Une petite ville
Namur is a typical Belgian village. The buses only run until 21:30 (resulting in an expensive taxi ride to the hotel), an H&M, McDonalds, Pizza hut, internet café, waffle stands, and weekend festival.
In this particular town on this particular weekend it is the Fete de la Wallonie. The Walloons are the French who fought the Flemish and live in 90% of the lower part of Belgium. They like their waffels. They also like their peckets. What is a Pecket?? It is some vodka-fruit thing that comes in dozens of flavours and colours and which they sell in booths all over the city. To adults and children alike. (There are some flavours that no self-respecting adult would imbibe). And it is dirt cheap. Coke Light (Although in this region Pepsi is around more) 1.80€, Pecket 1.00. And if you buy 5 you get one free.
When I arrived in the city last night the streets were flooded with swarms of very drunk teenagers. This afternoon nothing has changed. I am all for a party, but it is really, realy tiring being at THIS party. Crowds of people go around screaming. There are brass bands playing everything from Sweet Georgia Brown to Ne Me Quitte Pas. People are dressed in Wallonie outfit which is frankly ridiculous looking. (But so is the WORD Walloonie) There are stands sekking Champignons and Stella Artois and Barbe a Papa. It is a big french party, and I am probably the only one here alone.
Not that that fact goes unnoticed by the local boys 'ça va bien?' is the usual pick-up line.
I have learned the following words: Callotte
um.. I had a whole list but I cant remember them now. This list will be lenghtened.
Today is the day when I officially been Gone Too Long. Walking around the streets hurts. Steps hurt even more (YOU try trudging along the highway weeds and mud in the rain sometime...). My clothes are either dirty or wet (I washed a bunch yesterday but they did not dry, making the bag even heavier). The bag - my GORGEOUS Air Canada purple bag, my first own piece of luggage - is almost unusable. My make a sidewalk when you can pave the only way to the bus stop with STONES? Unfurtunately, the suitcase wheels don't understand and are wearing away. Paris subway ruined the shape of the bag. My fab Roots shoe bag (from the clearance bin at Staples) is coming apart too. My clothes are looking decidedly ratty, and worst of all, my TMJ Retainer is missing. I haveno idea what to do about that. I tore my bag apart trying to find it. (I did find a box of Jewellery I thought I had lost. I ADORE that jewellery so that was sure a relief). But the retainer costs $500.00. I already called the hotel in Antwerp twice but they don't have it. Cry. Travelling isn't fun anymore. I am dreading going to Rome because it means more hauling of bags and walking and walking and being so tired. I am VERY tempted to just leave early, but that would be a stupid thing to do. Sigh..
In this particular town on this particular weekend it is the Fete de la Wallonie. The Walloons are the French who fought the Flemish and live in 90% of the lower part of Belgium. They like their waffels. They also like their peckets. What is a Pecket?? It is some vodka-fruit thing that comes in dozens of flavours and colours and which they sell in booths all over the city. To adults and children alike. (There are some flavours that no self-respecting adult would imbibe). And it is dirt cheap. Coke Light (Although in this region Pepsi is around more) 1.80€, Pecket 1.00. And if you buy 5 you get one free.
When I arrived in the city last night the streets were flooded with swarms of very drunk teenagers. This afternoon nothing has changed. I am all for a party, but it is really, realy tiring being at THIS party. Crowds of people go around screaming. There are brass bands playing everything from Sweet Georgia Brown to Ne Me Quitte Pas. People are dressed in Wallonie outfit which is frankly ridiculous looking. (But so is the WORD Walloonie) There are stands sekking Champignons and Stella Artois and Barbe a Papa. It is a big french party, and I am probably the only one here alone.
Not that that fact goes unnoticed by the local boys 'ça va bien?' is the usual pick-up line.
I have learned the following words: Callotte
um.. I had a whole list but I cant remember them now. This list will be lenghtened.
Today is the day when I officially been Gone Too Long. Walking around the streets hurts. Steps hurt even more (YOU try trudging along the highway weeds and mud in the rain sometime...). My clothes are either dirty or wet (I washed a bunch yesterday but they did not dry, making the bag even heavier). The bag - my GORGEOUS Air Canada purple bag, my first own piece of luggage - is almost unusable. My make a sidewalk when you can pave the only way to the bus stop with STONES? Unfurtunately, the suitcase wheels don't understand and are wearing away. Paris subway ruined the shape of the bag. My fab Roots shoe bag (from the clearance bin at Staples) is coming apart too. My clothes are looking decidedly ratty, and worst of all, my TMJ Retainer is missing. I haveno idea what to do about that. I tore my bag apart trying to find it. (I did find a box of Jewellery I thought I had lost. I ADORE that jewellery so that was sure a relief). But the retainer costs $500.00. I already called the hotel in Antwerp twice but they don't have it. Cry. Travelling isn't fun anymore. I am dreading going to Rome because it means more hauling of bags and walking and walking and being so tired. I am VERY tempted to just leave early, but that would be a stupid thing to do. Sigh..
posted by Melamondiale @ 6:21 AM
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