… I caught the first morning flight from Heathrow to start my new life in Brussels. I knew where I was headed – I had visited the offices twice already – but the sense of excitement and adventure was palpable. It was a Monday; they had more sense than to call me in on my official starting day, Friday the 1st.
I don’t actually remember much more about that week. I was lodged in a flea-pit hotel just off the Avenue Louise, by Place Stephanie. I didn’t spend any more time there than I had to, but I don’t recall going out either. I spent a couple of afternoons traipsing around the neighbouring streets looking for the orange and white ‘à louer’ signs, without success. Then I found an ad for a furnished apartment in Avenue Albert, shook hands on it on the Thursday evening, and on Friday headed back to the UK for the weekend.
All in all, not an auspicious start, although the simple sense of ‘differentness’ was enough to keep me on a very mild high. It’s a feeling that I still get from time to time – curious, that. It doesn’t happen around the busy areas, or the sights; it happens around the suburbs and the side-streets.
I’ve been here half my life (nearly), I’ve left my home country far, far behind, and yet from time to time Belgium still inspires a sense of wonderment. Hope it stays that way.
Thursday, 4 February 2010
Monday, 1 February 2010
Rara avis
Our weekly bird-food bill during this cold snap is probably around €15. Grains, apples, raisins, cheese, balls and blocks of fat stuffed with creepy-crawlies (where do they get the raw materials from?). Special muesli for birds. We even had a pot of worms in the fridge for a while – yes, they were alive but no, they weren’t moving about very much.
All this virtue has its rewards of course, in the form of a garden full of birds. Nothing very exotic – it’s the pigeons and the collared doves which rule the roost, starlings, blackbirds, chaffinches, sparrows, magpies, tits both great and blue, a robin and the ubiquitous green parakeets which have so successfully colonised Brussels.
They are all welcome at the banquet except one – the heron, with whom we’re at war over the proprietorship of our pond and its fishy contents.
It’s very rare indeed that we see anything outside this community of ‘common or garden’ birds. Very occasionally a wren comes to visit, and last summer a red kite perched on the edge of the pond. Just once I saw a pair of yellow wagtails. So it was quite exciting to find we have been adopted by a pair of fieldfares, at least for the duration of the current snow. I knew what they were because of a BBC report on how this winter they were appearing more regularly in gardens; the fieldfare was described as a ‘large, aggressive thrush, stealing food from the blackbirds’ which fitted them exactly.
As a bonus, the vet was visiting at the time, administering the cat’s annual jab. He didn’t know what these birds were, and was most impressed when we got out the birdie-book and said ‘there, you see, that’s the one!’ Even looked up for him the name in French – litorne.
A further fall of snow overnight means they’ll stick around a while longer. Don’t worry, the blackbirds won’t starve. There’s plenty of grain, apples, raisins, cheese etc to go round – we can always buy more.
All this virtue has its rewards of course, in the form of a garden full of birds. Nothing very exotic – it’s the pigeons and the collared doves which rule the roost, starlings, blackbirds, chaffinches, sparrows, magpies, tits both great and blue, a robin and the ubiquitous green parakeets which have so successfully colonised Brussels.
They are all welcome at the banquet except one – the heron, with whom we’re at war over the proprietorship of our pond and its fishy contents.
It’s very rare indeed that we see anything outside this community of ‘common or garden’ birds. Very occasionally a wren comes to visit, and last summer a red kite perched on the edge of the pond. Just once I saw a pair of yellow wagtails. So it was quite exciting to find we have been adopted by a pair of fieldfares, at least for the duration of the current snow. I knew what they were because of a BBC report on how this winter they were appearing more regularly in gardens; the fieldfare was described as a ‘large, aggressive thrush, stealing food from the blackbirds’ which fitted them exactly.
As a bonus, the vet was visiting at the time, administering the cat’s annual jab. He didn’t know what these birds were, and was most impressed when we got out the birdie-book and said ‘there, you see, that’s the one!’ Even looked up for him the name in French – litorne.
A further fall of snow overnight means they’ll stick around a while longer. Don’t worry, the blackbirds won’t starve. There’s plenty of grain, apples, raisins, cheese etc to go round – we can always buy more.
Friday, 29 January 2010
Rowing to Vienna - I
I rowed 14km (and a bit) on the Concept 2 ergo last night, which took my total for the month and for the year-to-date past 100km. To keep me motivated, I thought I’d check out my progress against something I could relate to – like a real journey.
If I were to equal my 2009 total of 1014km, that would be close to the distance from Brussels to Vienna.
I’ve already spent 8 hours and 12 minutes of my year on the infernal machine, so I’m covering a kilometre every 4 minutes and 27 seconds, or a mile every 7 minutes and 9 seconds. That’s about as fast as I used to run – when I was a runner.
So I’m not rowing in a cold, cheerless hall – I’m running to Vienna!
I’ve crossed the border into Holland already, just passing Maastricht.
If I were to equal my 2009 total of 1014km, that would be close to the distance from Brussels to Vienna.
I’ve already spent 8 hours and 12 minutes of my year on the infernal machine, so I’m covering a kilometre every 4 minutes and 27 seconds, or a mile every 7 minutes and 9 seconds. That’s about as fast as I used to run – when I was a runner.
So I’m not rowing in a cold, cheerless hall – I’m running to Vienna!
I’ve crossed the border into Holland already, just passing Maastricht.
Self-improvement
A meagre selection of drive-in music this morning. Kraftwerk – no thanks. Floyd Wish You Were Here – much better. Two horribly low spots though – Alain Bashung, who I thought was my un-favourite francophone singer, and Arno, who promptly replaced him in the bottom spot. You wonder how people with such ghastly voices get into music, but you wonder even more about the people who buy their records.
I’m getting better at ‘chanson’. I try and follow the lyrics as best I can but eventually they always run away from me. If they catch my imagination I can Google them afterwards. You can learn a lot that way – the meaning of ‘le tintamarre du pognon’ for example (from Eiffel’s A Tout Moment la Rue, which I like very much).
Apart from Bashung, the other artist I can identify without checking the readout on the radio is Gerald de Palmas. Now him, I like, probably because his songs sound more American, country-rock-ish. On the other hand, I don’t like Cabrel when he’s trying very hard to pretend he’s an American who just happens to be singing in French. I’m told I must like Cabrel, so I’ll persevere.
Today’s featured Wikipedia article is Keats’ Ode on a Grecian Urn. I shall study it at lunchtime – I need to improve myself.
I’m getting better at ‘chanson’. I try and follow the lyrics as best I can but eventually they always run away from me. If they catch my imagination I can Google them afterwards. You can learn a lot that way – the meaning of ‘le tintamarre du pognon’ for example (from Eiffel’s A Tout Moment la Rue, which I like very much).
Apart from Bashung, the other artist I can identify without checking the readout on the radio is Gerald de Palmas. Now him, I like, probably because his songs sound more American, country-rock-ish. On the other hand, I don’t like Cabrel when he’s trying very hard to pretend he’s an American who just happens to be singing in French. I’m told I must like Cabrel, so I’ll persevere.
Today’s featured Wikipedia article is Keats’ Ode on a Grecian Urn. I shall study it at lunchtime – I need to improve myself.
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Into the home straight
Temperature on the drive in today: -4.5° most of the way. -2.5° in town. On the radio: AC/DC – Highway to Hell; Madness – Night Boat to Cairo; Rod Stewart – Do You Think I’m Sexy. High spot – Madness of course.
Out of mere curiosity (yeah, right) I calculated how many more days I might spend chained to this desk – God and the management willing. And it’s as I’d guessed – I’m into the last thousand. I don’t intend to tick them off like a prisoner chalking on his wall, but it’s a sobering thought that if I count back a thousand days, it doesn’t seem to take me very far into the past.
So I decided to have another go at this blog. To help to fill out those days, to divert my attention from the ticking clock. Will I have the imagination or motivation to keep it up? Remains to be seen.
Out of mere curiosity (yeah, right) I calculated how many more days I might spend chained to this desk – God and the management willing. And it’s as I’d guessed – I’m into the last thousand. I don’t intend to tick them off like a prisoner chalking on his wall, but it’s a sobering thought that if I count back a thousand days, it doesn’t seem to take me very far into the past.
So I decided to have another go at this blog. To help to fill out those days, to divert my attention from the ticking clock. Will I have the imagination or motivation to keep it up? Remains to be seen.
Friday, 26 January 2007
Caroline happy hour 26/01/07
It’s an occasional habit of mine to tune into Radio Caroline between 8 and 9 in the morning. Always a few nuggets in an eclectic mix and the occasional gem.
This morning’s nuggets included:
Clapton/Motherless Child
Dylan/Just Like a Woman
Paul Simon/Love Me Like a Rock
Blood, Sweat & Tears/You Made Me So Very Happy (borderline nugget - they can do much better)
Fleetwoods/Rhiannon
The gem was Sparks/Amateur Hour – not one I would normally have picked from among the more illustrious company above, but I certainly enjoyed the listen.
This morning’s nuggets included:
Clapton/Motherless Child
Dylan/Just Like a Woman
Paul Simon/Love Me Like a Rock
Blood, Sweat & Tears/You Made Me So Very Happy (borderline nugget - they can do much better)
Fleetwoods/Rhiannon
The gem was Sparks/Amateur Hour – not one I would normally have picked from among the more illustrious company above, but I certainly enjoyed the listen.
Thursday, 25 January 2007
Wrongsiders
For those who are unfamiliar with the place, the centre of Brussels is very compact and clearly-defined, in the shape of an elongated pentagon, about 3km long by 2km across. It is surrounded by a dual carriageway, the inner ring or petite ceinture. Around this are ranged the other Communes, 19 in all, which make up the city.
The main axes run roughly Northeast-Southwest: the railway, which is underground through most of the centre; what used to be the main shopping thoroughfare, now very much gone to seed; and the Canal, which runs along one side of the pentagon. Half the city, including all the centre, lies on the Southeastern side of the Canal
As far as expats are concerned, and probably many native Bruxellois, the part of the city beyond the Canal is unexplored territory. They whizz through it (mostly under it) on their way to the Coast, and they may tentatively venture into it to visit the Atomium and the amenities that surround it in the Heysel complex, like the National Stadium, the Exhibition Centre and the big cinema complex there. But live there? No way.
I’d hazard a guess that, of the Anglophone expats in Brussels and the surrounding areas, less than 5% live on the ‘wrong side’ of the Canal. The Bulletin, the weekly magazine that caters to this market, will have upwards of 100 ads for accommodation in each issue, of which maybe 2 will be for the unfashionable bit.
This vast majority don’t know what they’re missing. The ‘wrong side’ can be endlessly invigorating and surprising. I’ve lived there 16 years, and I’m continually making pleasant discoveries. Maybe I’ll post them from time to time.
The main axes run roughly Northeast-Southwest: the railway, which is underground through most of the centre; what used to be the main shopping thoroughfare, now very much gone to seed; and the Canal, which runs along one side of the pentagon. Half the city, including all the centre, lies on the Southeastern side of the Canal
As far as expats are concerned, and probably many native Bruxellois, the part of the city beyond the Canal is unexplored territory. They whizz through it (mostly under it) on their way to the Coast, and they may tentatively venture into it to visit the Atomium and the amenities that surround it in the Heysel complex, like the National Stadium, the Exhibition Centre and the big cinema complex there. But live there? No way.
I’d hazard a guess that, of the Anglophone expats in Brussels and the surrounding areas, less than 5% live on the ‘wrong side’ of the Canal. The Bulletin, the weekly magazine that caters to this market, will have upwards of 100 ads for accommodation in each issue, of which maybe 2 will be for the unfashionable bit.
This vast majority don’t know what they’re missing. The ‘wrong side’ can be endlessly invigorating and surprising. I’ve lived there 16 years, and I’m continually making pleasant discoveries. Maybe I’ll post them from time to time.
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