating journey that spans five continents and over fifty years—1962-2019, exploring not just the quest for answers, but the quest for self-understanding. At the heart of the novel is Max, a man determined to uncover the mysteries of his childhood in the Belgian Congo. Along the way, he confronts three life-changing revelations. His journey takes him across a series of distinct and unforgettable locations—from Brussels and the hallowed halls of a Belgian boarding school in the 1960s and 1970s to expatriate life in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, a remote diamond mine in Tanzania, and the laid-back charm of Australia.
At its core, The Green Elevator Cage is a story about the complexities of family and the emotional distances that time, geogra-
phy, and circumstance can create. The novel examines the fractured yet deeply loving relationship between Max, his mother, and his sister, Claudia, who, despite a shared past, have spent much of their lives apart. As they attempt to uncover the truth of their childhood in the Belgian Congo, the siblings must navigate a tangled web of memories, secrets and painful revelations.
This global family saga, set against the backdrop of major historical and geopolitical changes, would appeal to anyone with an interest in the past, its complexities, and its impact on individual lives. It is a perfect read for those who love to get lost in a narrative that includes flying on a DC4 over the Congo, illicit romance in Tanzania or living in remote locations far from the bustle of modern life. Whether you're an expat who has lived far from home, someone nostalgic for a bygone
era before smartphones came on the scene, or a lover of stories that span time and place, The Green Elevator Cage offers a rich, immersive experience that will resonate long after the final page.
Claude Rakisits’s own journey adds an extra layer of resonance to the novel. Born in the Belgian Congo and raised in a diverse array of countries, including Belgium, Lebanon and Saudi Arabia, Rakisits’s life has been shaped by the intersection of cultures and the complexities of global politics. After living in Canada for five years, he moved to Australia
in 1982 on a scholarship to do a PhD in political science at the University of Queensland and has since built a career as an expert on international affairs and national security. Affiliated with Australian and overseas academic institutions and think tanks, he continues to write and speak on international affairs while also writing fiction. Dr Rakisits is married with an adult daughter. He divides his time between Australia and Europe.
The Green Elevator Cage is available on Amazon, as paperback or eBook, as well as at Waterstones and other major bookstores.
A playlist on Spotify of the 50+ musical tracks—Jazz, classic and pop— referred to in The Green Elevator Cage is available to accompany the reader on Max’s journey.
Claude Rakisits’s own journey adds an extra layer of resonance to the novel. Born in the Belgian Congo and raised in a diverse array of countries, including Belgium, Lebanon and Saudi Arabia, Rakisits’s life has been shaped by the intersection of cultures and the complexities of global politics.
In a city known for fine chocolate and high-stakes politics, another reality unfolds in a church basement, where sardines are gold, Nutella is a luxury, and food bank volunteers often queue for their own rations. Jon Eldridge watches as the Community Kitchen soup kitchen dishes out dinners
In the basement hall of the Holy Trinity, an Anglican church just off Brussels’ well-heeled Toison d’Or area, Lola calls out numbers on an electronic counter. At the tail end of this day’s food distribution, the counter blinks ‘80’ as still more than a dozen individuals – mostly migrants – wait patiently on foldable chairs for their number to be called.
Lola is business-like and efficient, and she’s also one of the nearly 100 people who turn up every week at this food bank and soup kitchen in Ixelles, run by the charity Community Kitchen. Lola both helps out and takes a bag of essential food items home with her.
“Working at the food bank is helping raise my spirits,” she says.
Lola was previously a hairdresser, but she had to stop for health reasons. She found out about the facility through a public sector debt service and insists that the minimum income guaranteed by the state (often referred to as minimex) has not kept up with the sharp rise in food prices over the past few years.
“Some items are almost twice as expensive. More and more people are finding it very difficult to get by.”
Lola says she hasn’t told her two children, also hairdressers, about her connection to the food bank, as she does not want them to worry about whether she’s looking after herself (hence her reluctance to share her full name).
Lola, however, is by no means the only beneficiary of the food bank to also volunteer. Chris Guichot de Fortis, who originally set up the food bank in Anderlecht seven years ago, says that around half of those helping out also use the service.
Guichot de Fortis, a semi-retired interpreter who still works for major international organisations like NATO, says the food
bank has grown “exponentially.” He suspects this is due to both word of mouth and greater need, pointing to Belgium’s growing number of undocumented migrants.
Since its move to Holy Trinity Brussels four years ago, Guichot de Fortis’s food bank has been part of the Community Kitchen charity, which also uses the church premises and holds an AFSCA licence to operate a food bank. However, its origins lie with l’Olivier 1996, a refugee social and legal service Guichot de Fortis founded in 1992.
“The Olivier helps people with their asylum and regularisation claims, as it is everyone’s interest that situations be regularised, but we provide social services as well, and the food bank was originally an emanation of that,” he says. “Feeding people to me is social justice.”
Although they receive some food donations, Community Kitchen buys most of the produce. Guichot de Fortis does the shopping himself, mostly at Colruyt, since he says it’s cheaper than using the wholesale suppliers of restaurants and bars.
Having worked with what he calls “the marginalised” for over 50 years, he says he has a pretty good idea of the items required, though the product line has been refined over the years. Visitors to the food bank can choose six or seven necessities from a stock of around 15 or so items, depending on how much is available that day.
“Sugar, sardines and tea and coffee are items people clearly want. Some articles go faster than others, such as jam and Nutella,” Guichot de Fortis says, though he admits he buys the generic hazelnut spread to save money. “Rice and pasta, milk, the basics are obvious. And people love sardines – they can’t
Jon Eldridge
Rice and pasta, milk, the basics are obvious. And people love sardines – they can’t get enough of them!
We’ve become a community that people come to join and find a safe space, do something useful and have access to food.
get enough of them!”
Of the food donations they do receive, some can be tricky to manage.
“Sometimes a big company can be catering for 500 people and has 250kg of lamb chops left over, for example. But, of course, the difficulty is in giving it out before its sellby date or if it’s frozen, maintaining the cold chain and complying with AFSCA’s rules. It’s complicated, and there’s definitely a place for some entity to better coordinate all of that.”
The food bank is part of an informal network coordinated by the CPAS/ OCMW public social action centre in Ixelles, which shares information among its members.
“The idea was to coordinate opening times and to make sure there’s a bank open every day of the week; that way we don’t have six food banks on a Thursday and one on a Monday,” Guichot de Fortis explains. “Also, if there’s 300kg of bread available somewhere [bakery chains and supermarkets are common sources], we pass on that news. It’s maximising the use of excess.”
Guichot de Fortis says he is motivated by his Christian faith, which he believes should be demonstrated practically rather than from a pew. He also recognises, however, that all charities share a common dilemma. “As long as we’re feeding people that are hungry, the state can distance itself from that sector, even though you might say that any organised state should supply food to its population. It’s always a Catch 22: the more we do and the better we do it, the more the state can say, ‘we can withdraw,’” he says.
He favours improving coordination between the state and the charities. “We could have the state fund the charities whereby they would become to some extent the agents of the state.”
For now, at least, the Community Kitchen funding for the food bank comes from private and institutional donations.
“The more proactive I am in talking in churches and going into companies, the better,” he says.
Further into the basement hall of the church, the work of the Community Kitchen continues throughout the afternoon. One of its main activities is providing meals for the Humanitarian Hub Day Centre, a facility for homeless people, migrants and asylum seekers established near the Tour and Taxis building in 2020 by several NGOs.
The Hub’s food distribution operation, coordinated by the Red Cross, provides up to around 500 meals twice a day, 85% of which are produced in the Holy Trinity kitchen.
“Before the Hub, food support for migrants and refugees on the streets in Brussels was really disorganised and ad hoc,” says Gayl Russell, a British lawyer specialising in drafting EU legislation and the main driving force behind Community Kitchen as its project director.
In 2018, Russell began volunteering at a project similar to Community Kitchen called Le Phare, run by Serve the City. The project provided hot soup to around 100 people at a Salvation Army building near Place Sainte-Catherine from a “tiny kitchen,” she says.
“I was thinking, we’ve got an enormous kitchen at Holy Trinity and we’re not doing much with it. We should be doing something like this there.”
After internal discussions in the church, her initiative began in 2019 and produced meals for Le Phare and the social service
Sant'Egidio, as well as muffins for Serve the City’s Breakfast for Refugees. The project was conducted with a handful of volunteers who helped out a couple of days a week. It grew rapidly, however, and in 2020 the charity HTB Community Kitchen was born.
Russell says the pandemic was the main catalyst for scaling up operations, since many places that provided hot meals indoors could not continue as before. The need arose for takeaway meals that could be given out on the street, and Community Kitchen was increasingly asked to supply meals for Serve the City and Platforme Citoyenne’s food distributions.
The Hub reopened in September of 2020 with a special dispensation to serve takeaway food indoors at its spacious premises, and soon the Red Cross also began to depend on Community Kitchen, “because of all the different outfits around the city that were cooking, we were most organised,” Russell says.
The initiative’s AFSCA licence was also a pivotal factor, since most volunteer-led organisations cannot meet the government agency’s “onerous” food hygiene requirements.
“Having the licence has enabled us to scale up and meet the needs of the Hub,” Russell says. “When we started sending meals to the Hub, we were doing one or two meals a week, and now we do almost seven days a week!”
The Red Cross also benefits from the ease of dealing with one organisation rather than having the “headache” of coordinating multiple different groups, as was initially the case.
Community Kitchen relies on helpers, who volunteer via the Serve the City app called ServeNow, to prepare and portion the food. The meals are mostly vegetarian pasta or rice-based dishes that can be ladled into individual aluminium containers, sealed and then packed into heat-retaining boxes. On average, Community Kitchen now prepares around 5,000 meals a week.
Russell initially coordinated the charity’s production, but a full-time operations manager is now employed along with a full-time kitchen manager. A young Iranian female refugee, whose status was regularised thanks in part to her work at the kitchen, as well as another woman with a similar story, are also employed by Community Kitchen through the CPAS.
In addition to the occasional volunteers who range from students to the retired, the kitchen relies heavily on a core team of around nine people. They are mostly mi-
grants, but there are also some individuals with learning difficulties.
“We’ve become a community that people come to join and find a safe space, do something useful and have access to food,” Russell says.
These volunteers also receive a modest volunteering allowance, which helps them meet some basic needs. Russell believes it is the church’s role to show love to the most vulnerable, and feeding people is at the heart of that mission.
“We’re helping people to get through the day, in the hope that if they know they’ve got a stable source of food, maybe they can then start accessing other services that will help them get their lives back on track,” Russell says.
Though the kitchen facilities have now grown to full capacity, the basement hall continues innovating. This year, the team launched Community Café, serving free coffee, cake and soup to food bank visitors. The initiative is in its early stages but still follows the project’s community ethos of “taking care of our neighbours,” she says.
The Humanitarian Hub Day Centre receives no state funding and depends on donations. If you would like to support, visit: communitykitchen.be
We’re helping people to get through the day, in the hope that if they know they’ve got a stable source of food, maybe they can then start accessing other services that will help them get their lives back on track.
136 food banks operate in the Brussels region serving more than 30,000 people, according to the foodbank association Banque Alimentaire Bruxelles - Brabant.
673 food distribution organisations are active across Belgium serving more than 200,000 people, according to the Fédération Belge des Banques Alimentaires.
4,000+ volunteers contribute every year to the more than 40 projects organised by Serve the City ; initiatives focus on the homeless, seekers and refugees, the elderly, persons with disabilities, children in need and victims of abuse.
One woman, 25 kids, and a Facebook group that’s saving foster care in Belgium: Ingrid Geudens turned a supermarket flyer into a life’s mission and founded an award-winning non-profit. As Lisa Bradshaw reports, Geudens – and others – are filling the gaps when foster care is stretched to the limit
Ingrid Geudens has two babies and a toddler. With two teenage children also at home, she is mother to a brood of five. Currently, anyway. Tomorrow it could be fewer, but then next week it could grow again. Geudens has been a foster parent for more than 16 years now, fostering 25 children along the way.
The founder of the non-profit Pleegouderforum, or Foster Parent Forum, Geudens was recognised last autumn for her service to foster families. The recipient of a BeHeroes award, which celebrates the work of everyday heroes, the 54-year-old was one of a handful of recipients to be granted an audience with Belgium’s King Philippe.
But she’s less interested in talking about that than in talking about what works – and what doesn’t – in foster care. Geudens has one of what she calls a “belly daughter,” but always wanted more children. A single mum living in Kapelle-op-den-Bos – about 14km north of Brussels – she attended a foster care info session after seeing a flier in a supermarket.
“I decided I wanted to do it – for one child,” she says, laughing. “I talked about it with my daughter, who was 11 at the time. She was very excited, telling me she always wanted a big family. Whoa, I said, just one.”
Within a few months, a three-year-old girl was placed in their home. It became a long-term situation, though Geudens and the child met regularly with the birth mother and her in-the-meantime second child. This built trust, which led to what happened two years later.
The birth mother “was pregnant with her third child and couldn’t take care of her second one,” explains Geudens. “She called me on a Sunday evening, I still remember it. She said she was taking a taxi to my place and bringing me her son. Half an hour later she was there with two plastic bags of his clothes and toys.”
Left: Ingrid Geudens
The three-year-old boy knew Geudens from the many visits, and he had even spent the night before. But when his mum left, “he started crying and wouldn’t stop. They feel that something is different. It’s not the same as the last time when mama said goodbye, see you tomorrow. He felt that, and he was hysterical.”
Geudens alerted foster care services. “They said I had two choices: Take him in, and we will arrange the administration. Or we’ll call the police, and they’ll come to get him. I thought, well no, I’m not going to hand him over to the police.” Now 16, he is still part of the Geudens family. His biological sister, meanwhile, is 18 and studying midwifery at college.
It sounds idyllic, but the journey has been fraught with challenges. “The way my foster daughter behaves at home is not the same as the way she behaves everywhere else. Normal social behaviour outside, trauma at home. When children are damaged, they think differently, they act differently.”
Geudens found it difficult to connect with other foster parents to discuss everything. So she founded Foster Parent Forum, which connects people largely through two private Facebook groups – one for active and one for potential foster parents.
“I cannot explain to other people how and why my daughter is totally different at home. But foster parents, they understand,” explains Geudens. “And they don’t judge.” The Facebook groups allow foster families to ask questions, give advice and compare notes.
The largely Dutch-language group is about 1,300 strong. “When you have a question about foster care, there’s always someone with an answer.” Sometimes that is Geudens herself. Very down to earth in a
Lisa Bradshaw
I talked about it with my daughter, who was 11 at the time. She was very excited, telling me she always wanted a big family. Whoa, I said, just one.
I’ve seen babies who have just given up, they do not make eye contact, there is no connection, no matter how hard you try.
sweater, jeans and wrist tattoos, her stories about children are peppered with details. The tones of her husky voice might rise and fall, but she is surprisingly calm as she relays what she has seen throughout the years.
It includes women who have six or seven babies, knowing they will hand them over to social services as soon as they are born. Fiveyear-olds who have been so severely neglected they cannot speak or feed themselves. Brain haemorrhages in drug-addicted mums during birth. And drug-addicted babies who must go through withdrawal. “I’ve seen babies who have just given up,” she says. “They do not make eye contact, there is no connection, no matter how hard you try. They don’t expect anything anymore and are in a kind of trance. They look right through you.”
Geudens is now an authority on foster care, taken up in Flanders’ Expert Data Bank as a contact for researchers and policymakers and establishing relationships with foster care services. But these relationships can be tested. Social workers have started calling on Geudens in crisis situations when foster care services cannot find a family. Foster families are registered according to their preference: long and short-term placements, as well as emergency placements, when a child needs to go somewhere immediately (theoretically for a few weeks, but this often turns into months).
The first time Geudens was contacted directly by a social worker, she posted to her active foster family Facebook group that there was a baby in need. “Within half an hour, I had seven families,” she says. “I gave the names to the social worker and told him to pick one. It was an abundance of riches for
him. He had no one, and now he had seven.” This prompted Geudens to start another Facebook group, dedicated to crisis placements. So far 113 children have been placed this way. It’s simple, but effective – something Geudens says is missing from foster care services. Helping social workers place children – with the official foster services only being told afterwards – is overstepping the boundaries, she has been told. “And I understand that,” she admits. “But we are talking about a child.”
In Flanders, foster care is organised at the provincial level, brought together at the regional level via Pleegzorg Vlaanderen. It’s much the same in Wallonia, with local agencies bundled under Famille d’accueil. Both agencies provide services in Brussels, where authorities and potential foster families can contact either one.
“In a crisis situation, we look for an immediate solution,” says Jeroen Vandenbussche of Pleegzorg Vlaanderen. “We always try to find the best option for the child. Everyone working in fostering starts from that idea: I will take care of children.” But with some 13,000 foster children across the country and only 9,000 registered families, doing fast placements “is not easy,” he says. “We don’t have enough crisis families. We don’t have enough families in foster care in general.”
Considering that, he is grateful to Foster Parent Forum for their help. “But it’s Facebook,” Vandenbussche points out. “We have to respect privacy regulations. The members of the group can take a child in crisis, but afterwards the foster care service checks to
make sure that that family can handle another child.”
A foster parent himself, Vandenbussche appreciates the agency’s emphasis on taking care of the families as well as the children. “If a baby is in crisis, of course I would always want to say yes, but it’s the job of the foster care service to see if it’s really possible to put a child into a certain family.”
A lack of crisis families could easily be solved, says Geudens. “Most of the people who react to the calls on Facebook are not actually registered as emergency families,” she says. “Because in all the years that they are available for long- or short-term placements, nobody asks them if they could take care of a child in an emergency.” She looks straight into my eyes and repeats it. “Nobody asks them.”
Foster families can register to be emergency contacts and Vandenbussche says his agency is not going to push them into something they might not be ready for. “It’s important to reflect on the engagement you are making,” he says. “It’s not a Christmas tree, it’s a child. We don’t want people to take children and then say after a few weeks, I can’t do this. It’s worth waiting a bit longer to get it right.”
Still, inspired by Foster Parent Forum’s Facebook groups, Pleegzorg Vlaanderen is developing an app to do more efficient outreach to families for emergency placements. “The app will work in essentially the same way,” says Van den Bussche. “But not via Facebook.”
Geudens is relieved that Pleegzorg Vlaanderen is taking the step. She is an emergency foster parent herself – hence the three toddlers residing in her home. Families can choose what age of children they want to foster. Geudens profile is between newborn and one year old “because of the attachment issue,” she says.
She’s referring to those babies who stare right through you – who, through neglect, have lost the ability to bond. “A child makes millions of neural connections in their first 1,000 days,” she says. “Or they don’t.”
This leads us to Knuffies, a programme in which volunteers head into neonatal units to simply hold babies. Incorporating the Dutch word for cuddle – knuffel – it is an initiative of the Foster Parent Forum, in response to the well-known adverse effects of touch deprivation.
Some babies born in hospital are not destined to go home with their biological parents. Yet studies have shown that physical touch in the first weeks of life is crucial for healthy brain development. A lack of it can lead to long-term effects on cognition, social
skills and bonding. For drug-addicted babies – who already face developmental problems – the problem is compounded.
Hospital staff do not have time to provide this level of nurturing. Now part of a pilot project at Sint-Vincentius Hospital in Deinze, East Flanders, Knuffies matches a baby in the hospital to a maximum of two volunteers, who will hold and feed them daily.
“Children who have not had adequate physical and emotional attention are at a greater risk of behavioural problems,” says Sabine Van de Vyver, head midwife at the neonatal unit at Sint-Vincentius. She also emphasises that body-to-body contact can help prevent illness, even into adulthood. “These trends point to the lasting effects of the early childhood environment, and the changes the brain undergoes during that period.” Her department has pioneered Knuffies “because we think that this initiative can help babies at risk for touch deprivation.”
Knuffies do not have to be foster parents but are carefully screened and trained. About 800 people have already shown an interest, and three hospital networks have agreed to more pilot projects. Geudens says the ultimate goal is to roll the program out in every hospital in Flanders.
The only hurdle now, she says, is paying for the required insurance. Foster Parent Forum has embarked on fundraising efforts, unable to secure public resources – although Geudens says it will save money in healthcare costs in the long run. Government administrations, she says, don’t think longterm. “They are in force for four years. We cannot prove that Knuffies works in four years. You have to wait 12 or 16 years to see these results.”
It’s not a Christmas tree, it’s a child. We don’t want people to take children and then say after a few weeks, I can’t do this. It’s worth waiting a bit longer to get it right.
How successful have European countries been at unifying their populations linguistically? Where does Belgium fit in it? What part does the spread of English in post-Brexit Europe play in NATO’s war against Russia? Philippe Van Parijs crunches some new numbers
Europe’s linguistic landscape has not changed more dramatically – at least, without population displacement – than it has over the last three decades. This has been nothing short of a linguistic revolution, the full extent of which can be assessed thanks to an imaginative use of a 2024 Eurobarometer survey produced by the European Commission.
The official report and fact sheets cover the many aspects of the survey, but give little insight into the profound transformation of Europe’s language usage and its implications. Luckily, Languageknowledge. eu , an interactive website that mobilises the Eurobarometer’s linguistic data, has just launched a new version to help make sense of what is happening.
The website provides information on the native language of residents in each of the European Union’s 27 member states, as well as on the languages they learned later in life. It divides the survey participants into three age groups (15-34, 35-54 and 55+) and does so using both the 2024 Eurobarometer survey and its 2012 predecessor.
Using these data, the website can tell us, for example, which countries are most successful at national unification through the linguistic integration of both newcomers and regional minorities. Of the EU’s 27 member states, 24 use a closely related word for their national language and their country. (Austria, Belgium and Cyprus are the exceptions.) This homonymy is no accident. The unity and even the territorial integrity of a nation are closely linked to the sharing of a single language by all or most of its citizens.
It turns out that nearly all EU member states are less linguistically unified in 2024 than they were in 2012.
Six countries manage to get nearly 98% of their population to know their national language well or very well. That wasn’t too difficult for Hungary, which has the highest proportion of native speakers of the national language. It was, though, a major achievement for Germany, with less than 90% of native German speakers.
But what about the other end of the scale? The four least linguistically unified
performers include Latvia at 88% and Estonia at 82%. Not so surprising, given that about a quarter of their populations are native Russian-speaking (compared to only 4% in Lithuania). The other two low performers are peculiar cases: Luxembourg with about 89% and — by far, the lowest — Belgium, with less than 66%.
More people in Belgium and Luxembourg can speak French than any other language. But French is not the most widespread native language in either country (it’s Dutch in Belgium and Luxembourgish in Luxembourg). Nor is French the national language in Luxembourg – and it is only one of three national languages in Belgium.
Yet French was declared the only language of legislation in Belgium’s 1831 constitution when Luxembourg was still part of the country. Belgium scrapped this exclusivity in 1898; Luxembourg never did. This is arguably the main reason why French has remained far more of a shared language in Luxembourg than in Belgium, and why the national unity of Luxembourg is less contested than that of Belgium.
What about knowledge of foreign languages? This is where the breakdown into three age groups becomes particularly instructive. In the 2012 data for the EU, the top trio of English, German and French is the same in the oldest and the youngest age groups – but the percentage gap between English and the other two languages grew dramatically from the oldest to the youngest. This increase included, however, the impact of the sharp rise (from 4% to 16% of the British population) in the number of immigrants who learned English in the United Kingdom.
In the 2024 data (where Croatia has replaced the UK), the top trio is the same for the oldest age group. For the youngest age group, German has been overtaken by French and Spanish, despite Germany’s success, as noted above, in getting its migrant populations to learn German.
However, the most spectacular development is the further progress of English. Most Europeans in the youngest age group now claim to master English as a non-native language. Clearly, Brexit did not halt the march towards a common lingua franca.
Is this a blessing or a curse? Both. It’s a blessing to the extent that it facilitates communication and cooperation across the EU, and it’s a curse to the extent that it accelerates the brain drain from the EU to Anglophone countries.
One surprising reflection of this quiet revolution is that there is one member
Most widely known language
% as a native language
% as a language known well or very well
state in which a language without an official status is in the process of becoming the country’s most popular language. That is Belgium.
In all age groups in the 2012 data, and all except the youngest one in the 2024 data, French is clearly the top language, followed by Dutch, English and German, Belgium’s third official language. But in the 2024 data, English comes on top in the youngest age group, while French is overtaken by Dutch, due to a decline in the learning of French in Flanders.
English is currently much less known in Belgium (49% of the total population) than in Sweden (76%) and the Netherlands (86%). Yet, among countries in which English is not an official language it is the linguistically divided Belgium, and not Sweden or the Netherlands, that is forecast to be
Whether in Belgium or at the EU level, the increasing dominance of English is not always welcomed – but it does not arouse the same passions as disputes over local languages in Spain, Belgium or the Balkans.
well or very well as a non-native language
Belgium: languages known well or very well
Over the years, Moscow has griped about the expansion of NATO into countries that it considered part of its protective belt, or ‘near abroad’. It should have been more concerned about English replacing Russian as the main language channel of foreign information and influence in these countries.
the first EU member state (after Ireland) where English will become the most widely known language.
This is already the case in the even more linguistically divided EU. According to the 2024 Eurobarometer data, more than 35.5% of the EU population claims to know English well or very well (only 2.5% as a native language), compared to 25% for German and 20% for French (mostly as a native language).
Whether in Belgium or at the EU level, the increasing dominance of English is not always welcomed – but it does not arouse the same passions as disputes over local languages in Spain, Belgium or the Balkans.
There is, however, one aspect of the rise of English that triggers higher emotions: the process, both top-down and bottom-up, by which English has replaced Russian in former Soviet republics and other eastern European countries.
This is again best documented by com -
paring percentages in the oldest age group from the 2012 database (respondents aged 32 or more in 1989, when the Soviet Union started falling apart) and the youngest age group from the 2024 database (not yet born in 1989).
The table below shows that Russian learning varied widely between these nine countries, but also that it fell spectacularly in all of them, from the oldest to the youngest generation — and in three countries, all the way down to zero. This went hand in hand with a sharp rise in the knowledge of English, with a percentage over 10 times higher for the youngest than for the oldest generation in most countries.
While weapons draw borders, languages stabilise them. The nearly universal congruence between the names of European countries and the names of their languages reflects this reality.
Ukraine’s 2017 and 2019 laws that banned the use of Russian as a language of instruction and encouraged the use of English in all schools – and Russia’s symmetric policies in Crimea and the Donbas – illustrate that governments are fully aware of this.
Over the years, Moscow has griped about the expansion of NATO into countries that it considered part of its protective belt, or ‘near abroad’. It should have been more concerned about English replacing Russian as the main language channel of foreign information and influence in these countries. Eastern Europe’s language revolution is partly unintended, but it is nonetheless a major component in the NATO-Russia hybrid war.
These shifts show how language and politics are interrelated. The Commission has compiled easily comparable, illuminating and openly accessible figures that reveal deep societal changes. Once presented in a user-friendly way, they can help feed better-informed public debates at both the national and EU levels.
Poperinge in West Flanders is Belgium’s hub for hops - and boasts a gastronomy scene to match. Near the front lines during World War I, it was well known to British soldiers, who nicknamed it ‘Pop’. Angela Dansby reports from a weekend away there
Nutty-tasting hop shoots are known as the white gold of Poperinge and are eaten as a delicacy in Belgium during their sixweek growing season.
Poles define Poperinge, symbolising both life and death from hops crops to First World War executions. Wooden poles support hop vines tied onto wires in nearby fields, growing up to seven metres high. A very different type of pole in the town hall courtyard was a pillory where war deserters were killed.
Poperinge had a bustling textile industry in the Middle Ages, but in 1322 the Count of Flanders forbade cloth-making outside of Ypres. This shifted Poperinge’s economy from textiles to hops (flowers or cones of the female hop plant used in bittering, flavouring and stabilising beer). Hops became big business, and several surviving mansions and former warehouses are a testament to this hoppy time. In recent decades, major breweries and restaurants have sprung up in the hop-growing area, known as Hoppeland.
One of a few Belgium towns unoccupied in during World War I, Poperinge was a refuge for British troops away from combat and a burial site for thousands of soldiers killed in this war. Good ol’ Pop, as British soldiers called it, retains remnants of their influence. Pop was not so lucky in World War II: the German army occupied the town and also left its mark.
Some 20 growers manage 160 hectares of hop fields in and near Poperinge, which includes the town centre and six villages. Together they account for 80% of Belgian hops production. Hop farms Belhop, Humulus and ‘t Hoppecruyt offer guided tours that end with a beer tasting. The tours are influenced by the seasons from the harvesting of hop shoots in the spring to cones in the fall. Belhop’s beer, Saison Lokaal, uses 100% local hops. Humulus in Vleteren, named after the scientific hop plant name Humulus lupulus , also offers hop shoot harvesting demos from early March to mid-April and hop
vine-weaving workshops from late-September to mid-November. Every Saturday afternoon in March, 't Hoppecruyt in Proven explains how hop shoots are grown.
Nutty-tasting hop shoots are known as the white gold of Poperinge and are eaten as a delicacy in Belgium during their six-week growing season. Several Poperinge restaurants serve them. Beer made with Belgian hops is denoted as such by four-colour 50% and gold 100% labels.
The multi-story Hop Museum presents the history of hops in Pop, including cultivation, harvesting and processing, with an optional audio guide. Around 2,500 Belgian beers are displayed in glass cabinets. The museum is free the first Sunday of each month, including guided tours (11 am and 2:30 pm) and other activities, such as a beer tasting or wagon ride through hop fields.
On March 1 and 2, visitors can taste beers made with local hops and crunchy hop shoots. A handful of days a year, Hop Museum Brewer Hans Vandepitte invites visitors to help him brew beer from milling and mashing to bottling.
Brewery St. Bernardus in the village of Watou 8km from Poperinge is surrounded by its own hops field, which can be viewed from its large rooftop brasserie called Bar Bernard. Its beers are made with 100% local hops. The brewery was founded in 1946 but renovated in 2023 into a high-tech facility. It offers a self-paced audiovisual experience covering the brewery’s history and brewing process, and a behind-the-scenes look at production and beer tasting. St. Bernardus also has an 11-room guesthouse and shop.
Sint-Sixtus Abbey in Westvleteren nine km away is known globally for its beer named after the village. Brewed by the abbey’s Trappist monks since 1839, its beer is often rated as the best ever made. The monks produce limited quantities of four types: Westvleteren 12, 8, 6 and Wit. These hard-to-find beers can be purchased
at Trappist Westvleteren, the Sint-Sixtus brewery, only via a lottery system with online registration.
Talbot House, dubbed Every Man’s Club, was set up in 1915 as a clubhouse for British soldiers and nurses of every rank. It was founded by army chaplains Neville Talbot and Philip ‘Tubby’ Clayton, whose life stories are told in a museum and film on site. Talbot House also has a tearoom, bed and breakfast, shop, beautiful garden (which sells rose plants), chapel, temporary exhibition space and concert hall, where ‘Happy Hoppers’ put on a revue show. The clubhouse was occupied by the Germans during World War II, but its contents were hidden by locals beforehand – many of which are displayed today.
In dark contrast, Poperinge’s town hall on the market square (Grote Markt) is a former prison for Allied soldiers who misbehaved or deserted World War I and its courtyard contains an execution pillory that commemorates at least four Commonwealth soldiers who were shot dead there during the war (25 British and two Canadians were executed by firing squad in Poperinge, though not all in this courtyard.) Four prison cells, dating from 1913, housed Allied soldiers for one or more nights due to drunkenness or staying out during prohibited hours. Deserters were sentenced to death and awaited their execution in these cells – two of which were restored for visiting. Some prisoners left their marks via graffiti. In the town park, a remarkable statue called Shot at Dawn, which looks as if it’s been toppled over, honours the unjustly executed soldiers.
The Chinese site Busseboom commemorates China’s wartime workers with two monuments, one commissioned by the Chinese Embassy in Brussels and the other by Poperinge’s authorities. They are connected by a footpath and surrounded by 13 topiary trees that represent 13 Chinese workers who died during a bombing of their camp in 1917.
The Exilium memorialises thousands of children evacuated from the Westhoek (southwest Flanders) region during World War I to lace-making schools in France or Switzerland. The shape resembles an auxiliary barrack with lace patterns on wire fencing.
Lijssenthoek Military Cemetery in the hamlet of the same name pays homage to 94 soldiers from the British Air Force – the largest concentration of ‘flyboys’ in a military cemetery – and what was once the largest evacuation hospital in the region from 1915 to 1920. A visitor centre tells about life in the hospital and the rebuilding of the cemetery. It includes hospital diaries, voices from the past, stories and portraits of those buried there, and an immersive experience called Forgotten
Track about trains in the area during the war. There is also a musical walk to the song ‘1000 Soldiers’ by Willem Vermandere. Since 2023, the cemetery has been one of 27 World War I memorial sites in Flanders Fields recognised as UNESCO World Heritage.
Poperinge has five military cemeteries: Gwalia, Communal, New Military, Old Military and Nine Elms British Cemetery. In the surrounding area besides Lijssenthoek, there are an additional seven military cemeteries, including Abeele Aerodrome in Abele, Bandaghem in Haringe, Mendinghem in Proven, Dozinghem in Vleteren, Grootebeek British Cemetery in Reningelst, and Reningelst New Military Cemetery and Churchyard. Commonwealth, French, German and US soldiers are buried in these cemeteries.
A former German Observation Tower overlooking Airfield Peselhoek built during World War II is set to open in May 2025 for tourism. On the outskirts of Poperinge, it will offer one of the highest lookout points in the area, including panoramic views of the town. It is belatedly opening in honour of the 80th anniversary of Poperinge’s liberation on September 6, 1944. A memorial plaque on the façade of the town hall recognises this liberation by the 1st Polish Armoured Division. At Provenseweg 47, a large plaque commemorates Flight Sergeant Stacey Jones, who crashed into a nearby house during a dogfight in 1942.
Poperinge and surrounding villages are idyllic for walking, hiking, biking and motorised modes of transportation. Twelve hiking routes from 5.5 to 12km are at ToerismePoperinge.be and via Visit Poperinge in the town hall, including a town walk and several through nature like the Couthof Walk and Sint-Sixtus Walk. The latter goes through the hops landscape plus woods containing roe deer.
Poperinge’s town hall on the market square (Grote Markt) is a former prison for Allied soldiers who misbehaved or deserted World War I and its courtyard contains an execution pillory that commemorates at least four Commonwealth soldiers who were shot dead there during the war.
There are also scooter routes, notably a 60km gastronomic tour that goes through the flat countryside of Poperinge and Vleteren.
Visit Poperinge also suggests several biking routes, including through Hoppeland, beer-related sights, military relics and hill country as well as for mountain biking. Hill country includes the Kemmelberg, the highest point in West Flanders. TourneeLocale. be also has routes from 33-46.5km, including Poperinge-Vleteren (33km), voted the “most beautiful cycling route in Belgium.” The Talbot House offers a ‘Meet Me Where the Poppies Blow’ bike/car route that traces the footsteps of former Chaplain Tubby Clayton, who searched the post-war area for Talbotousians. The route goes past 11 historical sites, each with a podcast via Spotify. Bike rentals are available from Poperinge companies Amfora, Fietsverhuur, Old Fiddler and Blue Bike.
An 87km Front Life car route explores the area between Poperinge and Heuvelland and tells of the Allied victory in the 1917 Mine Battle of Messines and the heinous Allied loss in the 1918 Battle of the Kemmelberg. The route is for sale at Visit Poperinge (Dutch only).
There are also scooter routes, notably a 60km gastronomic tour that goes through the flat countryside of Poperinge and Vleteren. A 110km World War I scooter route also includes Heuvelland, passing military cemeteries, memorials and museums. Vespas can be rented from Vespa-Ride in the village Proven and scooters from J-Fun in Watou and Stal ‘t Bardehof in Krombeke.
Half and full-day covered wagon rides are offered in the Poperinge countryside by 't Wulleminhof, De Poperingse Keikoppenroute (keikoppen means cobblestone heads, a medieval nickname for people from Poperinge), De Schipperkeshoeve and Huifkarren Au Nouveau Saint-Eloi.
Canoeing and kayaking are possible on the Yser River in nearby Roesbrugge on the French border (the village was a key tobacco and alcohol smuggling hub during the World Wars).
Finally, go-carting is possible at World-
karts for drivers of all levels. This outdoor adventure company also offers quad bikes, paintball and more.
The Lucien De Gheus Museum House is where the Belgian artist lived, which displays several of his artworks. While he was primarily a sculptor and ceramist, he also created stained glass windows, drawings and paintings shown on site. The property includes a beautiful garden and Honesty Bar. Individuals can visit from mid-May to mid-September without reservation and groups year-round with booked guided tours.
Sint-Bertinus Church on the market square is Poperinge’s oldest church, with its Gothic style dating to around 1420 (it was first built in the 9th century). It has notable carillon bells, sculptures and stained glass windows including hops-picking scenes. Opposite the church on the other side of the square is a brass sculpture of Eliane ‘Ginger’ Cossey, the most famous waitress of the Allied Western Front whose father owned the then officer’s pub behind it (La Poupée).
The 13th-century Sint-Jans Church is known for a miracle: a stillborn baby was brought back to life there after three days in 1479. An annual procession, Maria Ommegang, has commemorated the miracle on the first Sunday in July for the last 80 years.
Games of yesteryear, including feather bowling, uilebolling, billard aerobille, boltra, marbles, spillikins, shuffleboard and more, can be played via a Folk Sports Route in a dozen bars and eateries. Booking at volkssportroute.be must be done at least three weeks in advance for a minimum of 10 adults.
De Galge (Gallows) is a striking brick construction composed of three, connected minarets sitting in Couthofbos (Woods) in Watou. Oddly named, it never had anything to do with hanging criminals.
The World War I battleground of Ypres is 13km east of Poperinge. While called the Town of Cats, it is better known for its military history and outstanding World War I museum In Flanders Fields. The Last Post, a salute by buglers of the Last Post Association, occurs daily at 8pm under the Menin Gate Memorial to the Missing in honour of the Allied soldiers who died in the Ypres Salient during the war. Twelve of the 27 UNESCO World Heritage sites in Flanders pertaining to World War I are in Ypres, all of which are cemeteries except Menin Gate.
Arts Festival Watou: A two-month summertime event featuring visual arts and poetry in unusual spaces. In 2025, 10 paintings will be hidden in Poperinge municipality that finders get to keep!
Beer & Hop Festival: Every three years the third weekend of September. (next in 2026), the hops crop is honoured, even with a queen Brouw Workshop: Several times a year (March 8, April 12, Oct 11 and Nov 15), an allday brewing workshop at the Hop Museum including coffee, lunch and beer. Also available on demand by private groups.
Lekker Westhoek: Every three years the third weekend in Sept (next Sept 20-21, 2025), a two-day beer-tasting festival featuring brews made with Belgian hops from 20 breweries
Taste of Hops: Four days every three years (next March 22, 24, 27, 29 2025) featuring a 20km bike tour, stop at ‘T Hoppecruyt farm to see hop shoots harvesting, lunch including hop shoots and Westvleteren beer tasting at Sint-Sixtus Abbey
Winter in Poperinge: Annual festival from mid-Dec to early Jan including an indoor Christmas market, covered skating rink, carousel, Warm Winter Walk, Hoppeland Light Run and entertainment
Goeste: A tasty, cosy restaurant and tearoom on the market square featuring local products, including its own ice cream and hops syrup
Hartig: Focused on beef with a chef the son of a butcher, this upscale restaurant offers a monthly menu and weekly lunch
La Paix: An upscale restaurant on the town’s market square in a hotel of the same name featuring local ingredients and Belgian-inspired cuisine
Pegasus: In Hotel Recour, this gastronomic restaurant is known for fine cuisine and a romantic atmosphere
't Blauwers Huys: “Uncomplicated, authentic and timeless” per the owners, this bistro offers everything from local beers and bites up to a feast
Au Nouveau St.-Eloi: A café in Watou with 150+ beers, farmhouse platters, seasonal specials, Flemish folk games, terrace and horsedrawn wagon rides over the French border Bar Bernard: An indoor-outdoor brasserie at St. Bernardus Brewery in Watou overlooking a hops field that offers beer tastings and snacks
Café De Stadsschaal: A restored, authentic pub in front of the Hop Museum offering local beers and traditional Flemish games
Café Helleketel: Overlooking hops fields, this old establishment offers homemade Picon, farmhouse platters, traditional games and covered wagon rides upon request
La Poupée: Meaning “The Doll” in French, a stylish tearoom on Poperinge’s market square that used to be a World War I officer’s pub where the owner’s daughter “Ginger” was known for her hospitality
De Rentmeesterhoeve: A luxury bed and breakfast in the former castle of Reningelst with seven spacious, modern rooms – each including a fireplace – private parking and scooter rental
Hotel de la Paix: On Poperinge’s market square, this boutique hotel has five stylish rooms with great views (two have a rooftop terrace) and an upscale restaurant
Hotel Manoir Ogygia: A four-star, charming boutique hotel with 10 stylish rooms, including breakfast, a swimming pool, spa, restaurant and terrace
Hotel Recour: A four-star, luxury hotel with seven rooms, a gastronomic restaurant and garden near Poperinge’s market square
Talbot House: A quaint bed and breakfast within a historic soldier’s clubhouse offering seven rooms, English breakfast and free access to the on-site museum
Cœur au Chocolat: Chocolatier selling pralines, bars, confections, candy cakes and regional products
Goeste: Features regional food products from local beers to hop shoot liqueur as well as homemade ice cream located across from the restaurant of the same name
Stefan’s Pottery: Located in Roesbrugge-Haringe, a store in the workshop of potter Stefan Ferlin that sells vases, tea sets, bowls and more
St. Bernardus: Offers all beer produced by this acclaimed brewery as well as gift sets, glasses, clothing and other branded items
Weekly Friday Market: Every Friday from 8:30am to 12 noon on the market square featuring local vendors with farm-fresh products
Games of yesteryear, including feather bowling, uilebolling, billard aerobille, boltra, marbles, spillikins, shuffleboard and more, can be played via a Folk Sports Route in a dozen bars and eateries.
Designed in 1966 as Europe’s only entirely skiable, carfree resort, its founders envisioned a sanctuary that harmonised with the mountains rather than conquered them.
Perched at 1,800 meters in the heart of the French Alps, Avoriaz is not just a ski resort—it’s a vision brought to life. A place where the crunch of fresh snow replaces the hum of engines, where skiers glide through its pedestrian-only streets, and where the spirit of winter thrives in its purest form.
Avoriaz is the only 100% pedestrian resort where the streets are snow-covered, and all residences have ski-in/ski-out access. For those seeking an unforgettable alpine experience this season, Avoriaz delivers magic at every turn.
Avoriaz was ahead of its time before the world even caught up. Designed in 1966 as Europe’s only entirely skiable, car-free resort, its founders envisioned a sanctuary that harmonised with the mountains rather than conquered them.
Today, that commitment to sustainability remains unshaken. Unlike many expanding ski destinations, Avoriaz has kept its bed capacity steady at 18,900 while achieving record-breaking visitor numbers for multiple seasons. Rather than build, the resort optimizes—preserving its untouched surroundings and proving that growth doesn’t have to mean concrete.
Beyond its thoughtful planning, Avoriaz has taken bold environmental strides. The Flocon Vert certification—a prestigious label recognizing sustainability in mountain tourism— was awarded to the resort in 2021. Avoriaz now leads the way with initiatives like TakeAir, a pioneering carbon footprint analysis program covering all businesses within the resort, and the Pass AlpinExpress, which rewards travelers who choose trains over high-emission transport. Even the water from its aquatic center is recycled to irrigate the landscape, minimizing waste in ingenious ways.
Avoriaz sits at the center of the vast Portes du Soleil, one of the largest ski areas in the world, connecting 12 resorts across France and Switzerland. With 600 kilometers of ski runs, it offers a dreamlike variety of terrain, from pristine beginner slopes to exhilarating black diamonds. The resort is also a mecca for freeride skiers and snowboarders, with vast powder fields, legendary off-piste routes, and designated snowcross zones that blend adventure with safety.
One of its crown jewels? Le Mur Suisse—‘The Swiss Wall’—a staggering 37-degree incline of moguls, hailed as one of the steepest ski runs on the planet. For those who dare, it’s an adrenaline-fueled test of skill and endurance. Meanwhile, families and casual skiers will revel in the smooth blues and wide-open reds that weave through breathtaking alpine scenery.
While skiing is king, Avoriaz is far more than a winter sports haven. It’s a place where experiences define the stay.
Want to swap your skis for a fat bike adventure through snow-dusted forests? Or perhaps you’d prefer an ice dive beneath the frozen waters of Lac de Montriond?
For the romantics, horse-drawn sleigh rides meander through the village, while thrill-seekers can try avokart, ice climbing or ski joëring, gliding behind a galloping horse.
Avoriaz is unique in its transport system— cars are completely banned. Instead, visitors get around using horse-drawn sleighs, adding to the resort’s enchanting, old-world charm. Imagine stepping out of your chalet, hearing the distant jingle of sleigh bells, and being whisked away through snowy streets by a team of sturdy horses. This traditional mode of transport isn’t just a novelty; it’s part of what makes Avoriaz so special, ensuring the pristine landscape remains undisturbed and the air crisp and fresh.
And then there’s the après-ski—an art form in Avoriaz. At La Folie Douce, the mountains transform into an open-air festival where DJs, dancers, and performers ignite an electrifying party atmosphere. Prefer a cozy retreat? Le Chalet d’Avori-
az serves up hearty Savoyard feasts, perfect for warming up with melted cheese and local wines.
Unlike many resorts that chase modernity, Avoriaz embraces authenticity. Its distinctive wooden-clad buildings blend seamlessly into the landscape, changing hues with the seasons. Inspired by the organic shapes of the peaks surrounding it, the architecture feels as though it belongs to the mountains themselves.
Avoriaz also boasts an impressive lineup of events throughout the winter season. From “Rock On Snow”, which kicks off the season with live music and free ski and snowboard tests, to “Rock the Pistes”, an iconic festival that brings international artists to the slopes, there’s never a dull moment. Snowboard enthusiasts will also revel in the “Mystery Series”, a unique banked slalom competition that transforms Avoriaz’s architecture into a dynamic playground for board culture.
Whether you’re a seasoned skier chasing powder, a family searching for a storybook winter getaway, or a traveler longing for an escape where nature and adventure collide, Avoriaz is calling. This isn’t just a ski trip—it’s an alpine experience unlike any other. So, as the snow begins to fall, will you answer the call?
2024/2025 ski season in Avoriaz: 13 December 2024 – 21 April 2025
For more information about the resort and its facilities: www.avoriaz.com/en
Avoriaz is unique in its transport system—cars are completely banned. Instead, visitors get around using horse-drawn sleighs, adding to the resort’s enchanting, oldworld charm.
From Boondael in the leafiest edge of Ixelles, tram 25 winds its way past the two august Brussels universities, under Montgomery, through the intractable Meiser junction and finally to rest at Place Rogier. Hugh Dow ponders the changing scenery on the line into the city
Only when approaching the main building did I notice his statue – and very handsome he looks in his frock coat, I must say!
Tram 25 starts its northbound journey to Rogier at, or just off, the railway bridge over Boondael Station. The station suits railway commuters coming in from the south of the country who wish to join the Brussels transport network. As a regular on both railway and tram I can attest that the station is both gorgeous and a lost opportunity. Situated in a cutting beneath the bridge it is a haven of jangly tree–growth and tweeting bird life. (The train traffic is not that intense) All this is spoiled somewhat by brutalist, concrete shelters and unfriendly stairways. The station is scheduled for a revamp. Let us hope for better things.
The Boondael stop is but a short walk from the Bois de la Cambre/Kamerenbos. This is a finger of parkland of about a square kilometre which points its way into Brussels proper – well, to the top of Louise – from the extensive Sonian Forest (Forêt de Soignes/Zoniënwoud). This forest once stretched to the Ardennes and thence to Poland. If you haven’t lain on the grass sloping down to the lake of a summers’ evening, idly watching the skateboarders, courting couples, daisy-chain makers, pack-forming dogs, blissful toddlers, beer-imbibers at the nearby buvette, hyperactive aquatic birds, an ice-cream van queue, and earnest, iPhone be-strapped runners then you have missed an authentic Brussels experience.
The 25 neatly links up two of Brussels’ major universities. Typically split on linguistic lines, but more amicably than some institutions, the eponymous educational establishments are a few tram stops apart. At stop ULB (Université Libre de Bruxelles) you can head west through the campus to inspect two or three fine university buildings. I have always had an affection for the main administrative building on Avenue Franklin Roosevelt: the architecture could best be described as neo-Flemish/Gothic/Oxbridge-aspirant. Passing by at night, its lights all blaze, it is a fine sight. The clock tower is gorgeous.
The French-speaking University as it is now constituted is the result of, not one but two, major fault lines in Belgian political and social life. First was the Catholic Liberal axis. Liberal, it should be explained, means almost the opposite of the American English usage, and refers to fierce defenders of liberty above all else.
To oversimplify, when the new kingdom of Belgium was created, the Catholic church alarmed the liberals by founding, and funding, a new university in Mechelen. The liberals, rightly or wrongly, saw this as an assault upon the, well, liberal and French-inspired anti-clerical values of the new state. So this drove one PierreThéodore Verhaegen to take matters into his own hands and to found a sternly ‘liberal’ university in the then university-free Brussels. It thrived without help from the state. Only when approaching the main building did I notice his statue – and very handsome he looks in his frock coat, I must say!
It would be tedious to recount the history of this august establishment beyond recording that the ULN football team won a bronze medal in the 1900 Paris Olympics (although, Wikipedia coyly notes, not all the players were students). But then in the late 1960s things get interesting. Campuses are aflame around the world and Leuven, Belgium’s oldest and most prestigious university, splits rancorously along linguistic lines and Louvain-la-Neuve is founded.
ULB managed things rather better. It had been running courses in both languages throughout the 20th century. A new university was set up three of the 25’s tram stops away with the same name in Dutch – Universiteit Vrij van Brussel (VUB). It is housed in the old gunnery range, the tram stop is called VUB, the campus is agreeably hugger-mugger and easy to get lost in, relations with ULB are good (many lecture at both estab-
lishments), they both share a secular dedication to free inquiry and have created between them, literally, the small but buzzy, boozy, bar-y area around the Ixelles cemetery, and VUB is noted for its post 1960s democratic principles and whacky societies. One is called Society for Weird and Mad People (or SWAMP) and is dedicated to offbeat games. Neither establishment uses their English name – Free University of Brussels – as that would be ambiguous.
In between the two uni-stops is Buyl. It is where the eponymous west-bound Avenue Adolphe Buyl crosses the General Jacques Boulevard. It is of some complexity as two tram lines meet there and a major tram depot is 100 metres further down the hill. To add to this convolution, the tram stop has four different locations along the two arteries, all some distance from the crossing itself. I have thought of standing there and trying to work out the light sequences. But that would turn me into an umarell; and that I will not countenance.
The four corners of the crossroads are occupied severally by a small supermarket, a large pharmacy, a café and, last but not least, on the north-west corner, my favourite chipper. It is large as frituurs go, clean, Turkish-run, and the clientele a mixture of students (of course), workies in hi-viz trousers (the orange ones more dapper than the yellow for some reason) and a sprinkling of young mums with babies in buggies. All of this just to situate and contextualise my best cheap lunch in this part of town. I am treated like a lord and I have yet to finish a small portion of their delicious chips, slathered in ketchup, before my satiety bids me stop. With a can of something sugary I’m pushed to top €5! Incidentally my best high-price lunch is 400 metres further down the road, facing the Ixelles ponds, name of The Canterbury.
From the VUB the tram leaves the campus, plunges underground and stops at the vast (by Brussels’ standards) interchange named
after Field Marshal Montgomery whose statue above, sporting a beret the size of a golf umbrella, looks masterfully down Avenue de Tervuren. As well he might, because that was the way his troops marched into Brussels to liberate it from the Nazis. The delirious citizens were further surprised to find a company of their compatriots among the saviours. Nice touch, Monty!
I feel a slight party-pooper if I record that the great man was not actually there. His troops had pretty much run the 120km from Douai in little over a day. He followed in a jeep a couple of days later to be received by the mayor as an all-conquering hero. Which, of course, is exactly what he was.
This brings me to Micheline who was then, I reckon, about eight years old. She was standing in front of the cheering crowd somewhere when a tank went rumbling past. A Tommy (her word) swept her up and perched her on top of the turret. She spent the entire glorious day riding around, waving at the crowd, feasting on the Tommy chocolate bars, recognising envious chums, bursting with pride and happiness, and obliviously driving her parents demented with worry. She is now a venerable dowager but when she told us the story in my English class she was that little girl again.
If you stand to the south of the Montgomery roundabout, by that quirky, three-metre high, inaccessible tennis umpire’s seat (no, really) and look south you’ll spot the imposing Victorian-gothic/Romanesque Saint Michel College. This is a Jesuit boarding school, and the home of the Society of Bollandists, which collects religious books on saints. It is also worth recording that astrophysicist Georges Lemaître studied here. And he put his education to good use when, as a Catholic priest and theoretical physicist, he was the first to fully comprehend and explain the Big Bang in 1926. He thus changed the way we understand the universe. Then, as now, scientific papers had to be published
She spent the entire glorious day riding around, waving at the crowd, feasting on the Tommy chocolate bars, recognising envious chums, bursting with pride and happiness, and obliviously driving her parents demented with worry.
Both words imply a hill where vines grow and evoke images of the sun-soaked midi of France. Well, no sign of that now, on a wet, snowy day. The longago medieval vineyards –which flanked the modest, indeed un-hilly, street which crosses the tram tracks – seem far enough away in time and temperature, heaven knows.
in English to be widely read. So it sunk without a trace. Such was his (very Belgian) modesty and low profile that only recently have there been moves to rename the so-called Hubble constant – the rate of expansion of the universe – the Hubble-Lemaitre constant (‘constant’ is somewhat of a misnomer as it is subject to continuing recalculations: I am tempted to rename it the Lemaitre-Hubble Variable!).
A shout out for the metro here. It can whisk you into the middle of town in no time flat from Montgomery. Now that the municipal aldermen have pretty much banned the car from central Brussels don’t even think about driving there for a night on the razzle. Just hop on a metro and get off at De Brouckère and stroll away to your heart’s content. Cafés, street food, restaurantsposh and humble cheap and pricey and of every conceivable ethnicity - theatres, cinemas, a beer museum, musicians, jugglers, tumblers, music venues, a puppet theatre, the Grand Place: all human life and everything a good city centre should be is a short, safe, cheap ride away.
The tram trundles - no other word will do –over the points at Meiser, to which I owe a huge debt. All will be explained. A vast interchange comprising a large roundabout with a dizzying seven roads feeding in and out, it is a nightmare in the rush hour. It has no less than three trams crossing it in various directions (7, 25, 62) and countless buses heading from the North Station to points east in Flanders. It also has, praise be, a 24-hour dentist –when stitches came loose in my mouth at 3am and I was bleeding to the point that I feared for my life – the only one in Belgium, or so I’m told. So it may be a total traffic snarl-up and justifiably nicknamed Place Misère, but I won’t hear a single word against it!
From Meiser, the 25 heads along the handsome Avenue Rogier. The intriguingly named
tram stop Coteaux/Wijnheuvel lies in the grungier purlieus of Schaerbeek. Both words imply a hill where vines grow and evoke images of the sun-soaked midi of France. Well, no sign of that now, on a wet, snowy day. The long-ago medieval vineyards – which flanked the modest, indeed un-hilly, street which crosses the tram tracks – seem far enough away in time and temperature, heaven knows.
Rue des Coteaux 41, an otherwise humble abode, bears a double distinction, however; one happy: one grim. It used to be the small Albert Beirnaert publishing house where the early works of Georges Simenon, creator of the Parisian cop Maigret, were edited. And incidentally if you want to start reading in French, but are timorous, Simenon is clear, simple and writes great stories. He doesn’t use adverbs! Albert Beirnaert was also a resistance fighter who was swept up and transported to harsh slave camp Dora-Mittelbau where V2 rockets were built. There he died from ill-treatment.
Give yourself an offbeat treat. Get off at Place Liedts and head north down Brabant Street. Take your time; go slowly! Actually, you won’t have much choice such are the crowds. Check out the shops selling glittery Arab wedding dresses, djellebas, farwas (both Moroccan jackets), babouches (those insubstantial leather slippers that old Moroccan men bravely wear throughout our wet and frigid winter), engage the touts outside the alcohol-free restaurants who are, I swear, polite and unaggressive (I got a traditional Arab heart-patting when I refused the blandishments of one on the grounds I had just eaten), buy a bed or a jazzy shirt if you want but be prepared to bargain, and watch the crossover frituurs pile the chips so high they put even the Belgians to shame! I used to walk it once a week to a teaching gig and I loved that stroll! I would not recommend descending at
the Thomas tram stop. You are next to a dark and gloomy rail tunnel and a 70 metre walk past homeless people bedded there to avoid the rain. Then if you veer right you will end up in Brussels’ seedy red-light district in Rue Aarschotlaan. Not for the faint-hearted, although the system is defended by some as keeping all the disorder in one place. The girls in the windows are trafficked and drugs and violence are an issue; but the commuters pouring out of North Station seem to take it in their stride.
A footnote to all this seediness. Aarschot used to be called Cologne/Koln but that was dropped, understandably enough, after the Second World War. However, the north end of the street, where houses of ill-repute there are none, has readopted the old name to distinguish itself. Mutatis mutandis!
The tram follows the western side of the railway embankment until it plunges underground (again) at the North Station. Although you get no impression of going down deep if you get off there you have a very long ride on two massive escalators up to the train station. This is partly because the station stands about four metres above ground level; but still the effect is startling.
Few visit North station for pleasure. The commercial part is oddly gloomy but take a look at the ticket office area. It is a modernist architectural joy with light and air and delicate yellow and green tiles everywhere. And if you choose to travel to points east, oh Berlin, Prague or Copenhagen say, this is the place to be. Only the London trains do not stop here.
The 25 finally comes to rest at Rogier and pulls up at buffers like a railway. The underground shopping area is of limited interest
and size but it could teach North Station a thing or two about decent lighting. Some 50 odd years ago I sat in an accountant’s office overlooking the eponymous square. The bean counter behind the desk expressed wonder at the continual rejigging of the square of which he had a bird’s eye view. “A flowerpot here, a bench there, and then they move it again.” In the intervening half-century, the skyscraper on the north side has been knocked down and rebuilt, a see-through umbrella has been erected so that metro travellers beneath can see the sky, and now the former Sheraton hotel has been gutted and repurposed as the Cardo and Thon hotels. It’s exhausting. I swear on Judgement Day they’ll still be at it.
However, on the east side all is architectural serenity and stylistic joy. Then and now it comprises two hotels, one Art Nouveau and the other Art Deco. I have visited the public areas of both and whether I can distinguish the two styles is moot. But they are beautiful and very much worth the price of a cup of their coffee.
If you continue east, round the hotels and across Rue Ginestestraat you will come to that haven of peace and greenery Brussels Botanical Gardens. Set out in 1829 and, I read, in English, French and Italian styles it is a refuge for the lunch time sandwich eater or the baby buggy stroller. This peace is for me merely accentuated by the proximity of the Brussels ring to the east and the A20 to the south. You never escape the B-flat hum of the scurrying traffic, but the contrast makes the park even more restful.
And should you wish to walk down from Schaerbeek Port to Rogier do not even think about walking along the pavement of the Botanical Gardens Boulevard. Do yourself a favour and walk through the park. Better for your lungs, your heart, your soul!
If you continue east, round the hotels and across Rue Ginestestraat you will come to that haven of peace and greenery Brussels Botanical Gardens. Set out in 1829 and, I read, in English, French and Italian styles it is a refuge for the lunch time sandwich eater or the baby buggy stroller.
Creating a beer that reflected the Ardennes wilderness was not just a flight of fancy. It was in his blood.
Philippe Minne grew up in the Ardennes, a region of extensive forests, rough terrain, and rolling hills. Lying primarily in the southeast of Wallonia, it is a dynamic and constantly changing ecosystem that boasts one of the highest forest growth rates in Europe. The Ardennes facilitated Wallonia’s great industrial period, and its strategic position made it a centuries-long battleground for European powers.
As a child, Minne loved hearing mythical tales about the Ardennes. One story was about Arduinna, a goddess often represented as a huntress who rode a wild boar around the ancient forest. Another was about Trouffette, a mischievous elf who also rode a boar. Boars once flourished here, and they are still revered by local people for their symbolism of mystical forest life.
Philippe Minne was a civil engineer and electro-mechanic who made machinery for
Walloon engineer Philippe Minne made a beer to reflect the wild nature of the mythical Ardennes forests, hoping it would help him grow his brewery as tall as the trees of his home region, as Breandán Kearney found out Breandán Kearney
steel plants. In his spare time, he enjoyed building things, especially old rally cars for racing events in the forests. But he longed for more connection with the wildness of the Ardennes.
In 2008, Minne and his wife, Catherine Minne-Vanderwauwen, opened Brasserie de Bastogne as a side project, brewing on the weekends in a warehouse on a dairy farm in Vaux-sur-Sûre, 15km southwest of Bastogne. Their Trouffette range of classic Belgian ales showcased the folk character atop a boar, holding it by its razorback mane, her elvish ears poking out from a black, pointy hat as she galloped in full flight.
In its first year, Bastogne produced just 90 hectolitres of beer. The following year, demand increased and production doubled to 180hl. In 2011, it reached 400hl; in 2012, 570hl. Minne was ambitious. He hung up a bar chart in the warehouse detailing the annual production yield each year so he could
see his progress – as if reminded by the forests of the Ardennes that mighty oaks from small acorns grow.
Phillippe Minne and Catherine Vanderwauwen met through a mutual friend when they were at university. In 1995, they went to the Pukkelpop music festival in Hasselt to see a joint performance by Canadian singer-songwriter Neil Young and American rock band Pearl Jam. Somewhere between Young’s hit Big Green Country and his encore that night, Rockin’ in the Free World, they became a couple. “That was not our first meeting,” says Minne-Vanderwauwen of the encounter that led to their marriage. “But that’s when the flash happened.”
Minne-Vanderwauwen was a city girl from Brussels, but she says that moving to the Ardennes with Minne was one of the best things she has ever done. In Brussels, the couple had ridden the Metro, lived in small spaces, and breathed city air. But in the Ardennes, they were surrounded by nature and would take long walks to talk about their plans for the future.
In the early 2000s, they discovered a new wave of Belgian breweries, such as Brouwerij De Ranke and Brasserie de la Senne, and began attending beer festivals. “We really felt like we belonged with this movement and with the people,” says Minne-Vanderwauwen.
Minne started brewing in their garage. When his father, Paul Minne – a milkman and insurance broker – learned of his son’s new pastime, he told stories about their family’s brewing heritage. Philippe’s grandfather, Jules Minne, had owned his own brewery nearby: Brasserie de Grand Leez. His great-grandfather, Joseph Minne, had brewed first in Brasserie Yproise in Ypres and then at Brasserie Val Saint Lambert in Seraing, just outside Liège.
Minne realised there was some part of his identity missing. Creating a beer that reflected the Ardennes wilderness was not just a flight of fancy. It was in his blood.
In October 2012, Minne hired Marc Cleeremans to help him create a bière sauvage, a wild beer to honour the Ardennes. Cleeremans was a young brewing engineer with a master’s degree in agricultural science who had just completed a period of research on the brewing yeast at Brasserie de Rochefort. To endow their new beer with an unpredictable, untamed, and evolving character, Minne opted for a mixed fermentation. He would use both a top-fermenting Saccharomyces ale yeast and a wild yeast: Brettanomyces.
He secured the ale yeast from another nearby Trappist brewery – Brasserie d’Orval – which the Cistercian monks gave him at no cost. Minne and Cleeremans then sourced the wild Brettanomyces yeast from the skins of apples in
an orchard 300 metres from the brewery. Cleeremans tested 20-litre batches to ascertain the flavour profile of the strain they had captured and then sent it to the Institut Meurice in Brussels for storage and propagation.
They brewed the beer with Pilsner malt for a soft, grainy character and Pale Ale malt for biscuit notes, hopping with Hallertau, Belgian Cascade, and Warrior. Orval’s ale yeast gave the beer a subdued fruitiness, with notes of peaches, lemons, and white grapes. The Brettanomyces was added pre-packaging, for refermentation in the bottle. In 2014, they released the beer as Ardenne Saison. On the label, three heavily tusked boars ran wild.
By 2017, Brasserie Bastogne’s fast-paced growth was a problem. The brewery was cramped and stuck in an agricultural zone that offered no possibility of expansion. It had reached a production volume of 1,500hl per year. Minne had a choice: allow a lack of momentum to kill their project or relocate the brewery and continue to grow. The latter option would require funds for a bigger facility. And they’d have to find a suitable location: Minne didn’t want to leave the Ardennes.
In 2018, Brasserie de Bastogne moved to an industrial estate in Baillonville, deeper into the heart of the Ardennes. With the help of a loan from the Société Wallonne du Crédit Social, they created a new home for their Ardennes beer. Cleeremans headed up production and Minne quit his engineering day job to oversee operations full-time. The brewery also changed its name to Brasserie Minne.
In addition to its Trouffette and Ardennes ranges, Brasserie Minne has added an Ardenne Wood range, named for both the forests surrounding it and the fact that each of these new beers was aged in oak barrels. Their labels depict Ardennes wildlife: deer, foxes, owls, woodpeckers, magpies, beavers, pheasants, and wolves.
In 2023, the Brasserie Minne team produced 3,500hl at their new brewery. Minne says they could brew up to 10,000hl at their new facility with some investments. And they have no plans to stop growing.
Philippe and Catherine still go for walks in the Ardennes forests today. They still listen to Neil Young together, including Rockin’ in the Free World, a song about freedom, autonomy and personal wildness. Minne is working on the restoration of an old rally car, which is wedged into the brewery storage space.
Their new building is a mighty oak compared to the acorn of those early days. The architecture of the building is strange but intentional. It was designed to recreate a particular shape: the silhouette of a wild Ardennes boar.
This is excerpted from the book Hidden Beers of Belgium by Breandán Kearney and Ashley Joanna, available to buy now in all good bookstores and online retailers.
Their labels depict Ardennes wildlife: deer, foxes, owls, woodpeckers, magpies, beavers, pheasants, and wolves.
To celebrate the 50th anniversary of the establishment of diplomatic relations between China and the EU, the Mission of China to the European Union is launching a photography, cartoon, and short video creative contest under the theme of “Reviewing the 50-Year Journey of China-EU Relations, Joining Hands to Embrace a Shared Future.”
Over the past 50 years, what unforgettable stories, beautiful memories, and precious moments related to China do you or your family and friends have? What are your understandings and insights into the growth of China-EU relations, and what are your expectations and blessings for China-EU relations in the future? We sincerely invite you to capture the stories, ideas, and blessings of you
and your family through lens or paintbrushes, to demonstrate the passion and creativity of youngsters, so as to play the symphony of China-EU friendship.
Participants will have the chance to win good prizes, certificates stamped by the Mission of China to the European Union, and even an unforgettable trip to China!
For detailed information about the competition, please visit our website: http://eu.china-mission.gov.cn/eng/ gdxw/202501/t20250117_11536895.htm
Scan the QR codes below of the official accounts of the Chinese Mission to the EU to follow the latest development and progress of the contest.
What are the most delicious foods, refreshing drinks, coolest cafés and intriguing restaurants in Brussels now? Here are some that recently caught the eye of our food and drink expert Hughes Belin
Have you ever eaten at a feminist restaurant?
When Georgia Brooks arrived in Brussels from London in 2015, she was in her late twenties and immediately noticed something was missing. There were no women’s clubs – places where women with the same interests, be they professional or cultural, could enjoy being part of the same community.
She decided to set up the first women’s club in the capital of Europe. Inspired by the nine muses of Greek mythology, the club aimed to further gender equality through seminars, lectures, exhibitions and events.
Brooks and her husband bought the Barbanera, an Italian restaurant in the heart of the European Quarter, in late 2019, and spent most of the pandemic lockdowns refurbishing the building and organising her new business, which she called The Nine.
Today, The Nine offers its members a cosy coworking space and a vibrant networking environment, including a restaurant and a bar, both now open to the public on weekdays. Members, who pay €715-€990/year, enjoy a 10% discount on the menu and lunch deals can be delivered directly to their table.
The Nine’s menu is dedicated to goddesses from around the world, and the kitchen sources its food from female-led suppliers as much as possible. Guests can choose between two starters, four mains and two desserts (two-course menu at €39 and three-course menu at €47) for a divine business lunch that foregoes sophistication but excels in flavour and creativity.
The (obviously female) chef Maria Akram knows her stuff: our grilled swordfish was cooked to perfection, and deliciously juicy. The Chicomecoatl’s chocolate mousse, named after the Aztec goddess of sustenance, is inspired by the English chef Heston Blumenthal and is a must-try. The wine list is small but can satisfy any connoisseur, including the Moscato Giallo produced by Elisa Dilavanzo from Maeli in Veneto, Italy.
The dining experience takes place in a cosy indoor salon (30 seats) with a view of the bar where they serve amazing cocktails. When the weather’s nice, try the garden terrace.
The Nine is feminine: obvious to women, and forever undefinable for men!
The Nine 69, Rue Archimède 1000 Brussels. Open 12am-2.30pm and 5-10pm.
Escavèche de Chimay is thought to date back to the Spanish occupation of Belgium under Charles Quint in the 16 th century and has held an EU protected geographical indication (PGI) since February 2021. It is a coldserved cooked fish coated in a jellied, vinegar onion sauce, a description that might sound off-putting. The fish melts in your mouth along with the creamy or gelatinous sauce, and goes great with fries, in a sandwich or with bread and a salad. It also pairs naturally with a Trappist beer for a refreshing bite.
Though it was originally made with river fish, saltwater fish also became popular after the Second World War, especially dogfish from the North Sea, with an eel-like texture and taste.
Escavèche de Chimay is closely tied to Wallonia’s metal-working industry, which created many artificial lakes and ponds. When the industry declined at the end of the 19 th century and almost completely after the Second World War, the ponds were converted into fishing areas. These bodies of water were well-stocked with fish, so much so that the owners found themselves with more than they could eat.
Chimay locals living between the Sambre and the Meuse rivers then developed their own way of preserving the fish. They placed cooked fish in pots, over which they poured a hot starchy vinegar sauce with onions, spice, seasoning and, occasionally, lemon. While still liquid, the sauce coats the entire fish, forcing out any air bubbles, and thus preventing mould from forming. Immediately afterwards, the pot is hermetically sealed, and the preparation is chilled so the sauce sets.
Today, producers of Escavèche de Chimay are still based in the vicinity of the old forges in the southwest of the country (Hainaut region). Three manufacturers claim the IGP for their products: Escavèche du Val d’Oise (property of the Chimay group, offers a variant with a local trout and one with tomato sauce), Escavir and Fagnes & Saveurs.
It was niche 15 years ago, but today more and more wine connoisseurs – myself included – are drinking natural or ‘clean’ wines, which do not include any added chemicals. There are many reasons to do so, but health (and preventing a hangover the next morning) is at the top of the list.
Natural wine tastes like fermented grape juice. The palate of a connoisseur should be revised for richness and complexity: unless it is deficient, natural wine can be moreish and reveal a whole array of beautiful flavours.
For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, fear not! Brussels hosts many natural wine experts ready to help you dive into the industry. Titulus, in the quiet neighbourhood between place Saint Boniface and the Rue du Trône, is one such pioneer, embracing natural wines back in 2011. Their trifold business model (import, retail and bar) got them through the pandemic when their main professional outlets were closed but their local customers had nothing else to do but drink – including, once again, myself.
Titulus guests can peruse the shop (the ‘cellar’) with its 600 products on colourful shelves, or have a drink or bite at the bar, complete with a nano-kitchen and a cosy atmosphere. Before the arrival of chef Lyla Bangels, you could only satisfy your hunger with spreads and artisanal cold cuts from La Corbeille, as well as cheeses from La Fruitière, all with bread from Boulengier.
Bangels expanded this excellent selection with small, tasty dishes dedicated to one main ingredient: a vegetable, a meat or a fish – except for Thursdays, when only seafood is served. She sources all her products from small producers, as local as possible.
Bangels’ meals are best accompanied with natural wines by the glass selected to pair with the dishes, but you can also choose a bottle from the shelves, with a corkage of €12. Tip: don’t hesitate to opt for a bottle, this kind of wine doesn’t give hangovers!
Ever the pioneer, Titulus has also embraced sake, and the whole team is certified as sake sommeliers. Not only do they propose 100 sakes, but they have a unique collaboration with a French sakagura (sake brewery), Les Larmes du Levant.
In addition to wine, sake and local craft beer, Titulus also offers ciders from Normandy and the Basque country. As for those who have committed to dry January or the Belgian Tournée Minérale, Titulus has a wide range of great non-alcoholic beverages, including a selection of zero-alcohol beer.
Titulus 167a, Chaussée de Wavre 1050 Ixelles. Open Tue-Sat 5-11pm (shop from 12am-11pm).
If you missed out on dry January, an eightyear-old Belgian tradition called Tournée minérale, which invites you to skip out on alcohol for the month of February, could be the perfect solution.
Perhaps surprisingly (given the prominence of Belgian beer), the alcohol-free beverage industry in Europe’s capital is wildly creative, especially when good food is concerned.
SØBR, for example, offers alternatives to alcoholic drinks that do much more quench thirst. They’re not a substitute for beer, wine or spirit, but rather plant-based soft drinks made from lactic fermentation that easily pairs with food. Officially launched last summer, SØBR is a startup born from two years of research and development by Simon Martens and Milan van Nuffel, two former bioengineering students who specialised in industrial fermentation.
Martens and van Nuffel realised that fermentation with micro-organisms converting basic ingredients into flavour components such as acids, aromatics, esters and phenols, had a high potential for food pairing.
They focused on non-alcoholic (read: lactic) fermentation and were inspired by the Mexican tepache (fermented pineapple skin), since pineapple juice contains a lot of nutrients, citric acid and mouthful thickness, hence an ideal base for fermenting. For flavour, they added plant infusions. The drinks also contain an unusual ingredient: Hericium erinaceus – lion’s mane, a mushroom – to help protect the brain and “to wake up with a clear head instead of a hangover.”
The co-founders received a Flemish regional subsidy for innovation to upscale their private kitchen to a professional workshop, and after two years of work, their delicious drinks were ready.
The red one, flavoured with hibiscus and holy basil, is fruity and acidic and pairs naturally with meat dishes, cheese and desserts. The beige one contains cedar wood, juniper berries, black pepper and chilli pepper. It pairs with Asian dishes, blending with umami flavours, soy sauce, fish dishes such as ceviche and even a steak, thanks to its pepper and woody flavour. The third flavour, spumante, is made with real grapes from Zwenaarde hand-picked by the founders, with a hint of yuzu peach plum extracts. It contains low sugar and is very fresh, making it perfect for an aperitive or paired with oysters or light fish dishes.
SØBR drinks can already be found at several Michelin-starred restaurants: Sensum (Ghent), Table d'Amis (Kortrijk), Franq (Antwerp), Hofke van Bazel (near Antwerp), or a Goods and Hop! delicatessen shop in Brussels.
Since opening its doors in 1988, La Quincaillerie has become a beloved destination in the heart of Brussels.
Since opening its doors in 1988, La Quincaillerie has become a beloved destination in the heart of Brussels. Located in a former hardware store on Rue du Page, the brasserie is housed in a beautiful building designed by a student of the renowned architect Victor Horta. The space blends the charm of its industrial roots with the elegance of Art Nouveau details, creating a unique atmosphere for guests to enjoy.
At La Quincaillerie, you can indulge in fresh seafood platters and oysters, all within a setting that transports you to another time while embracing the vibrancy of modern dining.
Stepping into La Quincaillerie, you immediately sense the rich history of the building. The industrial charm of the space is highlighted by castiron staircases, soaring ceilings, and beautifully preserved wooden elements. The Art Nouveau details, including ornate lighting and intricate ceiling moldings, further enhance the nostalgic yet sophisticated atmosphere. The vintage cabinets, timeless furnishings and architectural
features create a seamless blend of the old and the new. Just like Brasserie Pakhuis in Ghent, La Quincaillerie offers a dining experience steeped in history and modern culinary excellence, making each visit truly memorable.
At La Quincaillerie, seafood takes center stage. The menu offers a wide selection of fresh oysters, shellfish, and seafood platters, each served on a bed of ice. The brasserie takes great pride in sourcing only the finest seafood, much of it sustainably harvested to ensure taste, quality and responsibility. The selection varies with the seasons, reflecting the ever-changing bounty of the sea. Signature dishes include delicately prepared lobster, refined tartares, and expertly grilled fish, all crafted with the utmost attention to detail.
La Quincaillerie’s commitment to quality extends beyond the ocean, with a strong partnership with Ferme 'Le Devant', a local farm known for its premium produce. Bresse chicken, guin-
ea fowl and Bayeux pigs are just a few examples of the farm’s carefully raised animals, each one nurtured with respect for the environment. These fresh, high-quality ingredients make their way to the La Quincaillerie menu, where they shine in expertly crafted dishes.
The farm-to-table philosophy is integral to the brasserie, ensuring guests enjoy authentic, local flavors. This dedication to sustainability and authenticity is what makes each dish so special.
La Quincaillerie has firmly established itself as a cornerstone of Brussels' culinary land-
scape. With its exceptional seafood, strong farm partnerships and historic ambiance, it has become a must-visit destination for locals and visitors alike. Since 1988, the brasserie has thrived, offering a perfect blend of great food, rich history and craftsmanship. Its ability to evolve while staying true to its heritage is what keeps guests coming back time and again. La Quincaillerie is an enduring landmark that continues to draw in guests with its unique combination of past and present.
La Quincaillerie is a true testament to Brussels' culinary heritage, offering guests the opportunity to savor the best of both land and sea in a setting that celebrates history, quality and sustainability.
Stepping into La Quincaillerie, you immediately sense the rich history of the building. The industrial charm of the space is highlighted by cast-iron staircases, soaring ceilings, and beautifully preserved wooden elements.
March 15-30, 2025
Events across Brussels
The Brussels Art Nouveau & Art Deco (BANAD) festival, running over a fortnight, offers rare access to the capital’s Art Nouveau and Art Deco gems through guided outdoor tours, concerts, lectures, events and activities. This year’s edition coincides with Art Deco Year 2025, the Brussels region’s special celebration of the centenary of the art form. For details about other dedicated Art Deco events related to this, at venues like the Halles Saint-Géry, Villa Empain and the Van Buuren Museum, see pages 58-59.
Red Star Line Museum, Montevideostraat 3, 2000 Antwerp
Until May 4, 2025
Antwerp’s Chinese community plays a vital role in the city's local business and cultural life, and even boasts its own Chinatown. This exhibition highlights this community and, tells the story of three Chinese pioneer families and their restaurants.
Bozar Center for Fine Arts, Rue Ravenstein 23, 1000 Brussels
Until August 10, 2025
Have Black and African artists been poorly recognised in the past? Inspired by director Ava DuVernay's television series When They See Us, this Bozar exhibition explores Black self-representation through some 150 works by 120 artists.
Kurt Karlsson selects the best current and upcoming events and exhibitions
Bozar Center for Fine Arts, Rue Ravenstein 23, 1000 Brussels
March 14 to June 29, 2025
Eastern Europe has a rich and complex history of migration, with diasporas, minorities and multiple identities all playing a role in a region that was long considered to be culturally homogenous. In an exhibition tied to Poland’s presidency of the European Union, these paintings, sculptures, videos, films, installations and textiles tell the stories of ‘familiar strangers’ from the Roma minority to the Vietnamese diaspora.
Until August 31, 2025 MAS Museum, Hanzestedenplaats 1, 2000 Antwerp MAS has collected contemporary art by Ai Weiwei, Berlinde De Bruyckere and Stephan Vanfleteren in an exhibition designed to make visitors reflect on the more difficult questions about the theme of compassion.
Kurt Karlsson
Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA) Leopold de Waelplaats 1, 2000 Antwerp
Until May 4, 2025
Belgium’s own Panamarenko, the pseudonym of Henri Van Herwegen, was known for his creative and unworkable contraptions, like airships, submarines and helicopters, that could have been built by Wallace and Gromit. KMSKA celebrates the inventive and playful world, including sketches and original objects, of the artist who died in 2019, aged 79.
Wiels, Avenue Van Volxem 354, 1190 Forest
Until April 27, 2025
Brazilian artist Paulo Nazareth, who developed a selfstyled Arte de Preceito, or precept art, a practice of travelling to subjects, is presenting his work on language, and ritual in indigenous communities. It is shown alongside an exhibition by Brussels-based Dutch artist Willem Oorebeek.
Hangar, 18 Place du ChâtelainIxelles, 1050 Ixelles
Until June 15, 2025
Who’s afraid of artificial intelligence? The artists on show at the Hangar gallery have all embraced the technology to bring us an intriguing and, at times, optimistic exploration of one of the most concerning developments of our time.
Musée de la Boverie, Parc de la Boverie 3, 4020 Liège
Until March 16, 2025
One of Belgium’s most celebrated artists, Paul Delvaux became a pioneer of the Surrealist movement that emerged more than a century ago. The Boverie exhibition reveals little-known facets of this artist, through paintings, drawings and objects.
Galerie La Patinoire
Royale Bach, Rue Veydt 15, 1060 Saint-Gilles
Until April 12, 2025
LED lights illuminate the fabric curves of Joana Vasconcelos’ wondrous landscapes that evoke an ethereal realm through a kaleidoscopic series of textiles.
Rodolphe Janssen, 35 Rue de Livorne, 1050 Ixelles
Until March 9, 2025
A retrospective of Wim Delvoye’s works will include his notorious tattooed pigs and explicit stained-glass windows. It includes various sketches of the Cloaca, popularly known as ‘the poo machine’, which made Delvoye’s name 25 years ago by faithfully replicating the human digestive system.
Tour & Taxis, Avenue du Port 86C, 1000 Brussels
April 4, 2025 until November 9, 2025
French-Brazilian Sebastião Salgado is arguably the world’s most celebrated nature photographer, whose black-andwhite images of animals in barren landscapes suggest a pre-historic era. This exhibition features over 200 large-format photographs revealing the richness of the Amazon rainforest and the people who live there. It is accompanied by a soundtrack that was specially created by Jean-Michel Jarre.
Brussels
Every Thursday evening, from April 11 to May 23, 2025
Modesti Perdriolle Gallery, 27 Rue SaintGeorges, 1050 Ixelles
Until March 8, 2025
Joël Denot’s photographs, with their long exposures, look like abstract paintings. The exposure time is key: none of his photos are subsequently modified or digitally altered.
The Nocturnes are the annual moment when museums and cultural institutions open their doors in the evening, offering special exhibitions, guided tours and interactive activities. It promises a unique opportunity to explore the city's rich heritage in a vibrant and atmospheric setting.
Horta Museum, 27 rue Américaine, 1060 Saint-Gilles
Until June 30, 2025
The Horta Museum asked five Belgian artists to work with two artisan firms, the Van Neder textile company from Kortrijk and Florence and Martine Moulis from Arles, to create works based around velvet.
CIVA, Rue de l'Ermitage 55, 1050 Ixelles
February 26 to June 9, 2025
Marcel Broodthaers’s (1924–76) was not an architect but a pioneering Belgian artist who bridged poetry and visual art, and influenced contemporary art movements, including architecture. CIVA’s exhibition examines his art and articles on architecture and urban planning, industrial design and fashion.
La Monnaie/De Munt, Place de la Monnaie, 1000
Brussels
Until March 2, 2025
Eager opera fans can rejoice as Richard Wagner’s epic Götterdämmerung will be staged at La Monnaie/De Munt in the spring. Conducted by Alain Altinoglud and directed by Pierre Audi, the opera intriguingly has more than one ending –which Wagner spent 26 years tinkering with.
La Monnaie/De Munt, Place de la Monnaie, 1000
Brussels
April 11 to May 3, 2025
Baroque music returned to La Monnaie/De Munt with I Grotteschi, a new creation based on the three surviving operas by Claudio Monteverdi (1567–1643). These are L’Orfeo (1607), Il ritorno d’Ulisse in patria (1639–40), and L’incoronazione di Poppea (1642), presented over the course of two evenings.
Bozar
Flagey, Place Sainte-Croix, 1050 Ixelles
Kaaitheatre
March 20 to 30, 2025
An annual international festival focusing on classical, contemporary, and avant-garde music, Klara includes orchestral performances, chamber music, opera and multimedia projects. This 20th anniversary edition, themed We Are Now, has a diverse lineup that includes Gürzenich-Orchester Köln, violinist Patricia Kopatchinskaja, the Belgian National Orchestra, the Polish National Radio Symphony Orchestra and Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra.
March 26, 2025
Sportpaleis, Schijnpoortweg 119, 2170 Antwerp
Lenny Kravitz, who is 60 but definitely does not look his age, will be strutting across the stage in his leather pants, rocking out his greatest hits as well as songs from his new album, Blue Electric Light.
April 15, 2025
Queen Elisabeth Hall, Koningin Astridplein
20/26, 2018 Antwerp
Six-time Grammy winner Dionne Warwick sings through her 60-year career at Antwerp’s Queen Elisabeth Hall with an evening full of stories, anecdotes and her hits like I Say a Little Prayer, Walk On By, What The World Needs Now and Don’t Make Me Over.
Until March 16, 2025
Handelsbeurs, Twaalfmaandenstraat, 2000 Antwerpen
A swirling sound and light spectacle taking place in the beautifully restored Handelsbeurs, the world's first purpose-built commodity exchange. Vivaldi’s Four Seasons plays out over 30 minutes as stunning visuals are projected on the walls and ceiling.
March 14-15, 2025
Sportpaleis, Schijnpoortweg 119, 2170 Antwerp
Oscar and the Wolf – the moniker of Belgian solo artist Max Colombie – is now one of Belgium’s most bankable musicians, known for his dreamy melodies, danceable beats and spectacular visuals.
Stadsschouwburg Antwerp
Until March 2, 2025
The world’s most popular musical, with some 130 million people seeing it, The Phantom of the Opera is being performed over a month at Antwerp’s Stadsschouwburg. Andrew Lloyd Webber’s production, based on Gaston Leroux’s novel Le Fantôme de L’Opéra, tells the tale of a supposed musical genius who haunts the Paris Opera House.
Venues across Leuven
March 13-23, 2025
Leuven’s annual jazz jamboree showcases a diverse lineup of international and local artists in venues across the city. With concerts, jam sessions, and workshops, the festival creates a dynamic and immersive experience for jazz enthusiasts of all ages.
Brussels Expo, Place de Belgique 1, 1020 Laeken
March 7-9, 2025
A festival for fans of manga, anime, video games, YouTubers and cosplay – as well as Asian fast food like onigiri and mochis. Guests include French cosplayer Aokiji, YouTuber Alex San and Dragon Ball animator Katsuyoshi Nakatsuru.
Brussels Expo, Palace 10, Place de Belgique 1, 1020 Laeken
April 8-20, 2025
The BIFFF, the Brussels International Fantastic Film Festival, will screen more than a hundred features and shorts from horror, sci-fi, mystery and other fantasy genres, with guests, debates and exhibitions promised.
Flagey, Place Sainte-Croix, 1050 Ixelles
Marni, Rue de Vergnies, 25 - 1050 Ixelles
February 28 to March 9, 2025
The Brussels International Animation Film Festival, or Anima, held mainly at Flagey and Marni will show more than 150 films spread over more than 100 screenings for festivalgoers young and old.
Brussels Expo, Palace 2, Place de Belgique 1, 1020 Laeken
Until March 9, 2025
Spend a day living like one of the beloved blue creatures at Brussels Expo: with cutting-edge technology and impressive visual effects, visitors of all ages can enter the magical world of the Smurfs, concoct magic potions with Papa Smurf, take part in fun, interactive challenges and defeat the evil wizard Gargamel.
Brussels Expo, Palace 1, Avenue impératice
Charlotte, 1020 Laeken
From March 12, 2025
Want to swim with Nemo, cook with Remy the rat or blast into infinity and beyond with Buzz Lightyear? Then the Mundo Pixar Experience is for you: an immersive exhibition that recreates life-size scenes from these animation classics.
Flanders Expo, Ghent
April 5-6, 2025
A celebration of comics, manga, cosplay, gaming, films, series, sci-fi and fantasy, bringing thousands of geeks to the vast Flanders Expo exhibition centre, many dressing up as their favourite characters. Special guests include Natalie Dormer, Jason Priestley and Andrew McCarthy.
Royal Belgian Institute of Natural Sciences, Rue Vautier 29, 1000 Brussels
Until August 31, 2025
Combining the natural sciences with philosophy, anthropology and poetry, this insightful exhibition explores the concept of ‘wild’ and will awaken your curiosity and critical thinking. Visitors can learn more about Belgian wildlife, the history of the domestication of wolves and various other animals and enjoy films, scientific collections and more.
Europa Expo, Liège Guillemins station, 2 Place des Guillemins 4000 Liège
Until March 9, 2025
An exhibition honouring the history of aeronautical and space conquest, and tracing key moments through Lego sculptures. This is a playful and intergenerational approach that looks through three themes: the exploration of the solar system, the lunar conquest and the space universe through our imagination.
Design Museum, Place de Belgique 1, 1020 Laeken
Until March 9, 2025
Despite making crucial contributions to the development of modern design, women in the industry have often been overlooked. This exhibition seeks to change this, however, by putting 80 women designers in the spotlight and telling their story and their struggle for equal rights and appreciation through 120 years of design history.
Coudenberg Palace, Place des Palais 7, 1000 Brussels
Until March 2, 2025
An exhibition recounting the story of the now-subterranean Coudenberg Palace, which was engulfed in flames overnight in Brussels on February 3, 1731. For 40 years it remained in ruins and was later hidden under Place Royale. Visitors can rediscover the palace’s extensive remains, uncovered by urban archaeology.
LA FOIRE DU LIVRE DE BRUXELLES
Tour & Taxis, Avenue du Port 86C, 1000 Brussels
March 13-16, 2025
L Foire du Livre, the Brussels book fair, gathers publishers, editors and authors from French-speaking countries and regions to sell copies, sign books and debate literature.
Tour & Taxis, Avenue du Port 86C, 1000 Brussels
Until March 9, 2025
Travel back in time to ancient China with this immersive exhibition on one of the world’s greatest archaeological treasures: the Terracotta Army. A reconstruction of over 300 detailed replicas of statues, chariots, weapons and objects from the First Emperor's necropolis, offering a glimpse into daily, military and imperial life over 2,200 years ago.
Train World
Princess Elisabeth Square 5, 1030 Schaerbeek
Until May 11, 2025
Museum Hof van Busleyden, Frederik de Merodestraat 65, 2800 Mechelen
Until March 16, 2025
Museum Hof van Busleyden in Mechelen is showcasing an array of majestic 16th century Flemish tapestries which form an allegorical luscious Renaissance garden. By using precious materials such as gold and silk and unparalleled knowledge and skill, the artists capture nature in their woven works to create an eternal spring. The exhibition also features paintings, sculptures and books from art collector Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle.
Museum of Fine Arts Ghent (MSK), Fernand Scribedreef 1
9000 Ghent
Until March 1, 2026
The Adoration of the Mystic Lamb – the Ghent Altarpiece – is arguably the most important painting in the world. Completed in 1432 by the Van Eyck brothers, it displayed a mastery of colour and detail in the newly-developed oil painting that is still breathtaking. Seven panels are being restored in the MSK, and visitors can see the restorers of the Royal Institute for Cultural Heritage(KIK) live at work, in the studio behind glass.
Some of Belgium’s greatest artists of the past century have been brought trains into their work. This exhibition at Train World will feature rail-inspired works by Paul Delvaux, Franquin, François Schuiten and many others – including original drawings by Victor Horta relating to his work on the Brussels-Central station, and carriaged from the 1930s designed by Henry van de Velde.
Venues across the city
March 28-30, 2025
The Passa Porta Festival’s tenth edition, entitled Ghosts, will bring together authors, musicians, artists and actors at venues like Ancienne Belgique La Bellone, Beursschouwburg, De Munt/La Monnaie, and Théâtre National. Guests include Nobel Prize winner Annie Ernaux, British historian Timothy Garton Ash, Ukrainian writer Oksana Zabuzhko, Pakistani writer Mohsin Hamid, Dutch philosopher Connie Palmen, Mexican novelist Guadalupe Nettel and Korean novelist Sang Young Park.
Brussels
May 25, 2025
An epic run around the capital, starting and finishing in the Cinquantenaire Park, and pounding down Rue de la Loi, past the Royal Palace, up Rue Royale and Avenue Louise, through the Bois de la Cambre, along Ave Franklin Roosevelt and the leafy Boulevard du Souverain before the gruelling climb up Avenue de Tervuren. It may be a long way ahead, but many people need time to plan their training – and sign up for the race, which sells out quickly.
Flanders
April 5-6, 2025
Widely recognised as the world’s premier one-day cycle race, the Tour of Flanders starts in the Bruges Grote Markt and covers some 242km across the Flemish Ardennes and steep hills like the epic Geraardsbergen, before finishing in Oudenaarde. The race is on Sunday, April 6, but would-be Remco Evenepoels can try out the race the day before in the We Ride Flanders festival, with the full version and shorter distances (80 km, 144 km, 177 km) that start and finish in Oudenaarde.
Rubbish collections today are bewilderingly confusing for those who grew up on a single system for waste disposal. Geoff Meade casts his mind back to a simpler age of garbage
It was a mixed story, sometimes verging on a game of binbag oneupmanship.
My contribution to this rubbish edition of The Brussels Times Magazine is to invite you back to the days before multicoloured bags bulging with various kinds of household waste started literally littering the city’s pavements in a riot of orange, yellow and electric blue plastic.
But first: what a joy the modern era of rubbish is!
Every week on various collection days those colourful bulging bags brighten up our streets, at least until gangs of crows inevitably arrive to rip open the orange food waste bag to create tasty meals out of our leftovers before the dustcart arrives.
I have almost as much admiration for those canny crows as for the rubbish collection crews who whizz down the street whistling and swinging from the back of the cart as if they’re in a Broadway musical – especially for those who jump down and fling the bags through the air into the still-rolling truck as if it’s an Olympic sport.
No wonder Belgium is highly ranked in the field of rubbish disposal coupled with state-of-the-art levels of recycling.
When I boasted to a London-based relative about our five-or-more bag system she looked crestfallen: “We’ve only got two types of rubbish bags in our area, she wailed. “A transparent bag for paper, card -
board, yoghurt pots and plastic bottleswith their tops still on- and tinfoil, but only if it’s not scrunched up. Everything else, she said, goes into a black bag.
In my wide-ranging survey of a handful of other people’s experiences of their own domestic national or regional rubbish programmes, it was a mixed story, sometimes verging on a game of binbag one-upmanship.
Back here in the garbage collection mecca of Brussels, my favourite tale came from someone whose domestic rubbish collection system is linked with language borders, which produces a bonus of double opportunities for putting out bags every week.
It’s a bit complicated. This person lived for years in a street with two rows of houses on the same side. One row is parallel with the road and the second row is at the back with gardens in between. The first row of houses is accessed directly from the pavement in the normal way, but the second row can only be reached by long driveways between every two houses in the front row.
These are close neighbours, but the front-rowers live in Sterrebeek (part of Zaventem), and the second-rowers are in Wezembeek-Oppem, because the commune border lies between the two rows.
To make it more interesting, the two communes translate the Flemish name of the same street differently. In Sterrebeek, it’s called Hippodroomlaan, but in Wezembeek it’s Renbaanlaan.
So my source, who lived at 44 Hippodroomlaan, Steerbeek had a postbox right next to that of her neighbour, who lived at 46 Renbaanlaan, Wezembeek,
“Each commune has its own rubbish collection schedule, so while my rubbish was picked up on Tuesdays, my neighbour’s was picked up on Thursdays, number 44’s rubbish collection day is Tuesday, and it is Thursday for the person next door.
One piece of harmonisation brings a bonus to these residents: the rubbish system in both communes happens to be run by the same company, so both sides of this linguistic border use the same rubbish bags, meaning that householders can put out rubbish twice a week if they need to, using the days for both Sterrebeek and Wezembeek.
But enough about the present. Let’s look at a few true Close Encounters of the Rubbish Kind.
Tiger was one of three cats that joined the Meade household in the Belgian countryside in the early 1980s. Tiger was always the odd
one out: scruffy, scatty and prone to disappear in the nearby forest for days at a time, although he always came back eventually. But in 1986, when we returned from a brief holiday (the other two cats were in kennels), Tiger seemed to have vanished for good.
About two months later there was a scratching at the front door one morning and there he was, fatter than before but his fur was mangey and within days he had quietly expired under a bush in the garden. By the time I found him, rigor mortis had set in, his legs were splayed out and when I tried to wrestle his body into a black rubbish bag, his post-mortem limbs and claws virtually shredded the plastic. I left him under the bush, so the kids didn’t see him.
A couple of days later I was at home alone when I heard the weekly dustbin collection cart rumbling down the road, slowing to pick up our routine household rubbish. A lightbulb popped into my head as I rushed outside, grabbing Tiger’s corpse from under the bush. When the cart was moving off after picking up our normal rubbish, I trotted as close as I could without being spotted and then used a frisbee-esque throwing movement to toss Tiger into the back, where all varieties of waste were being mashed together by a toothy mechanical claw, as was the norm in those days. Like everything else at the time, Tiger was not destined to be recycled.
I like to think that, given his free-wheelin’ lifestyle, it was the ending that he would have wanted.
One day in 1993 a man whose overalls identified him as a Green man turned up on the doorstep and handed me a green plastic box. In fact, it was a Green green plastic box. When I looked puzzled, he explained that he
I trotted as close as I could without being spotted and then used a frisbee-esque throwing movement to toss Tiger into the back, where all varieties of waste were being mashed together by a toothy mechanical claw.
This is not – repeat, not - Geoff’s cat
It was not to be. The system couldn’t cope with that kind of disruption, so it was one box per household.
was leaving the box with us so that we could put our nuclear waste in it. It was a new service.
I explained that we hadn’t got any nuclear waste and he said that was no problem because the Green green box was for anything a bit dangerous or leaky, like an old car battery and that sort of thing.
I told him that, as luck would have it, I had got three old car batteries in the garage so I could do with three green Green boxes…
Oh no, said the Green man, only one box per household, those are the rules. But I insisted that not many people would be hoarding old car batteries so why not give me a couple of boxes extra to take up the slack?
But it was not to be. The system couldn’t cope with that kind of disruption, so it was one box per household. I asked what I should do with the other two old car batteries. He said the obvious thing was to wait until he visited again one day for the second one. I asked him if he would give me two boxes on that occasion to save him from visiting a third time. No no, he replied, because it’s one per box per household per visit.
Trouble is, he never came back ever again, and I can’t now remember if the Green van the Green man was driving was even green…
In late November 1992, a man we shall call Mr X walked into his local police station near the centre of Brussels to report a crime. In his own words, here is the full story:
Mr X: There was a break-in at my apartment and a few things were stolen so I reported the incident. I filled in a few forms and then left, knowing that the search for
What
the burglar was in good hands.
Me: So, what happened next?
Mr X: Nothing. Not a dicky bird. I didn’t hear anything until I went back to the police station.
Me: To check on progress?
Mr X: No. To report another burglary, about four weeks after the first one!
Me: Oh no! What did the police say?
Mr X: They were helpful. We did the whole ‘proces verbal’ thing and then they put my dossier in a file marked FU 2 and promised a full investigation.
Me: What does FU 2 stand for?
Mr X: I don’t know, but it certainly reflected my own view when nothing happened for a few more weeks until…
Me: Until?
Me: Until two policemen arrived at my place one morning and asked if I was Mr X. I said I was. I thought they’d come to tell me the burglar had been apprehended and that they’d found my stolen things.
Me: Had they?
Mr X: No. One of them was waving a crumpled-up envelope smeared with what looked like old gooey cheese. With my name and address on it.
Me: On the gooey cheese?
Mr X: No. On the front of the envelope. He asked me to accompany them outside to a rubbish bag on the pavement. I immediately recognised it as mine.
Me: Someone had tried to steal your rubbish bag?
Mr X: No. The very opposite: the dustmen had refused to take it away because I’d put out it for collection a day early.
Me: And the policemen had ripped open your rubbish bag to try to identify who had put it out on the wrong day?
Mr X: Exactly. They said it was illegal to leave rubbish out except on the day of collection but because they were feeling generous, they wouldn’t arrest me on this occasion but they wouldn’t be so nice if I made the me mistake again.
Me: So you were quite grateful…
Mr X: Oh absolutely. And as luck would have it, they were from the same police station investigating the two break-ins at my apartment.
Me: Very fortunate.
Mr X: Yes. As they were leaving, I asked them if they knew of any progress in the investigation. They said they were sorry, but their focus was on tracking down rubbish bag offenders and they were not up to speed with serious crime cases. So I said FU 2, hoping that it would keep my burglary case file in the front of their minds.
Me: Have you heard anything since?
Mr X: No, but if there’s no result soon, I know I can get police attention by leaving out another rubbish bag on the wrong day…
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