Like the bronze statue below, people are always pissing on poor Brussels.

In fact, a recent survey of international travelers named Brussels as the "most boring city in Europe."

I honestly don't get what they're moaning about. I've been drawn to the Belgian capital since I first visited years ago, despite living in the much more "highly-rated" city of Paris. Less than two hours by high-speed train from my home base, Brussels feels to me like an alternate universe: it's beer instead of wine, relaxed instead of sexy, chatty instead of cold.

It's also complex and full of contradictions. In addition to the co-habitating Flemish and Walloon communities, Brussels is bustling with immigrants. This includes a big population of refugees, an even-bigger population of EU bureaucrats, and everything in between. Walking for 20 minutes in any direction, you're likely to pass through a Dutch-speaking quarter, a French-speaking hood, and a migrant district or two. 

Architecturally, Brussels is a mix of breathtaking Art Nouveau and some of the worst disasters you'll ever see. The city is littered, even in the center, with old buildings in various states of decay. It's so bad, in fact, that "Brusselization' has become a buzzword to describe uncontrolled and anarchic urban development. But for every street that feels like a windswept urban graveyard, there's another one full of cobblestone charm and preserved historical beauty. The mix is confusing and often frustrating... but never boring.

Photo by Rene J

The one complaint that I agree with is about the city's weather. More often than not, Brussels is grey, cold, and wet. On the bright side, the city has developed a rich interior life and is brimming with cozy bars and cafés. Quirky dive bars - the sort that would be underground sensations in New York or Paris - sit on almost every corner. My favorite ones makes me want to move to here, camp out in one of the worn wooden booths, and write a really bad novel while making my way through the beer list. 

On the all-important food front, Brussels can hold it's head high.The city is stocked with Michelin-starred restaurants, but it also excels at grandmotherly comfort food. Eating a good carbonnade in a neighborhood place (washed down with a cold pint, of course) is one of the great pleasures of Brussels. Beyond Flemish and French classics, however, the city's cosmopolitan crowd supports a wide array of ethnic eats. There are hundreds of high-end Italian tables, and more exotic options - everything from Greek BBQ to Congolese Mwambe - are abundant.

As for nightlife, the survey category in which the city was slammed, I remember being jealous of Brussels when I first visited. Sitting in a dive bar that has since closed, I was reading the upcoming concert calendar and seething with envy. The agenda was packed with indie bands that I'd been dying to see - all playing here instead of Paris! My town has caught up in recent years, but Brussels remains a major hub for live music. Outside the concert hall, there's plenty of carousing to be done in the clubs and bars around the rue Marché au Charbon. The city's all-night party scene is so (in)famous that some visitors don't even bother booking a hotel. Does that sound boring to you?

Photo by quarsan

The people who bad-mouth Brussels probably just don't know where to go. But momondo is hoping to correct that with new coverage of the drinkable city. We'll be sharing our favorite food haunts, dive bars, design hotels and rock stages - all in the hope that you will love and defend Brussels like we do. 

Bon voyage and goede reis!

The “design” component of Hotel Bloom hit me over the head before I'd even walked in. The front windows are glammed up like department store displays, bringing funk to an otherwise unlovely exterior. Crossing the threshold and then the lobby, I found it difficult to decide where to look. On my left, two moddish egg chairs were dangling from chains.

Overhead, the intricately moulded ceiling competed with a wooden chandelier for my attention. The front desk featured a flatscreen with fashion week coverage, a bowl shiny green apples, and a receptionist named Pomme. She wished me a good stay and I rushed off to discover my digs.

Each room at Hotel Bloom bears its own stylish imprint. Young and talented (but not-yet-established) designers are selected to dress up a series of rooms. Far from "Pimp my Room" excess, however, the results are fairly low-key.

My room had a tastefully stenciled wall and an accompanying text from the artist about its meaning. The room was flooded with natural light and had a view over the nearby botanical gardens.

To get the travel kinks out, I took advantage right away of the fitness center down the hall. Alone in the room, I had my pick of about twenty brand-new cardio machines, and there was a gleaming weights set-up around the corner. Distraction came in two forms - looking out over the city skyline and watching the flatscreen TV.

Returning to my room, I stopped in the 8th floor lounge just to see what it was about. I found the traveling parents' dream: a spacious annex where brooding teens could be sent to watch movies (a DVD library), play video games (a Wii console) or goof around on the internet (several computer stations).

There was also a full kitchen and a dining room table. I made a mental note to remember this place if and when I ever reproduce.

Back in the room and after a shower in the nothing-special bathroom, I was ready for a little work. The extra-long desk let me to spread out my papers, fire up the laptop with free wifi, and get down the serious business of figuring out where to eat.

The in-room espresso maker kept me juiced, and a special speaker port for my iPod meant that I could sing along while selecting my targets.

The hotel restaurant S'Moods was definitely not on my to-try list. I love design in my hotel room but am suspicious of it in restaurants. At S'Moods, there are seven different "mood islands," each with a different style.

Diners can choose between "flower power" and "passions," among others (I'm not sure where the rustic wood cabin arrangement fits in). It looked like a fun place to drink, but I couldn't imagine eating there.

Of course I hadn't come to Bloom for the restaurant. I had come for the promise of stylish digs at an insanely low price. And bottom line, I wasn't disappointed. The rack rate for a double room is 290€, but the nearly perpetual internet specials keep the real price (at weekend) around 100€ per night. Even without the design flourish, this would be a great price for a very comfortable stay with plenty of little perks.

On the downside, the over-branding can be a little annoying (Hotel Bloom music CD, anyone?) and the 22€ breakfast supplement is more costly than you'd find in a 5-star hotel. I skipped it and instead took my coffee on the sprawling terrace at the neighboring botanic gardens.

Despite these drawbacks, I found Hotel Bloom to be an exciting place to stay. The design concept was well-executed, and not at the expense of comfort. And the services - free wifi, iPod port, fitness center and lounge - were spectacular for the 100€ price.

Hotel Bloom; 250 rue Royale, 1210 Brussels (St-Josse)

As an American, I am periodically subject to intense cheeseburger cravings. While I thoroughly appreciate the local cuisine, my soul sometimes just needs the food of my youth. In the past, whenever this happened, I ran to my old standby Joe Allen. I didn't like the corporate ambiance or the fact that it was filled with tourists, but I survived by ignoring everything but the bacon cheeseburger between my hands.

Those blinders are no longer necessary. I am happy (and also a bit baffled) to report that Paris has been gripped by Burger Mania. My national sandwich has ventured out from the sports bars and can now be found at some of the city's trendiest spots.

It's not surprising that French chefs are adding their own personal (and often posh) touches to distinguish their burgers from the rest. Black Calvados, where my concierge friend Adrian sends his upscale clientele, serves a wagyu burger with black soy sauce. Dorie Greenspan raves about the version at Café Salle Pleyel, which mixes porcini mushrooms in the meat and serves homemade pickles on the side. Louise tells me that the "Love Burger" at Café Etienne Marcel is shaped like a fashionable little heart. And the New York Times just published an article highlighting Le Burger at L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon - "two burgers topped with slabs of foie gras of almost equal size."


Photo of Le Burger by Biskuit

My burger of preference in this brave new world is decidedly less luxe. I suppose I'm a traditionalist in this matter. Either that, or I can't afford to spend 40€ on a burger. In any case, I've decided that Express Bar is where I want to get my fix. Gary Willimont, a British chef, runs this modest little joint near Voltaire. As someone who has worked alongside celebrities Gordon Ramsey and Jamie Oliver, he seems reluctant to be typecast as the Burger Guy. "Wouldn't you really rather try the fish?" he suggests, pointing out a fresh rascasse with julienned vegetables. But I have come here for one reason, and for one reason alone.

L'Express Burger, the object of my desire, is served on fluffy pillows of ciabatta that Gary has baked himself. The cheese topping might be an oozy mozzerella or a thick slice of Cantal. The fries are perfect - crisp and golden on the outside with an airy interior, and served with a side (no begging!) of ketchup.

 
Photo of L'Express Burger by Le Blagueur

For the moment, then, my meat-loving heart belongs to Gary at Express Bar. But with competitors popping up all over town, it will be hard to remain completely loyal. I can only hope that the famous French tolerence of infidelity applies to burger love as well.

Express Bar, 31 rue Saint Maur, 75011
L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon, 5 rue Montalembert, 75007
Café Etienne Marcel, 52 rue Etienne-Marcel, 75002
Café Salle Pleyel, 252 rue Fbg St Honoré, 75008
Black Calvados, 40 avenue Pierre 1er de Serbie, 75008
Joe Allen, 30 rue Pierre Lescot, 75001

Go further: Fancy burgers? Read about Elini's favourite Burger Joint hidden away in New York.

Lisbon abounds with sleek bars – places like Lux, owned by John Malkovich, that have widescreen views over the water. But my favorite places to drink don’t have any windows at all.

Miradouro is the Portuguese word to describe a scenic viewpoint. In most cities, such spots are designated by a sign, maybe a pair of coin-operated binoculars. In Lisbon, miradouros are adorned by cafés. Like decoration on a batch of cupcakes, these spots are sprinkled atop the city’s seven hills and nestled in crannies overlooking the water. The open-air terraces serve a multitude of functions, as I discovered on a recent mirodouro crawl.

Miradouro das Portas do Sol

We arrived 'early' in the morning at the Miradouro das Portas do Sol. True to its name, the terrace had already attracted a fair number of sun seekers at 11am. A number of sofas – modified beds, really – had been placed around the patio. Bodies were draped over these, unmoving except for occasional gestures toward fruit juice. “I think what we have here is a hangover recovery center,” I noted, while also admiring the views of Alfama rooftops. We worked on our tans for a while, but then left in search of a more gastronomically-minded miradouro.

Miradouro do Adamastor

Photo by Zöe_Alexandra

The Miradouro do Adamastor offers what many argue is not the best view on the Tejo. It makes up for this by instead providing a tasty lunch spot. The Noobai café is reached by stairs winding down from western side of the miradouro. Outdoor tables and fake sunflowers are planted all over the terrace, with a DJ spinning some relaxed tunes. I chose a salad from the good-looking menu and had another icy glass of fruit juice. In the hot mid-day sun it was difficult to imagine anything else, but locals curl up here in the cold months with hot drinks and complimentary blankets.

Esplanada da Graça

After a short break for some cursory castle inspection, it was time to continue the crawl. We wound around to the Esplanada da Graça, which gazes back at the Castelo de São George. The basic café set-up here includes metal tables and cold beer. The stunning view and some classical guitar kept us happy for several rounds.

Miradouro da Santa Luzia

A bit later we headed east to the prettiest lookout in town. Decorated with ceramic tiles and brightly colored blossoms, the Miradouro da Santa Luzia was very quiet when we arrived. A few solitary old men were staring out to sea, and a young woman was reading. We sat relishing the cool air blowing in from the water and were soon so relaxed that our heads were rolling forward.

"What this one really needs is an outdoor bed,” I joked. My friend grinned, and then reminded me of the morning’s first miradouro. “Das Portas do Sol!” we cheered, and then rose to make our return. And thus the crawl came to an end exactly where we began, sprawled on outdoor sofa-beds with white sheets blowing overhead.

Go further: Find out how Lucy Pepper prefers to reach the top of Miradouro de São Pedro de Alcântara here.

Paris is filled with lavish hotels - former palaces that have been converted into dens of discreet luxury. These are places that recall an earlier empire, or, depending on your cultural preferences, the last episode of Sex and the City. These are not places we can afford.

For those who still want old-world glamour, there are plenty of frumpy and over-decorated rooms for around 200€ a night. But rather than pay for over-priced knock-offs, smart visitors are eschewing tradition and going instead for something modern. A number of sleek and enlightened hotels have cropped up recently that are much better suited to our 21st century needs. Hôtel Amour, which Louise told you about earlier, is one of these. Another has emerged on the city’s trendy east side.

Photo by Supermaikhanh

I first learned about Le General when a visiting friend invited me to come to her hotel and get a drink at the bar. “A hotel bar? Why don’t we just go out instead?” I protested. She told me to trust her, and I wasn’t disappointed. Just a few paces from Republique, Le General is indeed branché (trendy) – all dressed up in chocolate, fuchsia and white. The bar was swank and I soon learned about the hotel’s other amenities - free wifi in every room, a 24-hour business center, and a fitness center with sauna. But most interesting (and unusual) was 'all-inclusive package.' A standard double room costs a modest (by Paris standards) 175€. But spend a little more - 235€ - and the all-inclusive rate gives access to a massive breakfast spread, a bathrobe, and (drumroll please) an open bar.

I suddenly understood why we were drinking at the hotel – my friend could down as many mojitos as she liked and her employer, who was paying, would never know. Is this not a business travelers dream? I was able in the end to drag her out and into the nearby Oberkampf area. The drinks weren’t free, but the streets were filled with bars and good restaurants. She had an easy stumble home after enjoying one of the most city’s most lively neighborhoods.

Since that night, when anyone young (with a compulsion for cocktails and internet access) asks for a hotel recommendation, I tell them about Le General. Especially if someone else is paying.

Le General, 5/7 rue Rampon, 11. arr. Metro: Republique

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