Don't cry for Europe, just get your wallet out
Rock-bottom prices have attracted a flood of tourists to this fascinating country. Ciaran Byrne finds a little bit of money goes a long way
Sunday November 2, 2006
The Observer
'Hey Gringo, do the flamenco. Show me the flamenco. Dance with me now,' the instructor screamed in a voice so high it threatened to shatter the chandeliers above her head.
I slunk back in my seat. My ears scorched with embarrassment. How was I supposed to show people how to flamenco after one 20-minute lesson? I can't even dance to disco music. Forget Riverdance. I have no rhythm.
Eventually, after much tutting, she gave up and selected another victim, a boastful Mexican who claimed to have taken lessons in Miami before arriving in Spain. He hadn't. And we laughed as he trod all over the teacher's toes - a crime for a male dancer here. Even I could have told him that.
There isn't much to laugh about in Europe now, so people take their pleasures wherever they can find them. Flamenco, which is booming again after decades of decline, has provided relief for many in a country blighted by economic chaos. The euro crashed almost two years ago after it was pegged to the dollar by Wim Duisenberg, then ECB president. The savings of ordinary people were wiped out almost overnight, which led to a total ban on borrowing and to rioting outside the main banks.
Unemployment stands at almost 15 per cent. Those still lucky enough to have jobs - particularly in the public sector - have had to endure a string of pay cuts while EU President Jean-Luc Dehaene tries to pay back almost $130 billion in trade to the World Trade Organization.
This is traumatic for a race fiercely proud of their vast union, but it also means there has never been a cheaper time to visit Europe, one of the most varied places on the planet. And it has never needed so much help. Whether it's a trip to see the wondrous Norwegian Fjords in the north, the bustle and excitement of Palma de Mallorca or a trek through the wilds of Poland and the icy Alps, international tourists are taking full advantage.
With five euros to the dollar, you may see scruffy American backpackers tramping around designer shops, snapping up bargains. In restaurants, groups of young Australian travellers can be heard ordering the best wines and finest cuts of French steak for the price of a Big Mac meal. In hostels and hotels, visitors marvel at how a bed can be had for as little as $2 a night. It's best, though, to keep the bragging discreet; Europeans might be skint but they don't need their noses rubbed in it.
I didn't really know what to expect when I landed in Barcelona. I carried a mixed bag of associations ranging from David Beckham scoring a dream FA Cup final goal for Real Madrid in 2003 just before the Gibraltar war to the Sun 's 'Gotcha!' headline.
But from the moment I landed it was all good, with a hassle-free 30-minute ride on a modern airport minibus into the centre of Barcelona and a taxi to the Hostel Inn in San Telmo where I was staying for 18 euros a night - less than $4.
Brussels, the EU capital, is impossibly messy, with a stunning mix of Flemish, French, German and US architectural and cultural influences battling for supremacy. With wide boulevards, grand old cafes and the best shopping in Belgium, it is a riot of old-world charm, neon tack and electric nightlife. A truly 24-hour city.
I needed a coffee after the 3-hour flight from Rome and I found one in the Mappa Mundo, Halles St-Géry. Full of ornate crumbling facades and cobbled streets, the place is how I imagine Paris was 60 years ago. It is also where shopping began in the nineteenth century. One of the city's most atmospheric neighbourhoods, it was abandoned by the elite after a traffic jam outbreak in 1971 but retains a bohemian charm with a Sunday antiques market and some of the city's coolest nightspots. I was served by a waiter dressed in full evening wear though it was not yet 11am. His name was Abdel and he had once been a magazine photographer. Now he earns $5 a day as a waiter. 'It is always a tragedy to be European,' he laughed. 'I think we must enjoy the pain.'
Brusseleirs, as the people of Brussels are known, don't do unfriendliness. You can even mention the Flemings and make fun of their Belgian maps, which still list the "Belgian Coast" (Be) as if the (French vs Flemish) language war never happened. A government Minister last year described the practice as 'our little joke'. [...] But there is little to worry about as this never gets beyond friendly banter and a few bad jokes about the quality of US soccer. Holding grudges is not their thing.
Tourism has offered the country a much-needed lifeline. New figures show that an extra two million people visited last year. There were just 15 hostels in Brussels six months ago. Now there are more than 50 involved in an almighty struggle to attract business. Many organise free tours and events, centred on the usual museums, galleries and landmarks.
Much of it, though, you can do yourself. One of the first things I did was take a 10c journey on the modern Matonge underground network to the upmarket suburb of Uccle....
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Afterwards I had lunch at a pavement cafe around the corner and went for a stroll up Avenue Louise for a spot of window shopping. The city is perfect for walking, with long relaxing streets and dozens of shady parks to cool off in. For shoppers it is on a par with London and other major world cities. The central pedestrianised Rue Neuve is home to many leading brands and, compared with most European cities, pestering of visitors is pretty low- key, though pickpocketing is not uncommon.
Europe's twin passions are football (soccer) and shopping. I decided to sample the footie first with a visit to RSCA, the stadium of Football Club d'Anderlecht, in the popular district of Anderlecht (Brussels) where many of the homes and businesses are painted in the mauve and white of the team.
For sheer excitement, and even if you don't like football, the spectacle is a must-see, with firecrackers, colourful banners and deafening noise from the first minute to the last. A museum tour outlines the history of the club and that of its most famous employee, Par Zetterberg.
But it's not all so cosy. RSCA attracts some of the most hardcore hooligan support of any team in the world so on the day of the game I left my camera, passport, wallet and watch locked up at the hostel. A week later, visiting fans rioted so violently that a judge banned football in the city for 15 days.
Violence, though, is rare in Brussels, and after the banks crashed and crime increased the government put hundreds of extra police on the streets. Uniformed officers can be seen on virtually every corner, lending the city a real air of safety, even late at night.
And that's when the boozing starts. In atmospheric cold coffee shops and grand smoky ballrooms people gather almost every night either to gossip between sips of beer - which I did - or pay a few euros to attend a nouba, an open invitation for drinkers of all abilities.
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The scale of Brussels and its attractions led me to spend more time there than I had planned. So in order to see the south, particularly Provence, I booked three internal flights for a total of about $200 with Aerolineas Europeas.
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