Saturday, May 19, 2012

The Penultimate Post

I have returned (triumphantly) to London. With two new countries under my belt after a whirlwind five days on the continent, I think it is altogether a relief to say that this account shall be far from complete. A relief for you, dear reader, sure. But also for me.

London, Calais, Bruges, Brusells, De Hoge Veluwe, Amsterdam, Bruges(ish), De Panne, Calais, London.

That's the Sparknotes version. On a related note, I would like to point out that Sparknotes is full of procrastination tools as well as often unhelpful synopses. Did you notice how this Sparknotes tidbit is also a bit of procrastination from an unhelpful synopsis? Moving on.

I didn't know a great deal about Belgium before visiting. People told me to try the waffles. Well, good. The one thing I had heard of about Belgium was the one thing I should go do. The waffles were delicious, though. As was the white asparagus cooked in the Belgian style I ordered for dinner the first night without knowing what the were. (They put some scrambled eggs on top. Om fucking nom.)

But food aside, Belgium was delightful and gave me an opportunity to variously practice my French and just not know Felmmish. Bonjour. Je m'appelle Jessica. Je suis un mutoun. No, that is not a prank someone has played on me. I just like to tell people I am a sheep in other languages.

Bruges is a beautiful smaller city, known for its lace. It was hosting some sort of fair with carnival rides when we made our way through, but luckily towards the center, the buildings muffled the screams. (Good to note if you're planning a Belgian murder.)


In Brussels, though surely I could talk about things like the Grand Place, more waffles, and that odd little boy taking a piss, my favorite bit was the Comic Strip Museum. Spurred on by Belgian pride for Herge, the creator of the Tintin comics, the museum offers a brief history of comics, selections of original drawings, and short bios of some of the more famous comic artists, including Herge. Tintin and I have been dear friends for many years. I did not become a fan simply because of the newly released film, although it has given me reason to shout Tintin and point at various objects on my travels, where before when I did that it was simply to confuse metal enthusiasts. My family owns all the Tintin books, save Tintin in the Congo, which is, of course, the only Tintin book with a rhino.

After Brussels, Bernard, Sir, and I headed to the Netherlands to the country's largest national park, De Hoge Veluwe. (At this point it might be useful to mention that I call my parents Bernard and Sir. I am sure I once had complicated but somewhat sensible reasons for doing so, but they have long since vanished.) I wanted to go to De Hoge Veluwe for the nature and because the promise of hundreds of free white bicycles to ride around the park on made my little socialist heart leap. It leapt less when I discovered there was a fee to get in the park, bringing that capitalist drive right back.

This brings up to what I will hyperbolically call the most harrowing experience of my life.

Before going to the park, Bernard, Sir, and I had gone to a grocery store to get some focacia and salami to eat for lunch. After cycling through the diverse landscape of the park, we stopped by a big ass house near a lake to eat. Nearly as soon as we sat down, six ducks had us surrounded. Though not really menacing, their squawks made eating a test of wills. Every so often, Sir would lob a scrap of bread away from us and with a wild storm of wings, the ducks would converge on the bit of food. One of the ducks, a female according to Bernard, remained on the wall behind us for most of the meal, every once in a while one of the male mallards would fly after her and chase her away. Already nervous by having a duck behind me, it took a lot of my courage to focus on peeling another peppered salami slice away from the others and pressing it into my mouth with a hunk of focacia clutched in my hand. A mini-tornado erupted over my head and my hair lifted in great swirls. A small yelp slipped through my lips as the brown lady duck suddenly flew off the wall behind me, dipped over my head and took off across the lake.


Amsterdam was next on the agenda. Yes, I was in the red light district. No, I did not get a prostitute. No, I did not become a prostitute. In fact, we walked through it without my even realizing we had done. Sorry to disappoint.

On the way back to Calais, my parents and I stopped off in De Panne and had a walk along the beach. With sand clinging to my teeth after a spot of lunch, I was ready to wade into the water. I had wanted to go into the water in Dover on my class field trip weeks early as some of you may remember. But now, I stumbled into the water along the Belgian coast to make up for missing out on swimming in Dover.


Two crepes later and a train ride later, I was in London once more for my real farewell tour.

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