Anyway. It's not that Belgium was ever the story of this blog, but I'm sure it used to be more prominent. It was a least a backdrop to the action, whereas now it hardly merits a mention. I think I've become so inured to its oddnesses that I barely think to mention them anymore. So! Let today be Belgium day! I dedicate Belgium Day to Al who I met yesterday who thinks Belgium is Satan's playground. Nothing he will read here is likely to change his mind, I fear.
This is a chocolate cauldron. No, I don't know why.
In particular, today is Kiss and Ride day. I am increasingly obsessed with the 'Kiss and Ride' column in Belgian Metro - the one where you can hopefully, optimistically, leave a message for the tweed clad gnome reading Lady Chatterley in Finnish on the 43 tram last Friday night. The Belgian version is an amazing mix of romantic, bathetic, ridiculous. The place names are always so terrible and the sentiment so intense. I couldn't even find my favourite, which wasn't a Lonely Heart at all, but more of a denunciation, and thundered something like "A Woman who drinks beer on the train with a man SHE KNOWS is married and even knows his wife's name! That's adultery in my eyes".
I am going to leave the French in (riddled with spelling mistakes, the lonely hearts aren't particularly literate) for the sheer poetry of it. Imagine thick Belgian accents when reading to yourself. I don't know if anyone else will find them as spellbinding and hilarious as I do. Probably not.