Waar is Het Toilet, Alstublieft?
on Blog From Beyond (Rwanda), 19/Feb/2010 22:34, 34 days ago
*Running to catch up...*Well the end of last week was all good. I've got a new friend! The girl (Harri) that Merrick sent me down the pub with is absolutely lovely and we got utterly sloshed whilst talking bollox about everything from development and capitalism to gender issues in fairytales lol - might not sound like everyone's cup of tea, but for me it was a totally spiffing night out. Plus she lives just up the road so we can do this as often as we like! Hurah!Thursday was uneventful except for a student in college deciding to undo a piece of woodwork he'd just glued together by smashing it repeatedly against the floor. Naturally.And Friday was perfection personified as my client texted to cancel before I'd even finished breakfast so I had the entire day to pack for Belgium! Win!On Saturday morning I was up and out of the house by half-ten, zooming down the motorway to London to collect Cathryn from Peckham. It was brilliant to see her again *wave* as it's weird now living so far apart but still in the same (if different) country.From there we pootled down toDover, which took less time than anticipated, although the closer we got the more snow drifts we encountered. One minute it was wet and drizzly, the next it was like stepping through the wardrobe intoNarnia- all white and wintry again.Because we got there in plenty of time we headed into town and grabbed hot chocolate, soup and jam roly poly in a little café calledChaplin's. It warmed our cockles and we braved the sub-zero temperatures once again to drive tothe ferry.I have to admit, I was a little nervous about this trip. More nervous about the ferry than driving on the opposite side of the road - but not comfortable about either.I think I have warped memories of a family holiday to Ireland once and a dark, tight-cornered ferry. Or maybe I completely dreamed that. I'm a nightmare with multi-story car parks and parallel parking and I thought it would involve something along those lines.Instead I was completely relaxed. Drove straight on and straight off. It was easy peasy, spacious and well lit. The only problem we had getting off at the other end was remembering where we'd parked :opNow that I know how easy it is to cross to Europe I'd definitely do it again. Between two of us petrol was nothing in comparison to airport taxes, plus you get to decide where you go, take a detour, stop for lunch, carry as much luggage as you like. Huge advantages to driving.Cathryn bought me a little see-through sticker for the windscreen which shows with big green arrows which way to go round the roundabout and turn at junctions. When you come back, you just turn the sticker over and you're set for the UK again :) Genius!The crossing took a couple of hours, which is one hour longer than I thought. But all was good and driving at night was a bit of a blessing - less traffic and really easy to tell which direction you're going in from the headlights and tail lights.One comic moment: we all drove off the ferry and made a mad dash along the roads to freedom. Then we hit a roundabout. There were two cars in front of me. The first one turns right, the second turns right. Even as I'm thinking 'this can't be right', I'm turning right.We find ourselves in a deserted lorry park. The first guy made a mistake. But by the time he realises this, 50 other cars have followed us in, all in such a rush that we have to nose our was back out again through the congestion :opThat'll teach us to drive like sheep! Just glad he didn't turn into the harbour.Driving on the other side of the road proved to be a piece of...lemon pie. I think it was the time in Rwanda. One year driving solidly in the UK, two years being driven around Rwanda = perfect equivalent of ambidextrous driving. No problem, even coming back the other way.Dad gave me a great tip too, he said to put a piece of masking tape (in our case a yellow postit) on the driver's side door to remind you where the curb should be. I didn't look at it but I guess in my peripheral vision it was enough to make sure I kept to the right side.Anyway, we arrived inTorhoutquite late - even later having gone up and down the wrong road a couple of times ;) - and it was totally weird to seeLies and Kassim. InBelgium. In jumpers!It was snowing there too. Very cold but cosy warm house. Huge hugs. Bottle ofLeffe.The next day they had to go see family so Cathryn and I lazed about then went to the store to buy food to cook, but came back with beer and chocolate instead.Then we hopped on a train toBruges, which is about 20 minutes up the track. It's an absolutely stunning city with architecture to die for. Looked up at the tower Brendan Gleeson threw himself off in the filmIn Bruges. Then went for a romantic Valentine's day meal atLa Taverne Brugeoisein the square, just the two of us :opYou get a three course meal for€18 so we got different things and shared: farmhouse pate and cured ham for starters, muscles and Flemish stew for mains and chocolate mousse for pudding. Delicious and a wonderful warm fire to sit by.After, we took a wander around the shops and market, sniffed hand-made soaps, fleetingly admired jewellery whilst trying to stop our fingers freezing off, watched the horse-drawn carriages going round and bought chocolate. Then we headed to a café for pancakes with cream. Nummy.It was absolutely bitterly cold though and although it looked like a fairytale town, we were glad to get back to the warmth of home and the beers we bought the day before, including raspberryHoegaarden, which was too sweet for my taste but we did learned an interesting fact.It's notHo-Garden.It'sHoo-Haarden.Can't wait to try that one out in the pub.Lies made home-made tomatoe soup with little meatballs in. It was awesome good and we settled down to watchPretty Womanon TV with the giant chocolate nut&cornflake biscuits we bought in Bruges.Monday we had another lazy morning then took a drive (yes, me driving! :) ) toOostendewith Lies&Kassim.It was bitterly cold again and not exactly the right weather for a strole along the prom, but it was nice to look at, especially the stained glass inthe Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, which is stunning. We also had a wander along the fish stalls: every kind of sea food you can imagine fresh off the boat. We devoured calamari, crab, breaded 'stuff' with island dressing...mmmmm.Then to the café of doom.Sadly, this is where the holiday took a turn for the worse.We ordered our first, and last, waffles of the holiday. Lies, sensibly, went for pancakes and Kassim, even more sensibly, abstained and lit a cigarette (you can still smoke indoors there! It was like stepping back into the 90s. I almost wanted to start again just for the novelty!).The waffles were not good. They were a little sour. But we didn't realise how not good (rotten egg wrong) until that night. And you know us Brits - we'll sit there and finish the entire plate rather than admit that the food is off and risk offending anybody.Oh were we ill!Thankfully Lies and Kassim survived (which rules out the fish which we originally suspected - not realising waffles could turn bad). But Cathryn and I ran relays to the toilet the entire night. It came out both ends like a multi-dimensional waterfall. If you'd put a poll through the side of us we could've been garden sprinklers.Eeeew.We spent the next two days recovering in a horizontal position in front of the telly. There we were surrounded by chocolate and beer, and we couldn't touch a morsel!I came off marginally better than Cathryn and managed to drive to the exceedingly nice doctor who gave us some magic make-feel-better white pills. But I have to say, I'm still taking it steady now.We managed to pucker up for the journey home and even got a giggle out of it by that point. And at least it kept us in the warm - oh, cruel irony.The trip home was just as straight-forward as the trip out. All went smoothly until I dropped Cathryn off in London. Then got lost in London.There's this one junction that utterly does my nut in. I get it wrong every single time and the problem is that if you go the wrong way you are going the wrong way parallel to the road you want but the entireLondon congestion charge zonesits between you, so you can't nip across to where you need to be.I held it together really well but it added over an hour to my journey just going round the back streets of London trying to find the M1 and I got every arsehole imaginable up my tail pipe. One blue van driver was being such a twat that every time he beeped his horn I deliberately slowed down. I would never dream of that under normal circumstances and, being the total neanderthal he obviously was, he wouldn't recognise a plan as cunning as that and think 'she's doing it to wind me up', he'd just think 'stupid female can't drive ugh'.But it gave me a modicum of satisfaction.When I finally did make the M1 (weeping with relief and anticipation for third gear) I discovered it was practically at a stand still the entire way home. Something to do with a lorry accident that morning and something to do with, round aboutMilton Keynes, it becoming the toboggan shoot out ofCool Runnings.One minute a little drizzly. The next - WHAM! Snowflakes the size of my head! I'd never seen them so big. Falling thick and fast.I made it home just around the time the roads became impassible. I turned the car round to park and encountered a neighbour pushing another guy's car out the drifts forming in the middle of the road. The grit wasn't even touching it.Merrick's mum isn't well and was taken into hospital. He was trying to get there but got stuck and had to turn around. Took him ages to get back.Was glad to get in to a nice fire and a big comfy bed. I'd been driving solidly since 9:30am (+ one hour time difference, - two hours on a ferry), I don't believe in services unless I need the loo, I tend to grab a sandwich and drink when I refuel.So this morning I slept like a log and spent the day lounging around the house in my nightie and doing some hard-core accounting forTabara. Was going to watch a movie with mum but I think she got sucked into the vortex ofPoirot(that well-known Belgian) orDarling Buds of Mayor something. So never happened, but she did cook an amazing roast chicken dinner with baked potatoes swimming in butter and cheese. Heavenly.Nice way to round-up my last day as a 28-year-old.Tomorrow I'll turn 29.Err, in about five minutes :)