The B I G Nerd
Having completed my first week of school, I figure its time for an update about it. First, let me say that I LOVE SCHOOL. I'm taking three classes, plus seminars and other various activities, and its all great. I come home after class in the best mood - excited about being in Brussels and learning all this new stuff. So, what stuff exactly? The classes are: State, Market & Society, International Relations Theory, and History of International Conflict. Dr. Wiener teaches the theory class and he makes every statement seem profound and thoughtful. He has the clearest pronounciation and best speaking ability of anyone I've ever met. He's probably 6'4" and rides a Harley. The history class is taught by Dr. Palo, a 60 year old Italian guy born and bred in NYC. You know when you come across people who are doing exactly what they are meant to be doing? He definitely is. Passionate, super-knowledgeable and entertaining as heck. I completely forgot to take notes during class (along with everybody else), I was just too captivated by what he was saying. In the 50 minutes of his class, I learned at least five things about WWII that I was never taught in the U.S. school system. I don't mean that as a criticism of America, its just really interesting to learn things from a different perspective. The third class, State, Market & Society, is the toughest. I have never studied Economics, so this theoretical approach is difficult for me. I decided to take it because I think I should know something about classical political economy, as it is an integral part of the study of international relations, and all of Western society really. But it is going to take major effort to get through. Lots of Karl Marx to read...
Speaking of reading, there are hundreds of pages of reading each week for each class, plus preparing for seminar discussions and researching and writing essays. I love it all. I wake up every morning ready to read more, absorb more. I find myself thinking about theories or paper topics all the time. And its only the beginning of the second week!
~K
Tuesday, September 30
Sunday, September 28
Brief update...
Confirmation of the purpose of "The Mysterious H". It does indeed signify the presence of a fire hydrant and it is NOT an underground bunker. The hydrants are underneath the sidewalks and there are no "red curbs" here. Pretty much anywhere is fair game for parking. So that solves that one! Case closed.
--RP--
Confirmation of the purpose of "The Mysterious H". It does indeed signify the presence of a fire hydrant and it is NOT an underground bunker. The hydrants are underneath the sidewalks and there are no "red curbs" here. Pretty much anywhere is fair game for parking. So that solves that one! Case closed.
--RP--
Tuesday, September 23
Cross-Country Cheeses
I thought I was done knocking on doors of breweries last week, but over the weekend I did a bit more research and found three more to go to. They had seemed too far away at first, but I discovered that the train ride wouldn't be too bad after all. This realization was a welcome one after the lukewarm reception I got at the job agencies yesterday. Though my initial list of breweries was rather long, experience and logic made my list much shorter. Some breweries had closed and others were just not convenient to get to by train, bus, or foot.
Anyway, I headed east from Brussels today, to three towns in relative proximity to each other: Oudenaarde, Eine (a suburb of Oudenaarde), and Zottegem. A nice trip and exposure to some more "darling little towns" which a person sure wouldn't mind living in. I found all the breweries quite easily.
BUT, Brouwerij Clarysse seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be permanently or temporarily closed. There was no open front entrance, the "C" on the brewery's sign was about to fall off the building, and the equipment inside seemed to have been sitting dormant for quite some time. A large bay-door was open in the back. I ventured inside, but found no one. There was a line of concrete dividers pushed up against the large fermentors and machinery, dividing the warehouse. Against these barriers, a couple of postal trucks were parked. I'd say the owners basically went out of business and the landlord decided to lease some space to the post office. Either way, they certainly weren't hiring.
HOWEVER, if anyone out there is interested in a winning investment, my feeling is that whoever owns the building and the equipment inside would be willing to sell rather cheaply. I'd say with a couple hundred thousand euros, I could get that place cranking. Churn out some good beers. Whaddya say? Interested? Call me! The time is now! Strike while the iron is hot!
...Back to our regularly scheduled program. The second brewery, Brouwerij Cnudde, seemed more promising. The gate was open and there were kegs and crated bottles in the courtyard. However, nobody was there! I don't know if it was the goat-auction around the corner or the raging party in the adjacent pub this morning, but I couldn't find a soul in the brewery. Not even my lurking presence in their courtyard summoned anyone forth. So, I left a CV on a table inside an open door and went to see about Belgian goat ownership.
In the town center, there was a stantioned-off circle were men in blue over-coats were parading around young goats on a leash. People would occasionally make the winning bid and then left with a goat on a leash. There was also an area where some older goats were being sold (silent auction maybe?). Who knows? Every goat auction is different, it's hard to keep track. Anyway, I bought some artisanal goat cheese from a guy selling from a table set-up at the back of his car. He had some interesting amalgamations: Greek spice, Italian spice, Garlic, Nettle, Mustard seed, and Plain. I bought a piece of the Greek, the Nettle, and some plain for 4.50 euros. This trip would not be wasted. And, by the way, where's a camera when you need one?
The third town was a bit bigger. No goat auctions, but there was a huge street market today instead which I wandered around in for a bit. Oh, the brewery... well, I found it, but the only employee I could see was in the middle of giving a tour or entertaining a group of Dutch-speaking tourists. Having used up all of my nerve to approach each brewery in the first place, I wasn't about to blunder into a group tour and embarrass myself with my pitifully small amount of Dutch. So, I dropped a CV in the mail slot and ducked out of there.
Since I had some time to kill before my train back to Brussels, I wandered around the street market. These are very typical in Belgium and it seems like every town has one at least one day a week. A section of intersecting streets in the town center is closed to car traffic from early morning to about 2 or 3. Lots of vendors selling everything from clothing and sundries to fresh meat, produce and cheese. Cheese!? That reminds me, where's my goat cheese!? Jeesis, I lost my cheeses! Left them on the train! Bummer! I was really looking forward to trying that aged Nettle goat cheese. Seemed like a once in a lifetime thing. Oops.
And then it began to rain.
So, now I'm back in our Brussels apartment, cheeseless and jobless. With three more breweries in the bag, the brewery-employment-search part of moving here is pretty much done. Visited 16 breweries in all, including the few that were duds or closed. No one hired me, but the seeds have been planted. I will "water them" from time to time, perhaps they will grow into something. For now, I'll just have to find a "normal" job which doesn't appear to be easy either.
As for the learning and on-the-job expertise I had hoped to gain from working in a brewery, I will just have to go to school instead. There is a three-week course starting in March at the school in Leuven which I am intending to enroll in. But since we don't rightly know where we'll be by next fall, that's the only schooling I can plan for at the moment. There are a few other options, though: Siebel in Chicago and/or Germany, UC Davis in California, Heriot-Watt in Scotland, IGB in England, and a number of "distance learning" programs. I'm leaning towards an education "a la carte" as opposed to going for a degree because I'd rather get going with my own brewery sooner than later.
What's that noise I hear? Sounds like a grind-stone. That's my cue. Better put my nose where it belongs...
--RP--
I thought I was done knocking on doors of breweries last week, but over the weekend I did a bit more research and found three more to go to. They had seemed too far away at first, but I discovered that the train ride wouldn't be too bad after all. This realization was a welcome one after the lukewarm reception I got at the job agencies yesterday. Though my initial list of breweries was rather long, experience and logic made my list much shorter. Some breweries had closed and others were just not convenient to get to by train, bus, or foot.
Anyway, I headed east from Brussels today, to three towns in relative proximity to each other: Oudenaarde, Eine (a suburb of Oudenaarde), and Zottegem. A nice trip and exposure to some more "darling little towns" which a person sure wouldn't mind living in. I found all the breweries quite easily.
BUT, Brouwerij Clarysse seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be permanently or temporarily closed. There was no open front entrance, the "C" on the brewery's sign was about to fall off the building, and the equipment inside seemed to have been sitting dormant for quite some time. A large bay-door was open in the back. I ventured inside, but found no one. There was a line of concrete dividers pushed up against the large fermentors and machinery, dividing the warehouse. Against these barriers, a couple of postal trucks were parked. I'd say the owners basically went out of business and the landlord decided to lease some space to the post office. Either way, they certainly weren't hiring.
HOWEVER, if anyone out there is interested in a winning investment, my feeling is that whoever owns the building and the equipment inside would be willing to sell rather cheaply. I'd say with a couple hundred thousand euros, I could get that place cranking. Churn out some good beers. Whaddya say? Interested? Call me! The time is now! Strike while the iron is hot!
...Back to our regularly scheduled program. The second brewery, Brouwerij Cnudde, seemed more promising. The gate was open and there were kegs and crated bottles in the courtyard. However, nobody was there! I don't know if it was the goat-auction around the corner or the raging party in the adjacent pub this morning, but I couldn't find a soul in the brewery. Not even my lurking presence in their courtyard summoned anyone forth. So, I left a CV on a table inside an open door and went to see about Belgian goat ownership.
In the town center, there was a stantioned-off circle were men in blue over-coats were parading around young goats on a leash. People would occasionally make the winning bid and then left with a goat on a leash. There was also an area where some older goats were being sold (silent auction maybe?). Who knows? Every goat auction is different, it's hard to keep track. Anyway, I bought some artisanal goat cheese from a guy selling from a table set-up at the back of his car. He had some interesting amalgamations: Greek spice, Italian spice, Garlic, Nettle, Mustard seed, and Plain. I bought a piece of the Greek, the Nettle, and some plain for 4.50 euros. This trip would not be wasted. And, by the way, where's a camera when you need one?
The third town was a bit bigger. No goat auctions, but there was a huge street market today instead which I wandered around in for a bit. Oh, the brewery... well, I found it, but the only employee I could see was in the middle of giving a tour or entertaining a group of Dutch-speaking tourists. Having used up all of my nerve to approach each brewery in the first place, I wasn't about to blunder into a group tour and embarrass myself with my pitifully small amount of Dutch. So, I dropped a CV in the mail slot and ducked out of there.
Since I had some time to kill before my train back to Brussels, I wandered around the street market. These are very typical in Belgium and it seems like every town has one at least one day a week. A section of intersecting streets in the town center is closed to car traffic from early morning to about 2 or 3. Lots of vendors selling everything from clothing and sundries to fresh meat, produce and cheese. Cheese!? That reminds me, where's my goat cheese!? Jeesis, I lost my cheeses! Left them on the train! Bummer! I was really looking forward to trying that aged Nettle goat cheese. Seemed like a once in a lifetime thing. Oops.
And then it began to rain.
So, now I'm back in our Brussels apartment, cheeseless and jobless. With three more breweries in the bag, the brewery-employment-search part of moving here is pretty much done. Visited 16 breweries in all, including the few that were duds or closed. No one hired me, but the seeds have been planted. I will "water them" from time to time, perhaps they will grow into something. For now, I'll just have to find a "normal" job which doesn't appear to be easy either.
As for the learning and on-the-job expertise I had hoped to gain from working in a brewery, I will just have to go to school instead. There is a three-week course starting in March at the school in Leuven which I am intending to enroll in. But since we don't rightly know where we'll be by next fall, that's the only schooling I can plan for at the moment. There are a few other options, though: Siebel in Chicago and/or Germany, UC Davis in California, Heriot-Watt in Scotland, IGB in England, and a number of "distance learning" programs. I'm leaning towards an education "a la carte" as opposed to going for a degree because I'd rather get going with my own brewery sooner than later.
What's that noise I hear? Sounds like a grind-stone. That's my cue. Better put my nose where it belongs...
--RP--
Monday, September 22
We haven't posted for several days because its been a bit of an up-and-down time. Rich spent Thursday and Friday last week looking for brewery work, with no luck. So that's a bit depressing. I've been riddled with doubts about my M.A. program and wondering what exactly I am going to do when I've finished it. We've gotten over the big hurdle, which was actually getting ourselves here, and now we have a whole 'nother set of fences to jump. I am slowly coming to terms with school and formulating some ideas for after, which I'll save for another post. Rich went to two employment agencies today, one of which was looking specifically for people who can speak Swedish or Danish and they gave him a name and email address to contact. The other was no help at all. Tomorrow is another day of brewery searching for him and studying for me. Aside from coming to terms with our continuing challenges, we have managed to have some fun (in addition to eating, eating, eating!).
Yesterday (Rich's birthday) we took the train to Geel, a town about an hour northeast of Brussels. I love travelling by train because it feels like an adventure, no matter where we're going. During the trip we saw countless people engaged in peaceful sunny Sunday activities, lots of families riding their bicycles and walking dogs. Geel turned out to be a small, cute, quiet Flemish country town with quaint houses and cobblestone streets. The main purpose of our visit was a beer-tasting event put on by the Onder 't Schuim (Under the Foam) club. Rich read about it in a magazine, "All About Beer," and decided it would be worth the trip. It really was - and I don't even like beer! We arrived at 2pm just as the event began. Rich immediately began sorting through all the choices and picked out several on the list that he wanted to try. I agreed to drink one as well, provided that it didn't taste like beer. He found one for me - a Kriek Extra - that tastes like an alcoholic cherry punch. Perfect! At least half of the 'waiters' and 'waitresses' were children (ages 10-15), apparently drafted by the club to help out during this special event and they performed their duties very seriously. In addition to the beer, we ordered an assortment of Belgian cheeses, smoked fish and fresh bread. We were very relaxed and happy when we headed back to the train station. We finished the day back at home, eating a chocolate bombe (a chocolate mousse cake-like dessert that looks like a giant truffle) for Rich's birthday cake.
Now - its time to work out!!
~K
Yesterday (Rich's birthday) we took the train to Geel, a town about an hour northeast of Brussels. I love travelling by train because it feels like an adventure, no matter where we're going. During the trip we saw countless people engaged in peaceful sunny Sunday activities, lots of families riding their bicycles and walking dogs. Geel turned out to be a small, cute, quiet Flemish country town with quaint houses and cobblestone streets. The main purpose of our visit was a beer-tasting event put on by the Onder 't Schuim (Under the Foam) club. Rich read about it in a magazine, "All About Beer," and decided it would be worth the trip. It really was - and I don't even like beer! We arrived at 2pm just as the event began. Rich immediately began sorting through all the choices and picked out several on the list that he wanted to try. I agreed to drink one as well, provided that it didn't taste like beer. He found one for me - a Kriek Extra - that tastes like an alcoholic cherry punch. Perfect! At least half of the 'waiters' and 'waitresses' were children (ages 10-15), apparently drafted by the club to help out during this special event and they performed their duties very seriously. In addition to the beer, we ordered an assortment of Belgian cheeses, smoked fish and fresh bread. We were very relaxed and happy when we headed back to the train station. We finished the day back at home, eating a chocolate bombe (a chocolate mousse cake-like dessert that looks like a giant truffle) for Rich's birthday cake.
Now - its time to work out!!
~K
Wednesday, September 17
Language Barrier
By far, the biggest stumbling block we've faced is the language barrier. Admittedly, we thought it was going to be less of a problem. Reality is another story. No matter how much you rehearse "the script" in your head, it's a whole different story when you have a living, breathing person in front of you. We try our best to not resort to the "Do you speak English?" game, but sometimes it's unavoidable.
Let's say you go into a bakery. You know you want a loaf of "country-bread" and you have the entire verbal exchange translated and practiced. But then they throw a couple of simple questions at you and your cover is blown. Uhh... "parlez vous anglais?" And then they say, "With cumin or without?" Oh... without, please.
In my job search, I've been told a few times that even if they were hiring at the moment, it would be a problem if I cannot speak Dutch. Sure, I knew that would generally be the case, but because most people have been able to speak English at a rudimentary level at least, my thought/hope was/is that it wouldn't be a problem for long. If I was immersed in it on a daily basis and taking a class, I could pick up Dutch very quickly. And before too long, the amount of English we'd have to speak to each other would be negligable.
People have been very kind and willing to speak English to us. The woman who we dealt with to open our bank account even went as far as apologizing for her English! We kept telling her "No, we are sorry." So, we've been able to get along just fine so far and it will only get better. The only time we had a more serious problem was at the commune office.
The office is open daily between 8 and 11 am. That is the window in which all foreigners can apply for a Belgian ID card and/or register with the commune which is what we were trying to do. There was a big room with many "tellers" and seats for people to wait their turn. But before getting in there, you have to check-in at a booth in the entrance. When we got up to the window, Kristen stated our purpose in French, thinking he would just give us a number and motion us in. Instead, he asked a question. A question neither of us understood. Parlez vous anglais? "No. No English!" He tried the question a couple more times in French, but then we just gave up and got out of the line. Frustrated, we were ready to leave and then try coming back another day with someone who spoke French. However, I watched what other people were doing or being told at the window and I decided we should try again. So, this time I went up to the window and held up our passports with mine on top. He saw that I was an "EU citizen" and then spoke to me in broken English, motioning me around to the side so he could talk to me through the open door instead. "First time?" Yes. "Oh, OK!" Then he took our passports and wrote out a slip for each which states that we have to return on October 10th instead to register. That's what he had been asking for when we first got there!
That's right, we in my hood now!
Hmm... how do you say that in Dutch?
--RP--
By far, the biggest stumbling block we've faced is the language barrier. Admittedly, we thought it was going to be less of a problem. Reality is another story. No matter how much you rehearse "the script" in your head, it's a whole different story when you have a living, breathing person in front of you. We try our best to not resort to the "Do you speak English?" game, but sometimes it's unavoidable.
Let's say you go into a bakery. You know you want a loaf of "country-bread" and you have the entire verbal exchange translated and practiced. But then they throw a couple of simple questions at you and your cover is blown. Uhh... "parlez vous anglais?" And then they say, "With cumin or without?" Oh... without, please.
In my job search, I've been told a few times that even if they were hiring at the moment, it would be a problem if I cannot speak Dutch. Sure, I knew that would generally be the case, but because most people have been able to speak English at a rudimentary level at least, my thought/hope was/is that it wouldn't be a problem for long. If I was immersed in it on a daily basis and taking a class, I could pick up Dutch very quickly. And before too long, the amount of English we'd have to speak to each other would be negligable.
People have been very kind and willing to speak English to us. The woman who we dealt with to open our bank account even went as far as apologizing for her English! We kept telling her "No, we are sorry." So, we've been able to get along just fine so far and it will only get better. The only time we had a more serious problem was at the commune office.
The office is open daily between 8 and 11 am. That is the window in which all foreigners can apply for a Belgian ID card and/or register with the commune which is what we were trying to do. There was a big room with many "tellers" and seats for people to wait their turn. But before getting in there, you have to check-in at a booth in the entrance. When we got up to the window, Kristen stated our purpose in French, thinking he would just give us a number and motion us in. Instead, he asked a question. A question neither of us understood. Parlez vous anglais? "No. No English!" He tried the question a couple more times in French, but then we just gave up and got out of the line. Frustrated, we were ready to leave and then try coming back another day with someone who spoke French. However, I watched what other people were doing or being told at the window and I decided we should try again. So, this time I went up to the window and held up our passports with mine on top. He saw that I was an "EU citizen" and then spoke to me in broken English, motioning me around to the side so he could talk to me through the open door instead. "First time?" Yes. "Oh, OK!" Then he took our passports and wrote out a slip for each which states that we have to return on October 10th instead to register. That's what he had been asking for when we first got there!
That's right, we in my hood now!
Hmm... how do you say that in Dutch?
--RP--
Sunday, September 14
Job Search
My quest began last Wednesday. Being three days into it now, I have come to liken it to when the Buddhist monks go on a long journey by foot with nothing but their begging bowls. The people in the villages give them food as they seek further enlightenment.
So, here I am, taking a train to small towns outside of Brussels and walking for miles to find these little breweries. When I reach them, I throw caution to the wind and knock on the door. I've thoroughly rehearsed what I should say to them in Dutch, but when I have a person in front of me it's a different story. Anxiety takes it's toll and I have to fall back on "Sprekt u engels?" to switch the conversation into language I can actually use. Luckily, so far they have all spoken English well enough and have not been annoyed by having to do so.
My first day, last Wednesday, was particularly challenging. The weather was a bit poor and I had come unprepared for rain. But the solution was laid before me when I came upon a street-market at which I purchased a cheap umbrella. I used my large map of Belgium to get me to the vicinity of the brewery and then navigated by finding the town map which is generally posted in the center of town near the town's church.
The first brewery was intimidatingly large (they are famous for their line of Affligem abbey ales). When I walked by I could smell wort being boiled inside the brewery... a heavenly smell of malt and hops. I spoke to a lady at the reception desk who told me that there was no work at the moment, but I left my resume with her. Then I went to have some lunch. It had started to rain pretty hard, so I took my time. The tomato soup, ground-beef patty topped with two fried eggs, salad, and french fries meal was good fuel. Aside from the fantastic food available along the way, Kristen has been so sweet every morning by preparing a sensible breakfast for me so I can get the day started right. Good thing too, because of the amount of walking I've been doing.
After the rain let up, I paid my bill and headed back out. I constructed a map on a piece of paper by comparing my large map (lacking in fine detail like the names of the small streets) to the one in the town square. It is times like these that makes me wish I had brought the Civil War compass that Kristen had given me. Sadly, it is buried in her jewelry box in our storage room in Oregon. Anyway, to get to the second brewery, I took a narrow road through the countryside. The cows, sheep, and the odd car now and then, looked at me as though I was an alien. Not surprising. At one point, a farmer drove by me with his tractor, pulling a flat-bed trailer. He waved. Another twenty minutes later, I reached the brewery and, funnily enough, that same farmer was parked inside the brewery's courtyard. He was picking up "spent grain" to feed his livestock (spent grain is malted barley or wheat that has been mashed and discarded by a brewery). He recognized me and I was able to fumble out enough Dutch that he understood what I was doing. So, he went into the brewery to find the owner who came out a few minutes later to speak to me. He was not hiring at the moment either, but took my resume for possible employment in the future.
Two interviews down, it was time to go home. As the rain had picked up again, I didn't want to walk through the country-side again. Especially since my cheap umbrella was about to blow out from the gusty wind. Luckily, I found a bus that headed straight to Brussels in about 20 minutes. And it only cost 1.80 euros, though it took twice as long as the train.
Walking around the Belgian countryside is quite a peaceful experience. It is very beautiful out there and these little Belgian towns! Since I have a policy of not using the word "cute" to describe inanimate objects... how do I describe them? Well, at the risk of sounding trite, I'd use words like "quaint", "picturesque", and "rustic". Public transportation outside Brussels is still pretty thorough, though it's pretty much limited to trains and buses. However, since I have no local knowledge, it is difficult to take a bus when I don't know what stop to get off at. That's why I end up using my own two feet more often. Luckily, I am blessed with the ability to pretty much walk continuously and untirelessly for long periods of time. I just sort of "phase out" and let the kilometers fall behind me. It's been very cathartic and now that I have several brewery visits under my belt, it's not as intimidating.
I don't want to bore you with pedantic details of Thursday and Friday's journey, but there are a couple of good snippets I'd like to share.
The first brewery I visited on Thursday was a bit far from the train station I got off at. An hour's walk, to be exact. The map I had printed on Mapquest was inaccurate. The journey was fully worth it, however. Brouwerij De Smedt is in a beautiful old building on a breathtakingly amazing property, surrounded by farmland. The reception put me in touch with the owner who took a few minutes out of his busy schedule to speak to me. Then he introduced me to his brewmaster and had him give me a tour of the brewery! Though, Luc (the brewer) was busy filtering a beer, he spent about 20-30 minutes showing me around. We also went to the tasting room to try one of his beers. Then he went over my map of breweries and told me which ones were closed and which were easiest to find. He was very generous with his time. What a treat! And a good morale boost for me.
On Friday, I decided to have an easy day by only going to two breweries. I picked two in Leuven which was the town we were first considering moving to (a rather large university there). Since neither of us had seen this town, I convinced Kristen to go with me. Beautiful city. Lots of insanely old and immensely beautiful architecture, 15th - 17th century! The brewery in Leuven was more of a brewpub. We had lunch there and then I tried to speak to the brewer, but the brewery section was closed. So I just slipped my resume in the mail-slot. Then we took a bus to a small town just outside Leuven called Linden. This town could be described as "darling". It didn't take long to navigate to the "brewery", but I was a bit dismayed when we got there. It was in someone's house! There was a homemade sign hanging on the mailbox with the name of the brewery and a phone number. My thought was that if they operated out of a house, they/he/she probably was not looking to hire anybody. Oh well. We got back on the bus to Leuven, where we caught the next train back to Brussels.
That's it for now. I have about 20 or so more breweries to visit, so I'll be at this for at least one more week. Planning to start the week with a big day, visiting four breweries around Mechelen. I'll use Mechelen as my starting place and take buses out to the outlying areas. Now that I've fine-tuned my trip-planning and navigation by trial and error, I should be able to move around more efficiently. Luckily, the train and bus fares aren't too expensive or I'd need a much bigger budget to complete this quest. I'd like to get through it as soon as possible though. Time and money are starting to run low. If I'm not successful in landing a brewery job, I will seek out something "normal" which shouldn't be too difficult what with all the job agencies around here. There's even an Adecco here!
--RP--
My quest began last Wednesday. Being three days into it now, I have come to liken it to when the Buddhist monks go on a long journey by foot with nothing but their begging bowls. The people in the villages give them food as they seek further enlightenment.
So, here I am, taking a train to small towns outside of Brussels and walking for miles to find these little breweries. When I reach them, I throw caution to the wind and knock on the door. I've thoroughly rehearsed what I should say to them in Dutch, but when I have a person in front of me it's a different story. Anxiety takes it's toll and I have to fall back on "Sprekt u engels?" to switch the conversation into language I can actually use. Luckily, so far they have all spoken English well enough and have not been annoyed by having to do so.
My first day, last Wednesday, was particularly challenging. The weather was a bit poor and I had come unprepared for rain. But the solution was laid before me when I came upon a street-market at which I purchased a cheap umbrella. I used my large map of Belgium to get me to the vicinity of the brewery and then navigated by finding the town map which is generally posted in the center of town near the town's church.
The first brewery was intimidatingly large (they are famous for their line of Affligem abbey ales). When I walked by I could smell wort being boiled inside the brewery... a heavenly smell of malt and hops. I spoke to a lady at the reception desk who told me that there was no work at the moment, but I left my resume with her. Then I went to have some lunch. It had started to rain pretty hard, so I took my time. The tomato soup, ground-beef patty topped with two fried eggs, salad, and french fries meal was good fuel. Aside from the fantastic food available along the way, Kristen has been so sweet every morning by preparing a sensible breakfast for me so I can get the day started right. Good thing too, because of the amount of walking I've been doing.
After the rain let up, I paid my bill and headed back out. I constructed a map on a piece of paper by comparing my large map (lacking in fine detail like the names of the small streets) to the one in the town square. It is times like these that makes me wish I had brought the Civil War compass that Kristen had given me. Sadly, it is buried in her jewelry box in our storage room in Oregon. Anyway, to get to the second brewery, I took a narrow road through the countryside. The cows, sheep, and the odd car now and then, looked at me as though I was an alien. Not surprising. At one point, a farmer drove by me with his tractor, pulling a flat-bed trailer. He waved. Another twenty minutes later, I reached the brewery and, funnily enough, that same farmer was parked inside the brewery's courtyard. He was picking up "spent grain" to feed his livestock (spent grain is malted barley or wheat that has been mashed and discarded by a brewery). He recognized me and I was able to fumble out enough Dutch that he understood what I was doing. So, he went into the brewery to find the owner who came out a few minutes later to speak to me. He was not hiring at the moment either, but took my resume for possible employment in the future.
Two interviews down, it was time to go home. As the rain had picked up again, I didn't want to walk through the country-side again. Especially since my cheap umbrella was about to blow out from the gusty wind. Luckily, I found a bus that headed straight to Brussels in about 20 minutes. And it only cost 1.80 euros, though it took twice as long as the train.
Walking around the Belgian countryside is quite a peaceful experience. It is very beautiful out there and these little Belgian towns! Since I have a policy of not using the word "cute" to describe inanimate objects... how do I describe them? Well, at the risk of sounding trite, I'd use words like "quaint", "picturesque", and "rustic". Public transportation outside Brussels is still pretty thorough, though it's pretty much limited to trains and buses. However, since I have no local knowledge, it is difficult to take a bus when I don't know what stop to get off at. That's why I end up using my own two feet more often. Luckily, I am blessed with the ability to pretty much walk continuously and untirelessly for long periods of time. I just sort of "phase out" and let the kilometers fall behind me. It's been very cathartic and now that I have several brewery visits under my belt, it's not as intimidating.
I don't want to bore you with pedantic details of Thursday and Friday's journey, but there are a couple of good snippets I'd like to share.
The first brewery I visited on Thursday was a bit far from the train station I got off at. An hour's walk, to be exact. The map I had printed on Mapquest was inaccurate. The journey was fully worth it, however. Brouwerij De Smedt is in a beautiful old building on a breathtakingly amazing property, surrounded by farmland. The reception put me in touch with the owner who took a few minutes out of his busy schedule to speak to me. Then he introduced me to his brewmaster and had him give me a tour of the brewery! Though, Luc (the brewer) was busy filtering a beer, he spent about 20-30 minutes showing me around. We also went to the tasting room to try one of his beers. Then he went over my map of breweries and told me which ones were closed and which were easiest to find. He was very generous with his time. What a treat! And a good morale boost for me.
On Friday, I decided to have an easy day by only going to two breweries. I picked two in Leuven which was the town we were first considering moving to (a rather large university there). Since neither of us had seen this town, I convinced Kristen to go with me. Beautiful city. Lots of insanely old and immensely beautiful architecture, 15th - 17th century! The brewery in Leuven was more of a brewpub. We had lunch there and then I tried to speak to the brewer, but the brewery section was closed. So I just slipped my resume in the mail-slot. Then we took a bus to a small town just outside Leuven called Linden. This town could be described as "darling". It didn't take long to navigate to the "brewery", but I was a bit dismayed when we got there. It was in someone's house! There was a homemade sign hanging on the mailbox with the name of the brewery and a phone number. My thought was that if they operated out of a house, they/he/she probably was not looking to hire anybody. Oh well. We got back on the bus to Leuven, where we caught the next train back to Brussels.
That's it for now. I have about 20 or so more breweries to visit, so I'll be at this for at least one more week. Planning to start the week with a big day, visiting four breweries around Mechelen. I'll use Mechelen as my starting place and take buses out to the outlying areas. Now that I've fine-tuned my trip-planning and navigation by trial and error, I should be able to move around more efficiently. Luckily, the train and bus fares aren't too expensive or I'd need a much bigger budget to complete this quest. I'd like to get through it as soon as possible though. Time and money are starting to run low. If I'm not successful in landing a brewery job, I will seek out something "normal" which shouldn't be too difficult what with all the job agencies around here. There's even an Adecco here!
--RP--
Saturday, September 13
A Saturday Morning
It is a perfect Fall day, so this morning we went exploring in our new neighborhood. The weekends are a good time to walk because there aren't many cars on the roads. Its fairly peaceful and quiet. Up til today, we have tended to always go in one direction when we leave the apartment, which is towards: the grocery store/bank/metro/park, all of which are in the same general area. So today we turned right out of the front door instead of heading left. In this new direction, the tree-lined streets are primarily residential with brick brownstone type buildings and some small shops and cafes. In one square, on Rue Victor Hugo, there was a busy flea market in progress, so we wandered around looking at all varieties of crap and ended up buying three really cheap beer glasses. Now Rich has a slightly larger assortment of glasses to pair with the appropriate beers. We are wondering if the market is a regular event, because it would be a great place to pick up some other items we need for the apartment (dish drainer, frying pan, more beer glasses, clock). We'll have to check again in a couple of weeks. After a few more twists and turns we stumbled upon an inexpensive grocery store, part of a chain called 'Colruyt.' It is set up like a much smaller version of Costco, definitely a buy-in-bulk, no frills shopping experience. The store is located a couple of blocks from us and is closer and cheaper than the one we have been using, so I think its time to switch. We perused the store without buying anything and then continued on our way. Food must have been in our minds this morning, because we came upon another grocery store, 'Del Haize,' and had to go in and check it out. It is exactly like Safeway, with several small differences; you have to weigh your own produce and print out a little sticker with a bar code on it before you go to the cashier, the chocolate selection fills one side of an aisle - the entire length, and fantastic Belgian beer can be purchased for less than one euro. We gave in to our cravings and went shopping! Its good that we can only buy as much as we can carry, or we would have gone crazy.
Checking out the neighborhood was a very successful venture. We found a couple of cafes to try, a new grocery store that will save us money, and discovered that we are surrounded on all sides by pretty, well-maintained apartment buildings and houses. Its a nice feeling to like where you live.
~K
It is a perfect Fall day, so this morning we went exploring in our new neighborhood. The weekends are a good time to walk because there aren't many cars on the roads. Its fairly peaceful and quiet. Up til today, we have tended to always go in one direction when we leave the apartment, which is towards: the grocery store/bank/metro/park, all of which are in the same general area. So today we turned right out of the front door instead of heading left. In this new direction, the tree-lined streets are primarily residential with brick brownstone type buildings and some small shops and cafes. In one square, on Rue Victor Hugo, there was a busy flea market in progress, so we wandered around looking at all varieties of crap and ended up buying three really cheap beer glasses. Now Rich has a slightly larger assortment of glasses to pair with the appropriate beers. We are wondering if the market is a regular event, because it would be a great place to pick up some other items we need for the apartment (dish drainer, frying pan, more beer glasses, clock). We'll have to check again in a couple of weeks. After a few more twists and turns we stumbled upon an inexpensive grocery store, part of a chain called 'Colruyt.' It is set up like a much smaller version of Costco, definitely a buy-in-bulk, no frills shopping experience. The store is located a couple of blocks from us and is closer and cheaper than the one we have been using, so I think its time to switch. We perused the store without buying anything and then continued on our way. Food must have been in our minds this morning, because we came upon another grocery store, 'Del Haize,' and had to go in and check it out. It is exactly like Safeway, with several small differences; you have to weigh your own produce and print out a little sticker with a bar code on it before you go to the cashier, the chocolate selection fills one side of an aisle - the entire length, and fantastic Belgian beer can be purchased for less than one euro. We gave in to our cravings and went shopping! Its good that we can only buy as much as we can carry, or we would have gone crazy.
Checking out the neighborhood was a very successful venture. We found a couple of cafes to try, a new grocery store that will save us money, and discovered that we are surrounded on all sides by pretty, well-maintained apartment buildings and houses. Its a nice feeling to like where you live.
~K
Thursday, September 11
Beer Festival
The "Belgian Beer Weekend" took place on the weekend of the 5th-7th in the Grand Place (or as I like to call it, the Grote Markt). It was a beer festival with free entry and token exchange for full-glass beer samples. 3 tokens (bottle caps) cost 2 euros which, because of the bad economy in the US, is about $2.35. Most beers cost 3 tokens, but many were 2 and some were 4. Though this event was a little "commercial" (i.e.- only the larger Belgian breweries), it was a delectable event. Beers from the entire spectrum of Belgian beers, as previously described in a verbose post back in July. And I did pretty well, tasting all across that spectrum. What a welcome to Brussels! All of our (or atleast my) worries melted away!
Kristen and I went on Saturday... and I returned again on Sunday (just couldn't stay away). We met up with my new Belgian friend, Jeroen. A guy I had corresponded with a few times on beeradvocate.com before moving here. We arranged to meet at the Trappist stand at 4pm. With physical descriptions of each other, that wasn't too difficult, even in a throng of people (and the throng was thronging quite ferociously). He introduced us to his wife, friends, and newborn son, Arthur. They had to leave soon after we met him though because Arthur wanted his favorite beverage! However, I met up with Jeroen and a couple of his friends again on Sunday. This is the start of a beautiful friendship. Outside of having someone to talk beer with, it eased our fears a bit to have someone over here to ask questions. He was very generous with advice over e-mail, before we even met him.
We've had good "people experiences" here for the most part, but more about that in the Job Search section of this initial tour of our life in Brussels.
--RP--
The "Belgian Beer Weekend" took place on the weekend of the 5th-7th in the Grand Place (or as I like to call it, the Grote Markt). It was a beer festival with free entry and token exchange for full-glass beer samples. 3 tokens (bottle caps) cost 2 euros which, because of the bad economy in the US, is about $2.35. Most beers cost 3 tokens, but many were 2 and some were 4. Though this event was a little "commercial" (i.e.- only the larger Belgian breweries), it was a delectable event. Beers from the entire spectrum of Belgian beers, as previously described in a verbose post back in July. And I did pretty well, tasting all across that spectrum. What a welcome to Brussels! All of our (or atleast my) worries melted away!
Kristen and I went on Saturday... and I returned again on Sunday (just couldn't stay away). We met up with my new Belgian friend, Jeroen. A guy I had corresponded with a few times on beeradvocate.com before moving here. We arranged to meet at the Trappist stand at 4pm. With physical descriptions of each other, that wasn't too difficult, even in a throng of people (and the throng was thronging quite ferociously). He introduced us to his wife, friends, and newborn son, Arthur. They had to leave soon after we met him though because Arthur wanted his favorite beverage! However, I met up with Jeroen and a couple of his friends again on Sunday. This is the start of a beautiful friendship. Outside of having someone to talk beer with, it eased our fears a bit to have someone over here to ask questions. He was very generous with advice over e-mail, before we even met him.
We've had good "people experiences" here for the most part, but more about that in the Job Search section of this initial tour of our life in Brussels.
--RP--
Mysterious H
There's an enigma in this fair city (Brussels). The red letter H on a smallish, square sign, affixed to many buildings on the street-side. We noticed it right away and are not sure what it is for. They are all over the city. One clue is that there is always a metal lid or trap-door in the sidewalk, below the sign. Theories:
1) Definitely doesn't mean "Hospital"
2) Access to a natural gas line?
3) H for "Hydrant" in case of fires?
4) Secret trap-door for small people to get into the bomb-shelters buried 30 meters below the buildings?
Will let you know when we have found the answer...
--RP--
There's an enigma in this fair city (Brussels). The red letter H on a smallish, square sign, affixed to many buildings on the street-side. We noticed it right away and are not sure what it is for. They are all over the city. One clue is that there is always a metal lid or trap-door in the sidewalk, below the sign. Theories:
1) Definitely doesn't mean "Hospital"
2) Access to a natural gas line?
3) H for "Hydrant" in case of fires?
4) Secret trap-door for small people to get into the bomb-shelters buried 30 meters below the buildings?
Will let you know when we have found the answer...
--RP--
Wednesday, September 10
How The Trip Went
Let's see if I can remember... it seems so long ago that we left the US. We got up at 4:45 am on September 2nd (Pacific Time) and were relieved that our chauffeurs (Jake and Joan) had also arisen. Because of the "pre-production" Kristen and I had done in the month prior to this ungodly hour, we really only had to get in the car and leave. That's pretty much what we did. Leaving the house at 5:25 am, we arrived at the Portland Airport at close to 6:00 am.
Check-in went smoothly, the line was not too long. To our relief, we found out that the international flight weight limit on bags is 70 lbs, as opposed to the 50 lbs we had tried to meet. When we got to the ticket-counter, the extra 20 lbs per bag was akin to divine intervention. Two bags were about 60 lbs each, another was 65, and the fourth was 76 lbs. Over the limit! On a domestic flight you would only be charged $25 for being over the limit. International flights are a different story. We would have had to pay close to $400 for those 6 extra lbs! Almost as much as a ticket! However, the nice man at the counter had me lay the heavy bag on the scale and then he watched it as I removed items from it and placed them in the lightest bag. Luckily everything fit and we were on our way. Our first plane left at 8:15 am, bound for Washington-Dulles.
Not much else to report for the duration of our flight. Went pretty smoothly. We had to sit separately on the first flight because it was overbooked. Around us were a whole bunch of students from University of Portland who were on the way to a "Semester Abroad" in Germany. Please... a semester? And they had the gaul to complain about how much they had to do to prepare! I sat there smugly, knowing that what Kristen and I had embarked was so much more insane. In flight entertainment was "Down With Love" and "Chicago"... a Rene Zellweger marathon.
We landed in Washington with enough time before our connection to take a bathroom break and for Kristen to have some food. The second leg went just as smoothly. No horrible stories to tell. Food was OK. Plenty of leg-room. This time we had 9 TV channels and many more music programs to choose from and individual monitors in the head-rest in front of us. Several films played on continuous loop, along with TV shows. On the mini-screens were such great hits as "Bruce Almighty", "Daddy Daycare", and "Identity". Neither of us really slept at all. Too busy being freaked out at the reality of our situation. We descended into Brussels on Sept. 3rd at about 6:45 am (Brussels time which is GMT +1), 30 minutes early, with a beautiful sunrise on the right side of the plane.
Customs. Four long lines for non-EU nationals and one short line for EU citizens. Guess who got through first? I didn't even get a stamp in my passport! He only asked me what my destination was. Kristen got through about 20 minutes later. She had been queried about her destination, purpose for entry, visa status and was told to report to the appropriate commune for registration within 3 days. Sometimes it's just a lot more convenient to not be a US citizen!
After that, we got through without even getting our bags checked. No customs declarations. Since we couldn't meet our landlord until 10:30 that morning, we circled the wagons in the corner of the terminal lobby and waited. I practiced some Dutch by ordering twee Coca Lights met ijse blockjes (two diet cokes with ice) from the lobby bar. The bartender very meticulously rattled three ice cubes into each cup. That's how it is in Europe. Ever since the ice-shortage of '84. However, they serve the drink at a much cooler starting temperature to make up for it. Who needs ice anyway?
At 9:30 we headed outside with our luggage and got in the taxi-line; a very efficiently run endeavor. Though the line was at least 100 people deep, it moved at a lighting pace. There was an even longer line of taxis waiting and a guy directing them to each passenger. As soon as one had left, there was another to take it's place. So, 30 euros and 25 minutes later, we were at our new doorstep. Two strangers in a strange land.
--RP--
Let's see if I can remember... it seems so long ago that we left the US. We got up at 4:45 am on September 2nd (Pacific Time) and were relieved that our chauffeurs (Jake and Joan) had also arisen. Because of the "pre-production" Kristen and I had done in the month prior to this ungodly hour, we really only had to get in the car and leave. That's pretty much what we did. Leaving the house at 5:25 am, we arrived at the Portland Airport at close to 6:00 am.
Check-in went smoothly, the line was not too long. To our relief, we found out that the international flight weight limit on bags is 70 lbs, as opposed to the 50 lbs we had tried to meet. When we got to the ticket-counter, the extra 20 lbs per bag was akin to divine intervention. Two bags were about 60 lbs each, another was 65, and the fourth was 76 lbs. Over the limit! On a domestic flight you would only be charged $25 for being over the limit. International flights are a different story. We would have had to pay close to $400 for those 6 extra lbs! Almost as much as a ticket! However, the nice man at the counter had me lay the heavy bag on the scale and then he watched it as I removed items from it and placed them in the lightest bag. Luckily everything fit and we were on our way. Our first plane left at 8:15 am, bound for Washington-Dulles.
Not much else to report for the duration of our flight. Went pretty smoothly. We had to sit separately on the first flight because it was overbooked. Around us were a whole bunch of students from University of Portland who were on the way to a "Semester Abroad" in Germany. Please... a semester? And they had the gaul to complain about how much they had to do to prepare! I sat there smugly, knowing that what Kristen and I had embarked was so much more insane. In flight entertainment was "Down With Love" and "Chicago"... a Rene Zellweger marathon.
We landed in Washington with enough time before our connection to take a bathroom break and for Kristen to have some food. The second leg went just as smoothly. No horrible stories to tell. Food was OK. Plenty of leg-room. This time we had 9 TV channels and many more music programs to choose from and individual monitors in the head-rest in front of us. Several films played on continuous loop, along with TV shows. On the mini-screens were such great hits as "Bruce Almighty", "Daddy Daycare", and "Identity". Neither of us really slept at all. Too busy being freaked out at the reality of our situation. We descended into Brussels on Sept. 3rd at about 6:45 am (Brussels time which is GMT +1), 30 minutes early, with a beautiful sunrise on the right side of the plane.
Customs. Four long lines for non-EU nationals and one short line for EU citizens. Guess who got through first? I didn't even get a stamp in my passport! He only asked me what my destination was. Kristen got through about 20 minutes later. She had been queried about her destination, purpose for entry, visa status and was told to report to the appropriate commune for registration within 3 days. Sometimes it's just a lot more convenient to not be a US citizen!
After that, we got through without even getting our bags checked. No customs declarations. Since we couldn't meet our landlord until 10:30 that morning, we circled the wagons in the corner of the terminal lobby and waited. I practiced some Dutch by ordering twee Coca Lights met ijse blockjes (two diet cokes with ice) from the lobby bar. The bartender very meticulously rattled three ice cubes into each cup. That's how it is in Europe. Ever since the ice-shortage of '84. However, they serve the drink at a much cooler starting temperature to make up for it. Who needs ice anyway?
At 9:30 we headed outside with our luggage and got in the taxi-line; a very efficiently run endeavor. Though the line was at least 100 people deep, it moved at a lighting pace. There was an even longer line of taxis waiting and a guy directing them to each passenger. As soon as one had left, there was another to take it's place. So, 30 euros and 25 minutes later, we were at our new doorstep. Two strangers in a strange land.
--RP--
The Apartment
We arrived at the apartment at 10:15 am last Wednesday (Belgium time). We were a bit early since the meeting with the landlord was scheduled for 10:30am, so we perched outside on our suitcases and waited. She arrived at 10:45 with her son in tow and, I think, is one of those people who is always in a rush, always late. I had been emailing back and forth with her for several weeks and it was nice to put a face with the name (Muriel). After apologizing profusely for being late, she unlocked the front door of the building and let us in. The building itself is three-stories high with five apartments, two of which are empty at the moment. The huge front door opens into an entry way, with stairs leading to the upper floors. Our apartment is one of two located on the ground floor. We walked in, or rather, I walked in while Rich hauled our baggage in from the sidewalk - it was really nice! I was so relieved! The ceilings are at least 12 feet high and freshly painted off-white. The walls also appear to be freshly painted, and are butter yellow. The floors are old pine (I think). If you walk into the apartment and look to the right , you see the two living room windows looking out onto the street and with sheer white panels and yellow curtains. They must be 8 feet high. They open inwards and have wide marble ledges that will be perfect for plants. There is also an old fireplace (blocked off) with a mantle and big, tall mirror. The furniture is simple: white loveseat, iron and tile coffee table, small table with 4 chairs, a desk and a TV. Oh, and a giant ugly yellow, green and red floor lamp with a H U G E lampshade, bigger than most umbrellas. Unbelievable. It looks like something from the Flintstones! On the walls there are four tiny little paintings, two on each side of the fireplace, all hung abnormally high up on the wall. Its a very interesting look. Back to the tour...
Looking straight ahead from the front door is the kitchen It is very small by American standards, but perfectly serviceable. The refrigerator is about 1/3 the size of what we are used to and we discovered that it doesn't get very cold. The freezer is miniscule, with enough room for an ice cube tray, ice cream and maybe one more thing. The counters are laminate and there is a nice tile backsplash all the way around, from the sink to the stovetop with two gas burners. The oven is on top of the refrigerator, which should give you an idea of how small the fridge is. No microwave and the only appliance is the coffee maker. I don't think we will be making any four-course meals! The cupboards and drawers are all well-stocked with dishes, utensils, pots, silverware, dish towels, etc.
To the left of the front door is a short, wide hall that leads to the bathroom and bedroom. In the hall itself, there is a large, coffin-sized wooden trunk on wheels that holds the vacuum cleaner, iron and a single-sized inflatable bed. The bathroom door is directly to the right and is sort of small, with a pedestal sink, mirror, yellow and blue tile walls, two built in shelves and a tub with a bright yellow and blue shower curtain. The only disconcerting thing is that there is no shower, just a hose with a nozzle on the end. I realize that people have taken baths for ages and gotten along just fine, but gosh, I'm going to miss taking long, hot showers! If the ceiling wasn't so high, the bathroom would feel tiny, but its actually fine.
The bedroom has a french door, a bed (obviously) with a yellow and red duvet, nightstand, lamp, armoire, two chairs, clothes rack and a strange tall chest with narrow drawers. Each drawer is big enough for maybe three pairs of socks. Not great storage! The best thing is that one whole wall is windows, with yellow and red curtains and a french door opening out into a private courtyard. There is a small red table and chairs, dead bamboo plants in pots and several planter boxes filled with dead plants. In the spring it will be great for planting flowers, but until then it is a great source of natural light. As soon as we open our eyes in the morning we can tell what the weather is doing. And today, its raining!
So that's the apartment. We feel lucky to have found it!
~K
We arrived at the apartment at 10:15 am last Wednesday (Belgium time). We were a bit early since the meeting with the landlord was scheduled for 10:30am, so we perched outside on our suitcases and waited. She arrived at 10:45 with her son in tow and, I think, is one of those people who is always in a rush, always late. I had been emailing back and forth with her for several weeks and it was nice to put a face with the name (Muriel). After apologizing profusely for being late, she unlocked the front door of the building and let us in. The building itself is three-stories high with five apartments, two of which are empty at the moment. The huge front door opens into an entry way, with stairs leading to the upper floors. Our apartment is one of two located on the ground floor. We walked in, or rather, I walked in while Rich hauled our baggage in from the sidewalk - it was really nice! I was so relieved! The ceilings are at least 12 feet high and freshly painted off-white. The walls also appear to be freshly painted, and are butter yellow. The floors are old pine (I think). If you walk into the apartment and look to the right , you see the two living room windows looking out onto the street and with sheer white panels and yellow curtains. They must be 8 feet high. They open inwards and have wide marble ledges that will be perfect for plants. There is also an old fireplace (blocked off) with a mantle and big, tall mirror. The furniture is simple: white loveseat, iron and tile coffee table, small table with 4 chairs, a desk and a TV. Oh, and a giant ugly yellow, green and red floor lamp with a H U G E lampshade, bigger than most umbrellas. Unbelievable. It looks like something from the Flintstones! On the walls there are four tiny little paintings, two on each side of the fireplace, all hung abnormally high up on the wall. Its a very interesting look. Back to the tour...
Looking straight ahead from the front door is the kitchen It is very small by American standards, but perfectly serviceable. The refrigerator is about 1/3 the size of what we are used to and we discovered that it doesn't get very cold. The freezer is miniscule, with enough room for an ice cube tray, ice cream and maybe one more thing. The counters are laminate and there is a nice tile backsplash all the way around, from the sink to the stovetop with two gas burners. The oven is on top of the refrigerator, which should give you an idea of how small the fridge is. No microwave and the only appliance is the coffee maker. I don't think we will be making any four-course meals! The cupboards and drawers are all well-stocked with dishes, utensils, pots, silverware, dish towels, etc.
To the left of the front door is a short, wide hall that leads to the bathroom and bedroom. In the hall itself, there is a large, coffin-sized wooden trunk on wheels that holds the vacuum cleaner, iron and a single-sized inflatable bed. The bathroom door is directly to the right and is sort of small, with a pedestal sink, mirror, yellow and blue tile walls, two built in shelves and a tub with a bright yellow and blue shower curtain. The only disconcerting thing is that there is no shower, just a hose with a nozzle on the end. I realize that people have taken baths for ages and gotten along just fine, but gosh, I'm going to miss taking long, hot showers! If the ceiling wasn't so high, the bathroom would feel tiny, but its actually fine.
The bedroom has a french door, a bed (obviously) with a yellow and red duvet, nightstand, lamp, armoire, two chairs, clothes rack and a strange tall chest with narrow drawers. Each drawer is big enough for maybe three pairs of socks. Not great storage! The best thing is that one whole wall is windows, with yellow and red curtains and a french door opening out into a private courtyard. There is a small red table and chairs, dead bamboo plants in pots and several planter boxes filled with dead plants. In the spring it will be great for planting flowers, but until then it is a great source of natural light. As soon as we open our eyes in the morning we can tell what the weather is doing. And today, its raining!
So that's the apartment. We feel lucky to have found it!
~K
Tuesday, September 9
Thursday, September 4
Monday, September 1
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