Manneken Pis

On a corner of the old town, a small crowd always gathers around a low fountain, phones raised, to photograph a tiny bronze figure barely half a metre tall: a little boy, cheerfully relieving himself into the basin below. This is Manneken Pis, the small, irreverent statue that has somehow become a beloved symbol of Brussels.

The figure is genuinely small, which surprises almost everyone, a modest bronze fountain of a naked boy, set on a corner since the early seventeenth century. Its fame is wildly out of proportion to its size, which is part of the joke the city seems happy to share.

The statue dates to around 1619, the work of a local sculptor, though the boy on the corner today is a copy, with the older original kept safe in a museum. A fountain has stood here, in one form or another, for even longer.

Many legends explain the boy, none of them certain: that he put out a fire, or a bomb's fuse, with his water and saved the city; that he was a lost child found in this pose; that he is simply a piece of old civic humour. The stories are part of the fun.

The statue's most charming tradition is that he is dressed up. He has a vast wardrobe of costumes, hundreds of them, donated over the years, and is regularly clothed in different outfits for festivals, anniversaries, and visiting causes, with a schedule of changes.

That wardrobe is itself on display in a nearby museum, rows of tiny costumes from around the world, a testament to how seriously the city takes its small, cheeky mascot.

The boy has cousins: elsewhere in the city you can find a small girl in a similar pose, and even a dog, later additions that play on the original's fame and humour.

The statue sums up something about the city's character, a fondness for the modest, the playful, and the self-deprecating over the grand and pompous, which makes it a fitting symbol despite, or because of, its size.

There is little to the visit beyond finding the corner, seeing the boy, perhaps catching him in costume, and moving on, so it is best taken as a quick, fun stop on a wander through the old town near the Grand Place.

The streets around the statue are full of chocolate shops, waffle stands, and souvenir sellers trading on his fame, so the corner is always lively, for better or worse.

A few practical notes. The statue is free, on a street corner a short walk from the Grand Place, and always on view; check whether he is dressed that day if a costume interests you, and do not expect anything grand, that is the point.

Find the little bronze boy on his corner, smile at how small and famous he is, and you have met the city's odd, modest mascot. When you walk on toward the Grand Place, the contrast between the tiny statue and the gilded square says something true about Brussels.