Category Archives: leuven

Sunday 15th April 2018 – I’M MOVING ON …

…this morning so I can’t afford to hang about. I have a lot to do.

Not like during the night anyway. For some reason or other I had a desire to learn English – more really for the precise terms of grammar than anything else. And so I enrolled on this course that was taking place in Flint in North Wales. So I entered the class where the teacher greeted me in fluent Welsh. Whatever the standard of my Welsh might be, it wasn’t good enough to understand anything at the speed that she was speaking and this took me completely unawares. I stepped back for a minute to wonder how I was going to cope with this. In the class was a girl from Finland – tallish and well-built with shoulder-length blonde hair in a pony tail, and we ended up in a bar having a drink and a chat about our experiences in this class.

I leapt out of bed with alacrity (and I bet that you thought that I was on my own, didn’t you?) and while I was waiting for my medicine to work I caught up with a few bits and pieces that needed doing and that I should have done yesterday had I not been so exhausted after our trip out.

After breakfast I started to hunt things down and do my packing but for some reason or other it took far longer than I expected and I ended up stuffing things at random into my suitcase – and then unstuffing them as I searched for things that I needed and that I couldn’t remember having stuffed into the aforesaid. I’m clearly in a bad way.

And my suitcase seems to weigh about 10 times more than it did coming here. I haven’t bought that much extra stuff – I know that – and a lot of the stuff that I brought, like the food for example, has been vastly diminished in quantity. And the towels in the hotel weren’t all that fluffy.

Dashing out, I handed back the key to the room and was delayed for a few minutes by the local cat who finally allowed me to pick him up and stroke him. Stroking a cat is of course very good for the stress, but not if you are in a hurry to catch a train.

At the station I had to queue for hours behind people who clearly had nothing better to do on a Sunday morning (I’ve no idea why my new bank card won’t work in the self-service ticket machines of the SNCB).

I was only just in time for my train. Had it not been running 5 minutes late I would have been in difficulty.

It was one of the first generation of the “luxury” second-class trains – the first of those from the late 1980s with comfortable individual cloth seats. And so it was a little on the tatty side with frayed edges and so on but nevertheless, very comfortable.

I settled myself in for the long haul up to Oostende. I’m treating myself to a couple of days by the seaside before I come home.

We pulled into the station at Brugge and after a while I noticed that we hadn’t pulled out again. I didn’t think much of it until I was tapped on the shoulder by the ticket collector.

It seems that there’s a problem on the line higher up and the train won’t be going any further. A bus had been provided for us.

Eventually tracking down where I was supposed to go, I joined the heaving throng crammed like sardines into an old De Lijn service bus that whisked us up the motorway at 49mph. And was I happy when the doors opened and we could all alight?

The beautiful summer’s day that we had had in Leuven had now descended into a grey overcast sky but it will take much more than this to dampen my ardour. I set off to find my hotel, stopping on the way to pick up a baguette and being given the change from a €20 note in €2 pieces because they had nothing else to hand.

As for the hotel, I had a very good price from the Hotel Neutralia – a hotel that I don’t actually know. It’s wrong to say that it’s spartan – probably “basic” is a much better word to describe it – but I’ve stayed in many worse hotels than this and paid much more money for the privilege.

The staff are very friendly and hospitable, but the downside is that the internet doesn’t reach into the bedrooms on the upper floors (like mine). You have to come down to the foyer or the bar.

With the baguette that I had bought and a few other bits and pieces that I had, I made some butties and then headed out to the beach.

Just in time to encounter a Ship of the Day – and it’s been a long time since we’ve had one of those, hasn’t it? So I scrambled across the beach onto the sea wall over there for a closer look.

She came into the harbour, did a quick lap around and promptly sailed … "dieseled" – ed … back out again.

She’s the Artevelde out of Antwerp, and is described as an offshore, tug, supply or dredging vessel, which would suggest to me that she has some connection with the offshore wind farm that we know is out there somewhere.

Despite flying the Belgian flag and being based in Antwerp she’s owned by a company called Dredging International Luxembourg.

That reminds me that last time we were here we saw in the harbour quite a few other Luxembourg ships that looked as if they had connections with the wind farm.

Built as recently as 2009, she has a gross tonnage of 5005 and so is rather big as far as a coastal vessel goes.

I walked on down to the railway station to check on the time of my train back to Brussels, passing by the fishmarket on the way.

I’m not sure now if I’ve ever taken a photo of it in the past, but here’s one to be going on with. I’ve probably mentioned that each stall is occupied by an individual trawler skipper, and the goods displayed on the slab came out of his trawler’s hold earlier in the morning.

You don’t get much fresher than that without having to go out to sea to catch it for yourself.

Outside the fish market is a pile of temporary stalls that specialise in certain seafoods.

As well as the warme wullocks that we saw on a previous occasion you can have your mosselen in case you want to make your own mosselen en fritjes, and if you aren’t careful you can get crabs too.

One of the stallholders offered me oysters. “They are a well-known aphrodisiac” he assured me.

But regular readers of this rubbish will know that that is nonsense. I had a dozen the last time that I was in the UK with Percy Penguin (who doesn’t feature in these pages half as much as she deserves) but only 9 of them worked.

I’ve never noticed this war memorial before and I can’t believe that I’ve missed it in all the times that I’ve been coming to Oostende since the early 1970s.

It’s been erected to commemorate 25 sailors of the 29th Motor Torpedo Boat Flotilla who lost their lives when an accidental fire ignited explosives aboard one of the boats and blew a total of five boats into oblivion.

Either it’s fairly new or else I’ve been walking around Oostende in a daze.

It’s not possible to miss this though, is it?

This is the Sint-Petrus-en-Pauluskerk – the Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul – in Oostende, designed by the architect Louis Delacenserie and said to be based on the cathedral at Cologne.

Despite its ancient, Gothic looks, construction of the church began in 1896 to replace an earlier one on the site that had burnt down. It was consecrated on 31st August 1908

And it wasn’t missed in either of the World Wars, suffering some damage in both. As a result, the magnificent stained glass windows in there are much more modern than the rest of the church.

And one day I’ll be walking past here with a camera when the sun is actually shining.

So down at the station. And I’ll tell you something for nothing, and that is that I am not looking forward to a train that starts out at 06:41. Whatever time will I have to be out of bed to catch that? But at least there is a train. I could have ended up at somewhere much more isolated than this.

My perambulations took me around the yacht harbour and here there were many interesting things to see.

We had the Mercator of course. She’s the centre of attraction here in Oostende in the same way that Marité is back home in Granville although she doesn’t move about quite so often.

She was designed by Adrien de Gerlache, the Belgian Antarctic explorer and author, and rigged as a barquentine.

She was built in Leith, Scotland in 1932 as a training ship for the Belgian Merchant Navy and made many successful and well-known voyages, but was impressed into the British Royal Navy in World War II as a depot ship for submarines.

It took four years for her to return to service after her demobilisation and she needed an extensive overhaul before she was considered fit enough to resume her training duties.

From 1960 she was moored “off-duty” first at Antwerp and later here in Oostende as a part-time museum. She was laid up permanently in 2013.

But never mind the Mercator for the moment. This yacht caught my eye too.

And not for the least of the reasons being that she seems to be out of Dover – not the Dover just across the English Channel but the “Dover DL” which seems to indicate the Dover that is in Delaware, across the Atlantic from here.

So what she is doing here I really have no idea. But judging by the moss and the general debris scattered about on her, she’s been here for quite a while and won’t be sailing back home any time soon.

Back on the promenade and they seem to be digging it up everywhere. and how!

With it being a Sunday there’s no-one around to ask what is going on but part of the promenade had an underground car-park, so maybe they are planning to extend that. Parking here in Oostende is very tight in the summer and with all of the alterations that seem to be going on here, there will be fewer and fewer spaces. And so a few more certainly won’t go amiss.

But then, of course, parking is expensive here. And I paid just €21:00 to come here on the train. so I’m not sure why people coming to the seaside to lounge on the beach need to come by car anyway.

Back at my hotel I had a … errr … little rest for an hour or so and then went back out onto the streets – well, the Zeedyke actually – and headed west along the promenade, grabbing a bag of fritjes from the fritkot on the corner here.

Quite a walk too – much further than I was expecting in fact. but I did go past a couple of vehicles belonging to one of my former employers. The happy (and not-so-happy) times that I had there between 1979 and 1992 with the taxi business in between and around of course.

But how times have changed. When I started there in 1979 we had Ford R1114 lightweight coaches with Plaxton Supreme bodywork. But just look today at the kind of vehicle that is being used on coach tours. Mercedes engined three-axle heavyweights.

I don’t know how people today would have managed with some of the trips that we had to do back in 1979 in the equipment that we had.

Eventually I arrived at my destination – the Versluys Arena, home of the Koninklijke VoetballKlub Oostende.

Having missed my football last night, I wasn’t going to miss another and this evening KV Oostende were at home against STVV – the Kononklijke Sint Truidense Voetballvereniging.

I don’t recall having seen either of these teams before and I’ve certainly never been to the Versluys Arena so that sounded like a good plan.

I was crammed into the “away” end with the St Truiden supporters one of whom was dressed as a Canary. It’s the nickname of the club aparently, due no doubt to the yellow and blue colours that the team wears.

The match itself was very interesting. STVV had much more of the possession in the first half but they didn’t have the technique that Oostende had. KV Oostende were certainly the better team.

The trouble with modern football is that the aim seems to be “possession” – the longer they can hang on to the ball the better. And just like every other match that I have seen, the quick ball out wide to the wingers just doesn’t seem to be an option. They seem much more willing to pass the ball back to the goalkeeper.

At half-time though, KV Oostende were 2-0 up. And just to prove my point, both goals were scored by passes “over the top” of the defenders to players running into space.

During half-time the heavens opened and we were treated to the torrential downpour to end all torrential downpours. And the second half was played in conditions into which you wouldn’t have sent out a dog.

To everyone’s surprise (the STVV supporters and probably the players too) STVV pulled a goal back. A shot from about 20 yards out took a wicked deflection off a defender and ended up in the far corner of the net with the keeper helpless to do anything about that one.

And then, with 5 minutes to go, STVV scored a most unlikely equaliser with some good passing play where a ball broke kindly foran unmarked attacker.

And in the remaining time, STVV had two excellent chances to score a winner but their attackers were unable to make any contact with the ball.

By now the rain had eased off a little and I set off on my wet and weary walk home along the promenade.

I didn’t get very far though before my attention was grabbed by this gorgeous machine.

It’s a Mercedes 220 Ponton – the Ponton being the first modern post-war body styling from Mercedes and which ran from about 1953 to the early 1960s before being replaced by the W series models (somewhere down on the farm growing in a hedgerow I have a Mercedes W123 240D).

Not exactly my favourite Mercedes – I adore the pre-war and early postwar models of course but I would settle any day of the week for one of these and I’d be glad to take this home with me in my suitcase.

My long and tiring walk home brought me past the Royal Villa of King Leopold II. He was probably the most famous King of the Belgians (the King isn’t “The King of Belgium” but “The King of the Belgians”) and under whose rule there was an opulence that has never been matched either before or since.

And he had his Royal Villa, or Summer Palace, behind that wall on the Promenade at Oostende.

I slunk into my hotel and gave myself a really good shake so as not to traipse the rain with me into the hotel. I had intended to watch a film before going to sleep but with my fitbit telling me that I had done 227% of my day’s activity and walked a total of … errr … 17.7 kms today, I decided that an early night would be a better idea.

Saturday 14th April 2018 – I HAD A REALLY …

… nice day out today, and when I finish editing the photos (because there are more than just a few) I’ll be posting them up on here so that you can see what I mean.

We started off by having had a really good sleep for once, although there wasn’t that much of it with having not gone to bed until about 01:30. And that rather set the scene for the day, I’m afraid.

But I was still up early enough, had the usual morning ritual and followed all of that with a shower and a scrub of the undies. The heater in this room has a coat-hanger above it and so anything that I wash will dry in half a day and I need to take full advantage while I’m on the road.

There was plenty to do (like catch up with last night’s blog entry and go in search of some toilet paper) until Alison came on line and told me that she was leaving home, and at the appropriate moment I wandered down to the end of the street to meet her.

Just for a change it was the E40 that we fahrn’d fahrn’d farn’d down nd crossed into Germany there, leaving the autobahn at the next exit and heading, not north to Aachen, but southwards.

Despite having issues with the SatNav, that had different ideas that I had about where we needed to go, we eventually found our destination – Auf Aderich 33, 52156 Monschau. And hereby hangs a tail.

The Dukes of Brabant controlled several small German-speaking Provinces around Eupen and Malmédy which had been incorporated into the Austrian Netherlands. But after the territorial reorganisations following the Napoleonic Wars, their Germanic heritage meant that they were incorporated into the Kingdom of Prussia.

Following the end of World War I at the Treaty of Versailles these small territories were given to Belgium as part of the War reparations.

But there was a slight problem. Due to the mountainous relief of the country here, the only rail connection that these provinces had with the rest of Belgium was via Germany. And the solution was found – that the railway line itself, known as the Vennbahn – would be ceded to Belgium too.

This produced several anomalies, in that several parts of Germany were now isolated from Germany proper by the now-Belgian railway line and despite several subsequent territorial reorganisations, this left five “enclaves” (and, historically, one “counter-enclave”) still isolated from Germany and surrounded completely by Belgium.

The railway line is no longer in existence (it’s a cycle path) but the enclaves are. And these range from town-sized enclaves down in size to just one house and garden. And here we are at the smallest enclave of them all – Auf Aderich.

And this is what we came to see – the smallest of the German enclaves into Belgian territory.

From here we headed on down the hill into Monschau.

This is a very pretty old town situated along the banks of the River Rur as it flows through a cleft in the rocks. Being situated on a fast-flowing river near to a plateau noted for its sheep, the town was famous for its many mills and cloth-weaving.

Not unnaturally, it became quite a rich town and there are dozens, if not hundreds of magnificent buildings here, built of local stone or wattle-and-daub that leave no(one in any doubt about how rich the town was in those days.

In fact, it was so rich that it was regularly looted and pillaged by all kinds of different invading armies during the turbulent years of the second millennium.

We had a coffee and went for a good wander around. Alison, who had been here on many occasions, showed me the sights.

But none of these sights was as exciting as the second-hand shop in the town that had a “dobro” guitar – the acoustic guitar with a built-in resonance speaker that was very popular with blues musicians in the 1920s and still makes an appearance today (we’ve seen many at the Harvest Jazz and Blues Festival).

I would have bought it at a heartbeat, until I noticed “made in China” stamped on the neck. So it’s not an original 1920s guitar at all but a cheap Chinese import, of no interest really to me.

We ended up back in Aachen and our favourite restaurant for a meal and a wander around – not to mention a visit to the Muller supermarket where they sell that beautiful white vegan chocolate with coconut flakes.

By the time we returned home it was too late to go to the football, which was probably just as well because I was exhausted. I sat here and vegetated for a while and then went for a walk around the block.

And then, an early night. A good sleep will do me good as I’m moving on tomorrow. Man In A Suitcase is hitting the road.

Friday 13th April 2018 – MY LANDLORD …

… back at the place d’Armes is going to die of shock when he sees how much the kitchen that I want is going to cost him.

Yes, I went to IKEA this morning to have a good nosey around. And it’s only the second-ever occasion – I think – that I’ve been to an IKEA and come away empty-handed. But that was more down to the logistics question of carrying away the stuff than a lack of willingness or of money.

On my travels last night I was dealing with giant worm, or snakes or something. Or, rather, I wasn’t – someone else was. it was all happening at a small rural railway station and this snake in the grass was upsetting people so my reckoning was that the easiest way to tackle it was to send in Terry on The Beast of Beaugut, his ride-on lawnmower, to mow the grass and if possible shred the snake. But it proved much more difficult in practice because for one reason or another the snake was refusing to co-operate.

Having had breakfast and the usual morning rituals I walked up to the bus station and leapt aboard the 358 that took me all the way to IKEA. and eventually managing to buttonhole a salesman. We sat down, had a discussion, drew up a few plans and costed it all out, and it came to … errr … a couple of coppers short of €2,000.

But that’s including a fridge, an oven and one of these two-burner ceramic hobs.

It’s not the cheapest range that they had (you really don’t want to buy that) but it’s next to it. The only concession to what I might call luxury is that there’s a brown oak-coloured work surface rather than the horrible cheap and nasty white one.

But whether he will pay for that is another story, isn’t it?

There was a massive crowd at the restaurant for lunch and it took me hours to be served. And then I wandered off for the bus, horribly late (both me, and the bus).

With not knowing the route of the bus into Brussels I ended up going round the houses and had to take a metro to the Bank.

But here we came up once more against the staggering incompetence of the bankers that I have. And it’s not like the BNP Paribas to behave like a load of bankers but even they seem to be managing it now.

They hadn’t ordered the replacement card for me like they promised (twice now) and having had the issues with various forms of proofs of address, they didn’t like the electricity bill either. They reckon that there’s some complication from their point of view about me living in France with a British passport, but I’ve been doing it now for 11 years so it totally bewilders me.

I was so taken aback by all of this that I forgot to mention the two other things that I wanted to do.

Afterwards, I went for a good wander around the city centre. I had planned to finally make it to the railway museum at Schaerbeek but once more with having had all of this messing about I ran out of time.

There was a football match this evening in Tubize – a bottom-of-the-table relegation dogfight between AFC Tubize and Union St Gilles. And for once, the trains were running kindly for me.

At Tubize, having grabbed some cash, I grabbed a bag of fritjes from the fritkot opposite the station and wandered down to the ground where I picked up a ticket.

And here we had a complication that I had not foreseen – they wouldn’t let me in with my backpack. But after a good deal of negotiation and discussion a friendly, helpful (in Belgium???) security guard offered to guard it for me at the gate and with no other option available, I accepted and in I went.

For once, at Tubize, there was adecent crowd. None of this “crowd-changes to the teams” stuff as is usual. And most of the supporters seemed to be from Union St Gilles too, for if they win they are saved from relegation and Tubize go down.

The match itself was dreadful. We had the first foul right at the kick-off and the first yellow card after just 29 seconds. The final score was 12 (I think – I lost count) yellow cards and one red and I do have to say that I didn’t disagree with any of them.

But the game was woeful. Tubize were inept and despite having many good chances they couldn’t hit the nether regions of a ruminant animal with a stringed musical instrument. Only one player, Jae-Gun Lee about whom I have commented before, looked to be of some good use, so of course they withdrew him after about 70 minutes.

And Union St Gilles were even worse. They had a couple of players whom I wouldn’t like to meet down a dark alley late at night, one of whom was the centre-forward – a big bustling, burly type. He looked quite useful as a battering ram but his team never had possession up front long enough to give him the ball. They managed just one shot on target all night – and scored!

Right at the death, Tubize won a penalty – and as is their usual form at moments like this, the St Gilles keeper saved it. Last kick of the game of course, and the jubilation from the players, officials and supporters as the ref blew for time told its own story.

It was a slow stopping train back to Leuven, packed as far as Brussels with St Gilles fans. But I eventually made it back here by about 00:45 and that’s my lot for now.

See you in the morning.

Thursday 12th April 2018 – SO HAVING BEEN …

… in bed long before 22:00 I was awoken at 02:40 with a severe attack of cramp (the first for some time, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall) and again an hour or so later for no good reason.

But if anyone thinks that I’m going to leave the comfort and safety of my stinking pit at that time of the morning they are totally mistaken. I turned over and went back to sleep;

I was off on my travels too. In a Burtons menswear shop (although it wasn’t) looking for a bright yellow jumper something like the yellow waterproof fleece that I have. And although they had some in, there was something wrong with all of them – too small, wrong colour yellow, wrong fastening and so on. And I was running around in this shop for ages, looking in all of the different crooks and nannies for what I wanted but with no success.

At the summons of the alarm I arose from the dead and we went through the usual morning ritual followed by a shower. And I threw my clothes in the shower with me and just like the Angel of the Lord who came down, I gave them all a scrub. I haven’t brought much with me so I need to do the best that i can with my clothes while I’m on my travels.

Loads of fog and mist about this morning, but seeing as I had plenty of time I walked all the way (all 4.4 kms of it) to the hospital. It’s a struggle up the long hill to there but it’s one f those things that I have to do when I can and when I’m not pushed for time.

But it’s pleasant walking over the cobbled streets watching the young female students riding their bikes over the cobbles towards the University. It can’t be good for the health – especially mine! Ohh yes -I can still chase after the women, even if I can’t remember why!

At the hospital the nurse dealing with me didn’t speak a word of English so I had my set-up interview in Flemish. I must know much more Flemish than I realise and that’s good news.

Even better news is that I seem to have lost 3kgs in weight since last month. My slow weight increase has been depressing me as much as my fatigue is, and so to see three kilos disappear is good news for me.

Sitting in my comfy chair in the public ward (dunno why I didn’t have a room) I was attended to by a different nurse who made hard work of inserting my drip-feed.

And then I was seen by a male doctor this time. Not female doctor with a bevy of beautiful students. But then you can’t have Castle Anthrax every time. But all the same – I don’t know why I came here of this is how they treat me.

it took ages for things to sort themselves out. Even I could see that the drip wasn’t working properly and when I told the nurse “that’s normal” she said. but she was back 20 minutes later when the pump started beeping that it had an airlock. And she was back a couple of other times too.

But eventually, much later than it should have been, the procedure was over. And then I had to find the doctor who had apparently forgotten me.

And my results are the same as last month – everything stable. So back in 4 weeks time. 9th May (a Wednesday) to be precise as the next day is a Bank Holiday.

On the way back I did some shopping for a couple of bits and pieces, including SHOCK HORROR some shorts. if I’m going to be lounging around on the beach this summer in the glorious hot weather that I just KNOW that we are going to have, I need to look the part.

And then to a café for a coffee to wait for Alison.

We went to our Mexican restaurant for a meal and a chat and ended up in a nice café on the old Grote Markt. later on, Alison dropped me off and here I am now ready for bed.

And I can’t say that I’m not sorry either. 145% of my day’s fitness target and it feels like it too. And I have a heavy day ahead of me tomorrow.

Wednesday 11th Aoril 2018 – SO HERE I AM ONCE MORE …

… not in the playground of my broken dreams but in a little studio in the Dekenstraat in Leuven. Didn’t that four weeks go quickly?

But at least my body clock seems to be working okay still. Despite a night that was … errr … somewhat later than I intended, I was wide-awake at 05:40 and waiting for the alarm;

Despite not having breakfast and not having a shower, I still didn’t have time to do everything that I wanted to doso the floor will have to remain unwashed until I return. But I emptied the rubbish, bleached everything that needed bleaching, cut my fingernails and changed the bedding so that I’ll have nice clean comfortable bedding when I return.

Yes, I lead such an exciting life, don’t I? At least I remembered yesterday to turn off the electricity for the heating and the hot water, even if I did forget to unplug the machinery in the kitchen. And I also forgot the opened jar of jam that I was planning to bring with me.

For some reason or other the walk to the station didn’t take as long as it usually does and I was there in less than 20 minutes. Plenty of time for a coffee and a relax as despite what happened four weeks ago, the train wasn’t in the station.

When it did come in, it was a six-carriage train instead of the usual 12-carriage train, and the seats were not reserved. We could sit anywhere we liked. I chose a seat right at the front – less distance to walk at my destination. As we know, time is pretty important when on the Traversée de Paris without Bourvil to carry your suitcase.

We were late arriving at Paris Vaugirard due to track repairs and the subsequent congestion but there was no queue at the Metro ticket window so I was through there very quickly. And even better-I convinced them to sell me a carnet of 10 tickets which means that I don’t have to queue at all for the next few weeks. And a carnet comes at a substantial discount.

The metro was reasonably painless -line 4 to the Gare de l’Est and then line 5 to the Gare du Nord and that’ll be the route for the next while until the repairs to the Gare du Nord station on line 4 are completed. It’s all getting to be quite complicated.

For the first time so far this year I was able to sit outside and eat my butties. How long this weather will last, though is anyone’s guess. We’ll be back in the snow before long.

The TGV was packed yet again but I had a good spec. And much to my disappointment we arrived 10 minutes late in Brussels.

That meant that I had missed the train that I like and had to catch the older less-comfortable one instead.

And at the place here I had to wait around for the office guy to come with the keys.

So now having been shopping at Delhaize and had my tea, I really am going for an early night. I’ve been fighting off the sleep all day and I’m about done.

I’ll be up early tomorrow though. A shower and a clothes wash and then the hospital.

Saturday 17th March 2018 – I’M BACK!

And so is Marité.

As I wearily trudged (and it was a weary trudge) up the hill to here I saw her moored at her usual anchorage. She’s been away for the winter and now that Spring is just around the corner she’s come back to resume operations.

And I for one will be checking out just what these operations are.

But “Spring is just around the corner” did I say? You wouldn’t think so because it was snowing outside this morning in Leuven when I went for my baguette and how about that for this time of the year?

Not what I would call a major snowstorm, but snow nevertheless. The thermometer on my new mobile phone showed “-1°C, feels like -7°C” and I wasn’t going to argue with that after even two minutes outside at the boulangerie – or maybe I ought so say bakker just around the corner.

Just for a change, I slept the Sleep of the Dead last night. And with having had an early night too, I felt so much better this morning.

And the new phone and new alarm did their business too, although switching it off it something of a performance.

I’d been on my travels too, loitering near the edge of the kerb as Terry turned up to pick me up. In an old FX4 and having trouble trying to make the handbrake engage. Liz shouted across that he had the sandwiches down by his side, bit all I could see was something that looked like a cardboard box all wrapped up in newspaper.

We had the usual performance this morning but I drew the line at having a shower. For some reason that I haven’t remembered, I closed the door to the bathroom last night so it was absolutely taters in there. And that was hardly a surprise given the weather.

So armed with a baguette I made my butties for the road and then having tidied up the place a little, hit the streets for the station.

They weren’t wrong about the temperature either. I was frozen to the marrow by the time that I arrived.And with the ticket machine in the basement I had to retrace my steps to the booking office.

On the platform waiting for the train we were entertained by a photographer across the tracks who was organising a photo shoot with a little girl aged about 6, dressed in clothing that was completely unsuitable for the Arctic conditions.

The poor kid looked as if she was freezing to death over there and I can’t say that I was surprised.

I didn’t have to wait too long though. There was an Intercity train for Blankenberge due in, which was handy, and so I hopped aboard. And it was heaving too.

It looked as if everyone in Belgium was heading off for a day at the seaside regardless of the weather. I ws crammed in rather uncomfortably next to three people who were watching videos on their phones at full volume, and that didn’t half get on my wick.

But it was only for half an hour or so, which was just as well. I wouldn’t have put up with that for a three-hour journey.

No excitement at the Gare du Midi today either. No-one arrested and no train derailed either. In fact nothing to laugh at at all.

And crowded too. You couldn’t even have got a cat on board the TGV, never mind swung one around. It’s getting to be more and more popular this as summer approaches – not that you would ever recognise summer in this weather of couree.

I spent most of the journey with my ears closed to keep out the noisy brats and – shame as it is to day it these days – with my eyes closed too.

I know. I’m in a bad way.

We were minutes late arriving in the Gare du Nord and that’s crucial. I’m tight for time and even more so now that the line metro station is closed here. The deviation that I took on the way out took me about minutes, and that’s all the time that I had available so I took an executive decision (that’s a decision where, if it goes wrong, the person who made it is executed).

I took the line 5 as far as the Gare de l’Est nd then leapt on the line 4 train there and braved the long walk. It ended up being quicker than via the Porte d’Italie which wa good news and I reached my platform with 10 minutes to spare, totally out of breath.

In the freezing cold we rattled off to Granville, with me yet again sleeping most of the way.

And it was a long weary journey where we crawled at snail’s pace on the stretch between Argentan and Briouze. I was pretty much fed up by the time that we arrive back in Granville.

My OAP railcard expires in April so I took the opportunity to renew it. €50:00 for a year but you’ve no idea how much it saves me in discount. I couldn’t afford to do this trip if I had to pay full fare for it.

And then the long trudge back home into the cold, where I switched on the heating and made a coffee.

Tea was pasta and vegetables tossed in oil, garlic powder and chili. All of that followed by a walk outside. I’m on 111% of my daily activity and it feels like it too.

So tonight it’s back into my warm bed. And aren’t I looking forward to it?

Friday 16th March 2018 – AND SO, AFTER …

… all of my exertions, I was awake quite early this morning.

And although last night was still a tossy-turny affair, it wasn’t as bad as the previous one. And I was on my travels too – heading for home on the bus (the n°11 as it happened) from stoke on Trent, so work that one out. And I was going home to “sort out” a few things and a few people over my taxi business. There had been some considerable discussion about how inconvenient the buses were, but i’d insisted that they were more convenient than people think. As the bus turned from Ruskin Road into Gainsborough Road (good, these buses, aren’t they?) I saw TOTGA standing on the corner. I made a gesture indicating that I wanted her to follow on down, but she gave a blank look. Suddenly, it turned into a flash of recognition. The bus stopped right outside my front door (I’d explained to the driver where I had lived but he knew anyway) and the whole house was in darkness. That was weird for 19:30 on a Wednesday evening when we had the taxis and I’d certainly have words about this. But even with dropping me off at my front door I had a long walk home and it was a weary, tiring trudge, what with my illness, all down along Coppenhall Land towards The Playing Fields I was on the track through the woods and there hanging in the trees was a towel that looked very much like my old blue one, and as I followed the path I had to cross onto the road but someone had planted a hedge in the way and I had to climb over it. It took me two attempts too. But I was so tired and weary that I realised that I couldn’t go on and my business would have to go.

after the usual morning performance, I had a little … errr … relax on the armchair. I’m really not doing this, am I?

And it took me quite a while to come round as well. I must have been out. In fact it took me until about 11:00 before I was in any kind of state to leave the room.

Halfway down the road I realised that I had forgotten my prescriptions – so that meant that I would have to come out again this afternoon.

My perambulations took me down and across the Ladeuzeplein, where my progress was arrested by these goings-on.

I’m not sure what it was that they were trying to do – except building a wall to presumably keep out illegal Mexicans, but they are using piles of crates that belong to that well-known manufacturer of iced tea, all of which had been brought to the Square by a large fleet of lorries.

So shrugging my shoulders, I continued on my way.

First stop was at Kruidvat, for a pile of gelatine-free sweets, and then to Wibra. I’d seen some good microwave steamers last time that I was here. Not very substantial and probably won’t last all that long. But that’s not going to be much of an issue because I probably won’t either.

But star of the show was in the FNAC. As you know, I’ve been having mobile phone issues since December and I ended up with a cheap Chinese import. And cheap was the appropriate word too. It does work but it was only ever going to be a stop-gap until I could find something better.

And so when they had some Samsung J3s on sale for a price less than I could have had one with a renewed contract, and when I negotiated another €20 off it too, I’ve now ended up with that. and the exciting thing about it is that with me having saved my settings on the old Samsung phone, this new phone simply downloaded everything as soon as I logged in, and it’s just like my old phone now.

Back here with a baguette and a tomato and some vegan cheese, I made myself some lunch. And then back out again.

And I was halfway down the road when I realised that I had forgotten my prescription yet again. I did a little wander around though, bought a tin of spicy beans from Delhaize for tea and then came back here.

Rounding up the prescription, I went back out and rounded up the medicaments.

Tea was baked spuds and spicy beans, and then I went for a little walk. And the temperature which had really been so nice today, had now plummeted. Snow is forecasted, but I might miss it.

Now it’s an early night. I have a train to catch back home in the morning.

Thursday 15th March 2018 – I DIDN’T ENJOY …

… that one little bit. Not at all.

And it all went wrong right from the beginning when I hardly had any sleep at all. I spent most of the night tossing and turning and that clearly didn’t get me off to the best possible start.

But nevertheless, I was up and about just as the first alarm was going off and after the usual medication and breakfast, I had a shower and washed my clothes. I need to look pretty for the hospital.

There were a few tasks that I needed to do before I went and then I wandered around the corner for the bus.

6 minutes late it was too, and we had something of a performance as there wasn’t enough money left on my card. So that involved some negotiations with another card.

At the hospital they checked me in and informed me of the change in tariffs (that doesn’t concern me of course) and then I went to the wrong room, so they had to come to look for me.

The needle went in the tube in my chest totally painlessly – yes, it was the former Belgian ladies’ darts champion who was nursing me today. And then she gave me the treatment.

As well as the saline drip I had four bottles of Multigam 5%. That’s a stimulant made from human plasma and it attacks the viruses that I seem to have and builds up my immunity. Five hours it’s supposed to take.

It was OK for the first couple of hour but then I started to feel the cold in my veins and it sent the shivers right through me. Not as bad as when I had the chemotherapy but horrible none the less. I had to wrap up in all my clothes.

The doctor – a young girl – came to see me and so did a skin specialist – likewise a young girl escorted by two even younger female students. It all ended up like the scene at Castle Anthrax.

And then I went to sleep.

The nurse awoke me to say that it was finished. And so was I. She unplugged me and told me that I could go but I was in no fit state to leave. I had to stay there on the bed for a good 20 minutes.

I made it to reception though. My next appointment is April 12th – likewise a Thursday.

And so I sat downstairs for a while and then came home. It was pouring down with rain outside but I walked back all the same. I bought some potatoes and tinned ratatouille for tea from Delhaize, and some vegan cheese and vegan sausages from The Loving Hut – I fancy some sausages and cauliflower cheese when I return home.

Soaked to the skin, I vegetated here for a while in the warm and then had my tea.

And later on in the evening I went out for a walk. The rain had eased off and I wanted to pass the 100%on the fitbit.

There’s the Philipssite complex just down the road from here and I’d never been to see what goes on there so I went for an amble around.

That building there is actually a Sports Centre of some kind and there were hordes of people disgorging themselves into the street as I went past. I was tempted to go in for a look around but I didn’t feel up to staying out.

There are offices there too because I knew someone once who worked there.

Quite a few, in fact, all nicely illuminated in the evening which probably costs someone a small fortune.

And I found the police station too. There’s quite a big one on the site, And and underground car park too – I didn’t know about that

So I’ll have an early night. Tomorrow I’ll be gathering my strength – what’s left of it.

Wednesday 14th March 2018 – SO HERE I AM …

… in my little studio in the Dekenstraat.

It’s smaller than the previous room, and what that means is that there is much less of it to heat and I’m all in favour of that.

And as far as I’m concerned, it’s a better room too. And considering that it’s a good few Euros cheaper, I’m more-than-satisfied with this.

I’ve been down to the Delhaize and bought some food, so tonight I had baked potatoes and a tin of Fajita beans for tea. Delicious it was too and now I’m alls et up for bed.

Talking of bed, I was bang awake this morning, right on the button at … errrr … 06:00. The old body clock seems to be doing just fine right now.

And that was something of a surprise seeing that I’d been on a rather unpleasant voyage. I was in my garden, back in Vine Tree Avenue of all places, doing some work there (not like me, is it?) and two boys came past. They started to throw coconuts up to the eaves of the house to see if they could knock down some more that were festooned across the front of the house (it all happens during the night, doesn’t it?) so I told them to clear off. They carried on doing it however and one of the coconuts fell down, missing me by about half an inch. So I told them yet again to clear off. They carried on and when yet another fell down right by me I manhandled … "PERSONhandled" – ed … them off the premises. They then started to mess about with the tyres of my car (a Ford Cortina mk III) and we ended up having something of what the French call a bagarre. I went to phone for the Police but they told me that I was wasting my time. There was one of me and two of them, I couldn’t prove anything and they would say that I attacked them in an unprovoked fashion.

So almost (but not quite – I wasn’t in THAT much of a hurry) beating the first alarm I set about making my sandwiches, preparing my … errr … samples (and I still can’t make this vacuum pump thing work no matter what I try) and SHOCK HORROR doing some cleaning up. That’s not something that happens every day, is it?

The rubbish went out to the bin outside and there was even some time left over to do a little work on the laptop.

On my way up the hill to the station I made an unexpected encounter of some very expansive woman who told me that she had booked to go to Tunisia and that her friend had let her down and would I like to go with her. And all the time I was thinking to myself “are they open already?

Even more of a surprise – although I arrived 25 minutes before the train was due to leave, it was actually waiting in the station and so grabbing a quick coffee, I grabbed my place on board and in the warmth.

And here I breakfasted on the coffee and the biscuits that I had brought with me from home (due to certain inconveniences, I don’t have my medication and breakfast at home when I’m setting out early on my travels).

And it was round about here that I realised that I had forgotten my headphones. I’ll have to use these earpieces and I hate those.

But at Avranches I perked up a little. Glancing out of my window I saw a “shed”, or “Wisconsin”, or “Red Death”, whichever nickname you prefer.

The notorious unreliability of British-built diesel locomotives caused the British railway operators to look elsewhere for their motive power and the “English, Welsh and Scottish” railfreight company went across the Atlantic to General Motors who supplied the EMD Class 66.

They proved to be so reliable in operation that more and more were brought over, leading to the scrapping to much of the native fleet. And as rail freight in the UK declined, some were sold abroad and regular readers of this rubbish will recall a few years ago that we saw one, still in its EWS livery, pulling a freight train in France.

They were so successful over here too that the SNCF ordered some for itself. these are called “Type 77” and they differ from the UK ones in that, inter alia, they are equipped with air conditioning, a microwave and fridge, and a comfortable (!) seat.

But don’t ask me if this a British import or a “77” because I can’t tell from here.

We were late leaving Granville but we arrived at Paris Montparnasse Vaugirard on time. And now I had to negotiate my way to Paris Gare du Nord via a new route, with the metro station on Route 4 being closed.

The new “revised” journey on the metro via the Porte d’Italie is rather longer – it takes about 50 minutes to go round instead of 42 or 43 minutes and I hope that that isn’t going to be crucial for the return journey. It is rather tight for time on the way back.

And there seems to be a change to SNCF policy too. We noticed the train being parked up at the platform at Granville station this morning instead of parked up in a siding and arriving with five minutes to go.

And here at Paris Gare du Nord the boarding gates were open for the TGV almost as soon as it pulled in, rather than 10 minutes prior to departure. That gave us ample time to take our seats and it was all quite comfortable.

But we had the “flying customs” patrol on the platform and true to stereotype they picked on a passenger of African descent. I would have bet the mortgage on that one, as I’m sure that you would have done too.

Despite having had a little doze on the way into Paris, that didn’t stop me from having another little doze on the way to Brussels. I’m really feeling it these days.

In Brussels, I missed the 15:52 train to Leuven due to issues with the ticket machine, so I had to wait for the one at 16:03.

That was an old-generation train with the plastic bench seats in a 3-plus-2 configuration so it wasn’t very comfortable. But it brought us here all the same, and at quite a rapid speed too so I didn’t complain too much..

And then the trudge up the road to the Condo Gardens

And so, here I am in my little room. I’ll have a good sleep, with a shower in the morning ready for my treatment. And I’m not looking forward to that.

Sunday 18th February 2018 -FOR A REASON …

… that I didn’t understand at first, I slept the Sleep Of The Dead last night.

But I awoke with a start at about 06:40. I realised that I had changed the time of the alarm yesterday so I knew that it wasn’t yet time to awaken, but after about two minutes it hit me that today is Sunday and the alarm was programmed not to ring. And so instead of the usual Sunday morning procedure where I try my best not to awaken, we had the opposite procedure with me trying not to go back to sleep.

And then another thought hit me too.

All throughout the night there had been complete and utter silence from next door. I hadn’t awoken once. Perhaps they weren’t out partying last night at all, but had left the place yesterday morning.

I wondered whether to do a lap of honour.

I’d been on my travels too. Nina, a former girlfriend of mine, was to put in an appearance and so I needed to tidy up Caliburn, especially the back if a little session of indoor alligator wrestling (unlikely) were to take place. I also had to do some more tidying up elsewhere and this involved Dismantling the hi-fi system. Some woman helped me do this because it wasn’t easy, with cables, headphone leads and all of this kind of thing all tangled up into some kind of spaghetti mess that we were desperately endeavouring to sort out.

So with my noisy neighbours apparently having left yesterday, and having had a good night’s sleep as a result (and about time too) I was ready for anything.

Well, almost.

I made a mistake in the boulangerie. To me, a baguette is a baguette, but apparently not in Leuven. Had Jesus ordered five of the ones that were given to me there would have been no miracle about feeding the 5000. I have enough to feed myself for a week.

I took my leave of the guy at the hotel. He asked me if I’d enjoyed my stay. I explained the issues that I’d had with my neighbours and he pulled a face. I told him that I would see him in a few weeks time, and hopefully he would have a quieter room for me…

Emerging from the alleyway at the back of the hotel (to save walking all the way round the block) I burst out laughing when I saw the boulangerie.

We’ve all seen (and some of us have stood in) the queues outside the bakers’ shops in Poland and Bulgaria, places like that under the Communists. And here in Belgium we have exactly the same situation.

Of course, maybe not for the same reasons, but it’s amusing nevertheless to see it.

My luck was in at Leuven station. The earlier express to Brussels was held up while they endeavoured to negotiate a wheelchair and its occupant aboard, and so I leapt on board too.

There’s no doubt whatever that the guy was disabled, but when I saw him a little later walking around the train I thought that he might have given the porter at the station a little more help. But then, that might have meant that the train would have left earlier and I would have had a cold and miserable wait on the station for the next train.

And I managed to drop my woolly hat – the one that goes on my woolly head – in the train and some woman shouted after me as I was about to alight.

And although it was a cold and miserable wait in the waiting room at Bruxelles-Midi, at least we had some entertainment. For police officers manhandling … "PERSONhandling" – ed … two boys out of the restricted area. “I didn’t steal anything” wailed one of the boys but the police are the same the whole world over and took no notice whatsoever.

The TGV previous to mine had been 10 minutes late but my train actually pulled in early, which made a nice change, and so I was one of the first to clamber aboard which is always helpful.

Old, tired and a little tatty around the edges. And the train wasn’t much better either. These first-generation TGVs have done quite a lot of work.

There were a surprising number of empty seats too – probably 80 or 85% occupancy. My experience of TGVs is that they are usually packed to the gunwhales.

We arrived at Paris Gare du Nord bang on schedule, which is just as well seeing that my train to Granville has been advanced half an hour because of the engineering works on the line. There’s no time to loiter.

But even more importantly, I arrived totally intact with nothing else missing from my trousseau. That makes a change after the events of the past few weeks.

But this train thing is going to become an issue in early course. They have a rolling programme of modernisation of the stations along Line 4 – the direct line between Paris Gare du Nord and Paris Montparnasse-Vaugirard. And on 17th March the platforms on the line here will be taken out of service.

There’s always an alternative route, like Line 5 to the Place d’Italie and then Line 6, but it’s complicated and takes much longer. And time is tight.

And in case you’re wondering, it is a different train from the one that I photographed in Brussels. Our train was made up of two train sets coupled together and they were of different classes.

I arrived at Paris Montparnasse-Vaugirard and my waiting room with 20 minutes to spare. And found a seat next to a girl from California who spoke French with a remarkably good accent.

You’ll remember last time I was here and the “incident” involving the woman and her mother. Here, we had quite an ugly incident where a couple arrived after boarding for their train had completed but before it had left, and they were refused admission to the platform. The abuse, insults and vitriol that they were giving the staff was outrageous.

Just to make things clear, it states quite definitely on your ticket that you should be present on the platform no later than 2 minutes before the departure time, and I’m sure that people don’t realise just how much of a walk it is to Vaugirard. Apart from the 1.3 kilometres of foot passage from the Metro (I’ve measured it), the platforms at Vaugirard are right down at the end of Montparnasse’s Platform 23, which is a very long platform. It’s a marathon hike and you won’t do it all in a couple of minutes.

Eventually we could board our train so I took my leave of my companion and had another nice travelling companion for some of the way home.

I left my seat though a couple of miles out because at a certain point there’s a really good view of the Eiffel Tower and I wanted to get an eiffel of it.

It’s not come out very clearly because there’s only so much possibility with a swaying train and a camera shot through a dirty double-glazed window.

After my companion left I settled down to my butties and then dozed almost all the way to Granville.

We arrived on time, which is late these days because of the engineering works, and I had to help a woman with her suitcase (what help would I be?) as she struggled with a screaming infant.

And then through the drizzly rain (quite a change from the weather in Paris) I had a weary, dreary walk home. It’s definitely taking a lot out of me. If my health deteriorates further (which it’s bound to do) I’ll have to remember not to come home on a Sunday. The buses don’t run on Sunday.

Back here after I eventually arrived, I crashed out on the sofa with a coffee and was out of it completely until about 20:30. I missed tea of course, but I did have a bag of nuts and raisins.

And with the fitbit telling me that I’ve done 80% of my day’s activity, I crawled out of the apartment for a lap around the old town. When I came back I was on 102% so that’s enough for today.

I’ve done enough. I’m off to bed where I shall sleep for a week.

Saturday 17th February 2018 – I’M A MISERABLE PLEADER.

Yes, I’m definitely losing my touch.

Maybe it’s trying to do it in Flemish that’s the problem, but on the other hand being a miserable ignorant foreigner who has travelled for for no avail usually works wonders.

But retournons to our moutons as they say back home.

Yet another miserable night as my neighbours awoke me when they returned home at 02:00 and carried on their party until 04:00 or whatever. And as I have said before, it’s not really their noise that’s the issue – it’s more the fact that i’m a light sleeper and the walls are very thin.

I compensated by setting the alarms for 07:30 and 07:40 instead of the usual time one hour earlier. After the medication and breakfast, I had a shower and change of clothes and then attacked a few things that needed my attention.

Alison came through at 10:30. She was just about to leave home so that gave me 15 minutes to gather up my wits (it doesn’t usually take me that long these days as you know) and go to loiter on the corner at the end of the street.

She arrived on time and we hit the road for our day out. She had made several suggestions as to where to go (I always have this problem of people telling me where to go) but the one that stood out above all of the others was Aachen of course – in Germany.

The thing that I like about living in Belgium is that you have a choice of four countries – France, Luxembourg, Germany and the Netherlands – on your doorstep. Luxembourg at 100 minutes is the farthest away and the rest are a lot closer than that.

The weather wasn’t what I expected though. Considering that it was Germany in February I was hoping for sub-zero temperatures and several feet of snow. Instead, we had a glorious Spring day with a beautiful blue sky.

I felt rather disappointed.

Alison is off skiing in a few days so she wanted to look at some of the clothing in the big Sports shop on the edge of the city centre. So that was to be our first port of call

But we were distracted by a café that we hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t the vegan options on offer but the fact that sitting in the window were four rather large cats.

This place is called the “Katzencafé” and the idea is that you can go in there for a coffee and cuddle a kitten. And on chatting to a few friends later I was told that there are these cat cafés springing up all over the place these days. I’m all in favour of that idea of course except that these cats were rather aloof.

Still never mind. The coffee was good and we enjoyed the company.

There was nothing that took Alison’s fancy in the Sports shop (at least, not at a reasonable price, that is) and so we went up the road to the Muller supermarket where I bought some more of that white vegan chocolate that I like

We found a square that we hadn’t noticed before where there was a good view of the rear of the town hall and the rear of the cathedral.

I’d not seen the town hall from this angle before, and I do have to say that it was quite impressive.

As an aside … "you’ll get used to this" – ed … the German for "Town Hall" is Rathaus, which is rather appropriate, as I’m sure you’ll all agree.

Our new little route took us on an exploration of the city in places that we hadn’t visited and past sites that I hadn’t previously seen. And that’s always good news.

And to my delight, I discovered a Bio shop that sold the very brand of vegan cheese that I like. They only had two packs of it though, and now they don’t have any at all.

I also discovered a huge model railway shop and we passed a good half-hour in there. I would love to have a little N-gauge layout back at home, but not at the prices they are asking. There was an HO/OOgauge Big Boyof the type that we all know and love and which was on sale at an astonishing €2599.

Passing via several other shops we made it to the Source where I had another drink of the hot sulphuric water. It tastes disgusting of course, but there’s no point in going to the Waters if you have no intention of taking them, even if you have been misinformed.

Unfortunately there wasn’t all that much of a photo opportunity seeing that the building was cluttered with pedestrians and street furniture and the like. I shall have to come along here at 05:00, and bring a Stihl Saw with me too.

The market stall that was selling those delicious fennel-flavoured sweets last time – that wasn’t here today which was bad news. And although our walk was quite interesting there wasn’t really all that much to see that was exciting.

And so, feeling the cold and the exhaustion and the hunger, we detained to the little restaurant that we know – the one by the Roman remains. Alison had a spicy chicken meal and I had the quinoa salad.

Being duly fed and watered, we set off for a slow wander back to the car. But Alison drew my attention to the rays of the early evening sun that were just catching the clock tower right by the town hall.

Alison reckoned that it was worth a photograph, and who was I to argue with that?

Back in the car we headed for Leuven in the early evening sunset – our journey being interrupted by the scenic tour of the roadworks halfway along the highway. And when I arrived back I had a coffee and a little … errr … relax.

Round about 19:30 I set off for the football ground. OH Leuven were playing KFCO Beerschot-Wilrijk, a team that I have yet to see, so I was quite looking forward to the match.

But hereby hangs a tale.

With there having been “certain incidents” in the past, the whole ground and surrounding streets were surrounded by police and admission was by prebooked ticket only. And no amount of pleading on my part would convince anyone at all – Police, admission booth, security staff, stadium management (yes, I got to see them all) would change their minds.

Of course, arguing with Belgian administration – particularly from a position of weakness – is a pointless argument as anyone who has ever tried it will tell you. But you have to go through the motions anyway – I don’t give up without a fight.

However in this case, I was singularly unsuccessful and repaired to a bar across the street where several other people, including someone who had come from Italy, in the same position as me were gathered to watch the match on television.

I’ve never understood the fascination for watching football on TV. Yes, fair enough if it’s the only way of seeing a game, but it’s nothing like watching the match in the flesh – nothing at all. There’s no atmosphere for a start, and the focus of the camera cuts out all of the interesting stuff going on in the background.

So at the final whistle, I headed back home again in the cold – to total silence next door. Perhaps they are out partying and they’ll be back at something silly like 03:00. So I’m going to bed quick and grab a couple of hours sleep.

Friday 16th February 2018 – MY NEIGHBOURS …

… are getting on my wick.

I dunno what they are doing in their room but involves noise – noise that goes on until 04:00 in the morning.

It’s not as if it’s a very loud noise but the walls are paper-thin here and as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I’m a very light sleeper.

And so with my noisy neighbours next door, I had no qualms whatever about my very noisy alarm going off at 06:20 this morning. Or the noisy repeat at 06:30.

But despite everything I was off on my travels during the night.In a shed where a group of young kids had barricaded themselves in to protect themselves against some kind of monster. But they had left their pony outside in its stable in the field and someone was wondering if they should protect that too. But another kid piped up that if you spread out your forces too thinly to try to protect everything you end up protecting nothing. So they didn’t. And the monster’s attack on this shed was very half-hearted and the pony was unscathed.
A little later, these kids were looking for their black kitten that had escaped. The search involved wading up to their knees in some very muddy water much to the amusement of some nearby workmen, and this became even more amusing when one of the kids had made it into the water and the kitten was spotted running across the top of a brick wall nearby.

After breakfast and the usual pause to let the medication do its stuff (yes, I obtained another prescription when I was at the hospital) I went off to the railway station.

There was an Intercity to Brussels that was running late, and it pulled into the station just as I arrived so I leapt on board and settled down in a comfortable corner with my book.

And as a result of the late arrival of the train, I for one arrived in Brussels at the Gare Central before time, which is always very nice.

The metro was quite painless too – took me all the way to Merode in minutes.

Consequently I was early at my health insurance people, even though we had another distraction.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I have a thing about “parking”, and there are no finer examples of bad parking to be had than in Brussels.

Here we have a delivery van stopped to unload a couple of parcels and so he’s blocking the street as he double-parks.

But hed he not been so lazy, he could have advanced not even 10 metres and parked his van for two minutes in front of the dark blue Peugeot.

But obviously walking that extra 10 metres is far too difficult for the poor dear.

So back to the plot.

I presented myself at the reception.
“You’ll have to wait – it’s not 09:30 yet”
“But …”
“You’ll have to wait”.
And so I waited
At 09:29 “it’ll be open in a minute. Can you show me your badge?”
“I don’t have a badge – I’m a foreign visitor”
“Then you’ll need to go to reception to fill in a form”.
“I know. That’s what I was trying to do when you stopped me”

Eventually I was allowed in and, to be frank, I needn’t have bothered. When I’ve been there before, they’ve been most kind and considerate in that office.

But not today. I dunno what’s the matter with them but they just seemed to be more keen to see the back of me. I didn’t accomplish half of the things that I intended to do.

But instead, I went for awalk across the park and down to the Rond-Point Schuman. It was a beautiful morning.

The park is the Parc de la Cinquantenaire – the 50th Anniversary Park, and was established by King Leopold II in 1880 (although the huge arch wasn’t built until 1905) on the site of a military parade ground for the nearby barracks, to host an exhibition to celebrate 50 years of Belgian independence.

Several subsequent exhibitions were held here until the new site out by the Atomium was developed.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I have mentioned parrots in Belgium before.

There was an aviary in the city that was bombed during the war and all of the exotic birds escaped. Surprisingly, many of them survived the cold winters and went on to establish breeding colonies in the wild.

There are considerable flocks of these exotic birds all over the city these days, and here are two of the aforementioned sitting in a tree in the park. It’s hard to believe that this is a city in north-west Europe with a continental climate.

At the bank I picked up two of my cards (for some reason the third hadn’t been prepared and I’ll have to go back) and even more surprisingly, they work. That’s all of my financial issues resolved right now – for the time being. I can actually access my money now.

Back down on the metro to the Gare Centrale and Malou turned up on time.She’d been out on the Belgian coast for a holiday and was returning to Luxembourg. We’d agreed to meet up for coffee seeing as it’s been years since we last met.

We put the world to rights for a couple of hours and then we both went our separate ways. She on to Luxembourg and me back to Leuven.

There were still a few things that I had wanted to do here in Brussels like visit the railway museum, and this was what I had planned for this afternoon. But having had a bad night, I came home instead.

Via the Vegan shop in Leuven where I picked up some more vegan cheese. I came back here, made myself a cheese and tomato butty or two, and then … errr … relaxed for a while. I’d had a bad night.

18:00 saw me head off to the railway station for my train at 18:36. And because it was departing before 19:00 I had to pay full price and not a weekend saver ticket.

And the train was 20 minutes late coming in and – would you believe – 23 minutes later still in leaving (just missing the 45 minutes-late threshold for compensation) Which meant that I could have bought a weekend saver anyway.

We arrived in Lier 45 minutes late which meant that I had to scramble over the road for my big bag of chips for tea, and then scramble off in a hurry down the road to Het Lisp.

No prizes for guessing why I had come to Lier, of course.

There’s one game in the Belgian Second Division on a Friday night every week, and this week it’s the turn of Lierse SK against KSV Roeselare.

Lier is easily accessible from Leuven even late at night (or early in the morning) so it’s always a good choice of ground to visit.

With KSV Roeselare being the visitors, I was hoping that we might have the Battle of the Cheerleaders.

Both teams have cheerleaders, which is always very good for the morale, but I do have to say that the young ones of Roeselare can knock spots off the home team. Much better organised and much better choreographed.

But no such luck. It was just the Lierse SK cheerleaders here tonight. It’s better than nothing of course.

Cheerleaders we might have, but fans we didn’t seem to.

I’ve been to Lier and the Het Lisp Stadion on several occasions to see the football, but I don’t think that I’ve seen the ground as empty as this.

It’s not quite the “announcing the fan changes to the teams” that you have at Tubize, but it was disappointing all the same. And there wasn’t much in the way of atmosphere to compensate. It was all very subdued.

The supporters weren’t the only thing that was subdued either. The Lierse SK team played like they were half asleep. They had little enthusiasm, little attacking spirit and, so it seemed, little interest.

Strangely enough, Roeselare didn’t seem to be in all that much of an attackign mood either, content to move the ball around ahead of the defence.

It wasn’t until about the 25th minute when they first tried the ball over the top. And a player running in shot, the keeper could only parry it, and a Roeselare attacker followed up.

Roeselare still kept on pouring forward, and much to everyone’s surprise Lierse SK scored against the run of play.

Well into the second hald, the first time they tried one over the top and won a corner. From the corner we had a carbon copy of Roeselare’s goal.

The match still went on at a pedestrian pace from Lierse SK’s point of view and with about 10 minutes to go, Roeselare were awarded a penatly – which was saved.

This had the effect of switching on the current to the Lierse SK side and they started to attack. The final 10 or so minutes of the game were quite exciting.

In stoppage time, Lierse won a series of corners and had two (dubious) appeals for a penalty turned down. And so as you might expect, Roeselare roared upfield and scored the winner with almost the final kick of the game.

I was back on the station just in time to catch the earlier direct train to Leuven, which cheered me up no end. So I was back here before midnight.

But my neighbours are partying again. I think that it’s going to be another long night.

Thursday 15th February 2018 – THAT’S NOT SUCH GOOD NEWS

My blood count is now down to the critical level – almost.

It should be between 13.0 and 15.0 as you know, but recently it’s been hovering round about the 9.2 mark.

8.0 is the critical amount when the emergency services swing into action, and today it’s down to 8.2.

This should come as no surprise to anyone who has been following my adventures over the last few weeks. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I was quite ill over Christmas and New Year and I’m still not back up yet.

So that plan now is that I’m going to have to undergo a series of blood transfusions – one per month in fact, for the next 6 months “and then we’ll see”.

That’s going to disrupt all of my plans.

Last night the old plan worked a charm. I took the laptop with me to bed to watch a Bulldog Drummond film in bed. And I managed about 10 minutes of it before I was away with the fairies.

And off on my travels too. Quite literally. I’d moved house and was living in a completely different town. And a letter came from one of the other inhabitants of my old place telling me how she knew about my relationship with the postwoman. I took hours to craft a very non-committal reply and was on the point of sending it when I thought to myself that it was easily open to misinterpretation nevertheless, and the easiest way to deal with the matter, seeing as whatever had happened in the past was to totally ignore the letter. And so I did. And instead I went for a walk and much to my surprise at the end of the High Street, which I hadn’t explored before, the road took a steep drop down to a nice bay where there were crowds of people having fun in the water. I went off for a look around and ended up on a grassy bank. Somehow I wasn’t able to reach the water at all.

Just for a change I was up quite early, and with no medication (because I had forgotten it as you know) I had an early breakfast and then a shower. And while I was under there I washed my clothes too.

After doing a few things I hit the streets and the shops. But I found another part of the old city walls that I hadn’t discovered previously, and so I followed them around for a while.

First stop was Kruidvat for some gelatine-free sweets, and then to the cheap shops like Zeeman and Wibra for a new jumper, but there was nothing doing.

At Sports Direct though, there were some more of the trousers that I like, but also some good-quality jumpers at a reduced price of €14:00 each, or 2 for €24:00. So they disappeared into my backpack along with a couple of pairs of trousers.

On the way up to the hospital I stopped at the bar to see if the guy who runs it whom I know was there, but he wasn’t. So I went on my way up the hill – very slowly.

You know what happened at the hospital because I told you just now, and then a very depressed and fed-up me headed into town. Alison wasn’t ready so I went for a coffee until she appeared.

We went to la Cucaracha and had another Mexican like last time, which was just as delicious, and then round for a coffee.

Afterwards she drove me back here which was very kind of her, and that’s my day finished.

It’s all so disappointing, but so what? I just have to get on with it. No point in brooding on it. Just like the defendant who found out that the judge of his case was only four feet tall – “these little things are sent to try us”.

Wednesday 14th February 2018 – I MADE IT …

… to Leuven without any disaster or without losing anything. So that has to be something to celebrate.

But it seems that I’ve forgotten to bring my medication, I forgot to turn off the water heater, and I seem to have omitted to bring with me the letter telling me the time of my appointment.

So we’re still going true to form, aren’t we?

never mind 06:00 – I was awake at 03:30. But of course there was no danger of my ever leaving my bed at that time. I must have gone back to sleep though because the alarm awoke me at 06:00 and I was out of bed before the second one went off.

Just for a change I didn’t take my medication – I need to be on the move quite smartly – so I had an early breakfast, tidied up somewhat and then took the rubbish to the bin outside.

Everything in the apartment was cleaned and bleached where appropriate, and I did some last minute packing before I hit the streets.

Just for a change it wasn’t raining and it only took me 25 minutes to make the station. So I had plenty of time to loiter around, and with the new touchpad on the coffee machine I could even have a coffee.

Now here’s a thing. On the train I had a bad attack of nausea and I’ve no idea why. But it soon cleared up and strangely enough I felt so much better as we sped through the snow to Paris.

Paris was surprisingly quiet and I was at the Gare du Nord in a new record of 40 minutes, and that included stopping to buy the tickets for the metro. I bought two – one for the return because I’m stuck for time on the return as regular readers of this rubbish will recall.

At the Gare du Nord I could eat my butties, and it’s bad news that the baguette that I bought yesterday didn’t last as well as the usual one that I buy and which was sold out.

Surprise, surprise! The TGV was half an hour late leaving Paris and we didn’t make up the time on the journey either. But it didn’t matter because at Brussels-Midi I only had enough time to buy a rail ticket to Leuven before an Inter-City express pulled in.

It’s freezing here – absolutely taters. And the heater in my little flat-hotel (which, for a change, has the bed upstairs) could be better.

But I had a coffee and then hit the shops. The Delhaize about 15 minutes walk away came up with stuff that I need while I’m staying here. And tea was baked potatoes with a tin of curried vegetables. Once I’d sorted out the electricity issues, I could make the microwave work.

Delicious it was too.

So now I’m off for an early night. I’ve done 124% of my daily exercise routine so I’m quite happy with that.

Tomorrow, we shall see what we shall see.

Saturday 16th December 2017 – AND AS BARRY HAY …

… once famously said – “there’s one thing that I want to tell you, man, and that it’s goof to be back home”.

Mind you, I nearly didn’t make it, because I didn’t have a very good day.

Sherlock Holmes – or rather Arthur Wontner – did the trick last night. I managed about 2 minutes of the film before I was away with the fairies. All of my walking – 155% of my daily exercise – had seen to that.

Mind you – if I do lay my hands on the person who decided that it would be fun to slam all of the doors in the building at 04:18 this morning he would be someone else who will be drinking soup through a straw for the foreseeable future.

None of that prevented me from going off on my travels though. I was in some kind of warehouse plece with a few other people chasing after a long-haired cat – a black mangy type of animal – with the intention of stroking it. But it disappeared from my view and I couldn’t remember what it was that I was supposed to be chasing and found myself chasing after a large wasp. Just imagine trying to give that a stroke!

This morning I wasn’t feeling so good. I had a bad attack of nausea that made me quite unsteady on my feet. But I managed to calm myself down intime to go searching for a bakkerei. I trawled the streets for 15 minutes before I found a supermarket, and only realised on the way back that had I turned right out of the alley instead of left, the first door in that direction would have sold me a baguette.

I made my butties for the journey but had run out of time so no shower – I can wait until I return home for that.

The train to Brussels was pretty uneventful but the bad news there was that to catch the earlier train would have cost me an extra €46:00. That’s not part of the plan at all so I sat down quietly in a very cold, draughty waiting area and read my book for a while.

The Thalys was one of the older generation of trains with everything manual and I couldn’t make the wi-fi work. But that’s not the end of the world at all really. I have plenty of other things to do.

Apart from visiting the bathroom I slept almost all of the way to Paris, and then I managed to cross Paris on the metro without any incident – and isn’t that a change for just recently?

The walk down the platform to Vaugirard was pretty uneventful, except that some woman was urging her mother on, in the most ungracious terms, to hurry for the train. Mummy was about 80 and so this situation brought back some memories from a previous existence.

They missed their train but there was another one in half an hour so they had to run all the way back to the ticket office to swap tickets and then run all the way back.

The look of despair on this old woman’s face was something that I shan’t ever forget.

But Vaugirard was packed out completely. I’ve never seen it so busy. Apparently it’s school holidays starting today. I grabbed a seat in the waiting room next to a nice girl who was going to Granville from Martinique for Christmas – the last seat available. We had quite a chat and I had to fight people out of her seat when she nipped to the bathroom.

The train was packed to the gunwhales with people and once again, I slept most of the way back. But on the station I bumped into my girl from the waiting room and I wished her a Merry .

Then began the long trudge back here.

It was cold in here, which is no surprise, but I had the heating on full blast while I watched Bangor City beat Cefn Druids on the laptop. The little laptop because the big one decided that it would do an upgrade as soon as I switched it on, and that took hours.

Tea was once more out of a tin, and then I went for a walk – for no good reason other than the fact that I was at 89% of my daily activity. I might as well wind it up to 100% – as it has been for every day this week.

Now it’s an early night. i’ll watch a film too. That seems to be working well right now.

EPIC HALL

The Poisoned Pen (or Poisoned Chalice, more like) – or my relentless struggle against reality

Category Archives: leuven

Sunday 15th April 2018 – I’M MOVING ON …

Saturday 14th April 2018 – I HAD A REALLY …

Friday 13th April 2018 – MY LANDLORD …

Thursday 12th April 2018 – SO HAVING BEEN …

Wednesday 11th Aoril 2018 – SO HERE I AM ONCE MORE …

Saturday 17th March 2018 – I’M BACK!

Friday 16th March 2018 – AND SO, AFTER …

Thursday 15th March 2018 – I DIDN’T ENJOY …

Wednesday 14th March 2018 – SO HERE I AM …

Sunday 18th February 2018 -FOR A REASON …

Saturday 17th February 2018 – I’M A MISERABLE PLEADER.

Friday 16th February 2018 – MY NEIGHBOURS …

Thursday 15th February 2018 – THAT’S NOT SUCH GOOD NEWS

Wednesday 14th February 2018 – I MADE IT …

Saturday 16th December 2017 – AND AS BARRY HAY …

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