Thursday 15th December 2016

I have to meet up with Manu for breakfast, as he is driving me to the the office, then later to Leuven for a meeting. So there is no lying abed like some sluggard. No, up, up and attem!

I am down in the breakfast room, with just the old lady for company. And something struck me, that there are just maybe half a dozen guests in the hotel, and yet the same amount of food gets up out each morning. God knows how much is wasted; but there are selections of cheese, potted and cured meats, beans, bacon, sausages, grilled tomatoes, jams, spreads, cured and smoked fish, rolls, fruit, bread, cakes, yoghurts, cereals. THere is acres of food. And all for €70 a night with free parking.

Apparently.

Manu comes down, has has breakfast, then takes me down where is Mercedes estate is parked. At least Manu knows the rules of the road, being Belgian, but it seems he is as surprised as some of the actions by his fellow motorists. Not just me then?

I have two meetings, catch up with the guys and soon it is ten, and time to hit the road.

He takes me down a by road out of the town, criss crossing a wide canal, which at every turn is a photogenic gem, and I could have wandered up and down snapping away on this golden and misty morning. But he presses on, taking us to the motorway, quickly accelerating up to 120 and the trucks are soon left far behind.

He has set up a driving playlist for us, as the song, "politics of Dancing" has been in his head all week. That gets played, as does Pop Musik by M and Chicago by Sufjan Stevens. It is wonderful listening to the great music as we hammer along at great speed on such a wonderful winter's morning. Through woodland, farmland and marshes. Past small pretty villages and farms. It all looks really beautiful.

We reach the ring road around Brussels; traffic is heavy and gets only worse. We edge our way along and round the north of the city, until we can turn off and speed up again for the final spurt to Leuven.

It is bathed in warm light, if hazy, but it looks pretty as a picture, but we have work to do.

We find a space in the underground car park, then walk up to the building, take a deep breath and go in......

Three hours later we leave, a spring in our step, as we don't have to do this for another four weeks.

Beer?

Asks Jesper. We all agree, so walk down the main shopping street, round the cathedral to The Capital. A place we know very well. It is up for sale, but as a going business, we hope it stays open. There are about 20 beers on tap, we choose one each and retire to a table at the back to reflect on what we have done thus far. I have a glass of what is called Bush Christmas Ale; I find out it is 12%, strong enough to be a wine, really. It is strong overpowering stuff. THe second one I have an IPA, its crisp and citrus freshness felt like the coming of spring on my tongue. Lovely.

Manu leaves us, meaning it is just Jesper and I going to the burger joint where we order a meat lover's burger, which is pretty much the same as most other burgers I had that or any other week. Still good though. For dink, we switched to Coke.

We stride back to the station to get our rides home, or Jesper to the airport and me to Oostende, but it is the blue hour, and with the festive lights, the main square and the baroque town hall looks wonderful. I try to take shots, my head still spinning from strong beer, but I get usable shots. Down the main street to the centre, all lined with lime trees all covered in white fairy lights. With the bustle of people out shopping, it is a festive scene, but we have to get to the station soon.

I have ten minutes to queue and get a ticket, then walk to platform 2 to wait for the express train. German ICE trains hammer by, as does another high speed train. Double deck trains pull in, disgorge and collect new passengers. I take a few shots.

My train arrives on time, and as I have bought a first class ticket, I find a seat and slump into the seat to watch as Belgium rolls by outside the window. Or would have, had it been light, but for the most part I see my reflection looking back at me.

Into Brussels, stopping at Nord, Centraal and Midi stations; the train fills up, and friends meet each other and there is a quiet murmur of conversation.In the seats on the other side of the aisle, a German couple are reading newspaers and talking loudly. They get angry glances from other passengers, and the guy opposite me even does a loud shhhh! The Germans carry on.

Out of Brussels the train crawls along at a walking pace, there is an announcement to apologise for the 24 minute delay. To make it worse, local stopping trans are whizzing past us, whilst we are stuck at another red light. But we do get moving, through the Gent where most other passengers get off, then to Brugge and finally to Oostende. It is half seven, I am still full with beer and burger, so no thoughts about looking fordinner. Instead I was back through the empty streets past the gothic church and bright shops to the hotel.

I even pass the hotel bar by, go up to my room, get in the shower.

Once out and dry, I realise I am so tired, so I put the computer on the listen to some radio, climb into bed and close my eyes.