It does not take long to realise that Leuven is a student town. The Catholic University of Leuven (KUL) has left a permanent mark on the place, with buildings that range from the famous (Central library) to the infamous (the horrid Literature and Philosophy -L&W- building) and the statue of Fonske (as in the Latin 'fons', fountain - of knowledge or beer, that is not entirely clear).

Sunday evening, people from all over Belgium pour into the town, arriving with their huge bags full of freshly ironed clothes and frozen meals for one, courtesy of their mums. On friday, they all take off again, in such droves that I imagine the average age in Leuven increases from 20 during the week to 60 over the weekend.

One of the most dangerous side effects of a student population is bicycles. They outnumber the cars ten to one and they stop for nobody, usually because they are so old the brakes do not work. (It's no use bringing a decent bike to Leuven - in my first year at university there, three of them were stolen and these were bikes that existed before I was even born.)

I like the fact that Leuven is the only place in Belgium were you can still find lots of places where don't have to pay to pee. Just walk into one of the university buildings and voilà.

All over Leuven, you can find little gems of restaurants and cafés, all catering to the ever-dwindling budget of students who have so much more to do than go to boring lectures. There is music, theatre and cinema (lots of it, and lots of it really good) and vast quantities of lukewarm alcohol in plastic cups at student parties.

It's clear that Leuven feels it has nothing more to prove, and it's hard to disagree. Sometimes though, it seems like time has stood still after 1969. Sure, fashion has changed, but there still seems to be an eery uniformity in its non-conformity. It's a lovely never never land where you don't have to grow up yet, and it's not hard to see why that is so appealing.