010: Futile

Salut, salut; it has been a while, hasn't it?


However, now that I have freed myself from the never ending challenge that is work, I am here and ready to tell you about the most recent events.
Let's start with something very easy - at least one would think it was easy; but apparently it's not - I am, of course, talking about the public transport system.

Ever had the feeling that despite your best efforts to not dwell on things, said things are the least likely to change, or to not bother you anymore?

Hence today's update is brought to by Don Quijote Ltd; but I am getting ahead of myself...

Don Quijote Monument in front of Brussels Centraal (side entrance to Brussels Centraal Galery)

As you may have gathered, the public transport system in Brussels consists of busses, trams and ZE METRO. Now, one would think during the period of... oh, I don't know, let's say 8:00 till 5:30, people are still able to think rationally while using ZE METRO. So if you, like me, grew up in the belief that you shouldn't enter or get on any fast moving vehicle after some sort of ringing, shrilly signal, and if you, like me, grew up in the belief that space, defined by fixed parameters is still just an approximation but nevertheless not infinite, then you're in for a real surprise. Apparently, the Brusselers have never heard of either thing before.

And here's how to spot them: actually it's not that hard to overlook the 36437 or so people who are busy crowding the metro stations during rush hour. And it's not that hard to not SMELL the 36437 or so people who just have to get on your metro; and it is in fact fairly easy to deduct why your metro or tram is late yet again. Why? It's not exactly rocket science. 36437 people trying to get on the vehicle at the same time with... oh I don't know... only 8 doors and maybe room enough for 120 maximum - you do the math!

I would suggest all of them come to Dresden, Germany and follow traffic education on bus line 61 during the peek of the semester ON campus. Let those students show you how you really squeeze yourself in without blocking the doors for un-effing-believable 23:48 minutes. I kid you not. Those 61ers sure know how it's done.



Now, to let go of that entirely unpleasant memory - I had a great weekend. I had a visitor. Let's call him... Phy (because he studied Physics) and together we went to Antwerp on Saturday. ANTWERP is made of WIN.

Antwerp, for those who don't know, is not at all too far from here. Antwerp also belongs to the Flemish speaking community of Belgium. For those who didn't know, the Belgians are a whee bit different in that regard, because there are three regions (regions equal the federal level): Wallonie (French speaking community), Flanders (Flemish speaking community) and the German speaking community.

Antwerp is also famous for its port and all the diamond shipping and for noble people like Peter Paul Rubens who died there in 1640, Frans Hals or Sarah Bettens (former singer of K's Choice). I recommend going there, preferably by train. Because Antwerpen Centraal Station is worth a trip alone. I am not gonna spoil it for you, if you must, go and google it.

And on Sunday Phy and I tried Belgian chocolate. And not to be misunderstood, pals, by chocolate I mean the real deal, bought at one of the most expensive places. Epic win in that department. Except maybe, never try something that has rose petals in it - that's a bit too weird, even for open-minded. And here's a hint how to spot the good chocolate places: ask them if you have to serve yourself - if they treat you like you have the plague; leave in an instant.
The good chocolatier will just smile at such a foolish question and will be "delighted to tend to your chocolate craving shortly". The world famous chocolatier however will be tsk-tsking at you in a manner that is bordering on condescending. But he or she will have you talk about yourself, if the chocolate is going to be a present; and if it is, what is the person you're buying it for like.

However - world class does not always come with the price charged. Keep your eyes open and if your stomach (quite literally and figuratively) tells you it's not right for you to be shopping at a certain place, then don't. Those Euros are better spent for coffee at one of the small cafés near Plattsteen (the street with the comics on the buildings).





And now, look at these assorted ramblings, my apologies for the length of this post.
And I am terribly sorry, but there are two things I have to say:

Happy Birthday to *you*.
Happy Birthday to me.