This and That

It is strange to watch Flemish T.V. with subtitles ... and still not understand a word!

In Paris, when crossing the Sienne River on certain bridges, we could look down to the strip of land below to witness a peculiarity of their summer.  Tonnes of sand and a few palm trees in pots are trucked in, to create artificial beaches.  Sun loungers can be hired and we saw a large container of colourful plastic buckets and spades.  The palm trees we saw were very poor specimens.  Long trucks and a few short fronds.  But even on a cool evening many family groups were there enjoying a picnic.

In public toilets in Belgium, the flush is activated by a foot pedal on floor level to one side of "the throne" ... a more hygienic solution?

The impressive themed toilets in the Louvre, I later found, were also in the second large department store in Paris.  So "Point W.C." may be a company that operates many such facilities.  This time business was not so brisk, so I peeped in several other cubicles.  Each has one side wall with a different image and that forms the colour theme for products for the bathroom, displayed behind glass at the back of the cubicle, which can be purchased out at the counter.

In certain areas about town, the air of Brugge has a certain unpleasant pungency to it.  (Think an open drain or blocked toilet.). We left the hotel about 8 am yesterday and caught a whiff.  Woodsie remarked, "The air has quite a taste to it!"

The main square in Brugge has a statue of two men.  In about the 1300s, local Flemish were tiring of French tyranny and these two led a revolution against French rule.  They challenged all they encountered to say a certain Flemish phrase, and one thousand Frenchman were killed in one night alone.  They wrestled control from the French for some time but eventually lost it again.

One of the two revolution leaders lived in the building that is now our hotel.  Apparently a book has been written about the building and one man at Reception told us the basics.  It was once a butchers.  The vast cellars date from the 1300s.  From the 1400s right up to 1950 it was a brewery.  Beer is a very big deal here in Belguim.  From 1950 to 1986 it was a printers, with living space at the front a d the business behind.  Then that same family converted the building to a hotel.

Museums abound where we have been.  But Brugges has two that are unusual.  A Museum for Chocolate and another for the Potato Chip.  Might check them out today.

Success!

Our holiday is back on track!

We were up early and had breakfast downstairs in a room overlooking the canal.  We were the only ones there at seven in the morning.  We walked to the Brugge Train Station and caught the 8:25 to Brussells, then took a taxi to the Australian Embassy.  Our driver had fled Rwanda 12 years ago.

The first set of glass doors glide open, then we had to press an intercom and state our business.  The Embassy is located on the 5th floor.  A large man directed us to leave all but identification and documents in one of three lockers there.  Inside, we passed through a metal detector.  We waited for a few minutes before being called by a SMILING Belgian woman to the glass counter.  She issued us a form each to fill in, then collected the fee, photos, looked at drivers' licences and said we could wait or come back.  The Consul who was in a meeting had to approve our applications.

We wandered around the area, through several parks and past various other Embassy and EEC buildings, had a coffee, then returned.

Yes, they were ready and handed over immediately.  We were again dealt with a friendly professional attitude.

Rob wasn't overly keen at my photo opportunity outside in front of the brass Embassy plaque, but he indulged me.  We tried to phone a taxi, but despite hitting "3" for the English option, the operator and I did not communicate sufficiently to do so.  We walked to try and if a taxi rank, but came stairs leading down to a Metro station instead.  Rob suggested we give it a go.

It proved extremely easy to purchase 2 one hour tickets for the short ride back to the main MIDI station.  The destinations board read "1:07" and the train to Brugge was "1:05" ... seems we had missed it by two minutes.  Never mind. They run every half hour.  But as it was still displayed, I suggested we check the platform anyway.

Eureka!  Tourists with suitcases were still crowding around, trying to board.  So we scrambled in too!!!

Brugge's Funniest Man

Did I stumble across the funniest man in Brugge last night?

We walked around looking for somewhere to have dinner. Rob wanted lasagne, so one place with a golfing theme, "The Green" offered it at a reasonable price.  In we went.  My beer at lunch time in Brugge arrived in a tall stemmed glass.  Tonight it was in a round, squat stemmed glass.  I said to My Host, "May I ask a question?"

"Yes.  You just did," AND HE MOVED AWAY.  He did confirm the tradition that each beer has its own glass.

His wife took our food order.  I tried the local grey shrimp in an omelette.  (Hello to Sue who has insisted I must eat 'local'.). I said her husband was a funny man, and she sighed he had been this way for 27 years.  Her son said, "Mum, you must have been very, very drunk or on drugs!"

He cleared the plates and asked how we liked it.  "It was delicious, but you didn't  cook it, did you"

No, but he insisted he "taught the misses how to cook".

I went inside to sit at one of many stools at the long bar.

"I've only seen bars like this on American movies," I said.

He dead panned, "Well, they come over here for inspiration."

I asked' "Is there anything you don't have an answer for?"

He thought a second.  "Probably not!"

I had left Rob at the undercover table as I wanted to experience the atmosphere of the bar (and drink a Baileys).  Hello Gus.

"You want more atmosphere?" my host enquired, as he dramatically flicked a switch to lower the lighting.  "More atmosphere!". All this without a flicker of a smile.

When Rob came inside, he took out the camera to snap his wife, The Bar Fly.  Our host strenuously objected.  "That will cost €5."

I asked if a photo with him was €10.

"€100 ... (holding out his hand) ... and can I have cash upfront!

He then moved away before any photo could be taken.

When it came time to pay, the bill was a reasonable €28:50.

"Make it €35?" Woodsie suggested.

"It can be €40' or €45," he said.  "Even €60 is possible."

Woodsie laughed and said the €35 would be just fine!!!

Shopping Around ... Continued, version 2

Dodgy wi fi yesterday.  Half my post never saved.

To continue our story of woe:

On entering the police station at 78 rue Bonaparte, we were confronted by several sullen faces.  No,  not felons, the uniformed police.  Presentation of our note written in French by the hotel manager changed nothing.  Did we receive an iota of sympathy for our plight?  No.  Did the merest whisper of concern escape any of those pursed lips?  No.  We were told to wait "for a few minutes".

MUCH later someone took our details and printed out a paper.  We had to wait further.

Many police passed by us, with not one of them making eye contact.

FINALLY a female police officer emerged from a side office with a man, had him sign multiple copies of what I assume was his statement, and he left.  Her voice then became hostile as I guess she was told about us.  She disappeared for about 10 minutes then beckoned us into the side office.  It was barely big enough for the three chairs and desk.

I noticed her arm patch was different from her colleagues who had so studiously ignored us.  Maybe it said she had done better at school in English?  She took Rob's statement, making her famous statement, "Paris has many, many pickpockets.". He had to sign four copies, was given one, and we were free to go.  90 minutes it took all up.  It wasn't an overwhelming experience, just cold and unfriendly.

At just before midnight, our room phone rang.  Struggling  out to answer it, I found it was some idiot in another room who had misdialled Reception to request a 5:30 wake up call.

Robert sighed when I told him, "That's about right to finish our day!"

Brussels to Bruge to Brussels

Intermittent wi fi meant I thought I had posted last night but it stuck on draft.  Apologies to anyone who was worried.  Anyone?  Hellloooo out there.  (Sorry Lyn.)

Off to Brussells again this morning after a wonderful afternoon in Bruges, Belguim, go try and obtain new passports at the Austraian Embassy.  Hope they are friendlier officials than those we encountered at French Police station.

Shopping Around ... continued

 We have been lulled into an easy sense of security over here.  It is possible to say "Everyone here speaks English" because in the main, the locals we tourists dead with, do speak enough English, often to a really fluent standard.  Don't get me wrong!  I am extremely grateful and impressed by their years of study, as it makes my time away so much smoother.


Taxi drivers, hotel receptionists, cafe and restaurant staff, train officials, ticket sellers, many shop assistants ... all speak English.  So where do those who did not learn English go?  We found out last night.  They joined the French police force!!


Arriving back at our hotel yesterday late afternoon, Rob thought he had misplaced the travel wallet containing both our passports, the 28 Degrees credit card we have just for this trip, plus some cash.  A quick look through the apartment did not locate it, which is unusual, as he has been meticulous in keeping track of all our documents.  A more frantic search again failed to find it.  Rob had carried it with him, in a leg pocket of his pants.  The only conclusion to draw is some mongrel pick pocket now has the wallet.


Poor Woodsie felt physically sick, as he has been so ultra careful all along.  But as a policewoman later told us, "Paris has many, many pick pockets."

Shopping Around

Woodsie flatly refused to consider another museum or art gallery today.  He is totally cultured out.  So that leaves shopping.

He navigated us via several train lines to the boulevard  Haussman, where first we ventured into Galeries Lafayette, which has a spectacular giant glass dome and is three separate buildings.  Further along the boulevard is Au Printemps, which is three stores in one.  De la Mode for fashion; de la Beaute et Maison has the worlds largest beauty department and homewares; the third devoted to menswear.

Think Myer and David Jones after their renovations, then triple the glamour!  Everything was so beautifully displayed.  Each fashion label had their own changing room area.  Makeup artists wore black "tool kits" around their hips, with their brushes at the ready.  (No one offered to "Cinderalla" me.)

One floor we visited had men's watches.  Brands had their own display areas, so there was a whole section, with several counters, just for, example, Rolex.  I looked at some of the prices and gulped.

Designer handbags were another consumer item allocated their own display areas. Some even had thick velvet ropes across the front and a security person allowing the few privileged customers into the mini-store.  One handbag caught me eye.  Rob commented he thought the leather strap across the front "over did it".  For this reasons alone I did not buy the €1000+ item.  

Two things worth mentioning about these Citadels to Consumerism.  Everything was beautifully displayed.  The clothes I saw were all interesting, stylish, wonderful.  At home sometimes most of 
what I see is hideous.  As Jenna once said, 'Clown pants and tent dresses.".   Of course the majority of European women I have seen have retained really wonderfully slim figures.    Even a lot of men, 
especially younger ones, wear their clothes with real flair.  



Next we headed underground again, to use the Metro to the Franklin D. Roosevelt stop, to emerge to stroll along the Champs-Élysées.  We two decided that every great boulevard must have trees, as this one does.  On a Saturday afternoon, this area was a-buzz with shoppers, tourists and those filling in 
time.

From there we walked back to see one of the great squares in all of Paris.  Place De La Concorde is enormous, with two fountains flanking the pink granite obelisk from Luxor.  We walked through the gates of the Jardin des Tuileries.  We past several very large round ponds, with water sprouting in the centre.  Again those metal outdoor chairs we saw yesterday were in abundance.  People encircled each pond, reading, sunbathing, snoozing or just relaxing with others.  Strangely, despite the hot day, no-one had their feet IN the water.

The gardens had rows of trees and we noticed the drop in temperature as we moved from the sun into the shade.  Just near the Louvre, we were enticed to purchase a cone each from an icecream cart.  I bought a few postcards on the way home, from the many street traders who operate from the green stands beside the river.

And shortly after, our day took a complete turn for the worse!  In fact it was probably a U-turn!!!!

To be continued ..