Brussels: a crumbling crisis?

I used to love this city. But it’s gone

I’ve often wondered what the last days of Rome were like. Of course, this is a modern construction we know didn’t really exist. There was no point where Rome was uninhabited, un-utilised, un-ruled or un-rebuilt. Like all civilisations and cultures, it just evolved away from what it was. Which was, some would argue, a good thing. A bit like the Belgian capital.

The minute you step off the Eurostar, you’ll be hit with the decay of this former empire. It reeks of the former and faded. Crumbling concrete and signs bleeding ink and flaking from the plaster sink into urine soaked tiles and long neglected concrete. This could be Chernobyl, in places. The soviet ugliness of cheap grey cubes softened only by the flowering of weeds leaves you numb on a grey January day. And that’s just Brussels Midi.

Everywhere you go, you’re greeted by poverty and desperation. It’s shocking, particularly in a western city. The homeless flock the trams begging beneath duvets and filthy blankets for their next fix, often reduced to screaming and shouting for anyone who can reduce the pain of withdrawal. These are desperate people, broken people, thin and hungry and shaking with the ache for heroin, ket, crack. Along Botanique, haggard and unsmiling women stare at their scuffed stilettos beneath faded…