The train yards having proved a most interesting distraction for a few hours, and having popped into an abandoned theatre, it was off into Brussels. Brussels is a right clusterfuck of a city - grey, depressing, and totally-fucking-impossible to navigate by car - there are no signs indicating anything, and if you manage to get to where you're going, good luck attempting to get out again.
Having braved a very dubious falaffel, we ventured out in the night to take on scarier things - the horror labs.
Ex-vetenary school - 4 stories of abandonia, but the most gory of treasures, naturally, were stored in the basement - decapitated kitties, sub-sectioned puppies, cow heads and more. Unsurprisingly, the initial gush of the macarbe turned .. macarbe rapidly.
Out and scooting across the city to find our evening's accomodation - the Palais du Justice (equivalent of the surprime court). Scaffolding went up 30 years ago, sending the company promptly broke - granting a permanence to the decaying girdwork.
Climbing up in the pouring rain, in plain view of security and passer-bys alike, we skirted the rooftops, slipped inside, popped a door with a bra wire, and found ourselves in the tippy top of the cupola - the perfect place for a squat, after shooting some photos.
Nothing like a warm, dry room with a view and a beer after a cold wet day:
...rest coming :D