Brussels

The bus slows in front of the Royal Palace. I gingerly glance at my audio recorder: number 43. I may choose from eight different languages. Brussels is lest we forget the headquarters of the European Nation – the epicenter an expanding conglomerate spreading from Portugal to the doors of Turkey – and must accommodate a diversity of tongues. I am not European. I choose what is easiest. I choose the only language I can confidently communicate in.

A robotic and androgynous voice springs to life. The palace sits on the edge of park which, on the opposite end, fronts the Belgian Parliament buildings. The design represents the Belgian style of governance: Constitutional Monarchy. The monarch remains head of state but his role is largely symbolic: all pomp, no power.