But let's start with 3 o'clock, standing outside a closed small bar with our bags, having heard from no one from the apartment we are supposed to stay in here. Yesterday's email had not been answered; a phone message today, the same; and a call as we stood there wondering what to do went unanswered.
Appropriately, one of the buttons on the door of the address I had for the place was labelled "Grimm" so I decided to push it. Appropriately, it was the right thing to do. A woman answered, said she was coming and opened the door.
Michael said the rest he couldn't have staged better. We were led down a narrow hallway and through a door and up stairs -- well, here's the pic...I"m not sure it does them justice --
Okay, we're there. Have I said yet that Ms. Grimm was hard to understand -- she spoke English well enough but not terribly loud (my hearing lost is a theme of the day) and heavily accented? And spoke quickly.
She unlocked the door and we all sucked wind (Megan claims "it's not so bad...rofl) and we came to an alcove, then she opened a door to the left -- a room with two beds -- then we stepped through into...okay, it's a studio apartment. A very, very small studio apartment.
I followed her downstairs (I did say 3 times; I did say they are scary and torturous, right?)
My version of "how": one day in like March I decided to look at accommodations here. We like staying in a place like an apartment. Anyway, we needed at least 2 bedrooms (check, here) and 2 bathrooms (check). It was affordable, if not inexpensive.
A living room is a given. Somewhere to sit and commune is a given.
I booked the place, having looked at the pictures and thought it was okay. But I booked it on the condition it could be unbooked -- by May 11th.
We were at the dinner in State College with B&M and I asked about the room -- we had time to cancel. I remember being told they looked at the pictures and it looked good (this is my out).
Okay, here is Michael, lounging on the one piece of "living room" furniture:
EH is sleeping on a cot in the other bedroom. This was not the plan, either.
And there's the highlight design feature: a roughly built ladder up the hallway wall in the living room. Yes, ladder. It's shaky (we've all tried it), so we aren't sure it's really functional (there may be loft storage space). A ladder. Unfinished...I guess to match the floors you can see in the picture.
After some discussion and exploring, we have decided to stay. It is not uncomfortable, but both small, odd, &...those steps. Oh, yeah, the wifi works in B&M's side, but comes and goes in our side (another theme of the day).
& then there was naptime. They are doing construction right outside the front -- you know, a jackhammer. Then they put in paving stones, which they finished with a machine that made the building shake as well as sounding like the world was ending. Michael claimed he laughed at it all in his sleep.
We started the day before 5 -- we were in a taxi to St. Pancras station at 4.55. Smile. Teamwork.
We were checked through passport control and security and sitting waiting on the train by 530.
For our first meal of the day, we had Pret-a-manger (this place is a whole post on its own). K rejected her breakfast sandwich because the ham and cheese on brioche had mustard on it -- I agree, not a breakfast condiment. But the rest of us had pastries and coffee and away we went.
Two hours later, we were in Brussels. Dropped our bags and EH led (she had cell service) us to the Grand Platz . -- you can see my write of it from last year here https://roadtosonoma.blogspot.com/2017/05/day-1-brussels-and-then-budapest.html
We were all hungry, so here's come food porn --
The Belgian national thing is mussels. I ordered them for Michael (he may have had a choice he doesn't concede) --
K, EH and I the special, that included waffle and many pastries in a basket.
We explored the square -- EH & K went into an exhibit in the Guildhall on posters from the Belle Epoque (which I swear EH called Belly Pocket) and B&M went into the Hard Rock, which is right on the square. No one bought chocolate -- because it wasn't like there was a shop every other storefront. :)
The retrieval of the bags from lockers led to a scene -- the attendant (these were supposed to be attendant free) was discussing with a woman, I thought, why she couldn't get the world's largest duffle bag (it was at least 40" long and a foot, no more! across) into the not terribly large locker. When it was clear that she had lost the heated exchange the attendant overrode the payment, she reached into the locker and pulled out...A SMALL APARTMENT!!!! It was purple. Okay, I may have exaggerated, but it was at least a 44" -- almost two feet deep and another 30" across.
The guy with her never said a word. Not one.
We made the 1.20 train to Antwerp. Or Anvers. It was determined that many cities in Belgium have a French name and a Flemish (or Dutch) name. Antwerp and Anvers. Bruxelles and Brussels. Malines and Mechelin.
It was a 20 euro taxi ride to the apartment. Our taxi driver -- we went in 2 separate ones -- spoke decent English, then took a call with a what appeared to be his son. So, I asked. He said he was speaking Persian. K asked if he was from Iran; he said, no Afghanistan. He'd been in Antwerp for 16 years. He said he went back last year and nothing's really changed -- they've traded the Taliban for Isis. Added to our depression.
We napped.
Then walked this neighborhood (a 20 euro ride) which is rather hipster. Whatever that means.
We ate a place that we could get in and we liked the menu. It was good.
Here's EH's dinner -- they forgot to cook it!
I had their Flemish stew, with a long name in Flemish I can't begin to reproduce --
There were drinks -- I had a Belgian blonde (a local double).
And then we played euchre into the night.
Barb was playing on iPad as we played cards and shared a joke. We laughed for a long time...
The joke was "A sailor walked into the bar with a peg leg, a hook for a hand, and an iPatch..."
The bartender asks how this happens...blah blah blah..."and the iPatch?" "A seagull pooped in my eye..." The others started laughing and I didn't get it -- why are they laughing.
"It's the first day I had the hook."
Not a bad joke.
But for the setup I had heard "iPad", not eyepatch, and had no idea how this worked out.
I shared it. We decided the hook wouldn't work with the iPad either. :)
Wait till I tell my students this joke.
And today we go into the center of the city. Stop one is the Rubens museum. We've already decided we were going to see "some kind of naked..." but that's for tomorrow's blog.
G'day gentle readers.
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