Yesterday Was a Good Day

Tuesday was a rotten travel day.

For some reason (which I'm sure I could research, but have not), the Belgians have decided that every Tuesday is strike day for the train system. I got lucky in that Tuesday, April 1 was strike day at the airports. Though I left on April 1, I did not land in Belgium until April 2 the day after strike day.

I find strikes in Europe amusing at best, yet also annoying. Those following local news know all about them and make other plans. Those not in the know (i.e., tourists) are inconvenienced. Enough inconveniences and we stop coming back.

Don and I still remember such a strike in Paris about 30 years ago. Our train stopped mere meters from the train station because of un greve. We could see the station, but we were not allowed to get off of the train. Finally we followed others and did jump off the train, luggage and all. A few years earlier I had been in Paris with my then-boyfriend and a couple of friends. We took a taxi back to the hotel. In my rose colored view of that trip, I don't remember the cost. As none of us had a credit card, we must have pooled our francs to pay for the journey -- one which took us past all the major sights of the city, hence I suspect it was not the most efficient path.

This week's one-day strike meant I could not use my already paid for tickets to go to Amsterdam to go to the already paid for ticket to the Anne Frank House. Don is working with the credit card company to dispute the charge. It would be nice if the train company would automatically issue a refund, or if I could simply walk into a train station to get a refund, but that's not how it works. There is an online form, but in order to use that I need an IBAN (International Bank Account Number) to complete the form. There is no option to say: put it back on my credit card. The Anne Frank ticket I asked to donate to a tourist who showed up without one. 

The rest of the day was spent trying to salvage the day. I went to an archaeology museum, and to see the cathedral's treasures (minus the most famous one someone tried to steal last year and is now kept under lock and key). The weather was beautiful -- a rarity in Belgium.

Back to yesterday. 

I woke up with a migraine and went back to sleep for a couple of hours. 

No, that wasn't what made the day good.

I regrouped my plans and took a train to Antwerp. I thought I must have gone to Antwerp at some point, but clearly I didn't as nothing looked familiar. It looked like it was described in a list of 15 things to do in Antwerp, but not familiar as Liege did the moment I walked past the school I attended, and the bus stop I used daily.

It was another blue sky day. The gold statues on the tops of the Guild Houses absolutely sparkled. I saw most everything on the list, and made plans to return with Don to see the rest later this year. Antwerp is very bike-friendly, and walkable. I'm not sure it is a city I would want to live in because of all of the tourists, but with the train station featuring 24 tracks, it is a place I could see staying in for an extended period of time as I explored other places. I think this is where Don and I will stay the next time we visit Belgium.

The day was good because I realized I do enjoy traveling. I enjoy seeing new places and meeting new people. I felt reconnected to something I thought I lost inside me.

Thoughts on Liege

Rather than viewing Liege through the rose-colored lenses of being an 18-year old exchange student, today I viewed them through a 55-year old world traveling adult. 

I was disappointed and a bit sad.

Part of my feelings are the disappointments I am feeling about my host families. Five years and a half years ago I visited them and stayed with them. The trip was hurried. I promised I'd come back. The pandemic slowed things down. But, I am back.

Despite sending Facebook messages and mailing notes, I have not been able to connect with two of the families. The third one we are meeting up for lunch. I was hoping over a two week span I could also connect with their children, but everyone is busy.

I'm grateful to see host family number two (I had three families), but the disappointment hurts. I tried again today with an "I am here" message. I need to give up and make other plans.

I am thrilled my host son is picking me up on Friday to visit with his family. That is shaping up to be the highlight of the trip.

I am here.

The city feels different.

In about two weeks the much anticipated tram will be up and running. Yes, right after I leave. It is beautiful, and like the shiny Guillemins train station is transforming Liege into a destination.

I have noticed a lot more beggars. I don't remember any from my youth, but why would they have asked a high school student for money. Maybe they have always been there. Maybe there are more now.

I also feel like I am seeing more tourists. People about my age.

Liege is more of a foodie town than I remembered. I'll have to check out the restaurants tomorrow. Tonight I went grocery shopping and bought prepared cauliflower soup that reminded me of living here.

The town feels dirtier than I remembered. It was never a shiny place, but it seems ever dirtier. Am I comparing it to places like Melbourne that sparkle? Maybe. Perhaps the pollution has made it even dirtier and buildings have not been power washed.

As I walked from the train station to the VRBO (a 35 minute walk), I passed the school I attended, and walked past shops I remember from the 1980s. The VRBO is near Place St.-Lambert, now called Vingt-Aout in memory of WWI soldiers who perished on a particularly gruesome battle. It was rechristened in 2013. I recognize places.

Tomorrow I'll walk farther afield. Maybe I'll leave notes in the mailboxes of my host families. But, probably not. 

When I landed in Denmark I felt a weight lifting. It is hard living in the United States. I told a Belgian-Algerian woman not to travel to the United States. It is not safe for her cafe au lait colored skin, even as a tourist. She hears awful things about our gun culture. I can't defend the United States.

I overheard a few businessmen sitting behind me on the 90-minute flight from Copenhagen. They were talking about Trump and how shortsighted his attacks on our healthcare system are. Again, I couldn't defend the United States.

My French has always been lacking in areas including cars and computers. Last time it took days for me to realize WiFi was pronounced wee-fee! Anyone who has studied French knows the "i" is pronounced "eee" when reciting the alphabet. 

As is typical for me when I travel, I am tired but am having troubles sleeping because of all the strange noises. The building I am in is labeled AirBNB, so the global issues of people buying apartments as businesses instead of places to live has spread here, too (and I am not helping the cause, I know). Short term renters treat places differently than people who live there. After midnight I could hear people coming "home" (from where on a Wednesday night, I have no idea). I can hear motorcycles and other traffic three floors below me even though I am on a very quiet street that leads to a parking garage. I know I'll sleep more soundly tomorrow.

I'm going to try another attempt at sleep. I hope to tint my vision back towards pink tomorrow.

Bonne nuit!

I Made it to Belgium

Twenty-two hours after leaving home I walked up to my VRBO apartment home for the next two weeks. For a few more hours, I could have gone back to Australia.

I know these thoughts are coming from a place of tired, so bear with me on my whining.

I arrived at Newark four hours early for my flight and after waiting behind only one couple, I was seated at the gate approximately three hours and 50 minutes before my flight.

I find airports a bit numbing. I think of them as purgatory. There are airports I love filled with much to do and lots of places to walk around, even museums and artwork and silent rooms, and much more. Then there was the leg of Terminal B where I hung out. There were a couple of places to eat, and a couple of places to buy "last minute" souvenirs, but I couldn't even find a crossword puzzle book to replace the one I bought several years ago that is nearly empty. The charging station wasn't working, but I did find another place to top off my phone.

The SAS flight had all the signs of leaving on time. And it did! The pilot even announced there was a chance we would land early because of the wind patterns -- welcome news to the vast majority of us who were using CPH as a hub to our real destination, and each flight had minimal layover. 

Then we sat on the tarmac for about two hours.

You know you are not going anywhere when the pilot tells us to take off our seatbelts and use the bathrooms while we wait.

The reason for the delay seems to be mechanical. They rebooted the computers and sent us on our way. True to his predication, the flight time was an hour late, but with the delay we landed as my next plane took off.

I had an empty seat next to me so I tried to lie down on the two seats. The woman in front of me politely asked if she could lean back, I asked her not to because of my long legs. She leaned back all the way. Why bother asking? I felt trapped. The only way I could get out of my seat was to press against her seat (okay, maybe I did that to make a point).

I ended up moving to the empty seat next to me so I could binge watch The Big Bang Theory (yes, it is as funny as my friends have been telling me). When I stayed in my seat, the screen was too close to my face.

There was no wait at customs. A one hour layover at CPH (Copenhagen) is completely do-able.

I went to forage for food. After I bought breakfast I noticed a voucher for free food as compensation for the delay. I used it to acquire a sandwich for later. SAS rebooked me on a flight to Brussels on another airline. Their next flight would have been another two hour delay. As we were landing, they made an announcement with the gate numbers for the flights people had a chance of making, and announcing the new times for the rest of us. It was such a long list they only read it in English instead of also reading it in Swedish.

Nearly four hours later I boarded a Brussels Air flight. Brussels Air reminded me of Peoples Express. The seats were old. There were fees for everything, including water. The plane flapped about in the wind as we landed. I was happy to have a window seat.

I retrieved my bag (it was too heavy for carryon status) and bought a train ticket to Liege. I must have just missed a train because my wait time was nearly an hour. I met a lovely Belgian-Algerian woman. She enjoyed practicing her English on me, and I practiced my French on her. She guided me to the transfer, which cut 20 minutes off our train ride.

I had every intention of taking a train from Guillemins to St.-Lambert, but there was a 45 minute wait and Google maps said it would be a 39 minute walk. I could have taken a bus, but I was too tired to figure out where to go. As I walked I marveled at the new trams which are doing practice runs for the next two weeks. They start running officially after I leave.

Google Maps are amazing. I found my VRBO on a tiny street near Le Carre. Without Google Maps I would still be wandering around, or rather I would have messaged my host for help. 

The apartment is listed as being on the second floor. I translated that to (American) third floor, and I was right. The wooden spiral staircase seems to be a bigger challenge on the way down than it was on the way up. I'll worry about that in a couple of weeks.

I slept from 8:30 pm - 11:30 pm and am wide awake at 3:30 am. I think I'll try reading a book.