I have to keep this brief, as usual, as I do not have much time to write. I had to change my accommodation in Hamburg and figure out how I would get to Copenhagen from there. I also have to figure out how to get from Stavanger to Bergen, after which I should, hopefully, have finished planning the rest of my trip (although things often change).
I am a little apprehensive about visiting northern Germany, as I am not sure if it has the same cultural riches as much of the south and west. The pictures that looked so interesting to me several months ago no longer do so, and I do not know if I will get the full value out of my rail pass. Nonetheless, it should be an interesting leg of my journey, as all of these turn out to be; some of the cities or areas that sound least interesting turn out to be enthralling.
My first note is that one does not get free water in Belgium, unlike in France. In fact, waiters here are demonstratively rude when one declines to order a drink; as it turns out, they are paid well and do not expect tips, as a result of which they do not work for them (I did not know this, as a result of which I overtipped a waitress, which initially made me quite angry but will not make a difference in the cosmic scale of things.). The food here is quite good and is heavier than that of France; the man with whom I had dinner the other night posited that it was a sort of fusion between French and Dutch food, which sounded plausible to me.
I have noted that the tiny towns that one passes on the train here appear to be in fine condition, unlike in, say, Hungary, where it is clear that people in small towns (and even small cities -- in fact, even in Budapest) are incredibly poor. The landscapes here are boring: besides cows, trees, and the occasional canal, there is nothing to look at. I have not seen any interesting birds lately besides magpies, though I heard a little nice birdsong in Antwerp today. Finally, Belgium seems a little more humane than France, as some of its railway stations (the smaller ones) have free restrooms.
I woke up with the sun in my face on Tuesday and Wednesday, when I was staying in Ghent. I had slept well and quite enjoyed being right on a canal, above a bunch of bars and restaurants, as people's conversations and laughter ebbed and fell in a very pleasant background noise. The blinds, however, could not keep out the sun in the mornings; one awoke early so automatically that it felt like camping (I am relatively far north at this point; the sun sets later and rises earlier here than in the south of France.). I took a tram on Wednesday morning that moved slightly faster than walking and won a young woman's approval by demonstrating a desire to see much more of Belgium than just Brussels, in which many tourists, apparently, start and end their trips here. I spent another fairy tale day in Bruges, which was much like Ghent, only with a more extensive, less concentrated old town (it was not as pretty as Ghent).
I did not give John and Louise nearly enough time in my last email. They were very interesting interlocutors and very nice people; they gave me keychain with a furry animal on it as a souvenir, and Louise gave me a piece of famous Ghent candy when she bought a bag of it to share. The two of them had heard the so-called "last call" in Ypres, which was, apparently, incredible; their daughter was playing in a marching band that was touring Europe in remembrance of the 100-year anniversary of the start of World War I and the 70-year anniversary of the beginning of the Germans' defeat in World War II (if I have my history straight), and the two of them were following her itinerary. There were, it turns out, people from all of the Commonwealth nations, including Australians, Indians, and Brits, in attendance at Ypres, and the last call is, apparently, quite affective. Finally, John said that the French were quite at peace with absurdity (e.g., sitting motionless in their cars for several minutes because a postal truck has parked in the middle of the street, which is only wide enough for one car, and not getting the slightest bit frustrated, as they accept that as a part of life), which assured me that I was not the only person who had come to think that after visiting the country.
Train schedules and tickets are much better here than in France, as one's tickets are not tied to any particular time, and trains between cities run more frequently (they are covering much smaller distances). They are also much worse, and cheaper, than in the Netherlands, where every stop is not only announced but also displayed in every carriage on a screen that changes in real-time. In Belgium, stops on regional trains are not announced at all, and railway officials do not tell one when one's train is expected to arrive at one's destination; one has to keep track of every stop oneself in order not to miss it.
Ghent is the only place where I have seen someone smoking inside a train station, though I did see someone smoking in a subway station in Toulouse; people here do not smoke that much less than in France. I have, to my horror, seen some people exercising; I think that people's exercising here makes them anti-European.
I had the pleasure of travelling from Ghent to Brussels (actually, to Leuven, in my case -- in the same direction) in the same carriage as three Russian women; on the way, I got to listen to the mellifluous sounds of their quarreling. I found a Russian store in Antwerp today, though I did not buy anything, and I found a Chinese market in Brussels yesterday, the first one that I have found on this trip. I have spent more money on food than I intended to in Belgium: the restaurant where I ate in Ghent was overpriced, and I have been buying lots of fresh fruit now that I finally have the option to do so. While I have avoided eating much ice cream on this trip, I have fallen prey to a great many bakeries, and in the Chinese market, I went nuts. (If it is not one thing, it is another.) I bought dumplings for the evening, having already consumed ten boiled dumplings filled with black sesame paste (called "tong yuan" -- I brought them back from Leuven, where I also found a Chinese store that I had forgotten to mention); I forgot that the hostel had no freezer and ended up having to eat the dumplings that night. I also bought a box of mochi balls, a package of pineapple cake, and even one of those bizarre Asian drinks, this one flavored with mangosteen. Brussels has proven the most multiethnic city that I have visited of late, the only one, as far as I can tell, that has had any sort of Chinatown (though I did not seek one out in Paris), but I am now digressing, and I still have much to tell.
The kitchen in this hostel is a war zone that would deserve a whole post of its own, and I have met some pretty interesting people here, including some girls from Winnipeg who said that I was not missing much by not having been there (they seemed much more friendly than Vancouverites). I started my day out today by exploring Brussels, which was incredibly rich in culture. One of the hostel workers in Ghent told me that I should consider skipping Mechelen if I only had two days for Leuven, Brussels, and Antwerp, and, while I was ready to ignore his advice, as I had ignored all of the advice ever given to me (unfortunately), it was spot-on. Brussels was full of churches, museums, palaces, and interesting statuary, and it was much more of a city than either Ghent or Bruges, as its historic sites were interspersed throughout normal commercial zones.
I did not leave Brussels until 1:30, having slept in, and arrived in Antwerp at 2:30. It seemed a little less Belgian to me than any of the other cities that I had so far visited, perhaps because it has fewer of the old houses that populate most of Belgium's tourist centers, and the clouds that had started rolling in broke at around 4:15 or 4:30. My eyes started burning forthwith, as sun screen was running to them, suggesting that I probably should have invested in an umbrella for this trip. I nonetheless enjoyed the religious architecture of Antwerp and think that I have seen the finest stained glass of my life here.
For some reason, I keep comparing Worms and Speyer with the cities that I have seen of late, perhaps because I have visited so many cathedrals. While I have tended to feel that neither German city has anything on the aforementioned Dutch cities, perhaps because Worms' city gate, while enormous, is not that much better than those that I have seen here. It occurs to me now that there is no need to compare different cities so much. I have seen some interesting ones here, and I was enraptured in Baden-Wurttenburg (sp?). I have probably left out a lot of observations from the past few days due to time constraints and a dearth of notes. Rather, I have a few more notes. While the French are generally incompetent, their police force responds very quickly when bums wander through train stations or into trains, and they appear well-trained. Also, from my reading of Aeschylus, I have gathered that the Greeks were in constant fear of an attack by outsiders and have surmised, based on their having, apparently, wanted power over weaker people, reverence from the weak, control over their subjects, &c., that the cultural riches that we ascribe to them were the direct product of their having been more organized than almost any society that preceded them: while those in power suffered from the same follies as those in power today, and, probably, for all of history, they had a large task force at their command due to efficient governance. That is my conjecture, at least, and a reasonable one on which to end this email.
I am a little apprehensive about visiting northern Germany, as I am not sure if it has the same cultural riches as much of the south and west. The pictures that looked so interesting to me several months ago no longer do so, and I do not know if I will get the full value out of my rail pass. Nonetheless, it should be an interesting leg of my journey, as all of these turn out to be; some of the cities or areas that sound least interesting turn out to be enthralling.
My first note is that one does not get free water in Belgium, unlike in France. In fact, waiters here are demonstratively rude when one declines to order a drink; as it turns out, they are paid well and do not expect tips, as a result of which they do not work for them (I did not know this, as a result of which I overtipped a waitress, which initially made me quite angry but will not make a difference in the cosmic scale of things.). The food here is quite good and is heavier than that of France; the man with whom I had dinner the other night posited that it was a sort of fusion between French and Dutch food, which sounded plausible to me.
I have noted that the tiny towns that one passes on the train here appear to be in fine condition, unlike in, say, Hungary, where it is clear that people in small towns (and even small cities -- in fact, even in Budapest) are incredibly poor. The landscapes here are boring: besides cows, trees, and the occasional canal, there is nothing to look at. I have not seen any interesting birds lately besides magpies, though I heard a little nice birdsong in Antwerp today. Finally, Belgium seems a little more humane than France, as some of its railway stations (the smaller ones) have free restrooms.
I woke up with the sun in my face on Tuesday and Wednesday, when I was staying in Ghent. I had slept well and quite enjoyed being right on a canal, above a bunch of bars and restaurants, as people's conversations and laughter ebbed and fell in a very pleasant background noise. The blinds, however, could not keep out the sun in the mornings; one awoke early so automatically that it felt like camping (I am relatively far north at this point; the sun sets later and rises earlier here than in the south of France.). I took a tram on Wednesday morning that moved slightly faster than walking and won a young woman's approval by demonstrating a desire to see much more of Belgium than just Brussels, in which many tourists, apparently, start and end their trips here. I spent another fairy tale day in Bruges, which was much like Ghent, only with a more extensive, less concentrated old town (it was not as pretty as Ghent).
I did not give John and Louise nearly enough time in my last email. They were very interesting interlocutors and very nice people; they gave me keychain with a furry animal on it as a souvenir, and Louise gave me a piece of famous Ghent candy when she bought a bag of it to share. The two of them had heard the so-called "last call" in Ypres, which was, apparently, incredible; their daughter was playing in a marching band that was touring Europe in remembrance of the 100-year anniversary of the start of World War I and the 70-year anniversary of the beginning of the Germans' defeat in World War II (if I have my history straight), and the two of them were following her itinerary. There were, it turns out, people from all of the Commonwealth nations, including Australians, Indians, and Brits, in attendance at Ypres, and the last call is, apparently, quite affective. Finally, John said that the French were quite at peace with absurdity (e.g., sitting motionless in their cars for several minutes because a postal truck has parked in the middle of the street, which is only wide enough for one car, and not getting the slightest bit frustrated, as they accept that as a part of life), which assured me that I was not the only person who had come to think that after visiting the country.
Train schedules and tickets are much better here than in France, as one's tickets are not tied to any particular time, and trains between cities run more frequently (they are covering much smaller distances). They are also much worse, and cheaper, than in the Netherlands, where every stop is not only announced but also displayed in every carriage on a screen that changes in real-time. In Belgium, stops on regional trains are not announced at all, and railway officials do not tell one when one's train is expected to arrive at one's destination; one has to keep track of every stop oneself in order not to miss it.
Ghent is the only place where I have seen someone smoking inside a train station, though I did see someone smoking in a subway station in Toulouse; people here do not smoke that much less than in France. I have, to my horror, seen some people exercising; I think that people's exercising here makes them anti-European.
I had the pleasure of travelling from Ghent to Brussels (actually, to Leuven, in my case -- in the same direction) in the same carriage as three Russian women; on the way, I got to listen to the mellifluous sounds of their quarreling. I found a Russian store in Antwerp today, though I did not buy anything, and I found a Chinese market in Brussels yesterday, the first one that I have found on this trip. I have spent more money on food than I intended to in Belgium: the restaurant where I ate in Ghent was overpriced, and I have been buying lots of fresh fruit now that I finally have the option to do so. While I have avoided eating much ice cream on this trip, I have fallen prey to a great many bakeries, and in the Chinese market, I went nuts. (If it is not one thing, it is another.) I bought dumplings for the evening, having already consumed ten boiled dumplings filled with black sesame paste (called "tong yuan" -- I brought them back from Leuven, where I also found a Chinese store that I had forgotten to mention); I forgot that the hostel had no freezer and ended up having to eat the dumplings that night. I also bought a box of mochi balls, a package of pineapple cake, and even one of those bizarre Asian drinks, this one flavored with mangosteen. Brussels has proven the most multiethnic city that I have visited of late, the only one, as far as I can tell, that has had any sort of Chinatown (though I did not seek one out in Paris), but I am now digressing, and I still have much to tell.
The kitchen in this hostel is a war zone that would deserve a whole post of its own, and I have met some pretty interesting people here, including some girls from Winnipeg who said that I was not missing much by not having been there (they seemed much more friendly than Vancouverites). I started my day out today by exploring Brussels, which was incredibly rich in culture. One of the hostel workers in Ghent told me that I should consider skipping Mechelen if I only had two days for Leuven, Brussels, and Antwerp, and, while I was ready to ignore his advice, as I had ignored all of the advice ever given to me (unfortunately), it was spot-on. Brussels was full of churches, museums, palaces, and interesting statuary, and it was much more of a city than either Ghent or Bruges, as its historic sites were interspersed throughout normal commercial zones.
I did not leave Brussels until 1:30, having slept in, and arrived in Antwerp at 2:30. It seemed a little less Belgian to me than any of the other cities that I had so far visited, perhaps because it has fewer of the old houses that populate most of Belgium's tourist centers, and the clouds that had started rolling in broke at around 4:15 or 4:30. My eyes started burning forthwith, as sun screen was running to them, suggesting that I probably should have invested in an umbrella for this trip. I nonetheless enjoyed the religious architecture of Antwerp and think that I have seen the finest stained glass of my life here.
For some reason, I keep comparing Worms and Speyer with the cities that I have seen of late, perhaps because I have visited so many cathedrals. While I have tended to feel that neither German city has anything on the aforementioned Dutch cities, perhaps because Worms' city gate, while enormous, is not that much better than those that I have seen here. It occurs to me now that there is no need to compare different cities so much. I have seen some interesting ones here, and I was enraptured in Baden-Wurttenburg (sp?). I have probably left out a lot of observations from the past few days due to time constraints and a dearth of notes. Rather, I have a few more notes. While the French are generally incompetent, their police force responds very quickly when bums wander through train stations or into trains, and they appear well-trained. Also, from my reading of Aeschylus, I have gathered that the Greeks were in constant fear of an attack by outsiders and have surmised, based on their having, apparently, wanted power over weaker people, reverence from the weak, control over their subjects, &c., that the cultural riches that we ascribe to them were the direct product of their having been more organized than almost any society that preceded them: while those in power suffered from the same follies as those in power today, and, probably, for all of history, they had a large task force at their command due to efficient governance. That is my conjecture, at least, and a reasonable one on which to end this email.
 |
| Belgians like fancy libraries, like this one in Leuven. |
No comments:
Post a Comment