17 June 2004
B is for Brussels. B is also for bad drivers, bad service and bureaucracy, all of which are abundant here in the EU capital. I am wondering if that is why the EU set up camp here, or did it just become like that after the EU arrived. It's the chicken and the egg all over again.
Anyway, I've been here for just over 24 hours which is long enough to realise that although the countryside outside Brussels is very nice, the people are just weird. But then perhaps that is because the rules by which the place is governed are just plain weird. For instance, until not too long ago one didn't need a driving licence to drive a car (clearly obvious when you see how dreadful they are at it - and that from me, who can't even drive!). Also, it is illegal to go anywhere in your car without 20 Euros in cash on you and bicyles and pedestrians have right of way over cars. Work that one out!
Apparently the Belgians are the hardest workers in Europe - this, according to a poll they themselves commissioned. However, this does not ring true with my friend Cindy, a no-nonsense South African who has recanted numerous tales of bizarre 'passing the buck' scenarios that she's experienced since moving here a year ago. In her words, "....the Belgians wouldn't know hard work if it jumped up and bit them on the bum!" But, on the plus side, the ice cream is yummy, the chocolates divine and the beer is cheaper than water.
Anyway, a daunting task lies ahead - the reducing of my rucksack contents. At the moment it is the size and weight of a small African elephant (much like myself) so I have found it pretty much impossible to get it on my back without placing it on a high surface and climbing into it. I can't lift it so something has to go. I'm not sure what, because I promise I only packed what was on the 'Intrepid Explorers' list of things to pack. Anyway, I cannot continue until I ditch some stuff or else I'm going to end up in Mongolia looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dam.
Tomorrow I leave bureaucratic Belgium - Land of the bonkers people, and catch the 18.19 train from Brussels Midi bound for Russia. Two days and nights of Eastern European countryside awaits before I arrive in Moscow, early Saturday morning.
Until then, Da Svidanya
