As everyone knows, D was on a top-secret mission to Germany to create an AI thingy for ZKM. Sadly, he was even more isolated than we are--in a relatively small town, not-quite-passable language skills, not many people interested in socializing, and a lot of work. His weekends were his own, though, and so he awoke before dawn one Friday and took the train up to see us on the weekend of National Day.

That day we did the usual: picked him up at the train station, took him around to see the major sights. Since he didn't know much about the city in advance of arriving, it was all a revelation to him. His one goal for the weekend was to eat some sausage. There's definitely something to be said for not over-researching a place before going so you can form opinions about it without outside influences. We went to the city museum, which we hadn't been to before, which contained artifacts from old buildings, a fascinating set of maps from various points in the city's history, and a selection of the Mannekin Pis' many outfits. Later we had dinner at a beer restaurant and introduced him to gueuze. Unlike most initiates D took a liking to the gueuze right away.

The next day we went to check out the National Day scene, which we had missed last year due to having gone to Luxembourg. We got the impression that there was going to be some kind of street festival and a parade, but we were surprised by the scope of it all. We got to look around inside the Palace of Justice, which is almost as intimidating inside as it is outside. I hope I can avoid committing a federal offense for the remainder of my stay. In the square in front of the building, every police and military unit had a tent. There wasn't much of interest to us except a zip wire extending from the top of one of the buildings to the cobblestones below, but Vivaqua and the Red Cross were both handing out free water, in Tetrapaks and square plastic bags, respectively. We took advantage of that, since we didn't bring any of our own.

As we walked down the street towards the palace, we took in the sights going on around us: bands playing, games for kids, people wearing inflatable crowns that looked like brain-sucking spiders, a newspaper from that same day encased in a block of ice, public works machinery, and on and on. The crowd was excited but not rowdy-excited. We stopped at the Sablon and watched a group perform folk dances while we dined on sausage sandwiches, beer and churros. We got free masks on a stick of the king and queen, and I immediately began employing Albert II's head as a fan.

We continued up the street and D bought some dried sausages at a stall, and we stopped in the park across from the palace to take in some shade and eat them. People were already gathering for the parade, which was still a couple hours off at that point. Once we exited the park we discovered that the Belgian Parliament building was open, so we got in line for that.

The building was quite nice, with green carpet representing the Chamber of Representatives one one side of the building and red for the Senate on the other. They had some nice art and antiquities strewn liberally about, including busts of the Prime Ministers on the Senate side. In the center was a connecting passageway that contained life-sized paintings of the royal family through the years. I made the mistake of referring to the current queen as Fabiola (who is the widow of the last king) instead of Paola, and in front of me a man whipped his head around so fast that I knew I had made a critical error.

After the tour, we found a spot to wait for the parade to begin. We were aware that it was more of a review of the troops for the king, who was sitting in a grandstand on the other side of the park from us, so we were undecided about whether it was worth hanging around for. The crowd didn't seem very enthusiastic, but there were a fair number of people. We stuck it out, and were treated to horses with checkered butts, jeeps dressed up like those mop dogs, and many, many marching people whose outfits were slightly different than the outfits of the people in the groups before and after them. Overhead, the entire contingent of military aircraft screamed by, for a grand total of about 10 planes (which we were later told were almost all leased from other countries). Oh, the mighty Belgian forces!

On our way back home to rest up and decide what to do for dinner, we noticed a number of Secret Service-like security agents by the Palace of Justice, and an expectant crowd was beginning to form. We knew it had to be something good, so we found a spot and waited. A tour bus that tried to get through was shooed quickly away. One agent informed another: "twee minuten" (two minutes). A cadre of black Beamers pulled up directly in front of us and...some people in summery formalwear got out. Who else wears hats except royalty?!?? We were titillated by our brush with fame, even though, even though, who cares, you know? They're just people. They just happened to be born into a class system that's overstayed its welcome by a couple hundred years. (For the record, it appeared to be Prince Philippe, Princess Mathilde, Princess Astrid. They met up with another person who arrived separately, perhaps a royal from another country, and it looked like they were placing flowers on one of the many statues to the dead of various wars that surround the square.)

We had some chili at home from one of J's packets, went to the Atomium at sunset as the top ball was open for free that day, then back to the park for fireworks. We got a seat that was only slightly obscured (there's just no good places to watch in a city that doesn't have either large open spaces or major waterways) and enjoyed the show.

Sunday began with coffee and croissants, proceeded to the Musical Instrument Museum, and ended with lunch and chocolates. We got D to his train and saw him off, and he was never heard from again.

Or was he??