Brussels, Ghent, Amsterdam & Paris: Europe Simply Does Not Disappoint

The World Traveller Series — Entry No. 8

by Brett Hayhoe

If you have been following the World Traveller Series, you may recall a passing mention in the London entry of a European adventure that preceded it. This is that story.

There is a particular kind of traveller who, when a travel agent says “would anyone like to continue on through Amsterdam and Paris after the conference?”, puts their hand up. At the InterPride AGM and World Conference in Brussels, that traveller was me. Apparently, it was only me. Every other delegate looked at the itinerary, nodded politely, and booked their flights home.

Their loss was, as it turned out, quite spectacular.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Because before any of that — before Ghent, before Amsterdam, before Paris, before the travel agent became my personal chauffeur through one of the most beautiful corners of the world — there was the first night in Brussels. And the first night in Brussels was, to put it plainly, a disaster.

BRUSSELS: THE NIGHT EVERYTHING WENT WRONG

A group of us found a little bar on that first evening, as conference delegates do, and the evening evolved in the way evenings in Brussels have a tendency to evolve. One thing led to another and we found ourselves at a multi-level sauna. It was, by all accounts, a fine establishment. Someone in it, however, was not fine at all. My wallet was stolen.

What followed was one of those travel experiences that nobody puts in the brochure. Being in Europe with no access to Australian bank accounts, no cash, and the particular stone-walling recalcitrance of the sauna’s management when it came to taking any responsibility whatsoever — it was, to use the technical term, a lot. The problems cascaded in the way problems do when money is the root of them. Every subsequent decision on the trip was filtered through the lens of what I could and could not afford to do.

There was, however, one shining light in the wreckage: American Express. Within 72 hours they had replaced my card. If you travel internationally and you do not have an AMEX, this is your sign. The cash situation remained a challenge for the remainder of the trip, but AMEX gave me the lifeline I needed, and I will not forget it.

And then I looked up. And Brussels was there. And it was stunning.

BRUSSELS AND GHENT: BEAUTY THAT STOPS YOU IN YOUR TRACKS

The InterPride AGM and World Conference is, for those unfamiliar, one of the most significant gatherings in the global LGBTIQA+ calendar — a meeting of Pride organisations from around the world, setting the agenda for the movement internationally. To attend one is to be reminded, in the most vivid way possible, of both how far we have come and how much work remains. Brussels, as a host city, was extraordinary: a city that wears its history on every façade and its cosmopolitanism in every café.

As part of the conference schedule, delegates were taken on a day trip to Ghent — and if Brussels is stunning, Ghent is the word that comes before stunning, the one that does not quite exist in English. Medieval, immaculate, laced with canals and lit by a particular quality of northern light that makes everything look as though it has been painted rather than built. I walked around Ghent in a state of near-permanent disbelief that places like this simply exist, casually, as ordinary cities where ordinary people live their ordinary lives.

THE TRAVEL AGENT, THE OPEN ROAD, AND AN EXTRAORDINARY GIFT

When the conference concluded and every other delegate headed for the airport, I headed for the car. Because the travel agent — the one who had offered the extended itinerary that nobody else had taken up — was now in the slightly unusual position of having exactly one client to escort through Amsterdam and on to Paris. The solution was elegant and, for me, completely wonderful: he drove me himself.

To see that part of Europe by car, at a pace set by curiosity rather than by timetable, with a knowledgeable companion rather than a tour group — it was, despite the ongoing wallet situation, one of the great travel experiences of my life. The landscape between Brussels and Amsterdam is not dramatic in the conventional sense. It is quietly, persistently beautiful: flat and wide and green, punctuated by things that look like postcards of themselves.

I recommend it unreservedly. Take the slow road. Always take the slow road.

AMSTERDAM: WALK EVERYWHERE, FEEL EVERYTHING

Amsterdam is a city that reveals itself on foot. This is not a suggestion — it is a requirement. The moment you step onto a canal boat tour or hail a taxi you have missed the point entirely. Amsterdam is its streets, its bridges, its impossibly narrow buildings leaning gently toward each other across the water as though sharing a confidence. It is its cyclists, its markets, its particular smell of rain on brick.

For LGBTIQA+ travellers, Amsterdam carries a weight beyond its famous Reguliersdwarsstraat and its long reputation as one of the world’s most welcoming cities for our community. In the Westerpark district stands the Homomonument — three pink granite triangles arranged as one, commemorating gay men and lesbians persecuted during the Second World War and standing as a memorial to all LGBTIQA+ people who have suffered persecution throughout history. It is quiet and it is powerful and it will stop you. Give it the time it deserves.

Amsterdam is a huge contrast to Brussels and Ghent — louder, busier, more chaotic in its energy — but great entirely on its own terms. Do not arrive expecting one thing and resist the other. Let it be what it is.

PARIS: DO ALL OF IT. ALL OF IT.

The travel agent deposited me in Paris in the Opera district — central, perfectly placed, and exactly the right base from which to do what I proceeded to do: every single tourist thing Paris has to offer. The Eiffel Tower. Notre-Dame. The Louvre. The Champs-Élysées. Montmartre. The Seine. Every landmark you have ever seen on a postcard, every cobbled street you have ever seen in a film — I went there, I stood there, I looked at it with my own eyes, and every single one of them was worth it.

People who are too sophisticated for tourist Paris are missing the point of Paris. The tourist things are tourist things because they are extraordinary. Do them without apology.

The trip concluded in the most fitting way imaginable: boarding the Eurostar at Gare du Nord, slipping beneath the English Channel, and emerging in London. Which, as regular readers will know, is where the next chapter of this particular adventure begins.

That story has already been told. But it could not have been half as meaningful without everything that came before it — including, I should say, the stolen wallet. Some of the best travel stories begin with a disaster. This one certainly did.

THE SUMMARY

Where: Brussels → Ghent (day trip) → Amsterdam → Paris → London via Eurostar
When: The trip preceding the London episode — readers, you now have the full picture
Travelled: Initially with conference delegates; subsequently, and wonderfully, by private car with a travel agent who deserves far more credit than he will ever receive
The low: A stolen wallet on night one that made the entire trip a financial battle
The hero: American Express — card replaced within 72 hours. Travel with one. Always.
Don’t miss: The Homomonument in Amsterdam; the day trip to Ghent under any circumstances; Paris on foot with no agenda and a full day; the Eurostar just for the romance of it
The vibe: Medieval grandeur, canal beauty, chaotic joy, and the most beautiful city in the world at the end of it
The lesson: Take up the offer nobody else takes up. Every single time.

The World Traveller Series is published in Q Magazine and on Ask Brett at bretthayhoe.me, where each entry is also available as a podcast episode. Entry No. 7 — Hong Kong: The Smell of Asia and the City That Wouldn’t Let Go — is available now.