THE BULLETIN  February 2011 THE LOVE ISSUE

30 dating

Would like
to meet…
Single in Brussels? Tired of
trawling through the same old
dating websites? Done with
speed-dating, match-making
and lonely hearts columns?
Emma Beddington checks out
the best alternatives for finding
love and romance in Brussels

F
ull disclosure: I am woefully
unqualified to write about
this topic. I don’t have much
luck with men, and even less
with the kind of spontaneous
encounters I was supposed to be investigat-
ing here. First, I’m too shy to do the asking
myself, and second, it’s vanishingly rare for
anyone to man up and actually approach
me. Worst of all, on the very rare occasions
someone does ask me out spontaneously,
without exception, they either turn out to
be a lunatic or about 15 years old. The last
time I got a compliment from a man on
the streets of Brussels, it was followed with
the devastating caveat: “But I’m probably
only saying that because I’ve just got out of
prison.”
Nevertheless, hope springs eternal, and a
city like Brussels must be full of nice places
to meet a potential partner. It’s a city with
something – and someone – for everyone…
isn’t it? With some degree of trepidation, I
went to find out.

Delhaize Molière
569 Chaussée de Waterloo
Who goes there: According to my
sources, high-ranking Eurocrats, and the
staff and residents of the embassies and ele-
gant townhouses on Avenues Molière and
Lepoutre.

Why? To stock up on Ferrero Rocher, pre-
sumably, for the ambassadorial receptions.
My pick-up experience: I had high
hopes of Delhaize Molière. I have heard
this place spoken of in hushed tones as a
Shangri-la of Euro-beauty; the best place
in town to snare yourself a high-ranking
Eurocrat. Marvellous. My bank would be
delighted if I found myself one of those, as
would my children who are forever point-
edly mentioning to me which of their
friends’ fathers are ‘riche’. I also really want
to be invited to an ambassadorial reception.
So I put my best dress on and headed down
to Delhaize with optimism in my heart and
ready meals for one in my basket.
My first impressions were disappointing.
The store looks just like any other Delhaize
and nothing like the louche cocktail lounge
I had been led to believe awaited me: same
dismal lighting, same bewildering layout,
same phalanx of slow moving elderly
ladies blocking access to the meat aisle.
Nevertheless, I persisted, trailing the only
likely candidate I could identify – well, he
was under 60 and wearing a nice coat –
around the store until he picked up a packet
of nappies and five jars of baby food. Oh
well.
What’s the competition? Limited. I
spotted the occasional nanny plus baby-in-
buggy pairing, but otherwise the average
age for customers of both sexes was a solid
65. Possibly some of the sprightlier lady
pensioners might qualify as cougars?
Marks out of ten: 4/10. The only person
who spoke to me was the cashier, as I bought
my economy bag of satsumas. I’m going back
to Colruyt next time.
Also try: The bacchanal that is Place
du Luxembourg on a Thursday night; the
Eurostar ‘Carte Blanche’ lounge.
Brico
branches across Brussels
Who goes there? I like to think of Brico
regulars as the kind of men who know their
way around a fuse box, who don’t blanch at
the mention of a blocked toilet, and who
can knock up a fully functioning boiler out
of a pile of twigs and a teaspoon, MacGyver
style. Real Men.
All photos
by natalie hill
Why? I’m a bit hazy on this. To buy DIY
equipment? Tools? Man Stuff.
My pick-up experience: I was given
to understand that men like to help girls
with DIY problems, so I browsed the aisles
of my local Brico on Chaussée de Charleroi
trying to look charmingly out of my depth.
Nothing. Even when I picked up and bran-
dished a wrench (or possibly a spanner),
with a big red and yellow sticker on the front
reading ‘Try me!’ I didn’t get a flicker of a
response. Finally, in desperation, I chose the
nearest piece of forbidding electrical kit and
asked a man who was looking at the dizzying
selection of lightbulbs what it did. He looked
31
mildly offended, told me he didn’t work
there and pointed me in the direction of
the information counter. Ouch.
What’s the competition? I didn’t
spot any female shoppers, but more than
half the staff were women. That green
and yellow fleece they have to wear
doesn’t do them any favours, though.
Marks out of ten: 5/10. DIY is a
serious business. The only hooking up
around here involves lengths of cabling.
Also try: Gamma, your local hard-
ware shop.
Roskam Bar
9 Rue de Flandre
Who goes there? I was promised
hipster boys. You know, the ones with
ironic glasses, 1980s hair and jeans so
skinny they make their legs look like
twigs.
Why? To eke out a beer over a couple
of hours of chat (hipster boys never have
any money), to listen to the DJ sets at
weekends, and because it’s in a great
location in the perennially hip Rue de
Flandre.
My pick-up experience: First,
it was so dark it was hard to make out
whether there was anyone there at all.
When my eyes finally adjusted to the
gloom, there were indeed a couple of
tables of skinny boys scattered across
THE BULLETIN  February 2011
32 dating
the near empty bar, deep in conversation
among themselves. The atmosphere didn’t
feel remotely flirtatious, but perhaps it warms
up a bit later in the evening. I beat a discour-
aged retreat.
What’s the competition: The girls I
could make out though the Stygian gloom
were in the same mould as the boys: skinny,
jolie-laide, with challenging glasses. Also,
crucially, at least ten years younger than me.
Marks out of ten: 3/10, but I think it
was my own fault, for being too old and bor-
ingly dressed.
Try also: Café Central (14 Borgval) or the
bar at Botanique (236 Rue Royale).
Shocx
99 Rue Reimond Stijns, Molenbeek
Who goes there?
Martial arts enthusiasts, Jean-Claude Van
Damme wannabes, men who can bench
press five times their body weight…and no, I
don’t know what ‘bench press’ means. Shocx
is a vast martial arts gym in Molenbeek
with 3,000m2 of, well, fighting stuff. A
boxing ring, a cage for mixed martial arts
and any number of other alarming pieces
of equipment, including sledgehammers,
giant coils of rope and tractor tyres. Most
importantly for my purposes, there are
men everywhere. Men in kimonos,
men in very short shorts, men who
could break the Delhaize Eurocrats
into a thousand tiny pieces without
breaking a sweat. Phew.
Why? To get even fitter. To bond
whilst hitting each other. Hard.
Actually, the atmosphere was surpris-
ingly friendly and unthreatening, even
for a sporting disaster like me.
My pick-up experience: Barely
half an hour after I arrived, my legs were
wrapped around the implausibly muscu-
lar thighs of my charming coach Uriel as
he assisted me with some stretches, which
pretty much trumps anything I’ve ever
done in a gym. It only got better after that,
when I was allowed to try cage fighting;
learning how to fell a man using only my
knees, kneel on his chest and punch him in
the face repeatedly. Amazing.
What’s the competition? There were
very few women on the evening I visited, but
the ones that were there were terrifyingly fit.
THE LOVE ISSUE
I watched one woman casually do 2,000 sit
ups like it was a stroll in the park. Ok, maybe
it was 200. A lot, anyway.
Marks out of ten: 9.5/10. The guys were
charming, flirtatious, and incredibly mus-
cular. What’s not to like? As my cage fight-
ing trainer, Alexandre, said: “Where else
can you be in intimate physical contact with
a man within minutes of meeting him?”
Quite. I’ve docked half a point because I
was in so much pain the day after my train-
ing session that I couldn’t sneeze without
whimpering.
Also try: Nemo 33 in Drogenbos, the
deepest diving pool in Europe, or the
RocHouse climbing gym in Ixelles.
Ethnic Bar Lounge
277 Avenue Louise
Who goes there? Slightly predatory
individuals of both sexes, office parties,
eternal optimists.
Why? Well. I don’t think it’s for the
generic Euro-techno, or the watery
drinks, or the interior decor, which goes
heavy on synthetic animal prints.
My pick-up experience: My
friend K insisted I come along with her
to Ethnic after yet another night out
in the company of a gang of boys
Even the
briefest eye
contact with any
of the patrons
seemed to be
who only have eyes for each other. “Anyone
interpreted as
can pull there,” she assured me, not entirely
flatteringly. “No, really. Literally anyone.” an invitation to
I felt she was labouring the point slightly-
but agreed to come along anyway, purely for
research purposes, of course. exchange DNA
And she wasn’t wrong. Within 10 seconds
 33

of arrival we had had our first offer of a drink,

and even the briefest eye contact with any of Gay pick-up spots beyond Rue du Marché au Charbon:
the patrons seemed to be interpreted as an
invitation to exchange DNA. Quite frankly, i If you are looking i If you are
I was scared, and when K cruelly abandoned for a Eurocrat, looking for a
me to go to the bathroom, my terror redou- check out: the foodie, check
bled. By the time she got back, a very short “Mickey Mouse” out: perpetual
gentleman had sexy danced me into a corner bar (so-called for favourite Belga
from which I was trying, vainly, to escape. the former bright, Queen, the Fish
What’s the competition: The competi- mouse-shaped Bar at the Mer du
tion is lively to say the least. There are plenty seating) in the Nord fish shop in
of girls, and the outfits tend towards spandex European Parliament, Sainte-Catherine for
and cleavage. Dancing on tables seems to be or the canteen in the half a dozen oysters and
Berlaymont building. some people watching or the
de rigueur at a certain point in the evening.
chichi deli-restaurant Gaudron
Marks out of ten: 8/10. Effective, cer- i If you are looking for a home on Place Brugmann.
tainly, though some question marks over body, check out: Ikea Anderlecht and the

quality. trip along Metro line 1 to Ceria to get there.
Try also: Les Jeux d’Hiver. 
i If you are looking for an outdoorsy
type, check out: the tree-lined pathways of
the Parc Royal.
i If you are looking for an
intellectual, check out: Filigranes in
the European quarter, or the labyrinthine
restaurant and book shop complex Cook &
Book, in Woluwe.