Last night it got colder than we expected as the sun started to set, so we returned to the room to add a few more items of clothing (mainly for my benefit). While there, we caught some more of the Pope's visit to Poland on TV. It was all in German; very interesting. We also watched an interview with Princes Charles, William and Harry by Ant and Dec. As loyal Britains it is important we know about our monarch y. ( Ie, it was the only thing on in English.)
I threw on some more layers and we ventured out for our final dinner in Bruges. We went to the restaurant next door to the one we visited last night, called Vivaldi.
We were both delighted with the meal, although I still think 4 Euros 50 is ridiculous for a bottle of still water. Christian got a 6 oz pepper steak with fries and salad, which he loved. I decided on the baby lobster with linguini and pesto sauce. It was amazing, and worth the price we paid for it; after all, we're on holiday, and Weight Watchers is waiting for us when we get home.
This morning we awoke bright and early at 8am, so we could get down to breakfast before anyone else. We had adopted a table by the window we really liked, and wanted to ensure we got that same table for our last meal in Bruges. We arrived downstairs just as all the food was put out, and feasted on eggs, fruit, and the most amazingly fresh bread. After eating more than adequately, we returned up to our room for the few remaining hours we had left, and had a little more of a lie in till we had to check out. We watched BBC news and Christian worked on his pocket pc, then at 10:50 we finished packing up and made it downstairs for 11am, final checkout. I wrote a complimentary entry in their guestbook whilst chatting to some British tourists who had stopped in for a cup of tea, while Christian paid up. The bill was 2 euros 40 in total (for the tea I had ordered yesterday) and that lleft us with 40 euro cents for the remainder of our trip.
We left our bags with Stephanie, the sweet receptionist, while we went to take a final stroll around the city. We went back to the lake of Love and spent about 45 minutes feeding the ducks with another breadroll I had liberated from breakfast.
We walked around town just to catch a few last glimpses of it. We went back to the Market square and were walking through a passageway between roads when we were accosted by a man in a Belgian Tudor costume. Amused, I allowed this fellow to kiss my hand, knowing I had been feeding ducks with it not an hour before and hadn't had a chance to wash them yet. He "encouraged" us into his seedy little storefront all the while talking...talking...asking us about ourselves, where we were from, classic method of obtaining trust and putting a person off guard. Ordinarily, neither of us give the time of day to such a person, but we were both curious about where he was going with this. The shop was threadbare (to say the least) with partially painted walls and little else. He had us stand against the wall and get close together, at which time he pointed an ancient camera at us (by this I do not mean a charming 19th century dealy) and took a photo of us that appeared as a grainy black and white picture on the 25 year old 10 inch screen he had. He pressed a button and a heartshape encircled the picture which made us both roll our eyes with the sheer tackyness of it. But it got worse! He then proceeded to type "Forever in Love" on the aged keyboard with the grimey, yellowed plastic cover. The words appeared on the photo under Christian (not even centered) within a white box, in that 1984 font we all remember. Because "Forever" was longer than the "in Love" beneath it, the box wasn’t even, but a few spaces longer on the first line. UG! He then typed our names on it. Olde Tyme Photo this was NOT.
All of a sudden, he pressed another key and a sound I haven't heard in over a decade eminated from a device I haven't seen in just as long by the door. I immediately asked him what that was, since we hadn't authorized him to print anything. Soon, the old dot matrix printer that feeds through via holes down the side of the paper (you all know the kind) started pushing his product through. It had BRUGGE written in brown at the top, with a map of the city below it. This was preprinted. On the second sheet (which is of course attached) printed our grainy, security camera, heart-shaped photo with the "Forever in Love" in its uneven white box off center. All the while he is talking...talking...asking us when we were born, and telling us about ourselves (Capricorns are good students, they know what they want, yada yada. Leo's are firey, loyal, like to be in command, whatever). He then came to the end of his rather disconcerting spiel and said the part we were waiting for! He ripped the paper along the perforation, and put it up on an easel nearby and said "This is a very good souvinere, one you will treasure, not expensive, only seven euros..." "WHAAT??" I interupted. "You want 7 euros???? For THAT?" I then laughed and opened the door and walked out, still laughing, with a bemused Christian close behind me. The thing is, if this man was taking part in a reality TV show entitled "How tacky can you get?" he would have won first prize. The old technology, the grainy photo, the heart shape (which we both detest) the cheesy line and the stupid price tag made it for a very memorable experience. You can’t buy entertainment like that; luckily, we got it for free. The best part was, the same guy had tried the same thing 6 years ago on Christian and his mother, however, he wanted 10 euros then.
By now it was time to go. We started back towards our hotel. We stopped at the Hotel Acadamie in town, which has free WiFi. Christian synced up while I went in for the 5th time this trip to use the bathroom (I swear they were sure I actually stayed there). Both of us were absolutely resolute that we would not pay anything to use the bathroom whilst on this trip. We then returned to the hotel, got our bags and wished Stephanie a final Adieu as we headed to the station. We only had about 20 minutes to wait before the train to Brussels showed up, and this time we got to sit together. To our dismay, Christian discovered that the bathroom was forever locked, and upon our arrival into Brussels Midi station to await the Eurostar in 3 hours time, we discovered that all available bathrooms are 30 Euro cents to use. Never mind that we only have 40 Euro cents between us and we both have to go, its the principle of the thing.
Now here we sit, in the food court so I can write this up in detail. Luckily, we have several coffee flavo(u)red yogurts on us that we bought in Bruges, so we neednt buy anything. I obtained two spoons from Haagen-Dazs and we're eating like kings for nothing at all. Security has come by several times but we just look too innocent to be loitering, even when they kicked out the drunk guy sitting directly to my left.
It is now 4:10pm Belgium time. The Eurostar departs at 5:56 and we should be back in London a little before 8. There is no WiFi here (its not free, anyway) so we'll have to wait till we get home to add this to the blog.
What we've learned on our trip:1) Free toilets are a luxury we enjoy in both the states and in England. It does not exist all over the world however. Keep spare change or better yet, learn how to walk into a hotel saying "No honey, we don’t have to return to the room, Ill just go down here"2) Free water is a blessing, not a right in this country.3) Tips are not included, no matter what it says on the internet.4) Greasy con artists exist everywhere, even in a setting of charm with little crime. Mental note: Capricorns don't take kindly to scheisters and Leo's have long memories.5) Swans are mean.6) Everything costs money. There is no free breadbasket here.7) Plastic spoons are the best international currency.8) You can enjoy a free seat in the food court as long as you appear wealthy enough to buy food if you feel like it.9) Christians ability to guess WiFi passwords ends at the border of the English speaking world.10) Turning up early for a train is sensible, but make sure to use the bathroom before you get here, because an interesting seated dance will undoubtedly begin in the foodcourt. See #1.
5:14pm holds a special place in my heart now, for that is the time we were able to once again fulfill our god given right to go to the bathroom without having to pay a duty to an oppressive foreign regime. At 4:30pm we entered the Eurostar terminal, but they would not let us through until 5pm. As the time ticked by I wouldn't even sit down, just watched the adverts on the wall rotate through. At 4:50 we queued up, and at 5:03 they allowed us through. We passed through Belgian security, then baggage screening, then approached British passport control, where of course I had to fill out a landing card although we weren't flying anywhere. We parked our stuff and Christian left me with it while he went to investigate the facilities. Returning with a smile, I headed off with glee. I entered the door with the skirted figure, the universal symbol for "Women" and entered a bathroom with 7 stalls in it. All had red dots (meaning they were locked) except the one at the end whic!h was wide open. I walked over to it and straight into the back of the man conducting his business standing up, as they do. I had a moment of panic while I thought perhaps it was I who had erred, but it lasted only a split second before a young girl exited the stall directly beside his. Once finished, he realized his mistake and hauled tail into the adjacent facility.
When I returned back to where Christian was seated with our stuff, I realized I was at 55% battery on my IPAQ, and feared it would not be enough for the three hour trip. I saw an outlet about 10 feet from where we were sitting, so headed towards it with a charger cable and two bags, for cover. I plugged in my pocket pc, covered it and the wires with the bags, and proceeded to sit against the wall crosslegged, leaving Christian on the seats with our bags. I had nothing to do whilst waiting for it to charge, but that didn't matter, because Christian was entertaining enough. He had our large burgundy umbrella with him, and every time I looked at him he was doing something else with it; playing it like a flute, or a cello,or a sax, pretending it was a telescope, or a shotgun, gesticulating as if it was the pull for a slot machine. Everyone who walked past, who must have assumed I was a student or a busker, got even more confused when I would laugh outloud at what to them wa!s nothing at all. Upon returning to London Waterloo, we got on a fast train back to Orpington. No car planned this time, we figured we would catch a black cab from Orpington station to Biggin Hill, a journey of no more than 7 miles. We jumped in the waiting cab, and got pretty engrossed in our conversation until Christian said "Wait, why is the fare at £9 already?" Upon inquiring with the driver, we were shocked and dismayed to learn that the price is twice as high due to the bank holiday weekend. By the time we got to Biggin Hill, Christian had to ask the driver to stop on the high street. The fare at this point was £22.80, and we had to seek out all the change we had just to make the fare; as we hadn't accounted for such a high priced trip home. Here we were, having spent the last of our Sterling, and we still had to walk about a quarter mile home, with all our bags. We can walk down a hill that takes about 10 minutes, but if we had stayed in the car, it would have easily been another £4 since he would have had to have travelled further around the valley to get to our house. Scandalous! Oh well, these things happen. We are now at home, ready for a new day tomorrow, back at the office.
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