UnspecifiedCredit: AFP
Steve McKenna discovers that dowdy Brussels hides a secret colourful side in its backstreets.
Are there many places on earth less desirable than Brussels on a cold Monday morning? That's what I'm thinking as I glance up at the overcast sky, then back down towards the hordes of grey-suited bureaucrats power-walking to the Gotham City-like headquarters of the European Union.
I'd heard all the rumours about "boring Brussels" before I arrived but I didn't think it would be this bad.
Most of the city's so-called "must-see" sights - the museums and galleries containing world-class art from the likes of Rubens, Rembrandt and Magritte - are closed on Mondays and I really (honestly) don't want to spend all day munching on sumptuous Belgian chocolates and quaffing traditional local beer.
But, as I leaf through one of the tourist office's booklets, I'm drawn by a section promoting Europe's "only comic strip trail".
I was a big fan of cartoons and comics as a child but my interest in such things waned when I discovered alcohol and girls.
Yet I feel the allure of a map that promises to lead me into the city's hidden nooks and crannies and towards some dashing pieces of street art displaying the adventures of Tintin, Asterix and company.
The self-guided tour begins in the Grand-Place, which is one of the finest sights I've ever come across. Despite a string of tourist-trap alfresco joints fighting for attention, your eyes will be drawn to the giant cobbled square's piece de resistance - the elaborate Gothic town hall, a building whose 100-metre spire is crowned with a statue of the Archangel Michael (the patron saint of Brussels) slaying the devil.
You can't go in - it's Monday, so it's closed - but you can stare at it for a long time.
It's framed by a row of guildhalls, built in the Middle Ages by the powerful trade associations of goldsmiths, cabinetmakers, boat builders and tailors - all of whom vied to surpass each other in the splendour stakes.
Buoyed by this unexpected pleasure, I head off towards the first comic strip fresco, pausing momentarily to buy a waffle drenched in warm chocolate (a Belgian speciality).
It's hard simultaneously manoeuvring the delicious snack into my mouth and following the detailed directions on my map. I just about manage it, stepping into the gorgeous Galeries Saint-Hubert, a glass-roofed thoroughfare with high-end shops and cafes, and navigating around the city's 13th-century cathedral before climbing up a thigh-straining hill.
I'm looking for a cartoon titled The Scorpion and finally locate it. It spans a rectangular-shaped stretch of wall but there are no spiky arachnids, just an illustration of a buccaneering musketeer boasting a long wispy moustache.
The Scorpion is the creation of artist Enrico Marini and scriptwriter Stephen Desberg and pays homage to swashbuckling heroes such as Burt Lancaster and Errol Flynn.
Nearby is the Belgian Centre for Comic Strip Art which, of course, is closed today. Designed by art nouveau master Victor Horta, it contains more than 30,000 comics and also traces the evolution of the comic book craze that struck Belgium (and neighbouring France and Holland) in the early to mid-20th century.
I continue the trail and develop hawk eyes, becoming adept at spotting the 30-plus frescoes that pepper the route.
It's hard not to be impressed, not only by the sheer size of some of the murals (we're talking the height of five-storey buildings and an equal width) but also by the finite details and kaleidoscopic range of colours used.
One of the joys of this trail is how it really gets you off the regular beaten track. I pass the (closed) museums and galleries, well-manicured parks and impressive mansions and palaces but I also experience the immigrant-heavy districts, with halal butchers and Islamic schools and scruffy flea markets that sell everything from fruit to floppy hats.
A buzz of French, Flemish, Arabic and several languages I cannot grasp fills the air, blending with the aromas of freshly cooked meat and spices wafting out of kitchen windows.
The biggest comic strip in Brussels (a display of Asterix and his Gauls charging at the Romans) is in one such down-to-earth neighbourhood.
Another particularly eye-catching image is one designed by Herge, the creator of Belgium's favourite character Tintin, the intrepid globetrotting quiffed young reporter.
By 5pm, it's getting dark and uncomfortably cold, so I find refuge in a pub.
And, as I sip my first glass of tangy lambic beer and reflect on my day's exertions, I come to another conclusion: thank goodness the "must-see" sights of Brussels are closed on Mondays.
TRIP NOTES
Getting there: Etihad (www.etihadairways.com) flies direct from Sydney to Brussels via Abu Dhabi four times a week.
More information: For information on where to stay and what to see, see http://www.brusselsinternational.be or http://www.visitbelgium.com. The first site also includes a map of the comic strip trail. The Brussels Card (www.brusselscard.be) gives entry to most museums and galleries as well as free public transport. It is available for 24, 48 or 72 hours and costs EUR20, EUR28 or EUR33 ($33-$55).
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