Of Rain and Umbrellas

First of all, I wanted to apologize. I have been a very neglectful blogger lately. I guess working 40(+) hours a week in addition to being in the middle of the cold, gray, rainy Belgian winter takes the energy right out of me. Sometimes I think the endless clouds, rain and milder temperatures are worse than the bitter cold with the possibility of snow and/or sun, but what do I know?

I complain about the rain, but it does make the city shine and sparkle at night. The drops hit the street where a car's headlights are shining and it looks like glitter is falling rather than rain. But then, of course, a big drop falls on your head, or you step in a previously unnoticed puddle and the magic is gone. The rain sucks again.


The rain coupled with the constant (and powerful) wind just outside the escalator to the Porte de Namur metro have created an umbrella graveyard along the sidewalk and in the square. Mangled skeletons of umbrellas turned inside-out one too many times litter the area. The smart (if damp) people close their umbrellas before reaching the square risking their comfort to save their umbrellas. Selfless, really.

Since I don't have any pictures of the umbrellas to share for the moment, I will leave you with a picture I took late in the year in 2010. I think it's the appropriate color...

When the winter rains come pouring down on that new home of mine, Will I still be in your eyes and on your mind?

Bagels in Belgium, Fire, New Job and New Rug

So I suppose the first thing to report is the existence of a bagel place here in Brussels. One within walking distance. One that makes them fresh. Not only that, but the place itself is comfortable and homey. They play great music, encourage hanging out with a shelf full of books (most of them in French, some in Dutch), and offer a full menu of lovely bagels. In other words... I am very happy.


Miguel and I went last weekend and during a long chat I've decided to add a new segment to this blog. "Weird Brussels." Look out for it.

So last Sunday night we were settling in after going to see Burn After Reading and we heard sirens. Normally, this is no big deal, but they were louder than usual, so we went to the window. Outside 3 fire trucks and an ambulance were stopping just outside our building! We immediately ran downstairs to see what was going on. After being joined by other neighbors we asked a fireman who said there was smoke in the building next to ours (they're connected) and the floor above ours (we're on the 3rd). We stand and watch as the cherry picker (no idea what that would be called here) went up to the window. They had to use force to open the window, and when they did the smoke started coming out. Miguel said "We're not ready for a fire!" I looked at him, trying to suppress a laugh and said "No one is ready for a fire!" After standing around a while longer to make sure things were safe we chatted with neighbors until it was definitely safe. So that was the big news for that night!

The other news of the week (other than having a new president) is this: I started my job! Granted it's very part time (9 hours a week), but it's something, and it's something I enjoy! I am babysitting/working with a 5 yo American boy who has special needs, most likely autism. (Interestingly enough, this is the same American family we got our cats from, so I hang out with our cats' mother while there.) Anyway, I spend 3 hours a day, 3 days a week playing with Faisal and getting him to communicate with me. We play with play dough, read, play tracks (build train tracks), color (I drew an awesome killer whale for him and he scribbled over most of it), and watch the killer whale part of Happy Feet. So far he responds really well to me, imitates what I do and say and seems to have a great time. So I hope that will continue to go well.


Oh, and starting a couple nights ago there was a smell of gasoline in the apartment, coming mostly from downstairs. Awesome. So we called our maintenance guy, who couldn't find any problem, but opened the stairwell windows. So we decide to check that we're not getting an pigeons inside and sure enough, not only was there a big fat pigeon on the stairs, but there was also pigeon poop/pee over 2 stairs! And of course, WE had to clean it up. Stupid bird. As if the noise they make outside the bathroom isn't enough.

In other news, we FINALLY bought a rug! No more hard, cold, wood floor for us. It's as much to keep us warm as it is to make the living room look nice. It's a great rug, and it was VERY much on sale. I really wanted a Persian-style rug, and am quite pleased. The cats are obsessed with it, and therefore it had to be vacuumed today, not even 24 hours after the purchase had been made.



Speaking of the cats, Cleo had a little accident today. She hasn't learned that fire is painful yet, though she has gotten too close to the heater or a candle in the past, because some of her eyebrow-whiskers were curly/singed about a month ago. This time, she got the rest of her eyebrow whiskers, and also her paw. One of the little tea lights was flickering, and Cleo thought to bat at it/teach it a lesson, resulting in a slightly burned paw. She tried to play it cool like she had known what she was doing all along, but some of her fur on that paw was blackened. Poor kitty. Too bad it was also really funny.


And to end on a fun/cute note, here are a few of the cats being, well, cats. Enjoy! Oh, and please note, anyone can comment on this, even if they don't have blogs. So, Mom? Dad? Jake? Anyone?

6 Countries in 3 Days

So for those of you that like reading about my travels and exploits, I have decided to go the blog route rather than sending group emails. So remember to check back every couple of days to see what I am doing this side of the Atlantic!

So I started this latest trip on December 15th with my Aerlingus flight to Dublin, Ireland. I said a (slightly teary) goodbye to Dad after he dropped my off at the security line and began the great schlepp. I made it to the gate, and soon after I did, I was paged at the counter. The woman asked me if I had a return ticket to the States booked, which, of course, I didn't, seeing as I will now be living in Belgium. I explained that I would be getting married over here (legally) and showed her my paperwork. She accepted it, and explained that she was required to ask due to regulations. Fine, I explained myself, no problem. Soon after that, I boarded the flight and started chatting with my neighbors (2 seats away, a little boy of about 4 and his mother). Sometime during this conversation, a flight attendant comes over to me with a plastic cup of champagne, saying she heard I was getting married! Well, I thought, this is a great start to the journey! It was even better that she brought me another just before takeoff!

So, having started the journey well, I settled in with my book, my water, and my personal entertainment system. I watched Pinneapple Express, an episode of Fawlty Towers, one of Sex and the City, etc. The flight went by remarkably quickly, and I found myself thinking, maybe travel isn't so stressful! But I still had a while to go...

Upon arrival in Dublin, I breezed through security without even having to show my paperwork (much to my surprise), and settled in to wait for Miguel to arrive. He snuck up on me and gave me a big hug and we were off to the airport Starbucks! (The same Starbucks where my purse was stolen back in February.) That Starbucks was to become my home for the next 11 hours. I ate, I slept (short naps), I read, etc. 19 hours into my trip, it was time to head to the gate where flight number 2 would be leaving to go to Brussels!

Of course, that flight was delayed. We finally boarded, and made it there in an hour and a half. Then began the trials of strength, endurance and love as Miguel and I struggled with sleep deprivation, copious amounts of luggage and stairs. Just think, 2 people + ~200lbs. of luggage + 1 train + 1 taxi + 4 flights of stairs... all that =STRESS AND PAIN. Still, we managed, Miguel doing most of the schlepping. At this point it was 11pm local time, we still had to have the neighbor, Natalie, up to talk about cat-sitting and then find dinner. Sleep didn't happen until around 2am Brussels time.

10am, I am forced out of my glorious sleeping to get up, have breakfast and run errands. Groceries had to be bought for lunch, chocolates had to be bought and shipped, things needed to be delivered to Miguel's office, we had to pack for Tenerife, etc. etc. etc. Finally, we were finished and ready to leave! Of course, halfwat to the metro station, I realized I hadn't packed my camera, and had to run back to the appartment, up the 4 flights of stairs, search through the still unpacked luggage and find it, then run back. I eventually made it, gasping and sweaty, to the train station, where we made our train to Holland with no trouble. Holland? You ask. Keep reading...

So once in Nijmegen (the oldest city in Holland) we were picked up by Miguel's mom (Bernadette) and her husband (Nick) and were ferried back to Groesbeck where they live. We were given tea and food and were told we would be leaving for Dusseldorf (where our next flight was to leave at 6am) at about 12am. Mind you, Dusseldorf is about a 20 minute drive from Groesbeck, meaning another long stretch in an airport. It was no use arguing with Nick about the time we would be dropped off, we were stuck. So we leave, right on schedule.

We arrived at the airport grounds which were once used as an American military base during WWII, and finally to Airport Weeze. What a strange airport it was! A huge empty space, the few chairs that were there were already taken up by other passengers already camping out. The stairs going to the second level were blocked off, and there was loud music coming from the bar upstairs. After Nick and Berna left, we wandered for a bit, then decided to see if the lift was working, which it was, so we could check out the "forbidden" upstairs. There was no one up there really, save for the people having the party at the bar. We found some seats, and settled in for a long night. It's a good thing we didn't try to sleep, because every few minutes, the drunk party-goers would take over the PA system and make fake announcements, sing jingle bells, etc. It was a very bizarre experience. Finally, at around 4am we ventured downstairs to get checked in and get rid of some of our baggage. We then proceeded to the gate (a very short walk) and got some cards to pass the time. Shortly thereafter, we boarded the Ryanair flight amidst the stampede of other travellers, and prepared for a long uncomfortable flight.

4 1/2 hours. On a ryanair flight. After staying up all night. With non-reclining seats. And no leg room. Bad. Horrible. Miserable. I was exhausted, feeling claustrophobic, exhausted, feeling a little panic-y, and exhausted. Despite the horrible sleepiness, I could not sleep. It was far too uncomfortable. Several times I thought I would cry. Especially when the kid in the row behind us started throwing up. But no, somehow I remained conscious (if catatonic) for the entire flight.

And then of course, after landing in Tenerife and getting our bags, we had a 45 minute bus ride followed by a 15 minute ride in the car before arriving. It was cloudy and a little rainy. (Of course, the 1 place it's always sunny and warm is cloudy and rainy when I get there. Of course.) After that was over (I slept through most of the bus ride), we greeted Anke (Miguel's dad's wife), got some food, and I went to get a shower. Little did I know, the shower downstairs where Miguel and I were staying doesn't really get hot water. It was warm, I thought it would heat up, so I got in. No. Halfway through shampooing, it got colder. And colder. I turned off the water and asked Miguel. He said to try Anke's shower. Same problem. I then went to shower number 3, which worked well, though I remained chilled. After the shower fiasco, it was SERIOUSLY time for a nap.

4 hours later...

The rest of the night was spent watching Meet the Spartans (300 spoof) and eating pizza. Miguel's Dad, Anke and Andre (their son) were all so nice and fun to be around, despite my exhaustion. I couldn't understand too much when they lapsed into Spanish, it will help when I get over my jetlag.

So when I finally got to bed last night, I went right to sleep, of course, then, to wake up at 3am, wide awake. I read for several hours, and when sleep still wouldn't come, I resorted to tylenol PM which sufficiently knocked me out til 12.

So there you have it. 6 countries (USA, Ireland, Belgium, Holland, Germany and Spain) in 3 days. All on very little sleep. But I'm alive, being taken care of, and that's that. Sorry for the super-long post, I hope you find it entertaining... Please, feel free to email me (brody.letson@gmail.com). I have internet and I want to hear from people!

Happy Holidays everyone!!