And worse was to come. For it had a balcony, which the one at the top didn’t have, but this was on the first floor and it had a stunning view of the car park and the high hedge that screened it from the view of the sea.<\/p>\n
But there was one thing that totally shocked me – and it does take a lot to do that, I’ll tell you. There had been transfers or patches stuck on the wall, and it was impossible to remove them. "Don’t worry" said the estate agent. "The landlord will buy the paint and you can paint over them". At that, I turned on my heels and walked out. <\/p>\n
Some, if not all of these landlords whom I have encountered, are living on a totally different planet than I am, and I’m sure that it’s not me who is devoid of reality. I expect a clean and tidy apartment in good order and good repair in a respectable building – that’s a prime consideration. But clearly many of these landlords – and many of the tenants too, I shouldn’t wonder – have totally different ideas than I have. Whatever is the world coming to?<\/p>\n
So last night I slept the Sleep of the Dead and it wasn’t until the alarm went off that I staggered to my feet. 10 minutes under the shower soon restored me to life (well, sort-of, anyway) and I was glad that I wasn’t having breakfast because I wasn’t hungry in the least. I headed off instead through the fog and mist and the roadworks (of which there were more than just a few) for my rendezvous with destiny. <\/p>\n
The esate agent had a bit of a moan about dropping me of at the railway station but then she can’t pick and choose her clients either. <\/p>\n
My neighbours were a young woman and her two kids who were pleying an exciting game of cards all the way to Paris. It certainly kept them amused and out of mischief for a while. Lunch was the baguette that I had bought last night for this morning’s breakfast, together with the bowl of mint couscous that I had bought from LeClerc on Saturday, washed down with sparkling water that I had brought with me. Very acceptable.<\/p>\n The Paris metro was the usual incomprehensible maze, worsened by the fact that one half of the metro station at Montparnasse is cloed for renovation – and it’s the half that I need. Consequently it’s a bit all round the houses to reach the Gare du Nord.<\/p>\n There’s one of these stupid security checks that you have to pass before boarding the train these days – and that’s the kind of thing that gets on my nerves as you all well-know. But at least I had a comfortable seat on the train and I was quite undisturbed. Imagine my surprise on arriving at Bruxelles Gare du Midi to discover that there was a train for leuven pulling in right at that moment. That involved something of a sprint but nevertheless I leapt aboard, as did another family who immediately discovered that they had leapt aboard the wrong train. <\/p>\n I was okay though and ended up being decanted in Leuven much earlier than anticipated.<\/p>\n Verbond<\/em> is “Association”, tuin<\/em> is “garden”, bouw<\/em> is “building” and cooperatie<\/em> is “co-operative”. And so I’m wondering if this building is the headquarters of the Association for people who share garden sheds with other people. ![\"sncf](\"http:\/\/www.lesguis.com\/images\/1704\/1704019.jpg\")
<\/a>I had a long wait for my train so I had plenty of time to relax and buy a coffee – but then it was worth the wait because it was a very modern diesel mutiple-unit. A bit lightweight and it rolled around quite a lot, but on the other hand the seats were super-comfortable and there were plenty of power points all over the place. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n<\/a>We had an exciting few minutes of security alert as someone had forgotten their luggage in the waiting room, and then we were all ready to board out train – the one on the right of course. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n<\/a>Walking around the ring road towards where I’m staying tonight, I noticed this sign on a wall by a door to a building.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n