Hi friends. I missed you. I just got back home from my trip after midnight last night. My husband and I were travelling all through Belgium, which is six hours ahead of us on the East coast, so to say that I’m exhausted and out of sorts, is an understatement. Still, I feel the magnetic pull to come to my precious blog, so here I am (still in my robe, most of my stuff unpacked, two loads of laundry under our belts, and lots of loving on our three elated-to-see-us doggies). We chose to go to Belgium because my husband is a huge cycling enthusiast and having watched many European bike races on television throughout the years, he decided that he had to see one in person. When he mentioned going to Belgium, all that I could think of was chocolate, french fries, and waffles. It wasn’t hard to convince me to go. And it was wonderful (especially the chocolate, french fries and waffles.) Here are some of my travel notes:
+ Belgium is a European country about the size of Vermont. For the first time, we rented a car in Europe versus taking the trains. It was so fun and interesting to do it this way. It made me feel more immersed and less touristy than I ever have felt in a foreign country. It was fascinating. Belgium seems to be a microcosm of bigger countries much like the USA. We went to Brussels, but also to other northern cities like Antwerp, and Ghent and the medieval village of Bruges. The northern part of Belgium is highly Dutch influenced, and the people mostly all speak English. The southern parts of Belgium, particularly in Wallonia, are highly influenced by the French, and much fewer people speak English there. The architecture also was notably different as we travelled south, with the northern Dutch buildings and houses being much more ornate. The habits and traditions of the people were markedly different, as well. I suppose ever country has its own version of “the north and the south.”
We spent a lovely night in a teeny, beautiful, mountain town in what is called one of the smallest cities in the world – Durbuy, Belgium, before heading to the town of Huy, where the final finishing stage of the professional cycling race called the La Flèche Wallonne takes place. The cyclists have to climb the Mur de Huy (translation – Wall of Huy) three times to finish the race. The Wall of Huy is a hill with the average gradient of 9.7 degrees although some parts of it, are 26 degrees steep (that’s STEEP). This final climb on the Mur de Huy is after the cyclists have already ridden for miles all day, and also, for many days previous (for instance, the Tour de France lasts 23 or 24 days). Cyclists are tremendously strong, gritty, resilient athletes. What started out as a nice sunny spring race day, ended up being a cold, wet, 40 degree day, with rain, sleet, snow and hail and lots of mud. It was brutal and grueling for the cyclists. Over forty of them had to drop out of the race. It was brutal and grueling for this Florida girl (who is used to sun, heat and no hills) to walk up the “Wall of Huy”, in totally non-waterproof attire, to be a witness to the finish, but my husband was in his own special heaven, and I got a lot of “good wife/friend/partner” points for being a good sport about it all. Honestly, it was thrilling and fun to see the long-standing traditions that go along with the spectator sport of professional cycling, such as the cycling teams’ travel cars throwing candy and hats out to the crowds along the way, and people loudly yelling “Alle! Alle! Alle!” which means “Go! Go! Go!” to the passing cyclists, all the while as the spectators pounded furiously on the boards of the flimsy gates, which only keep spectators slightly apart from the cyclists riding on the road. I had never before witnessed anything like this in person. It was a truly, memorable experience and retrospectively, the dramatic weather changes made it an even more interesting event, and a fun memory forever.
+ As you can imagine, the biggest American imports in Belgium are McDonalds, Pizza Hut, Starbucks, Burger King and Coca-Cola. They do fine with their own brands of beer (we saw the monastery in Dinant where they still produce Leffe beer, which first started being brewed in 1240 A.D.). When we travel, we try to avoid these American staples as much as we possibly can (one time in Austria, we saw an embarrassing display of crappy processed foods like hot dogs, peanut butter and marshmallows, in a grocery store under a huge red, white and blue display sign that said, TASTE OF AMERICA), but this time, when we were travelling between towns, we were starved, and a McDonalds was our only fast option. Interestingly, this Belgian McDonalds sold chicken wings, and burgers with upgraded bakery buns and unusual cheeses. They did not have any ketchup or mustard to offer to us. The Belgians love their mayonnaise for their fries, and there was a curry sauce for the chicken nuggets. Honestly, it could have been because we were starved, but this was truly one of the best McDonalds meals I have ever eaten.
+ Speaking of Americans, I have to give us wonderful Americans a huge shout out. One of our servers, after the bike race, said emphatically, that Americans are the nicest tourists that come to his country (Australians are a close second), and we experienced this first hand. As we were getting on to the first leg of our three plane rides home (Brussels to London), the carry-on luggage space was all filled up. (My husband and I only brought carry-on luggage for this particular trip, because we had several flight stops, and we knew that we would be travelling all over the country. We could not afford to lose our luggage.) So the flight attendants were telling my husband and I, another American woman (who had paid extra, for guaranteed carry-on availability) and a man from another country, that we would all have to check our luggage, all the way through to our final destinations. We were sick about this, as we had valuables and souvenirs, and we had all packed our things like medicine, and whatnot, like we would be able to easily access it. And of course, we did not expect to see our luggage ever again, if we had to check it all the way through like this, right at the door of the airplane, in a foreign country. Needless to say, the other passengers were not thrilled with the hold-up either, as we all waited for our luggage to be taken by the airline’s authorities. The flight attendants worked fervently to make room for two bags, but ours were still needing to be checked. The sympathetic baggage attendant suggested that we ask for volunteers from other passengers whose final destination was to London, to check their bags instead. At first, no one offered to do this when the flight attendant made the pleading request in an announcement. All of the sudden though, two gracious American women, a mother and a daughter, offered to check their bags and thus, we were able to keep our luggage with us. These wonderful women wouldn’t even accept lunch/Starbucks money from us, as a token for their kindness. If ever I have felt a duty to pay a kindness forward, it is now. If I were in their shoes, I’m not sure that I would have done the same thing. But now I will (I suppose this is how kindness spreads.) I was so completely and utterly grateful to these women, but truthfully, also so very proud, and yet not really surprised that they were generous, kind, empathetic Americans.
+ My favorite story of the trip was when we spotted a boutique in the Sablon area of Brussels called 29th/October. This is my husband’s and my wedding anniversary date. We will be happily married for 30 years, this October. I had to go in and get a souvenir. It felt like kismet! Well, the story gets even better, because as I went to purchase the bracelet which I carefully picked out, I was waited on by the owner of the shop, who was a young woman who was also the artist who had created my bracelet. It is signed by her. And she was overjoyed to hear that October 29th was our anniversary, as she loudly called her mother (who was helping in the shop) over to meet us. It turns out that October 29th was named after her parents’ wedding date, and this young woman was one of their four children. (We have four adult children, too!) These kinds of stories are what make me the happiest. Goosebumps, for sure.
+ What I love most about travel is the humbling perspective it gives to you. We are all just one teeny, weeny part of this whole thing that we call Life. I felt like I saw millions and millions of people as I travelled around in one small country, on one of our smallest continents. When I purchased a candle made by a wife of a supposedly extremely famous celebrity in Belgium, the clerk was shocked that I had never heard of these people. One night, as we exhaustedly laid in our hotel bed and flipped through the TV shows (all French), it was funny to see a version of our HGTV show, House Hunters. If you think our kitchens are outdated, you should see some of these European houses’ kitchens that looked they could have been over a hundred years old!! There was also a show that appeared to be like Survivor, but it took place in castles, and the contestants were called traitors. I suppose what I am trying to say, is that the world isn’t all about ‘us’ – not even close. But I actually find this to be a relieving and comforting thought. Perhaps if we just trust Life, enjoy our experience of it all, and be truly engaged with our experiences, and then try to be kind, and leave mostly good along our way, I really believe that’s all that we need to do, or are meant to do. It really is that simple. I am also astonished, as I travelled around one small country, on one of our smallest continents, how much beautiful countryside still exists everywhere. My husband and I drove through miles and miles of gorgeous country fields dotted with patches of brilliant yellow rapeseed (an unfortunate name for a beautiful flower) and enjoyed standing under enormous trees in Bruges that had to have been hundreds of years old (despite the common Belgian custom of pollarding, which is to constantly prune the trees so that they stay in their adolescent stage – must we really project our fear of aging on to the trees?!?). We still have a lot of natural beauty and abundance all over this planet. Nature is honestly usually the most astonishingly beautiful thing that I ever witness on any of my trips, even after witnessing unbelievably grand works of architecture and art. I went up to one big tree in a field in Bruges and the first thing that I noticed on the tree’s enormous girth, was a tiny red ladybug. Both the colossal tree and the teeny insect have their own place, and their own experience on this Earth, and they seem to know to savor the experience and to blissfully share it with each other. Perhaps part of their experience on this Earth, is to serve as pure examples of peaceful, beautiful, trusting beings which remind us to be the same way.
+ And a bonus favorite, since I missed Favorite Things Friday, yesterday: Despite watching a few movies on my flights that left me wondering why anyone even thought that these particular movies should have ever been made (I nickname these types of movies, “This Just Has To Get Better at Some Point, Right???” movies), I did enjoy a gem. Watch Jules. It was one of the sweetest, most heartfelt, amusing movies I have seen in a long, long while.
It’s good to be back, friends. There really is no place like home! Thank you for staying with me during my break from writing, and thank you for indulging me with my “field notes”. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. See you tomorrow.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
1699. What is the last song you danced to?
