My apologies to all who have wondered which part of the earth I vanished to in the preceding week. I shall now attempt to recount the various misadventures that have befallen me on my way to Leuven in Belgium.
Day 1- Flight and a Hot Day in Belgium
As a sign of the misfortune to come, my Air France monitor refused to co-operate halfway through MI3, which was about 2 hours into the flight. Consequently, I spent a lot of time sleeping and jabbing repeatedly at the monitor in a vain attempt to make it work, but it didn’t. My French neighbour, a van Damme-lookalike, cursed it for my in fluent French but it didn’t work either. Upon landing in Paris at 0630, about half of Dakar and Shanghai appeared to descend upon Gate 13, leaving me emerging with my luggage 2 hours later. Because of the horde, I missed my Thalys train to Brussels and had to sit in the terminal bemoaning my fate on a tapped wireless while I waited 3 hours for the next one. Miraculously, made it into Leuven on what happened to be that hottest day of the year, dragging my luggage behind me around the cobblestones on Leuven Meeting up with my buddy Kim later, I gawped and gaped at the utterly beautiful town which happened to host a town fair, complete with rides, haunted houses, ponies and other attractions, not to mention fair-food of the typical Belgian variety. Read; Escargot, Frites lathered with mayonnaise and waffles and waffles and waffles!
Day 2-3 – House-hunting
I had underestimated the housing situation upon arriving. I thought that by coming in 2 weeks early, I would be able to secure a nice place, at reasonable rent, near to my campus. I eventually, I failed to get all 3, well except the former, until I found a room at a private agency, slightly outside the main area, for a slightly expensive but not cutthroat rate. It was then I realised that finding a place to stay was all-important. No housing contract, violate visa and get booted out of the EU because you can’t register at the Town Hall. No registration at Town Hall and housing contract, no bank account for you. No bank account, no money. No money, dead.
Day 4 – A monastery
Initially, I was told to go the monastery to get accommodation temporarily until my contract for a room started. Now a monastery conjures up images of monks, spartan living conditions and isolation, which hardly appealed to me. However, a financial analysis prompted a reassessment of my priorities and I lugged my person to the beautiful Paters Obalaten just outside Leuven. Some pictures below of cornfields, raspberry and blackberry-lined hedges, goats, cows and horses. Idyllic and peaceful, perfect for saintly reconsideration, not to mention cheap!
Day 5 – Bruges!
Stumbling into breakfast, I chanced upon the other Singaporeans from SMU studying in Leuven for 1 semester. I thought there were 4 but 2 were just on holiday and they invited me to Bruges for a day trip. For the uninitiated, Bruges is a touristy, typically Flemish town with historic buildings and squares, canals with tree-lined banks and cobblestone streets resounding with the smell of horses and the sounds of cash registers of tourist money. For my lovely fiends friends who want to come to Belgium and visit, it is a must!
Day 6 – Providence and Amsterdam Rotterdam-bound
I decided to take a bus up to Amsterdam and crash at Alfian’s place Amsterdam for a few days before heading to Rotterdam to visit later on in the week, in lieu of staying in Leuven staring at my own feet. Everything was going according to plan until my bus got delayed for 2.5 hours outside Antwerp where all 4 lanes where closed, forcing my Eurolines bus through a single lane and through many a small town. This meant a 1.30 am arrival in Amsterdam, when all public transport would have stopped running and I would be thoroughly marooned because I had forgotten to bring/lost my paper with my essential contacts on it. Help in the form of the bravest TARYN MARINA YAP came when my bus stopped in Rotterdam. I had fortuitously been contacted her about staying at a later date but when she heard about my plight and she came bounding out of her apartment despite it being the first time she ventured out beyond 10.30pm in her rather dubious neighbourhood and waited for me at Rotterdam Centraal Station! Actually it took till 11.10pm for her to find me because I was given terrible instructions by a fellow passenger who left me running around Rotterdam at night with my backpack, without a map and getting looks from bemused Surinamese at street corners. Taryn has reminded me to mention my eternal gratitude to her for finding me, feeding me and housing me, which I will return in kind when she visits Leuven in the near future.
Dutch Adventures and pictures to come!
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