Waterloo

Waterloo is about 20 minutes from our house in Brussels. Driving south, you can’t miss the giant Butte du Lion rising up over the gently undulating farmlands.

The Dutch king erected it in the spot where his son, the Prince of Orange, was wounded in the Battle of Waterloo. Here on June 18, 1815, the British Duke of Wellington rallied the opposition to Napoleon’s march across the continent and ended the tiny emperor’s grand aspirations of world domination.

There. That’s everything I know about the Battle of Waterloo.

“Nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won.” —Duke of Wellington

This is the same time period in which the book “Vanity Fair” takes place, as well as “Les Misérables,” which apparently has 19 chapters devoted to the battle. I love that book, which Victor Hugo wrote while living in Brussels, but I must have read the abridged version because I do not remember reading any battle scenes outside Paris.

I was looking forward to the Panorama, a 360 degree painting, but the entire painting was people dying, so that was depressing. Man, battles are so depressing. Ugh.

There’s a fancy restaurant nearby, where the hostess encouraged us to enjoy the more casual brassiere next door for its menu enfant. This was a very good call, and Chris and I enjoyed Beers of Bravery with tartine aux champignons (mushrooms on toasty bread) while the kids gobbled down waffles.