Fidgeting Wildly

OK, so I guess it's high time I got around to wrapping up the last week of my time in Belgium. When I last left you I had updated you about my trip to Amsterdam, leaving me with three nights in Europe. "Three nights is hardly enough time for anything interesting to happen!" I hear you saying. "There's no more travel except the boring trip back to New York!" others are crying.

If you thought that, you would be wrong. (Well, okay, it does depend somewhat on your perspective on what defines "interesting," but I digress.)

Tuesday night I traveled to Leuven, roughly a 30-minute train ride east of Brussels, to visit my high school friend Miles, who has been a graduate student there for what seems like decades. He says he's almost done his Ph.D. I think he just likes living in Leuven, personally. He described Brussels to me as "a pit" I believe. Coming from New York, I thought Brussels was anything but a pit, I have to say.

Miles and I had a lovely steak frites dinner at a cafe in the town's Grote Markt, and a rousing discussion about the role of the media in political discourse. (He's a philosophy major...) It was quite fun, although given my early start at work it was a bit too brief.

The next night I met Roeland, a Belgian friend of mine, to go to Gent, where there is a 10-day outdoor music festival every summer. The entire town is closed off, and the city sets up about 10 stages. To my surprise, I learned that Centro-Matic were playing that night, so Roeland and I went to see them do a fine set. I've met a couple of the band members on a few occasions, so I had Roeland ask a Flemish-speaking security guy to get the attention of keyboard player Scott Danbom while the band was breaking down their gear. I'm still not entirely sure if the look on his face was bewilderment as to who I was (he's never seen me with a beard before) or just pure astonishment that someone he's only seen in New York and Austin, TX, before, was now at a show in Belgium. Either way, he looked mighty perplexed.

After their set, Roeland and I wandered about the city, which was quite fun. There are food and beer stands everywhere, and people just walk the streets drinking and eating. Roeland and I got a bit of a late start getting back to the train station for the final train back to Brussels, and we apparently therefore had to rush. Yet Roeland stopped and talked to three people at a tram stop for several minutes. We then hailed a bicycle taxi for about six blocks, but that was barely moving faster than people walking, so Roeland asked the driver to let us off. (Now, remember, we're in a hurry.) Roeland then said "I think we need to run.... but I'm going to get a beer around the corner." We both bought beers from a streetside vending machine, and then, yes, ran to the train station, arriving with just four minutes to spare.

And, predictably, the train was 25 minutes late.

Nonetheless, I made it back to Brussels, reported for work the next day for the last time in Europe, and went out with my colleagues the following night for a fun night. To Tina, Jones, Barbara and Jennifer, thanks for making it a fun five weeks. I caught the last metro back to my flat, and then realized I had forgotten to buy batteries for my travel clock (they had run out literally that morning.) I went to two night stores in hopes of buying some, but one had only one pack of D batteries, and the other didn't sell batteries at all. Still, I managed to wake myself up in time for the taxi back to the airport, and at 10 a.m. Friday morning was on my way back to New York, arriving just in time to share in the celebration of the wedding of my friends Jonathan and Heather. More on that later.