Lille Notes: Encountering a Century of Fireworks on the Bricks of Flanders

Taking the high-speed train north from Paris Gare du Nord, you enter Lille’s morning mist in just an hour. This city, repeatedly tugged between France and Belgium, still holds the warmth of history on its brick buildings, yet lives its days as a bustling, steaming market. The Grand Place in the old town center is the heart of Lille. Flemish-style gables stack like candy boxes, with 17th-century merchants’ coats of arms carved on the walls. The morning market is just setting up stalls, and in front of an old lady’s strawberry stand are glass jars filled with Lille’s specialty Witloof (Belgian endive) sauce, its sour and salty flavor wrapped in creamy richness. The corner bakery wafts the warm scent of Pain d'épices (spiced bread), the aroma of walnuts and cinnamon blending with the cooing pigeons on the square, writing the word “slow” into the air. Walking northeast along the cobblestone street, you come across the glass dome of the Palais des Beaux-Arts de Lille. Inside, Rubens’ "Saint Eldrado Alfonso" glows with golden light that seems to spill out of the frame. But even more touching is the small garden outside the museum—elderly men sit on benches reading newspapers, schoolchildren in uniforms set up easels by the fountain, the blue paint in their boxes echoing the clock tower atop the distant city hall. In the evening, head to the Vauban dock. The old warehouses by the canal have been turned into small taverns, with chilled Bière de Lille (Lille beer) on the outdoor tables. As the lock slowly rises, someone strums a guitar facing the river, the tune of a French song swaying with the water’s ripples. Lights on the opposite bank gradually turn on, casting shadows of the brick buildings in the water, like draping history in a gentle veil. Before leaving, buy a bag of Moules-frites (mussels and fries) for a late-night snack. The crispy fries are coated with garlic sauce, and the freshness of the mussels mingles with the aroma of white wine—turns out, Lille’s most captivating charm isn’t its weighty history, but the fireworks of a century’s time simmered into a meal and a glass of wine.