Good friends,
Yes! not even I could resist the consistent pleas for us to go to Paris. For the life of me, I could not see the attraction but persons and forces greater than me were at work.
We, the good wife and I, applied for and received Schengen visas valid for 3 years at the French consulate in Cape Town. So it was that in late 2013, we jumped on a plane to Paris via Dubai and landed at CDG International early in the next morning. We had bought a Paris Pass, also at the urging of these irresistible forces, but had to pick it up at a store in the city. Having been to Paris on business trips before, I was au fait with Metro but the Good Wife was not!! This little difference caused me untold misery as I practically had to drag the lady from Gare du Nord to a small station somewhere in Paris.
The problem was that we had a train to catch from Gare du Nord to Belgium a few hours hence and the good wife was worried that we would not be back in time. Her experience with trains is South African based. So, after lugging luggage and a reticent lady through the Paris Metro, successfully and timeously retrieving our Paris Passes, we eventually made it back to Gare du Nord. We were successful but not outwardly happy and, when my good wife were hard done by at a Paris roadside restaurant, she was less enamoured with the city of love and she looked like table mountain with its winter cloth fully in place. This photo which, in my innocence, I sent back to the family via social media, made her state of discomfort very clear. Had I but the forbearance to sent the next pic first.
My careless choice of pic unlocked a veritable storm of enquiries from back home. Most centred on questioning what I did to their mom or sister!!! The hunchback of Notre Dame have not felt as insulted as I did at the time! But the fault was mine for a careless moment in choosing a pic to send back home! So I fell on my wellworn old sabre!!! Yep, had to get a sabre once the foil became pointless (pun intended)!!
The Thalys trip to Brussels was quicker than we both expected and we were happy I made the choice to go by train (less hassle than airports). Some Brownie points had accumulated by the time the train stopped in Brussels. It was easy to find the platform for our next train to Ghent, the place where the late Charmaine, youngest sister of my good wife, was buried. See, it was not all fun and games! Some familial issues came into play.
We had decided early on that the trip had to include a visit to Charmaine's grave hence the Belgium detour. I arranged that we go to gravesite first and then go back to Paris. The convoluted travel itinerary was necessitated by a limited amount of funds measures against comfort. An alternative route would have been to fly into Schiphol and to take trains to Ghent and Paris but this route presented too many unknowns that I was unwilling to confront!! See, I was familiar with Dubai and Paris.
We arrived in Ghent early evening and made our way to our hotel near the Sint Pieters Station in a slight drizzle. We overnighted well and had a good breakfast the next morning. With our bellies well-sorted, we had to make our way to the gravesite, which the good wife, having been there twice before, had no idea of location. Luckily she possessed functional telephone numbers of the late Charmaine's in-laws. Oom (Flemish is spoken there so it translates to "Uncle") Daniel and his wife Auntie Annie, was surprised and angry to hear from us. Surprised to hear we were in Ghent and angry because we did not call on them for accommodation. I am unfortunately the independent type in this regard and when I can afford it, so I re-acquainted myself with my sabre.
Our Belgium family was gracious enough to forgive my pride and spoilt us with local Belgium cuisine which include Frite (Belgium's French Fries or Freedom Fries if you are American). Here we are having a frite with meat stew meal at a Ghent restaurant, paid for by Omm Daniel and Auntie Annie. Beyond lekker!
One thing is certain: The station buildings in Europe are well-preserved and contain beautiful wall and ceiling paintings.
This pic was taken at St Pieters station in Ghent and is remisniscent of stations in other European towns and cities.
The best metro artwork I've seen however, was on the Moscow underground!
We enjoyed our time in Ghent, thanks largely to our Belgium family's efforts and then, the next day, we were on our way back to the city of love.
This I will tell about in Part 2, DV.
Keep well.
Yes! not even I could resist the consistent pleas for us to go to Paris. For the life of me, I could not see the attraction but persons and forces greater than me were at work.
We, the good wife and I, applied for and received Schengen visas valid for 3 years at the French consulate in Cape Town. So it was that in late 2013, we jumped on a plane to Paris via Dubai and landed at CDG International early in the next morning. We had bought a Paris Pass, also at the urging of these irresistible forces, but had to pick it up at a store in the city. Having been to Paris on business trips before, I was au fait with Metro but the Good Wife was not!! This little difference caused me untold misery as I practically had to drag the lady from Gare du Nord to a small station somewhere in Paris.
The problem was that we had a train to catch from Gare du Nord to Belgium a few hours hence and the good wife was worried that we would not be back in time. Her experience with trains is South African based. So, after lugging luggage and a reticent lady through the Paris Metro, successfully and timeously retrieving our Paris Passes, we eventually made it back to Gare du Nord. We were successful but not outwardly happy and, when my good wife were hard done by at a Paris roadside restaurant, she was less enamoured with the city of love and she looked like table mountain with its winter cloth fully in place. This photo which, in my innocence, I sent back to the family via social media, made her state of discomfort very clear. Had I but the forbearance to sent the next pic first.
 |
| Not happy at Gare du Nord |
 |
| Happier at Gare du Nord |
My careless choice of pic unlocked a veritable storm of enquiries from back home. Most centred on questioning what I did to their mom or sister!!! The hunchback of Notre Dame have not felt as insulted as I did at the time! But the fault was mine for a careless moment in choosing a pic to send back home! So I fell on my wellworn old sabre!!! Yep, had to get a sabre once the foil became pointless (pun intended)!!
The Thalys trip to Brussels was quicker than we both expected and we were happy I made the choice to go by train (less hassle than airports). Some Brownie points had accumulated by the time the train stopped in Brussels. It was easy to find the platform for our next train to Ghent, the place where the late Charmaine, youngest sister of my good wife, was buried. See, it was not all fun and games! Some familial issues came into play.
We had decided early on that the trip had to include a visit to Charmaine's grave hence the Belgium detour. I arranged that we go to gravesite first and then go back to Paris. The convoluted travel itinerary was necessitated by a limited amount of funds measures against comfort. An alternative route would have been to fly into Schiphol and to take trains to Ghent and Paris but this route presented too many unknowns that I was unwilling to confront!! See, I was familiar with Dubai and Paris.
We arrived in Ghent early evening and made our way to our hotel near the Sint Pieters Station in a slight drizzle. We overnighted well and had a good breakfast the next morning. With our bellies well-sorted, we had to make our way to the gravesite, which the good wife, having been there twice before, had no idea of location. Luckily she possessed functional telephone numbers of the late Charmaine's in-laws. Oom (Flemish is spoken there so it translates to "Uncle") Daniel and his wife Auntie Annie, was surprised and angry to hear from us. Surprised to hear we were in Ghent and angry because we did not call on them for accommodation. I am unfortunately the independent type in this regard and when I can afford it, so I re-acquainted myself with my sabre.
 |
| Evy paying homage at Charmaine's grave |
Our Belgium family was gracious enough to forgive my pride and spoilt us with local Belgium cuisine which include Frite (Belgium's French Fries or Freedom Fries if you are American). Here we are having a frite with meat stew meal at a Ghent restaurant, paid for by Omm Daniel and Auntie Annie. Beyond lekker!
 |
| FLTR: Oom Daniel, Aunty Annie and Evy (watching my food while I'm taking pic). |
One thing is certain: The station buildings in Europe are well-preserved and contain beautiful wall and ceiling paintings.
This pic was taken at St Pieters station in Ghent and is remisniscent of stations in other European towns and cities.
 |
| Some of artwork on ceiling at Sint Pieters Station |
We enjoyed our time in Ghent, thanks largely to our Belgium family's efforts and then, the next day, we were on our way back to the city of love.
This I will tell about in Part 2, DV.
Keep well.
Man that sabre must need regular sharpening! Love the blog.
ReplyDeleteHi Ian,
DeleteI welcome your offer, if indeed it is that?
Cheers,
Ron