We were fortunate to find a well-priced stay at the Park Inn by Radisson, conveniently located across from Brussels Midi Station in Anderlecht—and with parking included. If you're planning a beer-focused journey through Pajottenland, I highly recommend this location. On previous trips, we stayed in central Brussels, which proved far less practical for beer touring.
Cantillon Brewery, a cornerstone of any Lambicland itinerary, is just 700 meters from the station. If you’ve been before, you’ll know it’s the natural starting point. As for Cantillon itself, much has been said. Over the past five years, its global cult status has only grown, especially in the U.S., and not even the pandemic slowed them down. Walk into the brewery and you’ll find Americans stuffing bottles into oversized suitcases, English-language tours in full swing, and a tasting room that’s almost entirely English-speaking. The power of great branding and storytelling is undeniable here.
Cantillon’s fame means they can afford to be selective: the bar and shop are open only until 5 p.m., including Fridays. They do open Saturdays from 10 to 4, perhaps grudgingly but it’s worth noting the crowd is thinner. Prices are steep (a glass of young lambic runs €5; bottles start at €20), and the range has shifted toward grape-forward hybrid lambics and gueuzes. Personally, I’m not a fan of this style, but tastes vary. Still, for orientation and atmosphere, Cantillon remains the perfect launchpad for a lambic adventure.
From there, we returned to Midi Station and hopped on the S2 line for a quick 10-minute ride to Lot/Beersel—home of my favorite geuzestekerij, 3 Fonteinen.
At 3 Fonteinen, time seems to stand still in the best way. The ambiance is welcoming, the staff warm, and the beers exceptional. We were lucky to visit on the third Friday of the month, when a local DJ spins vinyl—a regular event that made us linger for over four hours. The crowd was small but diverse, a mix of locals and visiting enthusiasts.
As expected, prices were high, but not without surprises. The standout for me was a plum lambic, full bodied, aromatic, and at €20 a bottle, surprisingly reasonable considering it contains 355g of fruit per liter. Some intriguing wine hybrids were also on offer at €7.50 a glass, but the Belgian plums easily outshone their Italian grape counterparts. We sampled the full lineup, even their house lager, which served as a pleasant palate reset. The bar closes at 8 p.m., and the premises by 9—enough time to enjoy thoroughly without needing to detour to more commercial spots like Oud Beersel.
Our final destination was Antidoot Wilde Fermenten, a farm-based project in Kortenaken, near Leuven. Reaching it without a car is difficult, but the journey is worth the effort. Founded in 2018 by a philosophy Ph.D. and his family, Antidoot produces small-batch sour ales, ciders, and natural wines—often with an experimental twist.
Their branding leans intellectual, with labels quoting philosophy and scripture, and their distribution is tightly controlled. Bottles are released seasonally, sold primarily on-site or through a few select beer shops in Belgium and the Netherlands. Club membership is required for larger takeaways and is only attainable by lottery or transfer—you can’t purchase one outright.
My impressions of Antidoot are mixed, but ultimately positive. Not every release is a masterpiece, but the creativity is undeniable. One standout was a wormwood-infused sour ale, which pushed boundaries in a compelling way. The setting a charming blend of rural farm and cozy retreat—is as memorable as the beverages. The family grows most ingredients on-site and has built a loyal following, especially among local Flemish supporters who helped crowdfund their equipment.
Antidoot is a brilliant case study in community-based brewing and the value of authenticity. I strongly recommend keeping an eye on their social media for release announcements and visiting if you get the chance.