Thalys, the high speed train operator, running (unreliable, in my experience) services between France, Belgium, The Netherlands and Germany, has caused a bit of a stink with their latest announcement on ticket price increases.
On a selfish note, the cheapest return ticket between Mons and Paris has gone up from €38 to €50. This after they made the one a day train to Paris depart Mons even earlier: from 8.25 to 7.38.
But, the thing that's got people up in arms is the news that the company plans to separate passengers who have bought its cheapest tickets from those who have paid for their premium ones.
Marc Tarabella, a Belgian member of the European Parliament, labelled this move something akin to a European caste system. Strong words, perhaps a touch over the top. Certainly, snobbish more than anything else.
According to Thalys, by "regrouping" passengers into different categories, they are doing a favour to their business customers who prefer to share space amongst a similar clientele (so they claim), left alone to get on with their work, without the distractions of cheapskates for company.
Not the best PR it has to be said, but then again, I've been less than mad with their service every time I've used it. Lousy customer service, six month waits for a reply in applying for compensation for delayed journeys. Compensation never materialised.
And an amateurish, unuser friendly website, which demands that you enter your full name and email address (twice) before it gives you the proposed cost of a journey you're looking for.
Latest punctuality figures: 87.8% of journeys less than 15 minutes late over the past 12 months. Not great.
It's the less than 15 minutes late bit that gets me. I wonder what percentage it'd drop to if we're actually talking about, erm, leaving 'on time?'
How to lose customers and alienate future ones.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Sat 14 Jan - Amiens
Went with friends to the northern French city of Amiens. Don't go. There, that's my useful bit of advice.
An eerie ghost town, was what it felt like. Struggled to find anywhere to eat, to drink, or much to do. No idea where everyone was, but they need to come back and breathe some life into it.
This part of the world is so close to Wallonia that it's all regarded as 'Ch'ti' territory. A lot cleaner and less grubby than Mons, but lacking its warmth and vibrancy.
In doing my research for an article on high speed trains in the UK, I read that many French towns, such as Reims (to which I've also been, and was also left unimpressed by) and Amiens, have suffered economically as a result of not being served by the French high speed TGV trains. You can certainly see the evidence all around.
There is, however, the rather fabulous Jules Verne house; author of such famous works as Around the World in Eighty Days, and other books I haven't read, which is good fun, and the kind of place kids would love to explore and get lost in.
An eerie ghost town, was what it felt like. Struggled to find anywhere to eat, to drink, or much to do. No idea where everyone was, but they need to come back and breathe some life into it.
This part of the world is so close to Wallonia that it's all regarded as 'Ch'ti' territory. A lot cleaner and less grubby than Mons, but lacking its warmth and vibrancy.
In doing my research for an article on high speed trains in the UK, I read that many French towns, such as Reims (to which I've also been, and was also left unimpressed by) and Amiens, have suffered economically as a result of not being served by the French high speed TGV trains. You can certainly see the evidence all around.
There is, however, the rather fabulous Jules Verne house; author of such famous works as Around the World in Eighty Days, and other books I haven't read, which is good fun, and the kind of place kids would love to explore and get lost in.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Thursday 22 December
Had the usual palava trying to get home for Christmas. Thanks to a general strike in Belgium today there were no Eurostar trains running from Brussels, so had to rely on a friend to drive us to Lille, where we were able to catch a train (where they were all now starting) from there.
Actually, it wasn't really that much of a hassle. More of an irritation. I think this must be the 4th or 5th time, I've lost track, I or we, have experienced some sort of disruption trying to get home. Travelling around Christmas time should always be avoided where possible.
The strike itself was in protest against government plans to reform public sector pensions. However, even though the strike was scheduled for today, public transport had been affected since Tuesday, with wildcat, impromptu strikes, bringing parts of the network to a standstill for about four days.
Luckily, I was able to get to work on the Tuesday, but wasn't so lucky yesterday, with all train services in Wallonia being cancelled. I'm really not sure you'd be able to get away with wildcat strikes in England. Not the first time I've been on the receiving end.
The Eurostar train itself was virtually empty, with most people, I guess, opting to travel tomorrow.
Actually, it wasn't really that much of a hassle. More of an irritation. I think this must be the 4th or 5th time, I've lost track, I or we, have experienced some sort of disruption trying to get home. Travelling around Christmas time should always be avoided where possible.
The strike itself was in protest against government plans to reform public sector pensions. However, even though the strike was scheduled for today, public transport had been affected since Tuesday, with wildcat, impromptu strikes, bringing parts of the network to a standstill for about four days.
Luckily, I was able to get to work on the Tuesday, but wasn't so lucky yesterday, with all train services in Wallonia being cancelled. I'm really not sure you'd be able to get away with wildcat strikes in England. Not the first time I've been on the receiving end.
The Eurostar train itself was virtually empty, with most people, I guess, opting to travel tomorrow.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Fri 9 Dec - Sat 10 Dec: Maastricht
This was supposed to have been a two night stay, but due to being put in the wrong room (had to lump it once we got there, and couldn't be arsed to look for another B&B), which overlooked a noisy street (loads of very loud students all chatting in English, with foreign accents. The city's university is very popular with foreigners), and after a night of virtually no sleep, it turned into a one night stay.
Still, Maastricht, at night, all lit up and Christmassy was great. The Christmas markets (naturally) are meant to be the focal point at this time of year. Gave them a quick peak. The one in Mons was much better.
Another one of those small, compact, cobbled towns, lined with the cosiest and most inviting bars and restaurants you could hope for.
It's funny how close you are to the Belgian border: about a 15mins train journey away.
Had a superb Thai meal on the Friday night (Dutch food is about as appealing to me as Belgian food. You can add German food to that as well.): sushi to start, followed by the best Pad Thai I've ever tasted. I'm finally getting in to my sushi. Have always dismissed it in the past, but it's starting to really grow on me: so clean and fresh.
Our B&B owner was very laid back about us opting to leave a night early, and kindly gave us some money back from our first night, and didn't charge us for the second. I wouldn't have paid anyway, even if she had.
In the end, we only really missed out on an evening out, as we were planning on coming back straight after breakfast the next day. And being so easy to get home meant we virtually had two days here, anyway.
Still, Maastricht, at night, all lit up and Christmassy was great. The Christmas markets (naturally) are meant to be the focal point at this time of year. Gave them a quick peak. The one in Mons was much better.
Another one of those small, compact, cobbled towns, lined with the cosiest and most inviting bars and restaurants you could hope for.
It's funny how close you are to the Belgian border: about a 15mins train journey away.
Had a superb Thai meal on the Friday night (Dutch food is about as appealing to me as Belgian food. You can add German food to that as well.): sushi to start, followed by the best Pad Thai I've ever tasted. I'm finally getting in to my sushi. Have always dismissed it in the past, but it's starting to really grow on me: so clean and fresh.
Our B&B owner was very laid back about us opting to leave a night early, and kindly gave us some money back from our first night, and didn't charge us for the second. I wouldn't have paid anyway, even if she had.
In the end, we only really missed out on an evening out, as we were planning on coming back straight after breakfast the next day. And being so easy to get home meant we virtually had two days here, anyway.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Thursday 8 December
Went along to the Bruges Snow and Ice Sculpture festival today. Every year, in one huge room, they choose a theme, and let loose a load of ice sculpturers to do their thing.
This year Disneyland Paris was the theme. Lots of characters from well known films and animations carved out in ice, an ice slide, and even an ice bar, filled the room. The slide was my favourite bit. It was, naturally, rather chilly in there, not helped by the fact that it was also cold outside. Good, clean, fun for all the family.
This year Disneyland Paris was the theme. Lots of characters from well known films and animations carved out in ice, an ice slide, and even an ice bar, filled the room. The slide was my favourite bit. It was, naturally, rather chilly in there, not helped by the fact that it was also cold outside. Good, clean, fun for all the family.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Tuesday 6 December - We have a government!
Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you....a new government! 541 days it took.
Here, they've labelled it "un gouvernement papillon" (a "bow tie government"), because it's what Elio Di Rupo, the new PM and mayor of Mons, is always seen in public wearing. Usually, a red one. Although I did spot him wearing a rather fetching burgundy-coloured one recently.
What more is there to say. Except, hallelujah!
Now, time to make himself instantly unpopular by implementing a raft of much-delayed austerity measures.
Here, they've labelled it "un gouvernement papillon" (a "bow tie government"), because it's what Elio Di Rupo, the new PM and mayor of Mons, is always seen in public wearing. Usually, a red one. Although I did spot him wearing a rather fetching burgundy-coloured one recently.
What more is there to say. Except, hallelujah!
Now, time to make himself instantly unpopular by implementing a raft of much-delayed austerity measures.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Saturday 3 December - Day trip to Germany
Went on a day trip to Germany today, thanks to one of the many tours C's work organises. The morning and early afternoon was spent in Monschau, and the rest of the day in Aachen.
The trip was billed as a chance to marvel at some of Europe's finest (ubiquitous) Christmas markets. Because me and C are so damn contrary, but more because we really have seen quite a lot of Christmas markets now, and to be honest, they're all much of a muchness, and sell the usual array of nothing particularly useful, we spent the whole day doing what we do best: wandering around, and stopping every now and again for food and drink.
Monschau is tiny and adorable, and seems to have been built specifically for tourists in mind, which of course it wasn't. It just feels like that. The weather was a shocker all day - heavy wind and driving rain, nice. - so we tried to limit outdoor time, and ducked into cafés more than even we would have liked to.
It was a bit like a fairytale kind of village: river running below, mini bridges, narrow side streets, inviting-looking cafés.
Enjoyed having a huge flapjack (surprisingly tasteless, even though it looked like it should have been delicious. Too dry) and coffee, whilst having a good natter with a group of middle-aged English women, sitting on the table next to us.
In the past, whenever I was away and heard English voices, I'd usually walk in the opposite direction. Since living abroad, I've begun to find the sound comforting and reassuring.
It was one of those very typical English conversations: lots of humour, lots of sarcasm, the odd bit of innuendo, a bit of a moan about the weather and how expensive things are in Europe (!), and how great it is to get away for a few days. All done without any kind of introductions, or any exchange of names or details about each other. Wonderful!
Aarchen was a lot easier to wander about in the rain, because it's an actual city and there was far more to see. The market was also quite big and actually had some good food stools.
The main cathedral was spectacular, sort of a mini version of the St Mark's Basilica in Venice. Really wasn't expecting something so impressive from the outside.
After having a decent meal at a trendy wine bar/upmarket bistro/restaurant (I always find it hard to categorise eateries in Europe) we went for a little wander in the cobbled centre (the rain had finally ceased), where we came across a small group of guys singing Christmas carols, in English and German. It was simply delightful, and one of those great moments that really make a day. I would happily have stood there and listened to them sing all evening, but after about 20 minutes they were done, packed up, and left.
It was also during this hour or so, before our coach was due to set off back to Mons, that we realised how much we were both beginning to miss England. More accurately, how much living in Belgium was making us miss England.
As I mentioned in my November 4th post, whenever we go away now, we feel like we're "re-entering civilisation."
C's new boss has said that he'd happily let us extend our stay (again) for a further year, and thus not return until December 2013, but we've pretty much made up our minds, and want to be home this time next year.
We want our culture back.
The trip was billed as a chance to marvel at some of Europe's finest (ubiquitous) Christmas markets. Because me and C are so damn contrary, but more because we really have seen quite a lot of Christmas markets now, and to be honest, they're all much of a muchness, and sell the usual array of nothing particularly useful, we spent the whole day doing what we do best: wandering around, and stopping every now and again for food and drink.
Monschau is tiny and adorable, and seems to have been built specifically for tourists in mind, which of course it wasn't. It just feels like that. The weather was a shocker all day - heavy wind and driving rain, nice. - so we tried to limit outdoor time, and ducked into cafés more than even we would have liked to.
It was a bit like a fairytale kind of village: river running below, mini bridges, narrow side streets, inviting-looking cafés.
Enjoyed having a huge flapjack (surprisingly tasteless, even though it looked like it should have been delicious. Too dry) and coffee, whilst having a good natter with a group of middle-aged English women, sitting on the table next to us.
In the past, whenever I was away and heard English voices, I'd usually walk in the opposite direction. Since living abroad, I've begun to find the sound comforting and reassuring.
It was one of those very typical English conversations: lots of humour, lots of sarcasm, the odd bit of innuendo, a bit of a moan about the weather and how expensive things are in Europe (!), and how great it is to get away for a few days. All done without any kind of introductions, or any exchange of names or details about each other. Wonderful!
Aarchen was a lot easier to wander about in the rain, because it's an actual city and there was far more to see. The market was also quite big and actually had some good food stools.
The main cathedral was spectacular, sort of a mini version of the St Mark's Basilica in Venice. Really wasn't expecting something so impressive from the outside.
After having a decent meal at a trendy wine bar/upmarket bistro/restaurant (I always find it hard to categorise eateries in Europe) we went for a little wander in the cobbled centre (the rain had finally ceased), where we came across a small group of guys singing Christmas carols, in English and German. It was simply delightful, and one of those great moments that really make a day. I would happily have stood there and listened to them sing all evening, but after about 20 minutes they were done, packed up, and left.
It was also during this hour or so, before our coach was due to set off back to Mons, that we realised how much we were both beginning to miss England. More accurately, how much living in Belgium was making us miss England.
As I mentioned in my November 4th post, whenever we go away now, we feel like we're "re-entering civilisation."
C's new boss has said that he'd happily let us extend our stay (again) for a further year, and thus not return until December 2013, but we've pretty much made up our minds, and want to be home this time next year.
We want our culture back.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Wednesday 23 November - Pampered in Brussels
To celebrate our ten-year anniversary (the one where we first got together that is), we decided to take the day off work and head to Brussels for some pampering. Not wanting to trust something like this in Mons, we booked ourselves a day in a spa right at the heart of Brussels' EU quarter.
And a fine way to spend a day it was too. Not cheap (surely, you can guess what I'd write here?!), but well worth it. Access to all the usual facilities: pool, sauna, steam room, jacuzzi, and then we both treated ourselves to an hour massage, which was just heaven.
There was a great spa place we used to go to in Bristol, in Clifton, so this was a little taster of what we've been missing.
Finished off the day meeting our friend, who was over in Brussels for a few days doing academic-type work, for dinner at a good Morrocan place. Raved about on Tripadvisor, but not half as good as our little place in Mons.
See, it's not all bad here!
And a fine way to spend a day it was too. Not cheap (surely, you can guess what I'd write here?!), but well worth it. Access to all the usual facilities: pool, sauna, steam room, jacuzzi, and then we both treated ourselves to an hour massage, which was just heaven.
There was a great spa place we used to go to in Bristol, in Clifton, so this was a little taster of what we've been missing.
Finished off the day meeting our friend, who was over in Brussels for a few days doing academic-type work, for dinner at a good Morrocan place. Raved about on Tripadvisor, but not half as good as our little place in Mons.
See, it's not all bad here!
Friday, November 4, 2011
Friday 4 November - 2 Years!
And that's 2 years done.
Amazing to think that I've been living in Belgium, in Mons, for exactly two years. Before I began to write this post, I decided to re-read my previous summaries of my time here. After 3 months, 9 months, 1 year, and then 18 months.
It's funny looking back at them. They were so happy and optimistic and chirpy, almost innocently so. Most of the comments are the sort you'd expect someone to make who's new to a place, new to a country. And I stand by every word I wrote back then.
But, that doesn't mean my views have remained static. It's fair to say that whilst the gloss of living abroad remains intact, and the opportunities for travel that have come with it, my feelings about Mons and Belgium and Belgians have definitely shifted.
Whereas I used to enjoy not being rushed in a cafe or restaurant, with the waiters happy for you to take your time, in return for them to take their time in serving you, now it just annoys me.
I still like being able to spend a couple of hours sipping a lait russe, and like the nice little touch of a piece of chocolate or biscuit that accompanies it, but it does wind me up always having to wait so long to find someone to get the bill from, only to then wait another 10-15 minutes for it to arrive, and then a further 10 for your change to be returned.
But, mainly, it's the poor customer service that greets you when you enter somewhere. Or doesn't. You might get a nod or a grunt in your direction, but I've lost count of the number of times I've sat there waiting and waiting to be served. On a couple of occasions, me and C have just got up and gone elsewhere.
This also extends to the shops. I rarely find people working in them helpful or friendly. The service reminds me of all the things I used to loathe about customer service in England: the fact that you think you're putting someone out by asking for anything, or having to stand there and wait whilst they continue to chat with a colleague or friend.
The shops sell what I can only describe using a wonderful Yiddish word: schmatta. Basically, tat. Bits and bobs of nothing particularly useful. But, if you want your hair cut, or want to gorge on waffles, you're fine.
There's something quite socially inept about Belgians. They don't do day to day politeness.
I've mentioned this before but the lack of a thank you when you hold the door open for somebody, the not waiting until people have got off the train until you barge your way on, or the lack of apology if someone bumps into to you, whether deliberately or not, the inability to queue and then stay in one. All these things do grate, and maybe it's because I'm English and we're just so very different, but that's just how I feel.
I often think Belgians spend half their time with their head in the clouds. Almost slightly stoned, or just very vacant. They're the most placid people I've ever come across. Nothing seems to bother them. I'm not sure whether this is a good or a bad thing. They're champions at doing nothing. I guess with such a calibre of politicians for role models, who can blame them.
I still quite like Mons. It has character and charm, but there's very little to do here. And with winter round the corner, the sitting outside in the grand place routine will have to wait for a while.
I can't help but feel that a city like Mons in England would be far less shabby, better preserved, better kept. Some of the architecture is fabulous, but so much of it looks worse for wear.
The lack of culture is also difficult to contend with. I yearn for a trip to the theatre to see a play or a musical, or some live music.
A couple of months ago we actually went to see a friend of a friend's band play at a local bar. They were really good, but I just got irritated at having to find a table, where we were crammed in, and then having to wait about 20 minutes before someone took our order, and then who knows how long for it to arrive.
Something as simple as going to bar and getting a drink shouldn't be that difficult, but even the most basic of tasks seems beyond les Montois. This was certainly the night that I pined for a few drinks at a good ol' English pub, where you go to the bar and order. Save the table service for restaurants. You don't need it in a bar.
It's this kind of thing that wears you down eventually. I often ask myself: why is everything always so difficult?
I grew tired of Belgian food long ago. I came to the conclusion recently that it lacks finesse. There's nothing subtle about a diet which serves cream with everything. At least there are two places that do very good food, neither of them Belgian: the Moroccan and the Chinese. The former is actually a terrific restaurant, to which I've been numerous times.
And then there are the prices. I've got used to them, but that doesn't stop me having a grumble every now and then. I mean, how can you charge €18 for a starter, and then €20 for a main?
I think with every trip back to England, the more apparent the differences between the two countries become. I've now started to joke that when we visit another country, it's like re-entering civilisation.
Mons and Wallonia really are stuck in a 1970s time warp. Another year until I'm transported back to the future!.
Amazing to think that I've been living in Belgium, in Mons, for exactly two years. Before I began to write this post, I decided to re-read my previous summaries of my time here. After 3 months, 9 months, 1 year, and then 18 months.
It's funny looking back at them. They were so happy and optimistic and chirpy, almost innocently so. Most of the comments are the sort you'd expect someone to make who's new to a place, new to a country. And I stand by every word I wrote back then.
But, that doesn't mean my views have remained static. It's fair to say that whilst the gloss of living abroad remains intact, and the opportunities for travel that have come with it, my feelings about Mons and Belgium and Belgians have definitely shifted.
Whereas I used to enjoy not being rushed in a cafe or restaurant, with the waiters happy for you to take your time, in return for them to take their time in serving you, now it just annoys me.
I still like being able to spend a couple of hours sipping a lait russe, and like the nice little touch of a piece of chocolate or biscuit that accompanies it, but it does wind me up always having to wait so long to find someone to get the bill from, only to then wait another 10-15 minutes for it to arrive, and then a further 10 for your change to be returned.
But, mainly, it's the poor customer service that greets you when you enter somewhere. Or doesn't. You might get a nod or a grunt in your direction, but I've lost count of the number of times I've sat there waiting and waiting to be served. On a couple of occasions, me and C have just got up and gone elsewhere.
This also extends to the shops. I rarely find people working in them helpful or friendly. The service reminds me of all the things I used to loathe about customer service in England: the fact that you think you're putting someone out by asking for anything, or having to stand there and wait whilst they continue to chat with a colleague or friend.
The shops sell what I can only describe using a wonderful Yiddish word: schmatta. Basically, tat. Bits and bobs of nothing particularly useful. But, if you want your hair cut, or want to gorge on waffles, you're fine.
There's something quite socially inept about Belgians. They don't do day to day politeness.
I've mentioned this before but the lack of a thank you when you hold the door open for somebody, the not waiting until people have got off the train until you barge your way on, or the lack of apology if someone bumps into to you, whether deliberately or not, the inability to queue and then stay in one. All these things do grate, and maybe it's because I'm English and we're just so very different, but that's just how I feel.
I often think Belgians spend half their time with their head in the clouds. Almost slightly stoned, or just very vacant. They're the most placid people I've ever come across. Nothing seems to bother them. I'm not sure whether this is a good or a bad thing. They're champions at doing nothing. I guess with such a calibre of politicians for role models, who can blame them.
I still quite like Mons. It has character and charm, but there's very little to do here. And with winter round the corner, the sitting outside in the grand place routine will have to wait for a while.
I can't help but feel that a city like Mons in England would be far less shabby, better preserved, better kept. Some of the architecture is fabulous, but so much of it looks worse for wear.
The lack of culture is also difficult to contend with. I yearn for a trip to the theatre to see a play or a musical, or some live music.
A couple of months ago we actually went to see a friend of a friend's band play at a local bar. They were really good, but I just got irritated at having to find a table, where we were crammed in, and then having to wait about 20 minutes before someone took our order, and then who knows how long for it to arrive.
Something as simple as going to bar and getting a drink shouldn't be that difficult, but even the most basic of tasks seems beyond les Montois. This was certainly the night that I pined for a few drinks at a good ol' English pub, where you go to the bar and order. Save the table service for restaurants. You don't need it in a bar.
It's this kind of thing that wears you down eventually. I often ask myself: why is everything always so difficult?
I grew tired of Belgian food long ago. I came to the conclusion recently that it lacks finesse. There's nothing subtle about a diet which serves cream with everything. At least there are two places that do very good food, neither of them Belgian: the Moroccan and the Chinese. The former is actually a terrific restaurant, to which I've been numerous times.
And then there are the prices. I've got used to them, but that doesn't stop me having a grumble every now and then. I mean, how can you charge €18 for a starter, and then €20 for a main?
I think with every trip back to England, the more apparent the differences between the two countries become. I've now started to joke that when we visit another country, it's like re-entering civilisation.
Mons and Wallonia really are stuck in a 1970s time warp. Another year until I'm transported back to the future!.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Saturday 29 October - Durbuy
To the Ardennes, at last. A beautiful, crisp, autumnal morning, giving way to a bright and mild afternoon, provided the backdrop to my first trip down south. Further south than I've ever been in Belgium.
Very hard to believe you're still in Wallonia. Such a contrast to the drab industrialism found in its cities. Went along with friends, and we really couldn't have picked a better day. The colours of autumn were in full bloom with browns, and oranges, and reds protruding from every vantage point. It really was a magical sight.
The village itself is attractive, without being prissy, and was relatively free of the usual hordes of tourists villages in the Ardennes are famed for. Although there was a lot of Dutch being spoken. Not the Flems this time, but Dutch as spoken by the Dutch. Didn't hear much French anywhere we went.
Having grown rather tired of Belgian cuisine, we settled on a picnic for lunch, and sat on a grassy bank alongside the main car park, but in front of the river. Seemed like the perfect spot for it, and I was surprised that others hadn't thought of the idea. We even had our picnic rug. "You can take the English out of England..."
Walking around the place reminded me a little of Luxembourg. Funny that, considering Durbuy is in the Belgian province of Luxembourg. Or maybe an archetypal English village, possibly Boscastle, in Cornwall, where I went a couple of years back.
Only here the valleys were a lot smaller, and without the dramatic drops down below. The forest in the distance, the small bridges, and the river running through it, all helped give it a special feel.
I've heard that this place looks spectacular around Christmas time, with all the lights on and decorations up. Even more so when the snow arrives. I can imagine.
Very hard to believe you're still in Wallonia. Such a contrast to the drab industrialism found in its cities. Went along with friends, and we really couldn't have picked a better day. The colours of autumn were in full bloom with browns, and oranges, and reds protruding from every vantage point. It really was a magical sight.
The village itself is attractive, without being prissy, and was relatively free of the usual hordes of tourists villages in the Ardennes are famed for. Although there was a lot of Dutch being spoken. Not the Flems this time, but Dutch as spoken by the Dutch. Didn't hear much French anywhere we went.
Having grown rather tired of Belgian cuisine, we settled on a picnic for lunch, and sat on a grassy bank alongside the main car park, but in front of the river. Seemed like the perfect spot for it, and I was surprised that others hadn't thought of the idea. We even had our picnic rug. "You can take the English out of England..."
Walking around the place reminded me a little of Luxembourg. Funny that, considering Durbuy is in the Belgian province of Luxembourg. Or maybe an archetypal English village, possibly Boscastle, in Cornwall, where I went a couple of years back.
Only here the valleys were a lot smaller, and without the dramatic drops down below. The forest in the distance, the small bridges, and the river running through it, all helped give it a special feel.
I've heard that this place looks spectacular around Christmas time, with all the lights on and decorations up. Even more so when the snow arrives. I can imagine.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Sunday 23 October - Villers La Ville
Home of the ruins of a very famous abbey, not far from Charleroi.
Had to change trains here and hop on a two carriage jobby, which then chugs it way along a very small line, stopping every few minutes at the kind of train station that Network Rail would have loved to have consigned to extinction long ago. The kind where about two people get on, and either one or none get off. It really felt like a blast from the past.
When I got off the train you're immediately confronted by a row of houses and a street with about two shops on it.
The walk to the abbey led us through a small forest, running parallel with peoples' homes, and the obligatory barking dog every few hundred yards or so. It reminded me of being back in the English countryside: the purity of the air, the tranquility, the nature. I've been so starved of greenery these last two years that this really came as a welcome relief.
The abbey really is well worth the visit. For a while we were the only people around. It was one of those days where it was freezing out of the sun, but glorious in it. I kept positioning myself in its glare; the shade being far too cold for a wimp like me.
A huge place, where you're still able to see the scant remains of some of the rooms, such as the kitchen, dining room and servants quarters. I love these kind of things.
Yesterday evening there had been some sort of function, with the media in attendance, which explained the discarded tea lights scattered all over the place, and the remains of a few of those giant candles, and candle holders, still propped up against the walls. It must have looked amazing at night. Incredibly atmospheric, but ever so slightly haunting, out in the open, all exposed, with just the forest for company.
On a warmer day, a great spot for a picnic. Instead, we lunched at a bistro/pub type place, which from the outside looked like something straight out of Switzerland, with the building dwarfed by the forest around it. It was us, and dozens of bikers for company.
A lovely way to pass a few hours.
Had to change trains here and hop on a two carriage jobby, which then chugs it way along a very small line, stopping every few minutes at the kind of train station that Network Rail would have loved to have consigned to extinction long ago. The kind where about two people get on, and either one or none get off. It really felt like a blast from the past.
When I got off the train you're immediately confronted by a row of houses and a street with about two shops on it.
The walk to the abbey led us through a small forest, running parallel with peoples' homes, and the obligatory barking dog every few hundred yards or so. It reminded me of being back in the English countryside: the purity of the air, the tranquility, the nature. I've been so starved of greenery these last two years that this really came as a welcome relief.
The abbey really is well worth the visit. For a while we were the only people around. It was one of those days where it was freezing out of the sun, but glorious in it. I kept positioning myself in its glare; the shade being far too cold for a wimp like me.
A huge place, where you're still able to see the scant remains of some of the rooms, such as the kitchen, dining room and servants quarters. I love these kind of things.
Yesterday evening there had been some sort of function, with the media in attendance, which explained the discarded tea lights scattered all over the place, and the remains of a few of those giant candles, and candle holders, still propped up against the walls. It must have looked amazing at night. Incredibly atmospheric, but ever so slightly haunting, out in the open, all exposed, with just the forest for company.
On a warmer day, a great spot for a picnic. Instead, we lunched at a bistro/pub type place, which from the outside looked like something straight out of Switzerland, with the building dwarfed by the forest around it. It was us, and dozens of bikers for company.
A lovely way to pass a few hours.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Tuesday 11 October - A Breakthrough (many of them)
This is an article I've had published elsewhere which outlines some of the successes that have taken place over the last few weeks with regards to the forming of a new government. We're almost there! It doesn't go into too much detail about the successes, but acts more as a background as to why modern day Belgium is the way it is.
So, rather than repeating myself, I'll attach a link to what I wrote about it and which can be seen on my website:
http://benmitchellwrites.blogspot.com/2011/10/making-sense-of-belgiums-political.html
So, rather than repeating myself, I'll attach a link to what I wrote about it and which can be seen on my website:
http://benmitchellwrites.blogspot.com/2011/10/making-sense-of-belgiums-political.html
Friday, October 7, 2011
Thursday 6 October - Independence? No, thanks!
Another one of those "do you want Belgium to survive?" type surveys came out today. And this time produced some unexpected results.
A poll of over a thousand Flemings found that three-quarters of them do not want Belgium to split up. Only 22% supported an independent Flanders. However, this figure rises to 56% for supporters of Flanders' far right party, Vlaams Belang (VB). Which, if you think about it, is still a lot lower for a party that advocates complete Flemish independence as its raison d'etre than it should be. Surely, it would be somewhere up in the 80s, or even 90s, otherwise why would you support such a party?
Its strong views on immigration (limit it. A lot) probably provide more of an attraction for its supporters than its call for independence. Hence, it represents something of a protest vote, rather than a deep-seated desire to see Belgium break up.
Only 37% of those who back Bart De Wever's Flemish nationalists/separatists, N-VA, also support independence, with 61% against. Another really surprising stat. A bit of a slap in the face to the Flemish nationalists I'd say.
30% of all those polled still believe, however, that Flemish independence is inevitable within ten years, with 66% saying it's not.
And, fully 73% of those quizzed said they were proud to be Belgian, rising to 80% for younger Flemings.
No matter what the nationalists may say, support for Flemish independence currently isn't there. Having said that, they are stil heavily backed by voters in Flanders, but probably not for the reasons they think.
A poll of over a thousand Flemings found that three-quarters of them do not want Belgium to split up. Only 22% supported an independent Flanders. However, this figure rises to 56% for supporters of Flanders' far right party, Vlaams Belang (VB). Which, if you think about it, is still a lot lower for a party that advocates complete Flemish independence as its raison d'etre than it should be. Surely, it would be somewhere up in the 80s, or even 90s, otherwise why would you support such a party?
Its strong views on immigration (limit it. A lot) probably provide more of an attraction for its supporters than its call for independence. Hence, it represents something of a protest vote, rather than a deep-seated desire to see Belgium break up.
Only 37% of those who back Bart De Wever's Flemish nationalists/separatists, N-VA, also support independence, with 61% against. Another really surprising stat. A bit of a slap in the face to the Flemish nationalists I'd say.
30% of all those polled still believe, however, that Flemish independence is inevitable within ten years, with 66% saying it's not.
And, fully 73% of those quizzed said they were proud to be Belgian, rising to 80% for younger Flemings.
No matter what the nationalists may say, support for Flemish independence currently isn't there. Having said that, they are stil heavily backed by voters in Flanders, but probably not for the reasons they think.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Saturday 17 September - More Footy
Not content with finally seeing my first bit of live football in Belgium, I decided it was right that I go along and cheer on my local team: RAEC Mons. They were playing the Flemish outfit, Yellow-Red KV Mechelen. I mean, what a name! And the who hell came up with it? Try getting that all into a chant!
Mons are bit of a yo-yo team in that they often find themselves in Belgium's top division one year, only to be relegated to the second division a year later. This season they're back in the big time.
Another good game of football, and another superb atmosphere. Les Montois behind the goal made an absolute racket for the full 90mins, with a wide repertoire of songs. As in England, they were all stood up, in spite of there being seats, which they used to stand on instead. This would never be allowed in England.
Mechelen also brought with them a healthy number of fans, several hundred, which is good for Belgium. I think their songs were sung in Dutch but it was impossible to tell.
What I looked forward to was the dynamic between the two sets of fans: the Walloons vs. the Flemish. Surely, there'd be lots of anti-Walloon and anti-Flemish chanting? My lack of fluent French and non-existent Dutch meant that this was hard for me to know. There was the odd bit of banter between the fans but it all seemed in very good nature.
A regular at Mons told me that their supporters are extremely well behaved and in particular tend to show a lot of respect when the big teams come.
Bizarrely, or not, you're not allowed to take food into the ground, but have to eat the stuff from the vendors outside before you take your seat. However, you can buy alcohol in the ground, and even though it's not permitted, several people were smoking. Again, the over-zealous stewards in England would come down on them like a ton of bricks, but this is Belgium we're talking about. Remember, rules are not made to be followed.
Fine evening's entertainment: Mons stuffed em' 5-1.
Mons are bit of a yo-yo team in that they often find themselves in Belgium's top division one year, only to be relegated to the second division a year later. This season they're back in the big time.
Another good game of football, and another superb atmosphere. Les Montois behind the goal made an absolute racket for the full 90mins, with a wide repertoire of songs. As in England, they were all stood up, in spite of there being seats, which they used to stand on instead. This would never be allowed in England.
Mechelen also brought with them a healthy number of fans, several hundred, which is good for Belgium. I think their songs were sung in Dutch but it was impossible to tell.
What I looked forward to was the dynamic between the two sets of fans: the Walloons vs. the Flemish. Surely, there'd be lots of anti-Walloon and anti-Flemish chanting? My lack of fluent French and non-existent Dutch meant that this was hard for me to know. There was the odd bit of banter between the fans but it all seemed in very good nature.
A regular at Mons told me that their supporters are extremely well behaved and in particular tend to show a lot of respect when the big teams come.
Bizarrely, or not, you're not allowed to take food into the ground, but have to eat the stuff from the vendors outside before you take your seat. However, you can buy alcohol in the ground, and even though it's not permitted, several people were smoking. Again, the over-zealous stewards in England would come down on them like a ton of bricks, but this is Belgium we're talking about. Remember, rules are not made to be followed.
Fine evening's entertainment: Mons stuffed em' 5-1.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Thursday 15 September - Off to the Footy
I have finally been to see a football match in Belgium. Shocking that it's taken me so long, but there you have it. The offer, from someone who works at the same place as C, of a free ticket in the press box to see Anderlecht vs. AEK Athens was just too good an offer to turn down.
Okay, so it was only a Europa League match, a competition English teams reluctantly take part in, but it was a cracking evening.
I've always been intrigued by football in Belgium. For example, Anderlecht, a team who plays in a Brussels suburb, a bilingual city, with a very Flemish-sounding name: would the supporters be French or Dutch-speakers, or a mixture of both? Which language would the chants be in? What would the quality of the football be like?
We arrived just over an hour before kick-off and headed towards the stadium. Just outside it, the usual mingling of fans, congregating by bars and downing several plastic cups' worth of Jupiler. I guess it makes sense not to serve the really strong stuff to a load of football supporters.
There were also several burger vans and even more friterie vans. If frites were ever designed to be eaten at a social occasion, a football match would certainly be it. Breaking with tradition, I had a couple of beers, and then had to satisfy the munchies with a portion of frites, absolutely smothered in ketchup, and against my better judgement, a burger.
Not the kind of thing I would ever normally eat, but I was feeling pretty peckish and the meat looked meaty enough to me. Wasn't too bad, actually.
As "press," we were of course entitled to go to the press room, where there were complimentary baguettes, soft drinks and coffee. Everyone got a press pack, which contained all the facts and figures about the two teams, and the head-to-head stats. We also got the team sheet printed out.
The room had a door which led straight out onto the press box: two long rows designated solely for journalists with space for them to put their laptops on, sockets, and free wifi. It was funny seeing rows of laptops with different journalists from various media outlets tapping away during the match. Reminded me that, for a while, this was the job I wanted to do. Until I realised that it'd take away my enjoyment from actually watching the match. Or until I realised that politics was far more interesting!
I have to say, it was one of the coolest ways to spend the evening. It was so much fun, especially as I was the only one not doing any work, and breaking protocol by secretly taking photos everytime a club official's back was turned. No photos allowed for the written media. Seemed a bit bizarre to me. And you know me, not one to follow stupidly made rules.
The match itself was a pretty decent game: 4-1 to Anderlecht. The Greeks were never really in it, and they didn't do justice to their several hundred fans, housed in one of the top tiers, and who sang continuously the whole evening. The homes fans also made a good bit of noise too.
Considering this was only the opening match of the competition, the atmosphere was amazing: almost non-stop chanting. Most of the Anderlecht songs were indeed sung in English. Nice. Find a happy medium. Avoid offending either French or Dutch-speaking supporters and stick to English. We after all do have all the best chants.
Announcements over the tannoy were however made in both French and Dutch. What a pain having to do that all the time. Before and after the game I tried to listen to what language was being spoken by the fans, and it was probably a 50-50 French-Dutch split.
You see, sport brings everyone together.
Okay, so it was only a Europa League match, a competition English teams reluctantly take part in, but it was a cracking evening.
I've always been intrigued by football in Belgium. For example, Anderlecht, a team who plays in a Brussels suburb, a bilingual city, with a very Flemish-sounding name: would the supporters be French or Dutch-speakers, or a mixture of both? Which language would the chants be in? What would the quality of the football be like?
We arrived just over an hour before kick-off and headed towards the stadium. Just outside it, the usual mingling of fans, congregating by bars and downing several plastic cups' worth of Jupiler. I guess it makes sense not to serve the really strong stuff to a load of football supporters.
There were also several burger vans and even more friterie vans. If frites were ever designed to be eaten at a social occasion, a football match would certainly be it. Breaking with tradition, I had a couple of beers, and then had to satisfy the munchies with a portion of frites, absolutely smothered in ketchup, and against my better judgement, a burger.
Not the kind of thing I would ever normally eat, but I was feeling pretty peckish and the meat looked meaty enough to me. Wasn't too bad, actually.
As "press," we were of course entitled to go to the press room, where there were complimentary baguettes, soft drinks and coffee. Everyone got a press pack, which contained all the facts and figures about the two teams, and the head-to-head stats. We also got the team sheet printed out.
The room had a door which led straight out onto the press box: two long rows designated solely for journalists with space for them to put their laptops on, sockets, and free wifi. It was funny seeing rows of laptops with different journalists from various media outlets tapping away during the match. Reminded me that, for a while, this was the job I wanted to do. Until I realised that it'd take away my enjoyment from actually watching the match. Or until I realised that politics was far more interesting!
I have to say, it was one of the coolest ways to spend the evening. It was so much fun, especially as I was the only one not doing any work, and breaking protocol by secretly taking photos everytime a club official's back was turned. No photos allowed for the written media. Seemed a bit bizarre to me. And you know me, not one to follow stupidly made rules.
The match itself was a pretty decent game: 4-1 to Anderlecht. The Greeks were never really in it, and they didn't do justice to their several hundred fans, housed in one of the top tiers, and who sang continuously the whole evening. The homes fans also made a good bit of noise too.
Considering this was only the opening match of the competition, the atmosphere was amazing: almost non-stop chanting. Most of the Anderlecht songs were indeed sung in English. Nice. Find a happy medium. Avoid offending either French or Dutch-speaking supporters and stick to English. We after all do have all the best chants.
Announcements over the tannoy were however made in both French and Dutch. What a pain having to do that all the time. Before and after the game I tried to listen to what language was being spoken by the fans, and it was probably a 50-50 French-Dutch split.
You see, sport brings everyone together.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Thursday 15 September - A Breakthrough
It had to happen eventually. Elio Di Rupo has announced that the eight parties (excluding De Wever's N-VA) have finally reached some agreement over the formation of the national government, a mere 15 months after the General Election.
One of the main issues had been a dispute over Bruxelles-Hal-Vilvorde (BHV), a district which is uniquely bilingual, rather than French or Dutch-speaking. I won't go over the controversies again as I've already done so before. This, however, is only one of several issues to be resolved.
This comes off the back that, hilariously, the out-going (although he never went anywhere), PM, Yves Leterme announced this week that he had got himself a new job at the OECD. Clearly bored with waiting and waiting, he's cheekily been applying for work, and finally landed himself a plum job in Paris.
This breakthrough is a start. A very good one, but there are still other issues to be wrangled over before everyone can finally see in a new government for Belgium.
One of the main issues had been a dispute over Bruxelles-Hal-Vilvorde (BHV), a district which is uniquely bilingual, rather than French or Dutch-speaking. I won't go over the controversies again as I've already done so before. This, however, is only one of several issues to be resolved.
This comes off the back that, hilariously, the out-going (although he never went anywhere), PM, Yves Leterme announced this week that he had got himself a new job at the OECD. Clearly bored with waiting and waiting, he's cheekily been applying for work, and finally landed himself a plum job in Paris.
This breakthrough is a start. A very good one, but there are still other issues to be wrangled over before everyone can finally see in a new government for Belgium.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Thurs 1 Sept - Mon 5 Sept: Bordeaux
Yet another fabulous French city. I've wanted to go to Bordeaux for ages. Had heard great things about it. Also wanted to see how south west France compared to south west England, and of course my home city, Brizzle. And quite simply because I like the sound of its name, and of course its wine.
Bordeaux is stylish, chic, elegant, with wonderfully wide and grand boulevards. Because it's such a flat and spacious city, there are cyclists and cycle paths everywhere. Something you still don't find as often as you should. There's just no excuse not to have them in cities and towns. It's only a lack of political will, the irritating and pesky petrol-head lobby, and downright short-sightedness that stops them proliferating.
Apparently, as recently as a decade ago, Bordeaux was not much to look at, which is hard to believe when you see it in all its present day glory. The buildings all look beautifully preserved, and the main centre (which has had the most work done to it - not so much 'old Bordeaux' anymore, as new-old Bordeaux) is just terrific.
Mini square upon mini square dominate, filled with the prerequisite, numerous cafés and eateries. Each square had something special about it, and we spent many an afternoon/evening in at least one of them.
Because of the huge number of students there, it has a very youthful and lively feel to it. It's also full of some seriously attractive people. Rivals to those Flemish folk. So, you have the dark, sexy types of Bordeaux vs. the fair, wholesome, north Europeans of Flanders, or the blonde supermodels of Oslo. Tough choice. There's an academic study in there somewhere.
The food was mixed. Not a patch on the Cote D'Azur, although found something in common with Mons: poor, painfully slow, service. We did discover a great Asian street food place, serving the kind of stuff you can easily find all over England, but which is severely lacking in Wallonia. The "waiters" were those 'too cool for school' types, who are more interested in dancing to the funky beats that blare out across the restaurant, than in actually serving customers.
I also discovered white Bordeaux wine, which I didn't even know existed. The best white vino I have ever tasted: smooth, dry, and without that warm and sometimes sickly aftertaste that I often find with white wine.
Did a tour of a couple of the vineyards, which is a must in this region. Unfortunately, it wasn't a particularly good tour. The guide never shut up for almost the entire journey there. You're trying to admire the scenery around you, when all you can hear is her blathering away about something or other: the history, why the land is the way it is, who ruled the area.
We only got to sample three different types of wines, and nobody ever told us how to taste the wine, what to look out for, what flavours to expect. Surely, this is a must for a wine tour? In future, what I want is a tour which just deals with the wine, and involves sampling a (preferably) large number of wines, with explanations of what we should be looking out for as we taste it. I really don't care how wine is made. This was pretty much what the tour was about. I'm such a philistine!
In summary, Bordeaux just felt like somewhere that has a high quality of life. It's only 3 hours away from Paris, direct, on the high-speed TVG but, without a high-speed link to Nice, a 9 hour night train journey away from the French Riviera. Either way, I'd have no qualms about living there.
Bordeaux is stylish, chic, elegant, with wonderfully wide and grand boulevards. Because it's such a flat and spacious city, there are cyclists and cycle paths everywhere. Something you still don't find as often as you should. There's just no excuse not to have them in cities and towns. It's only a lack of political will, the irritating and pesky petrol-head lobby, and downright short-sightedness that stops them proliferating.
Apparently, as recently as a decade ago, Bordeaux was not much to look at, which is hard to believe when you see it in all its present day glory. The buildings all look beautifully preserved, and the main centre (which has had the most work done to it - not so much 'old Bordeaux' anymore, as new-old Bordeaux) is just terrific.
Mini square upon mini square dominate, filled with the prerequisite, numerous cafés and eateries. Each square had something special about it, and we spent many an afternoon/evening in at least one of them.
Because of the huge number of students there, it has a very youthful and lively feel to it. It's also full of some seriously attractive people. Rivals to those Flemish folk. So, you have the dark, sexy types of Bordeaux vs. the fair, wholesome, north Europeans of Flanders, or the blonde supermodels of Oslo. Tough choice. There's an academic study in there somewhere.
The food was mixed. Not a patch on the Cote D'Azur, although found something in common with Mons: poor, painfully slow, service. We did discover a great Asian street food place, serving the kind of stuff you can easily find all over England, but which is severely lacking in Wallonia. The "waiters" were those 'too cool for school' types, who are more interested in dancing to the funky beats that blare out across the restaurant, than in actually serving customers.
I also discovered white Bordeaux wine, which I didn't even know existed. The best white vino I have ever tasted: smooth, dry, and without that warm and sometimes sickly aftertaste that I often find with white wine.
Did a tour of a couple of the vineyards, which is a must in this region. Unfortunately, it wasn't a particularly good tour. The guide never shut up for almost the entire journey there. You're trying to admire the scenery around you, when all you can hear is her blathering away about something or other: the history, why the land is the way it is, who ruled the area.
We only got to sample three different types of wines, and nobody ever told us how to taste the wine, what to look out for, what flavours to expect. Surely, this is a must for a wine tour? In future, what I want is a tour which just deals with the wine, and involves sampling a (preferably) large number of wines, with explanations of what we should be looking out for as we taste it. I really don't care how wine is made. This was pretty much what the tour was about. I'm such a philistine!
In summary, Bordeaux just felt like somewhere that has a high quality of life. It's only 3 hours away from Paris, direct, on the high-speed TVG but, without a high-speed link to Nice, a 9 hour night train journey away from the French Riviera. Either way, I'd have no qualms about living there.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sat 27 August - Sun 28 August
This was Tanks in Town weekend. A procession of tanks pour into the centre of Mons to commerate the liberation of the city by the allies in 1944. It was a really nice and fun (if that's the appropriate word) occasion.
At first everyone is kept behind barriers whilst each and every armoured vehicle enters the Grand Place. Once they were all in, you were able to walk around and inspect and touch them. You could also chat to the people driving them. Judging by their appearance, safe to say that no one there was actually involved in the war. I guess there comes a certain age when driving a tank is probably no longer deemed safe.
At first everyone is kept behind barriers whilst each and every armoured vehicle enters the Grand Place. Once they were all in, you were able to walk around and inspect and touch them. You could also chat to the people driving them. Judging by their appearance, safe to say that no one there was actually involved in the war. I guess there comes a certain age when driving a tank is probably no longer deemed safe.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Mon 22 August
Summer has been a bit of a damp squib. Following on from what happened last year, August has been a pretty wet and unsettled affair. Although at least we had a scorching July last time around. This year, one day sun, then rain, then sun again. Has felt very English.
I heard the weather forecast the other day on Radio 4. It said "sunny spells, with occasional showers." That's pretty much how you could sum up an English summer.
Well, July was supposed to be the quiet month work-wise, but I actually had quite a bit of work in the end. It's been August that's been the quiet month this summer. Almost all of my students have at some point taken the obligatory 3-4 weeks off.
And if they're not abroad, they're doing up their house. Everyone seems to follow a very definite pattern throughout the year: January-February, go skiing. April-May, woodcutting(don't ask). And summer is time for renovation and/or painting and decorating. They're all at it.
Have been using my spare time to write, write and write. Have notions of becoming a freelance political writer/analyst, or whatever you want to call it. Partly inspired by my desire to try and do something other than a souless office job when I eventually get back to England. Of course I'll probably have to, for a while, until I find something else.
But, the writing gives me something else to focus on. And maybe a way out at some point in the future. And I like it. A lot. And I'm quite good at it. I think. In the name of cross-referencing/convergence, or whatever you want to call it, here are three articles that I've recently had published on the political blog Left Foot Forward, it being of the left/liberal persuasion. They were on: UK riots, the price of trains, and health and safety.
Have also found out that there will be no option to extend our stay in Belgium beyond our 3 year period. C will have to do a handover to her successor for a few weeks, which will mean moving back to England end of November/beginning of December 2012. Trying not to think too much about it at the moment. Have been in a bit of an anti-Belgium mood for weeks now. After almost 2 years here, you get a decent idea of how things work, or don't, as is usually the case.
Needless to say, I shall return to this familiar theme in the future. The thought of leaving behind our new wonderful friends though is not something I'm looking forward to.
There are however many, many things I cannot wait to get back to when I return. That's still a long way off, but another theme I'll return to - stay tuned!
I heard the weather forecast the other day on Radio 4. It said "sunny spells, with occasional showers." That's pretty much how you could sum up an English summer.
Well, July was supposed to be the quiet month work-wise, but I actually had quite a bit of work in the end. It's been August that's been the quiet month this summer. Almost all of my students have at some point taken the obligatory 3-4 weeks off.
And if they're not abroad, they're doing up their house. Everyone seems to follow a very definite pattern throughout the year: January-February, go skiing. April-May, woodcutting(don't ask). And summer is time for renovation and/or painting and decorating. They're all at it.
Have been using my spare time to write, write and write. Have notions of becoming a freelance political writer/analyst, or whatever you want to call it. Partly inspired by my desire to try and do something other than a souless office job when I eventually get back to England. Of course I'll probably have to, for a while, until I find something else.
But, the writing gives me something else to focus on. And maybe a way out at some point in the future. And I like it. A lot. And I'm quite good at it. I think. In the name of cross-referencing/convergence, or whatever you want to call it, here are three articles that I've recently had published on the political blog Left Foot Forward, it being of the left/liberal persuasion. They were on: UK riots, the price of trains, and health and safety.
Have also found out that there will be no option to extend our stay in Belgium beyond our 3 year period. C will have to do a handover to her successor for a few weeks, which will mean moving back to England end of November/beginning of December 2012. Trying not to think too much about it at the moment. Have been in a bit of an anti-Belgium mood for weeks now. After almost 2 years here, you get a decent idea of how things work, or don't, as is usually the case.
Needless to say, I shall return to this familiar theme in the future. The thought of leaving behind our new wonderful friends though is not something I'm looking forward to.
There are however many, many things I cannot wait to get back to when I return. That's still a long way off, but another theme I'll return to - stay tuned!
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