Gillian, Vicky
“Can I pack some sandwiches for you for the train?” - Vicky’s mom
This is the kind of hospitality that makes “Family Tourism” so worth it. Family Tourism is the term I use for staying with a family in a foreign country. Now granted, Vicky’s mom is Dutch and her dad is Danish - both are cultures I now feel quite familiar with. But there’s also the aspect of just seeing what it’s like to live with another family. And Vicky’s family is pretty awesome!
Vicky’s house and general living environment is also tres cool. She lives in the suburbs (like me) and her family is fairly well off (like mine). She took us to one of her main high school hometown hangouts - the mall - for Quick, some authentic local fast food. This might not seem like taking advantage of the chance to explore another culture, but sometimes I like to find the stark similarities instead of looking for the shocking differences. After being away from home for enough time to conceive and give birth, it’s kind of relieving. I got a bit homesick for my own hometown hangout, but at the same time it was kind of a relief. We did some shopping, watched a movie (the first one I’d seen since school ended), and ate fast food.
Which brings me to the main “tourist stuff” we engaged in here: food. We ate Giant burgers at Quick, a typical local fast food joint; our first night, we sampled spare ribs from a local BBQ guy Vicky’s family really likes; we enjoyed mussels cooked in beer with fries on the side for lunch in Bruges; after walking that off, we had glorious Belgian waffles; we bought Belgian chocolate to enjoy once we left the country (I couldn’t wait and had some on the train to Luxembourg); and every night we enjoyed delicious meals in a lovely suburban Belgian household. Yumsies! Although Gillian and I are definitely looking to take a break on the rich foods. I definitely felt like a glutton, and I know what I did was bad medicine for my malfunctioning digestive system, but it’s hard to resist when the local cuisine is so rich and the local family is so damn hospitable. So I let myself go overboard.
About the actual country itself - Belgium is very beautiful. The cities and suburbs are surrounded by lush, green forests and the architecture is very nice. I love the old buildings and they build the new ones in such a way that they blend in with the old. It always looks awkward to me to see shiny skyscrapers next to venerable churches and castles. Bruges was especially beautiful and looking like a fancy fuckin’ fairy tale with all the pretty castles, churches, and canals.
Thing is, Martin McDonagh is kind of right - Bruges is this beautiful, magical-looking old town, but there really isn’t much to do there. You can walk along the beautiful canals, marvel at the old buildings (I took a picture of some iron gates, the oldest ironwork in Belgium or Europe - circa 1290), and walk up the Belfry. Interesting note: in the movie, one of the characters is able to jump out at the top, but in actuality the Belfry’s windows are fenced-off to prevent this from happening. Also interesting: people have taken it upon themselves to inscribe their favourite comments about Bruges that are made in the movie on a corkboard wall at the top of the Belfry. My favourite: “Maybe if I grew up on a farm, and was retarded... but I didn’t!” But when it comes down to it, Bruges is still fantastically beautiful and one of the coolest sites I’ve seen. I mean, the entire town is a fuckin’ Ionesco World Heritage Site. Very cool.
So upon reflection, Brussels isn’t a city I could see myself dying to live in, not the way I’ve fallen in love with Amsterdam or Halifax or other cities. But staying at Vicky’s was so much fun, so awesome. Vicky is a hella cool friend and so warm and welcoming in a way that she doesn’t get all flashy about it. One of those “yeah, course you can stay for a while” people. Or someone who is like “yeah, course I can arrange that for you.” It’s as if being so nice, friendly, warm, and helpful is common sense to her. Which maybe it should be for everyone. After staying with Floor and Vicky’s family, it’s gonna be tough to “rough it” in hostels. But then again, this kind of hospitality probably seems so common sense because of where Vicky’s coming from. I mean, look what her mom said to Gillian and me (see opening line of this entry). It could be a mis-statement and she meant “shall” instead of “can”, but I’m gonna give her the benefit of the doubt.
How can I not love a place where the matriarch takes dinner requests and asks to make food for me?
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