Last Friday, the 28th, O. and J. (hereafter referred to as "O" and "J" for the sake of expediency) arrived. There was some confusion at the train station, because I gave them directions and then later told them I'd meet them. O had intermittent email access that came with a sandwich on the Spanish island he was staying at, but he didn't get the last message so they ended up taking the metro without my assistance (but with my excellent directions). After waiting at the station for about a half hour, I took the metro myself and ended up getting home a couple minutes before them, even though we took the same route save the last turn.

After brief pleasantries, Jack, who was home for lunch, went back to work and the rest of us went to eat. It was a pretty basic meal, O and I having sandwiches and J getting some sort of pasta-y thing, but I did get to show off my broken French a bit and it was fun having both of them and the waitress/cook/owner person deferring to me for translation. We went back to the house so they could avail themselves of our fine laundry facilities, and then, having been warned that it was the last week of the sales and most likely going to be a madhouse, we went out to look for shoes for O.

It started pouring as we made our way back home empty-handed, aside from a package of paper napkins I had scored for 69 cents. We ducked into a pedestrian underpass which was far too stinky to keep us there for long and then slogged it back the rest of the way. Soon after we arrived home it stopped, of course.

Later we went to dinner at De Ultieme Hallucinatie, which is known for its Belgian cooking and its art nouveau interior. We ate on their patio, which had a very large statue of a bull and a wall made to look as if it was the interior of a cave. There wasn't much art nouveau-y about the patio, but it certainly was unusual. I had bangers and mash and Jack had the opportunity to order his steak "a point", or medium, which we had learned the previous day. We made our way back home via the regular touristic attractions, the Grand Place and Mannekin Pis.

Saturday, after a stop at the train station to reserve their seats for their return trip to Paris to catch their flight, we went over to the large outdoor junk market in Marolles. After astonishing them with the types of things people will try to sell, we settled in for lunch at a nearby spot to nourish us for the day's remaining travels. Jack finally got an opportunity to try the croque madame sandwich, differentiated from the croque monsieur by the addition of a fried egg. Placed on top of the sandwich, outside of the bread.

J kept mentioning how cute the trams were, so we decided to take one out to the end of the line to visit the Atomium. Although it wasn't as hot as my first tram ride, it was in the 80s that day and the sun beating on the ventilation-challenged cars made them rethink their desire to use them as a primary mode of transport. There was a bawling baby a few seats away, and we concluded that it was because her mother had dressed her inappropriately for the weather in a sweater.

We finally got to the Atomium and everyone marveled at its shiny newness. Although the admission charge was 9 euros and the line was long, the thought of going up and down and through the tubes to the balls, much like a giant version of a hamster maze, and seeing the views was pretty exciting. Also they have the fastest elevator in Belgium. And the girls on staff all wear '50s-era-atomic-age-inspired circle skirts. And the ticket has an icon indicating visitors to watch out for pickpockets, but it looks like the guy in the drawing is stealing his neighbor's kidney. All for just 9 euros!

We took the elevator to the top. Our guide explained to us in French how impressive it all was, but the four of us mostly focused on the glass ceiling above our heads, watching all the elevator innards rush by. The Atomium is right next to Mini-Europe, which has scale models of various European sites as well as a high admission charge. Fortunately there was a good view of the park from the top ball, so I feel can rightfully check that off the list. There was a restaurant at the top so we bought some drinks and hung out up in the sky for a while.

We took the elevator back down having only seen the one ball, which was a bit disappointing. Where were the exhibits described in the pamphlet? The children's area? The hotel, conference center and day spa? The Anti-atomium, exactly the same structure but buried 200 feet underground to protect the royal family in the event of a nuclear strike? While waiting in line earlier we noticed that a few people, after a discussion with the staff person guarding it, were using an escalator that seemed to go somewhere else within the structure. When she was distracted by helping someone else, we took our chance and got on the escalator. Finally, our ticket to unsupervised freedom! In reality, it was just the rest of the tour we had not yet seen, leading to the exhibits (including one black light art exhibit--hamsters love that kind of stuff) and the other areas. These balls were less densely populated, suggesting that many people paid the admission fee to go up to the top, came back down and left. There were more nice views, this time not as high off the ground, and some cool rocking chairs in the children's area as well as an unguarded restroom (the one in the top ball had an attendant). We loitered, trying to stretch our money as far as we could, and then left. We walked back past Leopold II's monument to himself and saw the royal residence.

We took the metro to an area that had a variety of restaurants and ended up eating at a North African one. I had a wonderful tagine with chicken and figs in some kind of honey sauce, to which one added the very al dente couscous. The sauce was absorbed by the couscous, which softened as it soaked up all the deliciousness. It really hit the spot. J ordered an iced tea, and out came a can of Lipton that was carbonated! We discovered this to be the norm over the next few days.