The next time your friend suggests you extend your layover in Brussels by, say, 10 hours, quickly, flatly, resolutely refuse to do so. Seriously. The town is about as exciting as, well, a 100-foot high stainless steel sculpture of an iron molecule.
That’s not to say the city isn’t attractive; on the contrary, it oozes old-world charm. It’s cobble-stone streets, Gothic towers, plane trees and public art make the seat of the EU and NATO altogether difficult to dislike.
In many respects, it’s the Ottawa of Europe; however, its charm is the kind you can acknowledge as being pleasant, but are liable to forget as soon as you’re back at the airport awaiting your onward flight to parts more exciting, like, say, Barcelona.