The first 24 hours of the summit in Brussels to hammer out a replacement for the European constitution  has been a “phoney war”, to steal the wartime parlance that Poland’s government has adopted. Knowing that another night of skirmishing lay ahead leaders happily remained camped behind their red lines, brooking no suggestion of compromise.

This is often the way at the biannual events, if only to add a little drama in an attempt to get the public’s interest. It certainly worked for the British press, excited by Poland’s claims of compensation for its war dead.

The haggling that goes on before every European summit is legendary. I’m not referring to all the talk of red lines by posturing leaders but the procuring by those lower down the pecking order of a pass into the Justus Lipsius centre where it all takes place, with its free flow of drink, food and, most of all, gossip.

Members of the European parliament are particularly keen to see their status recognised with the prestigious pass to feed off the crumbs at the top table. Each political group gets just one ticket. So Andrew Duff, the British Liberal who lives and breathes the constitution from every pore, will be left with his nose pressed against the glass while Graham Watson, his esteemed leader, prowls the corridors of power.

There are ways and means of getting round it. The eurosceptic Independence and Democracy group has found places for its two co-leaders. Jens-Peter Bonde, the veteran Dane, sneaked in as a journalist. That allows Nigel Farage, the voice of British obstructionism, to do what he does best, knocking back the beers with hacks at the bar and providing soundbites about Tony Blair’s duplicity.

Nothing could more annoy the UK Conservatives, who are stuck on the outside. They also want a referendum on any treaty and would love to bend but as members of the European People’s party are represented by Joseph Daul, a French farmer who backs greater integration.

Aides to Timothy Kirkhope, the Tory European leader, were left yesterday afternoon desperately lobbying for a badge as vice-chairman of the constitutional affairs committee to avoid this debacle.

Euroland is obsessed with voting formulae – ”square root”, ”double majority” and other such trip-off-the-tounge expressions – but let’s not forget the other side of tonight’s summit: the glamour content.

Hard to believe – gasp -  but Brussels’ tatty, low-key EU quarter lacks a certain glamour. The 27 commissioners might be the rock stars of the European Commission but they just can’t compete when the big names come to town.

It is hardly a secret that the European Parliament’s formal powers fall short of those accorded to a "proper" national legislature. One of the more tiring consequences of this situation is the Parliament’s lingering inferiority complex, which expresses itself all too often in grandstanding, overblown rhetoric and a deep desire to be constantly consulted, informed and patted on the back by the Brussels big boys – the Commission and Council.

Given the unique nature of the Union’s constitutional set-up, the Parliament will almost certainly remain a somewhat stunted creature for a long time to come. Member states will never give up their de-facto veto over lawmaking and their exclusive rights in many other areas, not least foreign policy.

Yet all this has not stopped the Parliament from emerging as an increasingly powerful player in the past few years. The latest example of the chamber’s growing clout may well have surfaced this week, when the Parliament’s transport committee voted on an ambitious plan to fully liberalise the Union’s €90bn postal services market.

Another update from the frontline of the vodka wars, and the battlefield in Strasbourg is strewn with empty shot glasses, rotten fruit and animal parts. Actually, they are pictures of animal parts, distributed by Polish vodka makers who fear that .

In fact, given that vodka made from offal probably would not sell well, it is unlikely that Tuesday’s vote of the European parliament would lead to such an end. Vodka made from anything other than grain and potatoes will have to say so on the label, though in rather small print on the back.

While this is only the first, rather than decisive second, reading of the directive governments have already reached agreement along the same lines and should rubber-stamp it at this stage.

Bizarre details come to light today in an EU report on laws to fight corruption in the private sector.

It turns out that “many” EU members have yet to make it a criminal offence to give or receive a bribe through an intermediary.

So, in theory, the cash-stuffed brown envelope deal-making school is alive, well and legal – so long as the gift is given indirectly. But is this really what it seems?

Just back from Luxembourg where I went to the EU interior ministers’ meeting.

On the train home I tried to spot the exact border between Belgium and Luxembourg. But it was only through car number plates and a change in mobile phone operator that I could first tell we’d entered another country.

People love to talk up Europe’s open internal frontiers and the right to slip across national borders. But recognising that criminals don’t respect frontiers, the EU is starting to hoard and share a massive amount of information on those inside.